nonsequitur

Awaken

Sounds fun. I'm in!

Weapons feelings

Gabriel Rook

Category: Henchman-Janitor

Name: Gabriel Rook
Status: main, favourite
age: 36
gender: male

Appearance: <Teal> 5'9", average build with curly brown hair and green eyes. He seldom bothers to comb his hair.

Skill set: singing, guitar, improvisation, janitorial duties.

Personality: Gabriel is friendly, quick-thinking and outspoken. He is somewhat prone to showing off whenever he gets a chance to do so, but this hides the jaded and cynical attitude of someone who's largely given up on his dreams. He's also a bit of a hopeless romantic, though this is much less obvious to a casual observer as he's become very sceptical of his prospects over the years. The only outward sign of this is a fondness for rom-coms, which he does his best to keep secret.

Background:(to be reveled during the rp)

Relation towards other characters:
-to be updated as the rp is progressing.

Joining the conversation:

Gabriel is based on a singer I like (which you could probably guess from his skill set). I thought it would be funny to dump his personality into this situation and see what happens. Also I wanted to try playing a character with better social skills, since I'm awkward enough in real life.

Weapons feelings

double post

~ Welcome to Smile Asylum ~ - Home of the Magically Insane!

Same here.

The Protectors

I've been really busy lately; will try to post in a few days.

The Protectors

"Exactly," the man replied. "Thing is, if we start striking all on the Family at once, they're going to realize they've got a problem with us 'unlawful lawfuls' - They'll start peeling off masks faster than a masquerade prom night."

Rachel frowned. She hated to admit it, but he had a point: there was no way she could wipe everyone they sent after her. Especially not if they sent a team.

He walked over to the unconscious guards and lifted each of them by the collar, propping them up against a nearby wall.

"These low-level mooks, they don't know anything. We need to bait a hook for something a little bigger."

For all his tools, the man was content to let these people go free? Like she'd done with the would-be mugger all those months ago. It wasn't people like him that were the problem, she knew that. It was the families, the ones in power. She'd suppressed that thought, convinced herself she was making a difference.

Now, it was coming back.

He reached over to his pack, and removed a small device, placing it under the collar of one of the men. A listening device? She wondered what his day job was, that allowed him to afford all those gadgets. Maybe she was looking in the wrong places.

"There's more to be gained from leaving these scum alive than dead. Dead men tell no tales, as it were. But live ones... They tell all kinds of stories." He turned to her and saluted, extending a hand.

"These dirtbags call me Riot, which is a good enough name as any. You?"

She inclined her head. An alliance? She'd always preferred patrolling by herself Perhaps taking down the crime families could be done sooner than she thought.

"Wisp," she said, extending her hand in reply.

The Protectors

Rachel had hardly finished filling the fifth syringe before something metal landed at her feet. It was dark inside, but the general shape flashed into her consciousness. A grenade!

She dropped the syringe and barely managed to dive for cover before it went off. Smoke billowed around her, her ears rang and she couldn't see Either the dealers knew she was here or some other masked guy had gotten the same idea as her. She hoped it was the latter: taking out two guards who were already slightly sleepy was one thing. Facing off against six or seven men was another.

"...enough killing without your help, don't you?"

Rachel stood, dusting herself off absently. The man in front of her was tall, built like a linebacker. He carried a riot shield and more tools than she'd ever used in three years. Riot? She'd heard the rumours. A vigilante, like her. She'd talk to him.

"They deserve it," she said. Clipped, precise tones; the way she remembered her English teacher's voice. "Acceptable targets, yes? Only the junkies will miss them. Gambetti will just be annoyed."

~ Welcome to Smile Asylum ~ - Home of the Magically Insane!

You fell asleep on your keyboard?

I use Notepad and save everything to Dropbox and my thumb drive, so that's never happened to me.

The Protectors

@Korban: Sorry, fell asleep after I posted last night and only saw your post now. I like that idea! I'll try to write something by today.

The Protectors

Empire City, New York, 1976

Useless.

Rachel stared at the walls of the apartment she had moved into the day before. Her knuckles still throbbed unpleasantly, though it had been several hours since... since...

Part of her felt she should use her power. Smooth things over, send the more troublesome emotions to the background. Then she could think clearly about this.

She was done with pretending.

Rachel shoved a fist in her mouth to keep from screaming. She'd been so stupid, so afraid of acting; she could have stopped it years ago if she'd just ripped every memory out of his head the first time he fucked her–

She didn't want to think about it. Garrett didn't have to anymore. She wanted to forget—

Rachel blinked. It felt like she'd woken from a dream, the details rapidly fading. Garrett– her stepfather. Something about her stepfather. She was upset.

Using her power was second nature to her by now. Of course she was upset, she thought as her mind cleared. He'd been forcibly committed after entering a fugue state, and she had moved out. It was only natural. She must have dozed off, too tired from unpacking.

It didn't matter. She could always finish it tomorrow.

---

Present day

Rachel hid inside the warehouse and waited.

Six months earlier she'd interrupted a mugging in progress, paralysing the thug with a taser shock in the back. The couple hadn't seemed too familiar with her name; then again, all her previous fights had been with petty thieves and burglars. Not what she'd imagined when she first resolved to become a vigilante, but at least it was something.

Then he'd broken down, saying that he'd only wanted money for drugs. Luckily, the taser meant he couldn't move while she kept her hands on him and waited for his memories to open up to her. He hadn't been lying, so she'd only broken his right arm and removed the previous three weeks from his memory.

It would be a long time before she felt ready to take down one of the crime families. But she could at least take out one of their sources of money.

According to her sources, this was one of the major coordinating sites for the Gambettis' drug trafficking activities. Taking out the people here would cripple their operation considerably.

Around her, stacks of every drug she could think of, and the means of taking them. Syringes, needles, pipes...

She grabbed several syringes and began filling them with cocaine. It was only fitting that the dealers got a taste of their own medicine.