mickilennial

Shelter: A Zombie Survival Story

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“I think you’ll need a little more than a lockpick.”

Hera sighed.

Stockbridge Academy was the most demanding private school she could have imagined. Tons of investors and donations had justified reworking the entire security system over the summer. After incidents upon incidents and the worries of a potential school shooter, everyone who had money had decided what Stockbridge needed was security gates, lockdown keycards, and all sorts of things. She had almost forgotten about it. The Detroit Free Press heavily criticized the whole plan, she remembered, too. Something about turning Stockbridge into more of a prison than a institution of learning. Seems for once, that was right.

The hispanic-american looked over to her classmates, “School is probably in tiered lockdown. Remember the new magnetic locks that Mr. Nielsen was so thrilled about? We aren’t getting out without a keycard. I think… if we are smart… we are going to need access to administration or maintenance.”

Ju-V

Escalation: How to NOT Handle Teenagers in 5 Steps or Less!

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_{Location: Alcatraz Compound}

Issue #2: Escalation: How to NOT Handle Teenagers in 5 Steps or Less!

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_{Interaction(s): N/A}

Previously: Last Ride to Alcatraz

The blonde gritted her teeth, the good humor she felt from her fellow captives being wiped away in an instant.

Commanding yells. A taser. A girl getting sprayed like she was a rioter on capitol hill. It got her nerves into a frenzy and she curled her fists tightly. Anxiety was a trigger for her powers, maybe for most of the metahumans she was side-by-side with on an island where it became very much clear that training facility really meant internment camp.

There was an impulse in her to get angry. With the prison guards, security, whatever, exuded their power over them. They weren’t exactly helpless, but they were basically helpless. It was enough to trigger her natural instincts despite trying to not put herself in the line of fire. She had no problem being here. She chose to be. But seeing how they reacted to a few dumb teenagers made her wonder if she wouldn’t have been better off running to Mexico once she got the offer from AEGIS in the first place. She could feel what must have been her power, though she hadn’t been exactly glowing with light energy yet.

She could do something. React. She could–

_{–No. Don't panic. Don't freak out. Don't become a light show.}

She calmed herself, though she still looked utterly pissed and confused.

So much for this being a community.

A community of fascists maybe.

Ju-V

Last Ride to Alcatraz

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_{Location: AEGIS Bus → Alcatraz Compound}

Issue #1: Last Ride to Alcatraz

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_{Interaction(s): N/A}

Previously: N/A

After refusing to engage with a girl in front who was eager to talk, Kaitlin Langstraat kept her eyes glued to the bus window near her, planting her head against it as they drove through San Francisco to their next destination.

Between her hands was an old silver dollar, one she kept rotating in her hands to try to think about anything else than the events that led her to her current situation. It didn’t work, not really.

Being diagnosed as a metahuman would’ve been world-shattering enough for her, given society’s particularly uneasiness with those with the affliction, but the universe had decided it would be much more fun if a bunch of other things happened around that as well; because the universe was a practical joker. A comedian. A laugh riot.

The funniest joke of all was that her abusive father that she had avoided for several years turned up in Santa Clara, when she was at work in the local mall.

She couldn’t even remember what happened. What he said. How he looked at her. None of it. She had been told she had an “episode” by the police and doctors. There had been damages, injuries. They weren’t forthcoming with the details and neither was AEGIS when they showed up and gave her an offer she couldn’t willingly refuse. With a pending lawsuit from the ownership group who owned the shopping mall and official charges lingering in some kind of legal purgatory, she found herself scared and out of luck. Of course she took the offer from AEGIS. Legal protections? Evaluation and training of her metahuman abilities? Making the lawsuit go away? They did all that. Part of her was grateful for it, it was like a Get Out of Jail card from Monopoly but in real life.

What else could she do?

And then they arrived at the island. It took two trips, but the beginning was over.

It was a relief in a way, she mused, as she tried to get a good look at her surroundings to the best of her ability. Not that she was preparing an escape from Alcatraz like that old Clint Eastwood movie or anything, but more in line with her not liking surprises. Being perceptive had kept her alive since forever ago and that wouldn’t change, even under someone else’s care. Anything she could see and remember she would be sure to take mental notes of. One particular thought came to mind as they were already being treated like numbers on an orange jumpsuit.

_{I guess this being like ‘Summer Camp’ was a mild exaggeration. Cool.}

It felt so surreal.

Lined up. Being ready to be shipped off to their least favorite corners of a historic prison. All for the common good of America. The good of the community.

It was absurd how the warden tried to paint it. So absurd that one of the other metahumans, a boy, made of stone, made a remark that actually made her giggle, a giggle she quickly covered with her hand. Not a common occurrence, but she didn’t expect it so readily dispensed at the warden’s expense. It was enough to maybe, just maybe, make her think that this little situation wouldn’t be completely terrible.

Just maybe.

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

Fujiwara Chiasa

_______________________________________________ Full Name - Fujiwara Chiasa Age - 19 Gender - Female Occupation - Apprentice Tinkerer Personality Trait: Cold Chiasa is geared toward the harshness that she was raised with and as such has been taught that the best way to react to things is with a cold harshness and icy disposition. She can be seen as relatively standoffish due to this, though at the very least one can expect a degree of honesty rather than the usual degree of political niceties someone born from the major families tends to exhibit. Personality Trait: Patient The Fujiwara Family is conservative with a strict sense of family values and it took a long time for Chiasa to figure out how best to defy said expectations. After all, anything to do with the outside world was forbidden. The road to becoming a tinkerer was difficult due to this and it shows in her interactions. Explosive personalities and harsh words do not prick away at Chiasa’s armor nor does anything that she could find unpredictable. Personality Trait: Sarcastic While Chiasa is certainly patient and sometimes approachable, it is not out of character to say harsh, well-calculated words meant to dig at another person’s expense when she is irked. In her philosophy it is best to react calmly and utter your annoyance in a productive way and control the situation. Attributes + Skills S K I L L S E T Scavenger Chiasa is one of the few allowed to scavenge in the old world ruins that dot the outskirts of the valley, though she has never seen greater marvels than what the Master Tinkerer has. There are many dangers in such places and you need to keep your ears open, your feet soft, and wits about you. Sign Novice Chiasa’s elders made sure that the newly appointed signkeeper taught her for a few years, as it was important for those of noble blood know how to consort with the elements. As Chiasa got older her aptitude moved to machines over signs, though she continued to study signs that would help her in her craft. She is no adept or master of signs, but she’s likely more attuned than some others. Tinkerer The old machines linger the old ruins of the world and Chiasa has come to be studious in knowing them and knowing how to make new machines out of them. She has personally aided Anayo in her endeavors and has come to become skilled in her own way of understanding what things are and how to utilize them.

Physical Description The Fujiwara Family is one of the more important families in the great valley. While not being descended from the Takamori directly, there is a certain pride in Chiasa’s appearance despite foregoing honorable distinctions and choosing the life of a tinkerer. Chiasa’s hair reflects the dark moonlight skies and her eyes do not stray far behind, becoming like amethysts that have long since lost their luster. Her hair is well combed, though held together with metal bindings. What could be said most of all is Chiasa’s expression, or well, lack of a smile. She walks heavy and she comes with a heavy sense of entitlement. She’s about average in height as well, though with how she carries herself it is hard to remember. Her fists curl at the first sign of irritation and her brows narrow with even the most minor of irritations. When she isn’t upset she still looks prickly as a thorn. Essentially, a normal Fujiwara. Character Conceptualization Chiasa’s grandfather, Fujiwara Ichiro, often tells an old story. It is a story that Chiasa has heard told throughout her whole life. The Takamori betrayed the Fujiwara and nobody cared. Had it not been for the pacifistic policies passed they would certainly have met the end of a blade. But was the story that Chiasa’s grandfather told the truth or some kind of bitter story told through the generations to breed resentment and stoke the fires of rebellion? Fortunately Chiasa has never cared for traditions. She spit on the face of her family with marriage arrangement after marriage arrangement and even before that sought to learn about the old world in lieu of anything her family wished for. This was clear since the very first day she asked about the outside world and the weird gadgetry that the tinkerer of the village would haul in to work on some new project. The strange music the tinkerer would play at festivals inspired her even further, though for some reason her family tried to curb her interests in such things. “It’s unladylike” they’d insist before going into expectations of family and tradition. The Fujiwara directed trade, crafted sake and umeshu; they did not mess with the old world. Chiasa was not her mother or sisters. She liked the old world. She wanted to know about places beyond the valley. She would do anything she could to know more things. When she was a young girl she asserted herself and demanded the tinkerer make her an apprentice. After much persistence and her own family’s interference complicating things she never thought she’d actually get the chance to learn about machines of the past nor how to make things from them. Her family eternally disappointed, Tinkerer Anayao took in the girl. She’s still not satisfied all these years later… but that’s just how Chiasa is.

_{Signs Known: Spark, Reinforce, Mend, and Glow}

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

OBLIVION

Shelter: A Zombie Survival Story

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Hera’s back had been against the door for… actually she didn’t know how long exactly.

If she would’ve looked at her phone she would’ve known it had been a few hours. Two to be precise.

The screams in the hallways outside had rattled what generally was a pretty unshakeable perfect student. The worst part was she hadn’t heard any screaming for some time now but she was too afraid to unlock the door and take a look in the hallways that eventually she and the other students who found themselves in the room would have to venture to find food and supplies.

Why hadn’t the CDC solved this crisis by now?

There’s a pause in her brain, as if she asked herself a question so stupid it needed some time to process it. Fair enough. She may have still been a teenager but even she knew that the CDC wasn’t prepared for a zombie apocalypse. Who could? And it was all probably worse outside. They had been within the halls of their comfy, private school for two weeks. They were effectively contained and the rot had still gotten inside the school after fourteen days of nothing happening inside the school. If it was that bad in a contained environment, how bad was it in an uncontained, open one?

She shuddered at the thought.

Can’t think like that. Won’t think like that.

If she allowed her to think like that her thoughts would move to her mom and how she was dead or worse. The likelihood of someone working in the medical industry at a time like this. It was logical. It was heart-wrenching. It was something to avoid thinking about.

In the room with her were five other students. No teachers. A helpful adult who didn’t throw you in front of zombie freshmen was probably ideal in a situation like this, but they didn’t have that. Just a bunch of seniors and juniors. She recognized some. Quinn. Shinny. Aaron. The two others, well, she didn’t not recognize them but she couldn’t exactly put names to faces. Of the three she knew only one of them she could ever imagine as a friend, though they weren’t exactly besties. Similar circles and lanes. With Quinn, well, there was cheerleading. Aaron was a superstar. Probably was going to make the NBA with his trajectory. She supposed that wasn’t exactly in the cards anymore.

To be fair, that went for everyone in the world. Dreams were done and now they were probably stuck in a world two sneezes away from an episode of The Last of Us.

“It’s quiet.” She finally managed, even if it was a captain obvious sort of observation. “Not sure if that’s worse or better.”

She took a heavy breath, as her hands gripped the blazer of her school uniform. Her eyes looking over to the whiteboard for a few seconds.

‘Mr. Potter’ it read. She frowned, wondering where he could be. He was one of her favorite teachers. She hoped he wasn’t dead. She hoped he wasn’t undead.

Ju-V

P H O T O N

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^{K A I T L I N " L I N N I E " L A N G S T R A A T ◼ A U G U S T 7 T H ( N I N E T E E N ) ◼ F E M A L E}

^{"I'm not interested in making friends, not really in the mood for you either."}

▼ A P P E A R A N C E:

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Listed at somewhere between 5’3” and 5’5”, at the precipice of adulthood, Linnie stands fairly average for some of her age, ethnicity, and gender. Her hair is naturally blonde and she’s never had much interest in dyeing it at all. Given her slight use to defer to Texas slang, it can make her a bit of a stereotype but stereotypes are pretty common in California. It doesn’t really matter to her how people see her, it isn’t something that keeps her up at night and this can be seen in her casual, irreverence toward her appearance.

▼ B I O G R A P H Y:

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Kaitlin "Linnie" Langstraat found herself uprooted from Texas to California when she was thirteen-years-old.

It was a normal story. Her mom wanted to get out of Texas. Her dad didn’t want her to breathe. One crucial accident later and the three of them (that is, her, her sister, and their mom) dropped Owens from their name and adopted their mom’s maiden name, trading Houston for Santa Barbara.

While it took some time to get adjusted to her new surroundings, eventually the three Langstraat girls took well to California, or more accurately, no longer having the family patriarch's influence lingering over the family like a dark shadow. Money was tighter, but everyone felt like they had the ability to breathe. It was a welcome sentiment. Linnie’s time at Santa Barbara High School was fine enough; it didn’t take long for Linnie to go from “new girl” to “popular cheerleader” by the time of her sophomore year. Everything became noise and things looked bright. By graduation she hadn’t really found many issues, though it wouldn’t be long after that her latent metahuman gene manifested when she was confronted at a mall by her father.

Suffice to say, her father was hospitalized and the mall is still dealing with repairing the damage she caused. AEGIS scooped her up from her predicament and promised no charges would be filled by the mall in accordance to them taking her in.

▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:

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Her mom and sister are still out there, and their father found out they were in Santa Barbara. She’s concerned, but perhaps with AEGIS’ connections they can keep her family safe while she figures herself and these new powers out. She never really had any opinion on metahumans before and now she finds herself one, so she’s pretty ambivalent about the whole situation. It’s best to be pragmatic and realistic, she figures.

As for how she gets on with people? That’s… difficult to quantify. She’s always been kind of blunt and snappy, often putting up an armor that prevents people (especially men) from getting to know her due to her trauma(s) with her father; the idea being that she can’t get hurt if she keeps people at distance. So she doesn’t particularly care about being friendly. It’s easy to write it off as “cheerleader = bitch” but it goes more than that as clearly indicated by her childhood and personal values. At the very least she doesn’t lie to people. Though her distrust of men does often lead her to see actions done by the opposite sex as a bit more aggressive than they are, sometimes resulting in her confronting them if she feels the need.

▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:

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Photokinetic Energy Generation: Linnie has the ability to manifest and manipulate energy in the form of light.

It is important to refer to AEGIS file number fifty-five-dash-zero (A55-0) for a full analysis on Kaitlin’s abilities and threat evaluation. As indicated from the incident that awakened her metagene and the damage on public property, it is safe to consider her a project of sorts.

Kaitlin can be generalized as a “blaster”, as she most often manifests and directs her photon-based energy manipulation through the palm of her hands. This is the best way she has found to control her energy projection abilities. Reports indicate these blasts are ionized and can cause electromagnetic effects on its targets, making it quite damaging to electronic systems and shield generation tech. The strength of this depends on her emotional volatility and how long she chooses to direct said energy. Other factors that could play into such volatility include sources of photon energy (see: light sources) around her person. She does not need to directly touch something to draw from it.

Neutralizing Kaitlin is not difficult as her powers are entangled with her stamina and emotional state. While she can utilize light energy to enhance her endurance like armor, she is not only inexperienced, she tires easily. Additionally, her moral and ethical stances may provide additional limitations on her applications of her abilities.

Aegis Operative, Rebecca Chang

▼ N O T E S:

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To Be Determined through the Roleplay.

Ju-V

Well, that and the fact people were filling out the name header with a codename alias. It's just a simple switch to move things around, but at least that way it's more streamlined.

@Kuro

I'm just following trends.

OBLIVION

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Well, that happened. She doesn’t hear Jack or anyone. She doesn’t know how she got separated. The impact of whatever weird shit happened must have sent her away from where they were. Still Ritman Field though. Her body feels awful. That becomes apparent as by the time she gets to her knees all of the food and alcohol comes out like a faucet. She paints the ground in half-digested food, groaning as the pain jumps through her back. She was used to alcohol-induced vomiting, it was pretty much her lifestyle, but when it's all said and done she curses to herself. She’s never felt the stinging, pulsing feeling that is going through her body. Something’s off. Something’s different. She doesn’t know what the difference is, but she doesn’t have the time to make sense of anything. There’s sirens blaring and she’s near the site of an accident that nobody would believe. Because time capsules didn’t tend to explode. “Fuck me. Fuck. Shit.” she manages in her discomfort as she wipes her mouth dry with her forearm. She gets herself to her feet. She isn’t going to jail for something she can’t explain. She refuses to. The thoughts simmer as she moves quickly from the field. Maybe the others got back to the car. No way she was sprinting to her bike from here without being spotted. She moves into a sprint, as the mix of adrenaline and pain dominates her inebriation. The clattering in her head is familiar but the pulsing feeling in her bones is not. When she gets to the parking lot her body jerks from inside again and before she knows it she’s on her knees for the second time and before she can utter a word to those who had also made it to the car she paints the parking lot with the rest of what was in her stomach. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline she would probably be out like a light. Thank god for that. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.02 CAUGHT IN THE CLUTCHES bottom — Tool ritman high [football field] interacting with: everyone ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔