<Snipped quote by Retired>
Talking about Nerds. Not trying to force anything but what team ups would you like to see in the game going forward?
Idk about team up, but I'd love to see the sparks that'd fly if Jean or Max-neato met up with Mr. Stark.
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Idk about team up, but I'd love to see the sparks that'd fly if Jean or Max-neato met up with Mr. Stark.
Calling all Mutant PCs: @Pacifista, @AndyC, @Hillan, anyone have designs on Jubilee?
Nope! The most important characters I have my eye on are the Morlocks lol.
I'm planning to take it at a casual pace and post every Sunday. Expect Firebird on the 11th and Titans to start on the 18th! Then I'll alternate them going forward. ;)
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
T E E N T I T A N S
T E E N T I T A N S
T E E N T I T A N S
"Saving the day, one stopped crime at a time. #TeenTitans #RoxxonRelief #LACrime #SuperheroWatch"
S T A R F I R E ♦ C Y B O R G ♦ R E D X ♦ B E A S T B O Y ♦ R A V E N
L O S A N G E L E S , C A L I F O R N I A
L O S A N G E L E S , C A L I F O R N I A
O R I G I N S:
An escaped alien prisoner stranded far away from home. A young genius stolen away to Apokolips and warped into an abomination before finding his way back. A mask without a name or face living as a corporate tool. A mutant having escaped the cult that still has his parents in their captivity. The progeny of an inter-dimensional tyrant who will herald in the Earth’s end. All under the thumb of a Roxxon Public Relations Manager who sees the opportunity to make all sorts of gains through taking advantage of these troubled youths. They are the Teen Titans.
Needless to say, these Titans are not a team, not yet. Right now they are stragglers who will come to find one another through circumstance, eventually being scooped up by their sponsor, Morgan Edge, in a bold publicity stunt. Under a public eye they’re meant to appeal too they’ll fight their battles and come to grow closer to one another and gradually work through their damage. A past that haunts them, they live in a present world of mounting chaos, and hold a future none could ever predict.
Needless to say, these Titans are not a team, not yet. Right now they are stragglers who will come to find one another through circumstance, eventually being scooped up by their sponsor, Morgan Edge, in a bold publicity stunt. Under a public eye they’re meant to appeal too they’ll fight their battles and come to grow closer to one another and gradually work through their damage. A past that haunts them, they live in a present world of mounting chaos, and hold a future none could ever predict.
S A M P L E P O S T:
The following is non-canonical and would be fleshed out if it were to be a part of the Titan’s story. As of now it’s merely a proof of concept to offer a picture of their general dynamic as a team.
An ear splitting groan creaked throughout the Los Angeles industrial district. The night was lit from many a small flames from all about the chemical refinery. News helicopters fluttered about like vultures, waiting for bodies to consume for their headlines. The groan echoed, the building buckled, then burst. A torrent of violet sludge erupted, first slipping, then shaping. It was joined by a glint of silver that plummeted with a reflexive scream, landing with a crash as asphalt broke away, the metal body unmarred.
“You good, buddy?” a voice came over his comm system.
As he let most of the ooze slop out of his mouth, the orifice tingling as his cleaning systems did their work to nullify any toxic or corrosive agents, Cyborg insisted, “Never been more glad to not have a sense of taste or smell, let’s say that.”
“Thaaaat’s the spirit.” There was a flash of green, a hawk shooting from the window. Beast Boy had a metal vial in his claws, and the purple mass lurched after him, forming a hand as if to pluck the bird from the sky. “Oh, so you do want this!”
“Ä̷̺͉́͑ź̷̮̻a̴̫̎͘r̸͓̺̕ǎ̷̲͝ẗ̷̼́͐ͅh̸̯̰̏̃ ̸͍̖͌̕M̸̫̆ě̴̫t̸̘̯̒r̴̬̙̈i̷̧̯͑̅o̷̻͋n̸̞̫̅͛ ̶̻̠̊Z̴̥͑ǐ̷̧̛n̶͙̊̆t̸͖͗h̶̝̐̊o̷͚͠s̸̪̗̋̈́!̸̢̡̤̘́͜” With words beyond the tongue of mortals, there was a rupture like a wave breaking against a shore, the purple mess splinting as a thin black mass like a spectral blade ripped through it. Beast Boy slowed down, flapping his wings as he hovered by Raven, who floated herself to his level. With a wave of her hand, the vial sunk into a blackness before being flung into the distance.
“Uh, did we need that?”
Purple mass of Plasmus shifting underneath them to follow, Raven murmured, “This place is set for demolition. There’s shouldn’t be anything important here.”
As the vial flew towards the edge of the compound, a black cape fluttered, the metal vial being plucked from the air. “Anything unusual should be investigated, especially if it can help us stop this monster.” Palm trained on the encroaching mass, Red X fired a few crimson crosses, the Xenothium meeting the muck before discharging energy, smoke billowing and a low scream rumbling. “Do we have signs of the main body? There must be a center.”
Raven opened her mouth, but a shrill battle cry came over the comms, then a burst of destruction and distortion. Another section of the complex erupted, green flashes piercing through the air, each blast blowing out the muck, each one piercing a bubble that looked like acid, the congregation on unlike the eyes of an insect. “Taste my fury, enemy of humanity!” Starfire jeered, smile wide as her bolts peppered the monster. The green bubbles of acid started to form throughout the whole body, fumes hissing from the building as its innards gradually began to melt.
“It mutated again?” X glanced down at the vial in his hands before stating, “I suspect we found the catalyst of this incident.”
Sonic cannon blasting back the mass, Cyborg growled, “Thank goodness for the diligence and integrity of our sponsors.”
“I can still hear you all!” their benefactor shouted from the safety of some office miles away. Morgan Edge grumbled, “Whatever, it’s not like you’re wrong. Just get in there and take the baddie out. Cy, set up some cameras and get a good team shot while you’re at it!”
Rolling his one humanoid eye, Cyborg cleared the area as the others came down, Beast Boy and Raven floating in moments before Starfire swooped by, Red X following suit and dropping down once he could as BB returned to his human form. Recognizing them as a threat, Plasmus gathered itself, the mass seeming to be endless at it continued to gurgle and spout its way out of the building, going higher and higher as it started to shape into a giant, its lower sections breaking down and reforming as it struggled to bear the weight of its own body.
“Have we decided a plan of attack, or shall we ‘go wild’, as it is said?”
“It-”
“Cyborg, can you use sonar or some other means of detection to find anything out of place in its makeup?”
“Th-”
“I’ve been trying, but no luck so far. It has too many dense areas, but if we start with those, then...”
“...”
“Can we let the lady speak, fellas?”
Mouths went shut, and all eyes turned to Raven. “I can detect exactly where its consciousness is coming from. I could ever since we got here.”
The group erupted into protest. “OH COME ON!” “And you failed to mention this until now?” “Wonderful job!” “Aw gee that’d have been great to know. “This mission has been underway for hours.” “We have hope even still!” “Before he slimed me!” “Actually, I take it back.” “Explain yourself.” “Peak comic timing.” “Hmm, yes, the delay is curious.”
Raven was completely unaffected, her face as placid as ever. When the four of them finally calmed down, she bit back, “No one asked.”
The banter was cut down buy a growl. Proportionally it was like a low murmur, but it rumbled the chests of all five Titans. Plasmus’s form had stabilized. Two massive, hulking arms, two stubby legs, a wide mouth complete with the shape of teeth, a head crowned with pustules of acid like spots on a mushroom. Their brief moment of downtime had left them. They shifted to battle poses at Red X’s words.
“Alright. We follow Raven’s lead. Titans: move-”
*click*
“Together!”
An ear splitting groan creaked throughout the Los Angeles industrial district. The night was lit from many a small flames from all about the chemical refinery. News helicopters fluttered about like vultures, waiting for bodies to consume for their headlines. The groan echoed, the building buckled, then burst. A torrent of violet sludge erupted, first slipping, then shaping. It was joined by a glint of silver that plummeted with a reflexive scream, landing with a crash as asphalt broke away, the metal body unmarred.
“You good, buddy?” a voice came over his comm system.
As he let most of the ooze slop out of his mouth, the orifice tingling as his cleaning systems did their work to nullify any toxic or corrosive agents, Cyborg insisted, “Never been more glad to not have a sense of taste or smell, let’s say that.”
“Thaaaat’s the spirit.” There was a flash of green, a hawk shooting from the window. Beast Boy had a metal vial in his claws, and the purple mass lurched after him, forming a hand as if to pluck the bird from the sky. “Oh, so you do want this!”
“Ä̷̺͉́͑ź̷̮̻a̴̫̎͘r̸͓̺̕ǎ̷̲͝ẗ̷̼́͐ͅh̸̯̰̏̃ ̸͍̖͌̕M̸̫̆ě̴̫t̸̘̯̒r̴̬̙̈i̷̧̯͑̅o̷̻͋n̸̞̫̅͛ ̶̻̠̊Z̴̥͑ǐ̷̧̛n̶͙̊̆t̸͖͗h̶̝̐̊o̷͚͠s̸̪̗̋̈́!̸̢̡̤̘́͜” With words beyond the tongue of mortals, there was a rupture like a wave breaking against a shore, the purple mess splinting as a thin black mass like a spectral blade ripped through it. Beast Boy slowed down, flapping his wings as he hovered by Raven, who floated herself to his level. With a wave of her hand, the vial sunk into a blackness before being flung into the distance.
“Uh, did we need that?”
Purple mass of Plasmus shifting underneath them to follow, Raven murmured, “This place is set for demolition. There’s shouldn’t be anything important here.”
As the vial flew towards the edge of the compound, a black cape fluttered, the metal vial being plucked from the air. “Anything unusual should be investigated, especially if it can help us stop this monster.” Palm trained on the encroaching mass, Red X fired a few crimson crosses, the Xenothium meeting the muck before discharging energy, smoke billowing and a low scream rumbling. “Do we have signs of the main body? There must be a center.”
Raven opened her mouth, but a shrill battle cry came over the comms, then a burst of destruction and distortion. Another section of the complex erupted, green flashes piercing through the air, each blast blowing out the muck, each one piercing a bubble that looked like acid, the congregation on unlike the eyes of an insect. “Taste my fury, enemy of humanity!” Starfire jeered, smile wide as her bolts peppered the monster. The green bubbles of acid started to form throughout the whole body, fumes hissing from the building as its innards gradually began to melt.
“It mutated again?” X glanced down at the vial in his hands before stating, “I suspect we found the catalyst of this incident.”
Sonic cannon blasting back the mass, Cyborg growled, “Thank goodness for the diligence and integrity of our sponsors.”
“I can still hear you all!” their benefactor shouted from the safety of some office miles away. Morgan Edge grumbled, “Whatever, it’s not like you’re wrong. Just get in there and take the baddie out. Cy, set up some cameras and get a good team shot while you’re at it!”
Rolling his one humanoid eye, Cyborg cleared the area as the others came down, Beast Boy and Raven floating in moments before Starfire swooped by, Red X following suit and dropping down once he could as BB returned to his human form. Recognizing them as a threat, Plasmus gathered itself, the mass seeming to be endless at it continued to gurgle and spout its way out of the building, going higher and higher as it started to shape into a giant, its lower sections breaking down and reforming as it struggled to bear the weight of its own body.
“Have we decided a plan of attack, or shall we ‘go wild’, as it is said?”
“It-”
“Cyborg, can you use sonar or some other means of detection to find anything out of place in its makeup?”
“Th-”
“I’ve been trying, but no luck so far. It has too many dense areas, but if we start with those, then...”
“...”
“Can we let the lady speak, fellas?”
Mouths went shut, and all eyes turned to Raven. “I can detect exactly where its consciousness is coming from. I could ever since we got here.”
The group erupted into protest. “OH COME ON!” “And you failed to mention this until now?” “Wonderful job!” “Aw gee that’d have been great to know. “This mission has been underway for hours.” “We have hope even still!” “Before he slimed me!” “Actually, I take it back.” “Explain yourself.” “Peak comic timing.” “Hmm, yes, the delay is curious.”
Raven was completely unaffected, her face as placid as ever. When the four of them finally calmed down, she bit back, “No one asked.”
“UGH!”
“Disappointing.”The banter was cut down buy a growl. Proportionally it was like a low murmur, but it rumbled the chests of all five Titans. Plasmus’s form had stabilized. Two massive, hulking arms, two stubby legs, a wide mouth complete with the shape of teeth, a head crowned with pustules of acid like spots on a mushroom. Their brief moment of downtime had left them. They shifted to battle poses at Red X’s words.
“Alright. We follow Raven’s lead. Titans: move-”
*click*
“Together!”
C A S T:
- The Team:
- Red X: A presumed orphan taken in by the Roxxon Corporation, trained from birth to undergo missions of espionage. He’s never been given a lasting designation, his newest simply happens to be ‘Red X’.
- Starfire: Princess Koriand’r of the Planet Tamaran. A political upheaval led to her imprisonment at the hands of Gordanian slavers. In transit, a freak accident had all the prisoners marked and ejected for later retrieval. Landing on Earth, she’s enjoying all the freedom she can.
- Beast Boy: After undergoing a mutation allowing him to turn into any animal, Garfield Logan’s parents sought help, entering the fold of the H.I.V.E. After several years of cultish indoctrination, they attempted to leave when they discovered various dark deeds they were up to. Beast Boy escaped alone despite their best efforts.
- Cyborg: Incredibly talented and the joy of his parents, Victor Stone was well on track to become a brilliant scientist when cruel fate intervened. He was whisked away to Apokolips and presumed missing or dead while his body was restructured from the ground up. After a year in that literal hell, he was able to escape back to the world he no longer had a place in.
- Raven: Angela Roth was a practitioner of the magical arts on Earth before a ritual gone awry drew her into the fold of Trigon, who forcibly sired an heir. Angela was returned to Earth with a curse in her belly, and every time she reached out a hand it was beaten back. Alone with her daughter Rachel, she came to resent that half-monster, yet could not leave her be lest she suffer Trigon’s wrath. Rachel grew up under that hatred and neglect until her 13th birthday, June 6th, when her father reached out to her in her dreams with his mission. Finally having someone to accept her, she followed his directives without question. The worst that could happen was the destruction of a world she had no attachment for...
- Morgan Edge: Public Relations Manager of Roxxon Corporation and general scumbag with no integrity. After a bunch of weird kids fall into his lap, he sees the chance to get in good with the higher ups by leaning into this new ‘superhero’ craze.
Notable Rogues: - Trigon: Inter-dimensional tyrant who sows the seeds of his lineage to conquer where he cannot tread.
- Brother Blood and the Headhunters of Volunteer Exceptionals (H.I.V.E.): A cultish group aiming to gather various underprivileged talents to give them a better path in life. Currently under CIA investigation for suspicious activities.
- Dr. Bedlam: A scientist from Apokolips who kidnapped Victor from Earth and pumped him full of tech before he escaped.
- Blackfire: Queen Komand’r of Tamaran. Responsible for Koriand’r’s apparent disappearance.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
You make a valid point, and I'm sure Xavier and Eisenhardt are going to be extremely scared and worried about all of this. But, just as like, an hypothetical. Wouldn't it be crazy if like, Mr. Stark's empire and weaponry was built with metal and dependent on electricity, and his brain was full of thoughts?
Man. That'd be a real shame if something were to hypothetically happen to that.
Imagine having a brain full of thoughts, couldn't be me!
@Simple Unicycle denied noice
As the time of our lord and saviour @Master Bruce approaches with the IC... Other than your own, what concepts/characters are you most excited to see realised?
I mean we got a bunch of really cool sheets here
This is a tough one. I've only been in a handful of these games but they're always bustling with so much creative energy. Least Casual Casual RP I've ever seen I swear.
I'm biased towards Hillan's X-Men because I had a small part in inspiring it, and I'm really curious to see what he does with that original idea. @Byrd Man's Jack Hawkmoore is interesting because it's a character I have 0 familiarity with. After that...I'm reading everything anyway it's all good and interesting fuck you guys and your compelling ass superhero RPs ;~;
My second application has a sample post now!
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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F I R E B I R D
"Yes, I mind."
J E A N E L A I N E G R E Y – S U M M E R S ♦ T E A C H E R ♦ B A L T I M O R E
O R I G I N S:
You’ve slipped through the cracks. The mutant problem was already solved and you should stop pretending otherwise. Your suffering is dementia. Your aberrations are a fashion statement no one is listening to. Other people in the world are suffering more than you. Your truth is just a psy-op. Your pain isn’t real. You might as well not even exist. Jean’s suffering was like that of so many mutants: quashed and belittled to the point that most believe it to be a non-issue, if it wasn’t just seen as an elaborate hoax. Gaslit out of her own childhood, how could Jean Grey know otherwise? Drugged out on sedatives constantly so that her mind didn’t split Beacon, New York apart. Kept away from others as much as possible so that she didn’t cast her elementary school into flames. They could go to the authorities, sure, but then everyone would know they did their community a deep disservice by giving birth to a monster. But while puberty is where many come to fight their bodies, that was where Jean’s finally caught up to her mind, not that she was allowed to know. As far as she was aware, she’d been ‘cured’ of her childhood insanity through prayer, her well meaning parents insisting that her ‘powers’ were mere hallucinations. They loved her, so how could they be wrong?
Her middle and high school years allowed her a semblance of happiness, but her powers were always a part of her. Her bursts of emotion led to odd flares she would never be able to easily explain away. But what she needed was not prayer, time, or even assistance and guidance. She’d needed a drive to master it, and someone to join her on her journey to accepting herself. She acquired a crush on Scott Summers even before an accidental probe into his mind allowed her to uncover his mutant powers, one bad fall away from vaporizing a city block. They lived on their own precipices, one bad day away from losing everything they loved. Just knowing about him and his struggle would help her: to know someone close was fighting their own fight. And to know her own feelings she had to come to terms with everything that was her just to make that short step of asking him out. Jean would one day extend a hand to help him. Years later they would be living out of a cheap apartment in Baltimore, struggling to raise their son in a chaotic world that was about to become so much more chaotic.
Inspired from the recent X-Men ‘97, I intend to write a story that strips Jean of her relationship with Charles, the X-Men, and (though I’m drawing from the name, unless plans change) the Phoenix, telling the story we start to see in ‘97 from the reverse. Not a Jean trying to settle down from being a hero to start a family, but a Jean with a family choosing to follow a path that allows her to use her powers for good in a new age, to give a much needed social justice to a peoples who’s mere existence is deemed a problem to be fixed. All the while she deals with her own family circumstances as her wants place more burden on her husband, and her battles put more strain on herself and risk the uncovering of her childhood traumas left buried for so long.
Her middle and high school years allowed her a semblance of happiness, but her powers were always a part of her. Her bursts of emotion led to odd flares she would never be able to easily explain away. But what she needed was not prayer, time, or even assistance and guidance. She’d needed a drive to master it, and someone to join her on her journey to accepting herself. She acquired a crush on Scott Summers even before an accidental probe into his mind allowed her to uncover his mutant powers, one bad fall away from vaporizing a city block. They lived on their own precipices, one bad day away from losing everything they loved. Just knowing about him and his struggle would help her: to know someone close was fighting their own fight. And to know her own feelings she had to come to terms with everything that was her just to make that short step of asking him out. Jean would one day extend a hand to help him. Years later they would be living out of a cheap apartment in Baltimore, struggling to raise their son in a chaotic world that was about to become so much more chaotic.
Inspired from the recent X-Men ‘97, I intend to write a story that strips Jean of her relationship with Charles, the X-Men, and (though I’m drawing from the name, unless plans change) the Phoenix, telling the story we start to see in ‘97 from the reverse. Not a Jean trying to settle down from being a hero to start a family, but a Jean with a family choosing to follow a path that allows her to use her powers for good in a new age, to give a much needed social justice to a peoples who’s mere existence is deemed a problem to be fixed. All the while she deals with her own family circumstances as her wants place more burden on her husband, and her battles put more strain on herself and risk the uncovering of her childhood traumas left buried for so long.
S A M P L E P O S T:
“I’m glad your dog is dead!”
“Shawn! Take that back!” Juniper broke down as recent wounds were made fresh again. The class erupted into a mixture of laughs and shouts. Jean stood, her red hair flowing behind her as she took Juniper by the hand and moved through the desks of 4th graders. They went silent as their teacher towered over them all, but as she reached Shawn’s desk, she crouched down, taking his dark hand in her free one. His expression fell to one mixed of annoyance and embarrassment. He tried to maneuver his hand away but Jean kept a gentle hold of it.
“Shawn, I know you’re going through a lot right now. I think all of you are, all of us always are. The world’s hard right now. It’s nothing like when I was a kid. But I think it’s because the world is scary we should try to be kind.” She gauged his reaction, his desire to not be here right now. To have kids so full of creativity and energy be bottled up in a classroom was torture of the worst kind, and global pandemic would leave scars none would ever be able to guess at the depth of. It had taken weeks for her to be able to convince them not to be engaged with the constant stimulus of their phones, their safe retreat where so many of their parents didn’t have the time to spend with them from long hours worked. “Do you want to try and apologize?”
Shawn remained pensive, guilt plain. Then he cracked a smile, but not from anything Jean had done or said. A fart resounded through the class, all tension unwinding as the kids burst into laughter. Jean lurched, trying to hold onto her balanced as she failed to contain herself. Many things changed, but some things never would. Jean was trying her hardest to leave an impression on these kids, but it seemed sometimes a deep speech full of optimism was less than a fart, and maybe for now that was alright. When the class calmed down, Shawn did apologize for making fun of Juniper’s recently deceased dog, a sad story she wanted to share with the class. Giving the class an opportunity to come clean on their feelings and let themselves be vulnerable in a safe space wasn’t an idea she thought was bad, but perhaps ‘private one on one teacher talk’ would have been a better move. Baby steps.
A short while later she sat at her desk, eyes mindlessly wandering across the water damage spots on the ceiling of the far too old ‘temporary’ classroom while she slurped at her beef flavored Cup Noodles, decadently garnished with about 3 cents worth of grated ginger, who’s flavor and health benefits was no doubt buried in preservatives and MSG. She dripped some broth onto her yellow blouse, and didn’t even care. Lunch break felt like her one solace in life, where she was able to turn her mind off. Turn off the safety. And not have to worry about her finances, her underfunded classroom, her husband and child back home. Load a bullet in the chamber. But dammit it was so worth it, she told herself every night as she tried to sleep in between Nathan’s wails. It was for the ki-
And then they’ll see me. Then they’ll hear me.
Jean’s mind, never quite shut, was drowned constantly in noise. The darkest thoughts, the most pleasant dreams, the inanely mundane babble. Like static from a TV or the rumble of an air conditioner, she tended to shut it out. Even the loudest most passionate thoughts would only be brief interruptions, like that of a car exhaust or firework. Easily mistaken for a gunshot, momentarily annoying, and quickly ignored.
But sometimes it was a gunshot.
Jean leapt from her seat, pittance of a lunch splattering on the floor. Her mind probed outwards as she spilled into the hall, hurling by a passing teacher and student. “Bathroom!” she yelled as she passed right by the nearest one. She ran across the fields, well away from the kids still in the cafeteria area, a few stragglers enjoying the playground before it became a carnival. Passing by a few bushes filled with webs and spiders, she found the back area where the fence divided school with the minuscule backyard of low end housing. A form dropped from the top of the fence, scrambling up and pointing a handgun right at Jean. He wore a heavy coat and beanie despite the higher than temperate weather, and she immediately noticed why. Green skin, no nose, big yellow eyes wide and full of anger, fingers almost too large to even fit into the trigger guard. Her breath went cold. No amount of mental preparation could ready you for your first time staring down the barrel of a gun. But so easily could she imagine the 12 bullets in that pistol, yet to reach the chamber, flying through the air at her students. Her own breath went hot, and her eyes went yellow like the sun, for they were of the same breed.
She plumbed into his mind, and she saw. She saw him skulking through the midday on his way to this school. She saw him stealing the gun from a gang banger in the middle of the night, running from retaliating fire. She saw him leering at the bright world outside he wasn’t allowed into, a hate festering that Jean could only claim she couldn’t understand if she felt like lying to herself. She saw him scorounging for scraps of food while trying to hide from people guarding it, because protecting the excess waste of gross capital was more important than the lives of the poor and downtrodden. She saw him, small, no older than anyone in her own class, retreating as stones were cast his way. She saw him tucked away in his parents basement until he was so hungry he had to escape, only to find his parents had left him. She saw him born a once normal boy. For a time, he could be happy in a world where no one knew what he truly was.
It was not a word spoken, a suggestion offered. It was a command implanted. She feared the residual effects she could have on a tender mind, yet felt as though she had no other choice, not in this moment. She knew it wasn’t a solution, but she couldn’t think of anything else. She couldn’t alleviate his pain, she couldn’t take him in when she was struggling so much as it was. She couldn’t go to the authorities who would not be helpful or kind. There was no place in this world for he who didn’t ask to be born a monster. He left the gun and crawled back over the fence like nothing was wrong. She waited for him to go before lifting the gun with her mind, drawing out the bullets and dumping them down a drain pipe, before drawing on her pyrokenesis and telekenesis as one, melting and crushing down the gun into a ball and letting it cool before hiding it in a bush.
The rest of the school day seemed to drift by. Her body felt numb as she went through her classes, her post-school meetings, her bus ride home. She packed it all down and away. Leftovers to dig into later. Going up the 8 floors to her apartment, she steeled herself and put on a smile as she reached the door. It opened before she even reached it. Head full of auburn hair, eyes blocked by the red lenses of his sunglasses, a light coat over a security guard uniform, he began, “Hey! They called me in early so I gotta go but Nate’s asleep right now and I made enchiladas! They’re in the fridge and I’ve already got the oven prehea- Jean?”
Scott was suddenly buffeted as Jean rushed into his chest, shaking with sobs that broke out of her once she’d seen the face of the man she loved so much. He wiped the surprise off his face as he sank to his knees with Jean, who couldn’t support her own weight any more. He put his arms around her without hesitation. I’m right here for you. I’m right here. And I’ll always be here. He repeated in his head. He wouldn’t find out the details in this moment, but through her sobs he would be able to make out the phrase that would define the coming years of their life.
“Something has to change.”
“Shawn! Take that back!” Juniper broke down as recent wounds were made fresh again. The class erupted into a mixture of laughs and shouts. Jean stood, her red hair flowing behind her as she took Juniper by the hand and moved through the desks of 4th graders. They went silent as their teacher towered over them all, but as she reached Shawn’s desk, she crouched down, taking his dark hand in her free one. His expression fell to one mixed of annoyance and embarrassment. He tried to maneuver his hand away but Jean kept a gentle hold of it.
“Shawn, I know you’re going through a lot right now. I think all of you are, all of us always are. The world’s hard right now. It’s nothing like when I was a kid. But I think it’s because the world is scary we should try to be kind.” She gauged his reaction, his desire to not be here right now. To have kids so full of creativity and energy be bottled up in a classroom was torture of the worst kind, and global pandemic would leave scars none would ever be able to guess at the depth of. It had taken weeks for her to be able to convince them not to be engaged with the constant stimulus of their phones, their safe retreat where so many of their parents didn’t have the time to spend with them from long hours worked. “Do you want to try and apologize?”
Shawn remained pensive, guilt plain. Then he cracked a smile, but not from anything Jean had done or said. A fart resounded through the class, all tension unwinding as the kids burst into laughter. Jean lurched, trying to hold onto her balanced as she failed to contain herself. Many things changed, but some things never would. Jean was trying her hardest to leave an impression on these kids, but it seemed sometimes a deep speech full of optimism was less than a fart, and maybe for now that was alright. When the class calmed down, Shawn did apologize for making fun of Juniper’s recently deceased dog, a sad story she wanted to share with the class. Giving the class an opportunity to come clean on their feelings and let themselves be vulnerable in a safe space wasn’t an idea she thought was bad, but perhaps ‘private one on one teacher talk’ would have been a better move. Baby steps.
A short while later she sat at her desk, eyes mindlessly wandering across the water damage spots on the ceiling of the far too old ‘temporary’ classroom while she slurped at her beef flavored Cup Noodles, decadently garnished with about 3 cents worth of grated ginger, who’s flavor and health benefits was no doubt buried in preservatives and MSG. She dripped some broth onto her yellow blouse, and didn’t even care. Lunch break felt like her one solace in life, where she was able to turn her mind off. Turn off the safety. And not have to worry about her finances, her underfunded classroom, her husband and child back home. Load a bullet in the chamber. But dammit it was so worth it, she told herself every night as she tried to sleep in between Nathan’s wails. It was for the ki-
And then they’ll see me. Then they’ll hear me.
Jean’s mind, never quite shut, was drowned constantly in noise. The darkest thoughts, the most pleasant dreams, the inanely mundane babble. Like static from a TV or the rumble of an air conditioner, she tended to shut it out. Even the loudest most passionate thoughts would only be brief interruptions, like that of a car exhaust or firework. Easily mistaken for a gunshot, momentarily annoying, and quickly ignored.
But sometimes it was a gunshot.
Jean leapt from her seat, pittance of a lunch splattering on the floor. Her mind probed outwards as she spilled into the hall, hurling by a passing teacher and student. “Bathroom!” she yelled as she passed right by the nearest one. She ran across the fields, well away from the kids still in the cafeteria area, a few stragglers enjoying the playground before it became a carnival. Passing by a few bushes filled with webs and spiders, she found the back area where the fence divided school with the minuscule backyard of low end housing. A form dropped from the top of the fence, scrambling up and pointing a handgun right at Jean. He wore a heavy coat and beanie despite the higher than temperate weather, and she immediately noticed why. Green skin, no nose, big yellow eyes wide and full of anger, fingers almost too large to even fit into the trigger guard. Her breath went cold. No amount of mental preparation could ready you for your first time staring down the barrel of a gun. But so easily could she imagine the 12 bullets in that pistol, yet to reach the chamber, flying through the air at her students. Her own breath went hot, and her eyes went yellow like the sun, for they were of the same breed.
She plumbed into his mind, and she saw. She saw him skulking through the midday on his way to this school. She saw him stealing the gun from a gang banger in the middle of the night, running from retaliating fire. She saw him leering at the bright world outside he wasn’t allowed into, a hate festering that Jean could only claim she couldn’t understand if she felt like lying to herself. She saw him scorounging for scraps of food while trying to hide from people guarding it, because protecting the excess waste of gross capital was more important than the lives of the poor and downtrodden. She saw him, small, no older than anyone in her own class, retreating as stones were cast his way. She saw him tucked away in his parents basement until he was so hungry he had to escape, only to find his parents had left him. She saw him born a once normal boy. For a time, he could be happy in a world where no one knew what he truly was.
“LEAVE THE GUN, AND GO.”
It was not a word spoken, a suggestion offered. It was a command implanted. She feared the residual effects she could have on a tender mind, yet felt as though she had no other choice, not in this moment. She knew it wasn’t a solution, but she couldn’t think of anything else. She couldn’t alleviate his pain, she couldn’t take him in when she was struggling so much as it was. She couldn’t go to the authorities who would not be helpful or kind. There was no place in this world for he who didn’t ask to be born a monster. He left the gun and crawled back over the fence like nothing was wrong. She waited for him to go before lifting the gun with her mind, drawing out the bullets and dumping them down a drain pipe, before drawing on her pyrokenesis and telekenesis as one, melting and crushing down the gun into a ball and letting it cool before hiding it in a bush.
The rest of the school day seemed to drift by. Her body felt numb as she went through her classes, her post-school meetings, her bus ride home. She packed it all down and away. Leftovers to dig into later. Going up the 8 floors to her apartment, she steeled herself and put on a smile as she reached the door. It opened before she even reached it. Head full of auburn hair, eyes blocked by the red lenses of his sunglasses, a light coat over a security guard uniform, he began, “Hey! They called me in early so I gotta go but Nate’s asleep right now and I made enchiladas! They’re in the fridge and I’ve already got the oven prehea- Jean?”
Scott was suddenly buffeted as Jean rushed into his chest, shaking with sobs that broke out of her once she’d seen the face of the man she loved so much. He wiped the surprise off his face as he sank to his knees with Jean, who couldn’t support her own weight any more. He put his arms around her without hesitation. I’m right here for you. I’m right here. And I’ll always be here. He repeated in his head. He wouldn’t find out the details in this moment, but through her sobs he would be able to make out the phrase that would define the coming years of their life.
“Something has to change.”
S U P P O R T I N G C A S T:
- Scott Grey-Summers: Jean’s husband. Certified Wife Guy (it’s on his cooking apron). Works as a night shift security guard. Cursed with eyes that could blow a hole through a building through his mutant abilities.
- Nathan Grey-Summers: Toddler. Likes eating his crayons even when he’s told not too.
- Leech: Local mutant with no ability other than his alien appearance. Takes a name fit for his position in society. Harbors a deep hatred against the world he’s been cut off from, and Jean has yet to find a means to help him even though he desperately needs it, leaving him as an unchecked ticking time bomb wandering the Baltimore area.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
Hopefully it fits with the current mutant situation as stated in the OP, but if I need to change/tweak anything I gladly will!
Might tweak/tidy some things when it comes to the OOC but I literally went from nothing to this in 5 hours so I think I'm doing alright so far!
RICO
Collab with Hillan
The shift from tourist trap to the more serious buildings of the temple district of Phoenix Beach had the normally bouncy Rico left with a stiffer gait as he walked in step behind. The open spaces were more dominated by heavy stone buildings, sun let onto the roads in part by large glass windows and apses, one or two workers rappelling up and down with water and rags to wipe them down. Colored banners were string from point to point, each slightly transparent and casting their tinted shade down. Rico may or may not have bumped into his guide a couple times while his sights were on the skies, not even noticing the waterways running by the walkways under small bridges.
Soon they crossed a small park with a number of benches, a few men in bright suits or other formal wear enjoying a lunch break. Going up a huge stairway to the large temple, though the stone of the interior was only one color, the furnishings were no less vibrant than the outside. Potted plants dotted the halls, almost making the inside feel more like an outside then the path Rico just walked. They reached a large door, his guide poking his head in and calling. “Bossmans, I brought the kid.” Stepping back, he threw the door open, allowing Rico to step in.
Walking inside the mostly empty room of the lower temple, ornately detailed, the bronze, copper and gold melting together into wonderful shapes, each screaming of the richest, both in money and in culture that stood at the rood of this proud kingdom. A man sat on a chair in the back of the room, built almost as a throne, yet also like an altar. It was up a few steps of stairs. It was clear it wasn’t built for a king, but rather for a spiritual leader, like a priest, a place to preach.
“Come on in, my young boy. Confess your sins, be cleansed in the divine fire of the sun’s ever loving grace.” the man in the seat spoke, his voice booming, almost larger than life. For a couple of seconds, his voice hung in the air, until a mad cackling would replace it “FIFIFIFIFIFIFIFIFIFI Could you IMAGINE?! If I sounded like that?! WOW, what a stuck up he is, that brother of mine!” He leapt out of the chair, suddenly sliding down the short railing, appearing next to Rico, and then suddenly, also appearing on the other side, and once Rico looked back up at the seat, there he was, still sitting. The guard who had let Rico in put a palm to his face. “Ah, shit. Boss is out. Every time.” He said, as one of the triplets, waved him off. The door closed. Leaving the four men alone. Rico’s eyes glanced between the three Trenders, mouth agape.
“I have a business proposition for you, I believe. But, before I can bring my offer to your proverbial table. You are a pirate, yes? One who goes against the law, breaks the natural order of things? Do you believe in pillaging? Stealing? Killing? OOhhh, so exciting!” one of them talked, as the other one on his side spun, gleefully, the jewelry that adorned their hands became seemingly ever more apparent, as if the golden rings, chains, bracelets and so on were blooming out of their bodies.
“Pirates value very little in this world. But as you can see, I have that which all pirates value, gold. In order to be paid handsomely, well, I only ask one thing of you…” He cooed from up in the seat, as he stood up.
“I am so fucking confused right now.”
“Dodge!” All three shouted in unison, as all three of them produced knives from their sleeves, the two on his side cutting down at him, and the one above throwing one knife, yet three knives came at Rico. Gritting his teeth, he caught the two incoming arms. “Do I have to?” Rico’s last words were marked by his exertion as he used the two arms of the Trenders to hoist himself up, knives stabbing into the ground where he stood. Landing back down, he raised his pointer fingers, each of them transformed into a small firework, fizzing as it was ready to fire off. “Because I really don’t have to.” The two twins caught one knife each, the third landing in front of Rico’s foot.
Fenix on the top started snickering as the boy parried his attacks, his two triples did the same. “FIFIFIFI My oh MY do you have some moves, young man! I heard you beat up those filthy, ugly, stinky Triad bastards who were trying to set up on our turf earlier today. Well done. Are you truly a pirate? Or a mere mercenary? A hitman? You here on a whack job?” He was clearly excited at the prospect, pondering Rico’s intentions, sizing the pirate up.
Jabbing his thumb at his own chest, Rico boasted, “I’m Rico, Captain of the Inferno Pirates! We don’t have a ship yet, and my one crewmate…nevermind.”
“I’m a businessman, myself. And business, well, it’s all about rolling with the punches.” The one on Rico’s side spoke, pulling the knife out of the floor, and putting it back into a sheet under his suit jacket. The other one did the same, while also making sure to comb his hair.
“And I believe you seem perfectly fit for dealing some punches. I have a job for someone with your talents, in this cut throat world of shady dealings and illegitimate claims. Ensuring business goes smoothly is all about safeguarding investments, and that’s exactly what I need you to do for me. Secure an investment I have made.” The one who was currently combing his hair spoke, the other two once again started giggling. “FIFIFIFI”
Rico crossed his arms, bowing his head as his face focused in thought. His face flitted between frustration, pain, and regret, before he pointed a finger out. “Maybe! I’m wacky but I’m not gonna whack anyone. And I want safe passage to Shuffle Island in exchange, I won’t take anything less. But if you put words that are too small to read on your contract I’m gonna punch you in the face, cool?”
“He’s gonna punch me in the face? You guys hear this? FIFIFIFI” The one on his side cackled, the other two joining. “Doesn’t even want money, huh? Just safe passage? Yeah, I’ll get you onto a cargo ship, no problem. You like fine silks, kid?” Fenix, now sitting back at the altar spoke. “Inferno Pirates… No crew and no ship? That’s certainly a gutsy move. You know what. Screw the cargo ship. I’ll secure your very own vessel if you do my bidding-”
“It is after all a very important job.” The other one spoke, the third one drafting something, turned around with a quill and a piece of paper.
“There’s been several attempts on a very important individual's life on this island. Our dear, dear prince Aztec has been the victim of professional killers, so far, he’s barely managed to stay alive. But, the rascal uses his regal authority to prevent any of us statesmen from officially policing his safety. Hands are tied, he’s gonna get killed by one of the many, many assassins that are coming for him. Unless you, young Rico, decide to save him.” As he finished speaking, the one to Rico’s side that had been writing on a paper, which he had curled up four or five of into balls and tossed aside while cursing and chuckling under his breath. Finally, he turned around, a grin on his face.
“Here’s a suitable contract, Pirate.”, he had written in as big letters as possible ‘Rico save Prince, Rico Get passage & boat. Signed ___ Signed Chairman Fenix’, his finger tapped where Rico was supposed to sign his signature.
The young man glanced it over. “If you screw me over I’m gonna get my good buddy Wicc and we’re going to have problems Mr. Man, Mann, and Manny.” Through the bellyaching Rico took the quill and roughly scrawled his name down. “That’s the second prince I’ll meet this week! What now?”
“We’re the Fenix Triplets, by the way. We run this city, and make sure things go smoothly, no business that goes awry. Your job is to ensure that well, our investments in prince Aztec do not go to waste. I’ve received information that he is around on Phoenix Beach, but knowing him, he’ll travel all over the island, you shall have to find him. He’s easy to spot. Just follow the sound of chaos.” Fenix spoke, his two twins were nowhere to be seen anymore, only the guy remaining in the seat. Rico, eyes wide again, looked to where the other two were, not spotting anything close to any of the exits.
Scratching his head, he remarked, “Well, that’s annoying but I’ll figure it out. I’m loud and obnoxious so if you need to find me you’ll figure it out. Later!” With a wave of his hand, Rico retraced his steps, getting outside in short order and letting out a long sigh. “Man, is anyone in this town normal? [Rico, Captain of the Inferno Pirates, Local Weirdo]
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