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In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Met with a rush of cool, dry air, Rachel caught her breath, water speckling the pavement from the lot of them. Garfield shifted into a golden lab, moving a polite distance away before shaking himself out. The mages were conferring in Chinese, using magic to accomplish some drying and taking note of any wounds. Pulling off her cloak and attempting to wring it out, to little effect, she saw from the signs reading ‘Riviera Country Club’ that they were in- “...A golf course parking lot?”

The disciple looked over. “It was the best I could think of on short notice!”

As he went back to his conversation, Rachel winced when Garfield suddenly collapsed with a yelp. Turning back into a human, he shifted to a sitting position. In the light of the empty parking lot, she could see spots of blood where he’d been bitten, and his limbs were trembling. Turning to Rachel, he smiled. “Got some MP left in you?”

Shaking her head in disapproval, regardless she approached, cloak squelching as she took a seat, the cool water against her skin already wearing on her patience. “You owe me.” He let out a sigh of relief as she started healing him, her mind muttering the whole while, I can use this, I can use this...

The two looked up as the disciple reached them, stooping down and taking a seat with a grunt. “If you were not there to commune with Baroshtok, then what were you doing?”

Rachel sneered. “I could ask you the same.”

“You struck first, you can answer first.”

Narrowing her eyes for a moment, she sighed before her tongue wove the lies she’d settled on in the last minute or so. “I was meditating when I detected something off about that recycling plant. I wanted to find out why it had a magical signature.”

“And you attacked us because…?”

“You were threatened by my presence and I was outnumbered. What should I have done?”

“I dunno, talked?”

The disciple studied Rachel before admitting to Gar, “No, that can be read as an act of hostility in itself, at least when it comes to mages.” He sighed. “Very well. You may have initiated, but I did escalate. Let’s leave it at that.” Taking a deep breath, he began, “Baroshtok is a being from another dimension. A powerful one. Our discipline had been using a particular vanishing spell to dispose of unwanted materials and banish dangerous objects. Rather than some unknowable void, they were being sent to a region in realms beyond ruled by Baroshtok. They believed they were receiving tributes of worship from some primitive beings, and investigated. When they discovered we were using his domain as a garbage dump, they were outraged, demanding recompense. We settled on an arrangement: for ten years we would be allowed to continue using our vanishing spell while we discovered a new one, but they would also be allowed to use our home to offload their garbage in exchange. This is the last year and they’ve gotten even more aggressive about the sent waste. I’m thankful they give us warning about where their refuse is offloaded, but mostly it’s been at that plant. The magical signature you detected was the result of the plant being used for ten years as Baroshtok’s dumping ground. When all of this is over, it will be gone in another few years, I’m sure.” Rachel’s shoulders fell, as did her expression. “This time was more dangerous than ever. I would have needed backup, but you had the problem well in hand, so I should thank you.”

As Rachel retreated into herself mentally, losing focus, Garfield turned from her to the mage, butting in, “Hey, the, uh, necromancy: what’s up with that?”

“Ah. Baroshtok’s dimension is a plane closer to the natural order of the universe, more primordial and much more in tune with magic. Even their equivalent to bugs can tap into it through sheer instinct and affinity, where we need years of study to emulate that power. The corpse was closer in kind to Baroshtok: I prey it was found already infested and sent here. I shudder to think if Baroshtok deliberately sent the bug filled corpse, but I will report this to my superior. There’s nothing for you two to worry about.” Satisfied, he began to turn off, but finished, “You are rather talented, girl. If you wish to further yourself in magical arts, you are welcome to come with me.”

Eyes shooting up at him, Rachel’s head not moving at all, she clicked her tongue. “Not interested.”

Giving a slight nod, he simply replied. “Right then.” Moving away, he waved the other two along and summoned one last portal, vanishing into the night.

-----

Still too exhausted to move far, the two teens made their way to a bench to catch their breath, shivering as they tried to air dry. A security guard wandered by, but they were able to wave him off with promises that they’d be gone soon. He just laughed at the assumption that they’d been caught in the sprinklers while messing around, but Garfield was just glad he didn’t get crap for being a mutant.

Calming his lip as it trembled from the chill, Garfield asked, “You okay?”

Rachel bit her lip, nails digging into her knee. She tried to stand, but her legs didn’t listen. So instead she just lowered her head, getting as close as she could to a fetal position before letting out a scream. A primal shout of disdain and palpable frustration. The nearby plants and foliage shuddered and shook, black magic tearing leaves and weak branches apart. Garfield himself was buffeted, holding firm by sheer instinct. Once it was quelled, she sat up, breathing heavily. “I have a mission. A purpose. I’ve been training for years. My father prepared me to do his bidding, and I was going to invoke his name over literal garbage.” Looking down at her hand, she bared her teeth before biting down, catching a fold of flesh behind her knuckle. She didn’t draw blood even as she held for a few seconds, but the teeth marks were very visible when she pulled away. It seemed to calm her, and the recognition only made Garfield’s heart sink even further. “I don’t need your pity. The only one I care about thinks I’m trash, or rightfully should after that display.” Once again she tried to stand, and once again she failed utterly, letting out a cry of frustration.

“...I don’t think you’re trash.” Garfield said meekly. Rachel didn’t respond. Garfield still didn’t even know her name. He barely knew anything about her. Yet still, he sat here, refusing to leave her side. How could he? For everything he didn’t know, the blanks he filled in were painting another picture. He couldn’t imagine what personal demons she was fighting. Earlier when she said the mages were ‘trying to stop her’ he assumed she’d trashed the plant for no particular reason but to lash out, releasing something bottled up inside. Even if he’d been wrong then, it wasn’t wrong now. Maybe Gar was being unimaginably cocky, but dammit, for as messed up as his life was, he felt like leaving this girl alone was the worst thing he could possibly do.

“Hey...did I ever get your name?”

She sat silently for a few seconds, before weakly croaking out, “Rachel.”

Garfield gave a slow, solemn nod. “Okay...Ray-Ray.” Her eyes flashed red.

“Don't you dare!”
“Don't you dare!”

Garfield held up his hands, the edges of his lips cracking into a smile despite himself. Nostrils flaring, Rachel cooled down. That brief moment of anger targeted at something else brought her back to her senses. She realized what bothered her about Garfield: sensing his emotions only baffled her more and more as he refused to have the reaction she expected from him.

“Look, you messed up once. It’s not the end of the world!” Rachel didn’t have the energy to retort. “I don’t know who your dad is-” Rachel turned on him, so he decided to choose his next words wisely, “...But if he can’t accept one failure from you then I don’t know if what he expects is really all that reasonable. Is it really that bad?”

Rachel rubbed the part of her hand she bit moments ago, the teeth marks being replaced by red irritation. “I’ve never failed before.”

“Uh, have you ever even seriously tried something before now?” Rachel’s resounding silence told Garfield enough. He kept his last follow up to himself, instead offering, “Annnd...what if I helped you?”

Once the words sank in, Rachel nearly jumped out of her spot. “Wh-what?” Garfield hadn’t heard anyone be that audibly thrown for a loop before, her words weak and lacking all her normal bluster.

“Well, you’re like a witch and I can be your familiar! Would you prefer toad *gribbit*, cat *meooow*, rat *squeaksqueak*, snake *sssss*, or owl *hoo?*”

Rachel’s expression was beyond frustration. “No! And if you turn into an owl again I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to a dog.”

Back to normal, Garfield grinned. “Aw come on you look like you loved Harry Potter when you were a kid!”

“No, I didn’t, because books and movies are a waste of time!”

“Not enough of a waste if you knew enough to catch the reference!”

Rachel planted her palm on her forehead gem, letting out a long, tired sigh. Taking a breath, she finally found the energy to stand, mystifying herself as much as she surprised Garfield. “You know what? If you really think you have what it takes to be my familiar, we can do the ritual tomorrow. But frankly I don’t think you have it in you. You don’t even know what my mission is.”

Getting combative, Garfield stood. “Can’t be that bad. We kicked that corpse’s butt!”

Rachel turned on him, looking up at the taller boy. “I want to emblazon my father’s sigil on enough places of magical power to call him here to Earth, where he’ll inhabit my form and use the charred corpse of this worthless rock called Earth as a stepping stone to make the whole dimension fall to his boundless power.”

“...”

“...”

“...What?”
In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
With a roar, Garfield swatted the first two parasites that charged him with casual slaps of his grizzly paw. One flopped about, nearby bisected, screeching in distress, while the other was more or less intact, bouncing back immediately only to be shrouded in darkness and flung aside, crashing into the metal opening of a cardboard baler and flopping out of sight. Rachel did the same to the next parasites to come at them. The third and second bashed into the first before the metal gate crashed down, sealing the parasites in side before the baler started into motion, a press made to compact hundreds of cardboard boxes slowly falling upon the writhing intruders. In moments they’d be splattered about the machine's innards, but Rachel would be rather distracted. A few of the parasites overwhelmed Garfield, biting into his flesh. He let out a snarl of pain before digging his teeth into one on his arm, ripping it off. The skin tore, fur speckled with blood, but it held firm.

“Ả̴̹z̵̢̋̕a̴̩͛̂r̵̲̯̈͘a̴̧͙̍̿t̸̡̛̠̿h̵͙̋ ̵̲̺̒M̷̤̒͐è̵̡t̵͊͆͜ṙ̸̥̣i̸̩̙͆̏ȍ̶̯̪͠ņ̵̃ ̵̛̯̦̚Ż̴͚ḯ̵̫n̴̰̔̔ṱ̷̒̇h̷̲̲̒ơ̵̙̫s̶̛̤͈!̴̨͎̅” came Rachel’s cry, a valley of darkness carving through the corpse. A few parasites were caught in the path, torn asunder, but the greatest effect was that it gave many of the others pause, blocking their potential route. Garfield didn’t hesitate to make use of the opportunity, turning into a bright green hummingbird, the gorging parasites flopping to the ground, grasping for anything in reach with their maws. Wings beating like mad, he zipped upwards before shifting into a bulky hippopotamus, turning the parasites beneath him to jelly.

Standing up, now in his human form, he grunted, “Ow. Big things really do fall hard...” Putting some distance between himself and the corpse, the two of them watched the parasites write, their howls reaching a crescendo of sorts. The bodies of the fallen began to fluctuate, sticking to one another to form grotesque, shattered chimeras their few parts still amalgamating in all the wrong ways.

Rachel had never been so bewildered. “Did they just cast necromancy?”

“Wizard zombie corpse worms?! That middle part just feels redundant,” Garfield echoed with his own disbelief, kicking the nearest one away with his tennis shoe. A glob of fused parasites shuffled awkwardly on the ground towards Garfield, the young man took a stance to change before the very air rippled, bisecting it horizontally. Rachel and Gar turned to see the disciple had awoken.

“It’s not so strange, not where they’re from.” Garfield turned into a gorilla, wailing on the nearest parasite zombies and ripping them apart again, Rachel hissed, “Ä̵̻̉z̷̥̃͠a̶͉͝r̶̛͜a̴͚̹͋t̴̯̀h̴̛͕ ̴̧̛̳̈́M̴̠̈́e̵̟̚t̵̞̭͆̍r̷̛͖͒ḯ̵̟o̴̪͠n̴̥̿̈́ ̶̢̹͊̑Z̶̧̐ḯ̸̠̚n̴̰̏̈ͅt̶͚̐̚h̵̘̯̓̆ǒ̴̠̜͂s̶̨̺͋!̸̱̿̇” The whole of the corpse’s side shuddered, flipping up and over, Rachel turning it around and trapping some of the parasites underneath.

“Magic is a primal force of nature. It’s humanity that has left magic, not magic that has left humanity.” Clapping his hand together, the space in front of him twisted and warped, sparks of flame encircling another window through space. Rachel winced as a rush of hot air and stench of sulfur washed over her. Orange-yellow light washed into the room, and smoke started to rise from the gateway to a far off volcano. “Thus we simply return it all to nature.”

Rachel exchanged looks with Garfield, who stopped his carnage to swap forms. “You chop it up, I put it in the bowl?” Rachel’s acceptance was silent, the girl throwing on her hood and floating up into the air, arms out to the side “Ä̵̲͉́̀z̷̹͙̃a̴̻̍͘r̵̹͝ä̵͍́͊ṯ̵̽h̶̓́͜ ̵͇̝̄͠M̸̜̹̋̽ȅ̸͙t̵̢͂̍r̴͎̭̕ȋ̶͓͇̚o̸̜̞͐̍n̶͕͑͆ ̶̤̤͒Z̴͖̗̀̉ĩ̴̦̚ṅ̶̥̆ẗ̷̤̲́ẖ̶̺͌o̸͓̐ş̸͂̂!̴̳̂̔” She grew winded as she tore into the corpse yet again, striking carefully. Her head pounded from exertion, and with a wave of her magic one of the chunks rolled towards the portal, a couple parasites slipping off. Garfield took the form of gibbon, scrambling over before landing in the shape of a horse, back legs kicking out to knock the alien flesh into the gate where it smacked against the molten stone and caught alight. Switching to an orangutan, his long lanky limbs grabbed the two closest parasites before sending them to follow.

In tandem, the two were able to maintain the flow, redirecting the monsters heading to rip them to shreds and the corpse they spawned from into their molten doom. Shoving the last piece of corpse in with one last distance squelch, Rachel returned to ground level, rife with sweat, and collapsed to her knees. Garfield went to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You cool?”

Rachel narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth only for alarms to ring out, the smoke detector sounding off even with mild circulation from the still opened shutters. With groans throughout the ceiling, a sprinkler system kicked off, drizzling the ground in stagnant water smelling of rust. The alien blood began to flow, diluted. Stare blank, Rachel murmured, “No.”

Gar managed a smile as the portal began to close, but a banging made itself known from the cardboard baler. From the opening crawled one last parasite, formerly three, crushed into one flat pulp. “Keep the portal open!” Garfield called, the gate reversing its motion as the disciple heeded his call. Gar sprinted to meet the awkward shuffling mass, and once he was about a dozen feet away his form shrank down into that of a crocodile. Lunging forward, his jaws ripped into the parasite glob and held fast. Clawed feet clacking against the slick concrete, he flipped about, skulking towards the hole, the less crushed extremities of the parasite awkwardly flailing as they tried to do any kind of damage. Rachel floated aside as Garfield reached the portal. But the small legs of the crocodile weren’t made for endurance like those of man or horse. Giving out on the slick ground, Garfield’s nails scraped against the ground, failing to find traction as he slid right into the portal.

Rachel’s stomach seemed to fall. The opening began to shrink. Hr lips faltered, but she managed to choke out, “Don’t!” Shaking his head, once again the disciple opened the portal. Smoke continued to belch out, water rained down, and Rachel waited.

There was a flash of green as a hawk streaked out of the gate. Turning human, Garfield splashed down onto the floor. “Okay, you can close it now!” With a groan, he collapsed to the floor, letting out a loud “Whew!” Her adrenaline draining, Rachel’s legs gave out.

Head scanning back and forth, spotting the still unconscious apprentices and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles from the city starting to come down the out skirting roads, the disciple looked to Rachel. “You’re not hear to commune with Baroshtok?” Rachel’s bafflement made the answer self evident. “Then...no, we will talk elsewhere. Somewhere safe, nearby, and deserted.” Leaving the two of them be, he went to each of the apprentices and shook them awake. As they were apparently unharmed, the disciple opened another portal, the two hopping through. Garfield began to move, groaning as his body resisted, but he stopped, holding a hand out to Rachel. “Nice job back there.”

Rachel felt her nose crinkle. She made a motion to knock his hand aside yet again, but the encroaching sirens echoing from over the empty land around the dump made themselves known. Reluctantly, she took his waterlogged hand, Garfield helping her to her feet and the two of them slipping through the portal, which closed promptly. A few minutes later, a pair of firetrucks and an ambulance parked outside the complex. Outfitted in his gear and pack, the firefighter grimacing at the smell of sulfur and rot. Looking at the profound mess of unrecognized monster blood and viscera, scattered aluminum cans, waterlogged cardboard, and a sweltering humidity from the sprinklers and lingering heat from a distant volcano, he dropped his mask and gawked, “What in the unholy hell happened here?”
In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
“Jean I...you...can-” Scott stopped, leaning his head up before flopping back in his seat. Jean felt her spirits deflating, but at the same time there was a shade of amusement in seeing him squirm like never before. His thoughts were bouncing all over the place: gripes of befuddlement, tidbits of fear, and a conflict of a deep respect for his wife with the new need to reconcile with- “I just don’t understand how you can think of something so reckless!”

Nathan let out a low whine, so Jean plopped him on the floor and watched him shuffle off to play with some of his blocks. “Look, it’s just… After yesterday I’ve been thinking a lot about what to do about, well, not even just the mutant kid. But that was what started it. I think this can be a way to make a better world for mutants!”

Scott gave a slow nod. He lowered the volume on the TV. “Sure, but there’s also activism, which is less...illegal.” The TV was on some daytime television, but the vague gesture conveyed plenty of his intent. “I really don’t think the government is going to let this go. It’s catching on fast: the news can’t keep up at all. There’s plenty of heroes and there will be plenty more.”

“Are there any here in Baltimore yet?”

Scott was given pause, licking his lips before flipping the channel to local news. They happened to be covering some sightings in Washington D.C., concerns being cited about the safety of government officials, but it was quiet on the home front. Scott picked up his phone, typing in a search before scanning the results and giving up. “Well Google sucks but no, there aren’t any Baltimore heroes yet.” Cracking a smile he admitted, “You got me there but you’re not out of the woods yet!” Heel bouncing up and down, he let out a sigh before relenting, “I know you have nothing but good intent, and you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through.”

Jean leaned forward, reaching a hand out and stroking Scott on the knee, the limb slowing to a stop. He took a breath to steady himself. “I know you don’t want me to get hurt, but even if I don’t become a hero, I can’t abandon him, and he might hurt me if I try to reach out. I’m strong: me and those inhibitors never got along, you know that.” Scott shuddered. Jean didn’t need to peek into his mind as he recalled her recounting a childhood of drugs and prayer used to keep her powers in check. In high school she’d taken him to the ruins of an old mansion, crushed and burnt. Officially it was blamed on vandals, but Jean claimed her parents brought her there to try and ‘let it all out’. She didn’t even remember a bit of it, just that she’d been told it hadn’t worked. What followed had no doubt been more inhibitors, more sedatives, more prayer, more memory loss. Even if the systems in place worked for most, some slipped through the cracks. Some weren’t a fit at all. “I could use some practice, but I can think that I can do more.”

Scott flashed his teeth in a grimace. He looked over at Nathan, who’d just collapsed a block tower, letting out a squeal of surprise and looking over at his parents, who gave smiles and waves. “I’m sure if you had this thought last year-”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have heard the start of it.” Newborns were always a handful, and Nathan had been no different. Even having made the work schedules work to ensure he had constant care, things were much calmer now all things considered. While he was certainly rambunctious, Jean had begun to suspected he had mutant powers already (though Scott insisted it was parental bias: the tendency for the average kid to be seen as above average by their parents). Still, he had an uncanny sense of picking up on emotions, staying away in this moment of parental agitation. He was also more than willing to playing on his own for fair periods of time. Maybe he would be the loner type? He certainly wasn’t at a lack for parental smothering, but if he wanted space Jean and Scott were more than eager to give it to him. He even tended to sleep when they did. Usually. He had his bad days naturally, but he was a goddamn angel.

“I don’t know if you can be a superhero and a teacher. We need the money, and if anyone is going to quit I’d rather it be me. You already help those kids just by being there for them! Having the calendar so they can set up days to talk to you in private, I love that! And you make more money than me. Things are hurting enough as it is.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “You said you didn’t want to let our student debts get in the way of doing what we want to do.”

“Yeah, like...travel.”

“Look, I think there’s some areas I can be a bit more efficient. I can cut an hour more of sleep, I already can’t stay awake for long. I think Nathan’s prevented me from ever having deep sleep again. And let’s not think about if we ever do decide to have another kid.”

“Wait, you are thinking about another kid?!”

“No! Well, not soon!” Scott puffed out his cheeks, before bursting out in a chortle. Jean slapped him on the shoulder but she was laughing too.

Catching his breath. “Two kids, a teaching career, and a superhero? You really are a Superwoman.”

“I can come up with a better name than that… I was thinking, like, resilience. Mutants have been tread on for so long, but we’re strong and can be stronger.”

“Like as in just 'Resilience'? Hmm, we could workshop it.”

“No something that gives the idea of resilience. Like...'Firebird'. Rising from the ashes again and again. And...you know.” She waved her fingers, imitating the motion of fire.

Scott thought on it for a moment, before blurting, “...So if we stick to a mythological creature thing I would be 'Cyclops'?”

Jean gawked. “Well they’re usually just evil monsters. And wouldn’t it be 'Biclops'?”

Shaking his head, Scott revealed, “I took some videos before to see what my beams were like, years ago. They end up becoming one, so it’s like I have one eye.” He mimed his own laserbeams, two hands coming from his eyes and lightly clapping to form one.

Jean stared “...You’ve thought about this before. You’ve been thinking about!” Planting a hand on her face she gave a smile of disbelief, standing up.

“Of course I have! Everyone’s thought about being a superhero, or having superpowers.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“If you don't believe me you could always check!” Scott tapped his fingers against his brain case. Jean shook her head. She knew that he had no interest in being a hero himself. He was happy with things as they were and Jean wanted to upend that for her selfish desires. Selfless in the macro sense, sure, but with a heavy cost to their domestic life.

Feeling Nathan tug at her pant leg, she lifted him up, pecked him on the cheek, and sat back down. “Do you wanna be a superhero? Huh?”

“Bbabababa.”

“I don’t think the news outlets will be able to spell that name very well but it’s bold! Daring!”

Scott whispered to him, “Go with Cable.” Jean gave him a look. “He pulled the cable from behind the TV and tried to bite it earlier. I dunno, it just hit me.” Jean shook her head, and Scott reached over, running his fingers across her cheek, catching a lock of her hair. “Even if I wasn’t terrified of losing you, do you think you can go out there and fight knowing what might happen if your identity gets out there? I’m so glad we’re talking about this and I’m not finding out the Fantastic Firebird on the news is my lovely wife in a goofy mask, but what happens when everyone else finds out?”

Jean winced, her face screwing up in pain as she imagined the worst case. It was far from the last thing she thought of. In fact, it was first. The elephant in the room Scott finally paid mind to. She reached up and clutched his hand, running a thumb across its back. “I know,” she silently mouthed.

Scott gave her a long hard look, then took a long hard sigh. Nathan took a few steps across the couch towards him. “Well, I trust you with my life. If you still think it’s a good idea, I’ll be behind you every step of the way.” Tapping his sunglasses, he added, “If some bad guy knocks on the door maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to figure this thing out. But I just don’t want you to have second thoughts when its too late. No half arsing something, full arse it. Oh, oop.”

Scott’s careful words were punctuated with Nathan grabbing his sunglasses and gradually pulling them from his face. Jean sat up straight, but Scott only smiled, eyes perfectly closed. “We’re good, we do this all the time.” Scott took Nathan up from his underarms before placing him on the ground, letting him run off, Scott’s sunglasses waving in his hand. Scott quietly counted to ten before standing up, carefully stalking after the child, trapped in his pen. He didn’t collide with anything, brushing lightly against their table and couch before swooping in on Nathan with a playful growl, the toddler screaming in glee. Curling on the couch as he put his glasses back on and wrestled with Nathan, she felt her heart melting. Came out of the eyes for some reason. Beating back tears, so too did her doubts wash away, as she saw the two things she most loved in the world somehow give her something she never would have had the courage to ask for or the confidence to think she deserved: more to love.

Jean and Scott had gone through so much that she didn’t want Nathan to go through as well, if he was as much a mutant as them. For all that she’d been blessed with, in order to give Nathan what he deserved, she’d have to find her wings, and fly.
In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Since the topic of interactions came up and I didn’t get around to chiming in, I will say that Jean should be potentially ready in a handful of posts. Aside from some interactions with the other X-Men (some discussion with Hillan already having happened and some stuff with Andy/Logan already suggested), Superman makes sense when @Master Bruce is ready since he was a big inspiration for Jean becoming a hero. @Lord Wraith’s Iron Man seems to be inevitable, it’s just a matter of figuring out if it’ll be on good faith between the two or not.

The Titans are going to take a bit longer to be ready since I want to have them assembled under Roxxon first, and there's some ground to cover until then. Once they are, bumping shoulders with Allblade or S.T.A.K.E. (@Hillan@Roman) is within reason so Raven can play damage control if they poke their nose in about the whole ‘harbinger of Earth’s doom’ shtick. I also couldn’t help but notice @Pirouette tease Roxxon in the game before I did, so maybe Silk could have a chance to be a Titan for a day!
In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
There was a light clunk of metal echoing from just outside Rachel’s consciousness. The kid had grabbed a tin first aid kit from the warehouse. “Antiseptic, a bunch of bandaids...this isn't enough gauze. Why don’t they stock these things? Never mind the other guy in there also covered in blood, everything's fine, you got this you got this...”

“Just pull it out,” Rachel sighed, tired of his snivelling.

“Uh, I can’t do that. Its the only thing keeping your blood inside you right now.”

“Just do it!” Her eyes flashed red and her teeth grew sharper for just a moment. She felt his apprehension mix with fear and unease.

“Here goes nothin’!” Green mitts wrapping around the blade of ice, he began, “On three, okay? One, two-” SKRICH

Rachel’s shout of pain rang out. She saw stars where there were none. Raising her hand, she returned in to her wound, white energy once again stitching it back together. The teen boy watched in awe as the skin was healed. The black T-shirt was still gashed, and the blood was by no means replenished. “Why would you do that, whelp?” Opening her eyes she finally got a better look at him. His clothes were on the dirty side: a pair of jeans with tattered sleeves and a white T-shirt with golden hexagon logo. More curiously, his skin, hair, and eyes were all completely green, like he’d been dipped in a pot of St. Patrick’s ichor.

“Come on, you’ve seen it on TV, right? If you were ready you’d brace for it and it’d hurt even worse.”

Rachel scowled, “It hurts worse if you don’t see it coming, trash child.”

She smiled inwardly as she felt his spirits sink. That feeling was swiftly buried in a rush of alarm. “We gotta help that guy in there, come on!” Standing up, he reached his hand out. Rachel slapped it away before trying to stand. She didn’t make it higher up than her elbows could prop her up before she suffered a dizzy spell, collapsing back down. “Uh, sorry, just bear with me for a minute and then you can rest.” Rachel’s heart jumped as he reached his arms beneath her shoulders and legs, hoisting her up. Had the motion not further stressed her lack of energy, she might have tried to bite his throat out. Instead she was reduced to a wrathful glare, dark tendrils of energy emanating off her. He didn’t even register it as he lowered her down by the mage cut by her own magic. At this boy’s mercy despite all personal desire, she relented, raising her hand and using her magic to restore the disciple’s wounds. His slow, ragged breathing became a little bit softer.

Relaxing visible, the green mutant flopped down. “Alright. Not bad. What even happened here?”

“Better question: what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere with nothing better to do?”

“Oh my, how rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself.” Running his hands through his messy hair, he flashed a smile. “Name’s Garfield, milady.” Before her eyes, he shrunk in form, becoming a striped shorthair cat with a grumpy looking face and more than a bit of pudge and as many shades of green as he’d been before. Turning back to himself, crouched in the same feline pose, he grinned, “I’m not voiced by Chris Pratt though.”

“...Unfortunate.”

“Well, if you must know, I’m a mutant who was part of H.I.V.E. until I got kicked out. I’ve kinda been homeless for a while. Been bumming some meals out here as a rat lately. Turns out Ratatouille was bullshit and they don’t have much of a sense of taste at all. I saw the lights go on, heard some banging, and thought I’d investigate.”

Rachel’s mouth twitched in disgust. It was all so absurd, so pathetic. This was the person who saved her? Pushing against the ground, she wrenched through the lingering pain and fatigue, sitting up properly with a twisted smile on her face. She began to giggle, then laugh, then cackle. “Little creature on this disgusting rock floating through space, digging through trash. Is that how you want to live? Pathetic.” His smile didn’t fall but, but she saw through him. “I did this. They were trying to stop me. You think you’re being helpful? That charity is a virtue?” Rachel took a dark shape. The shadow stretched wide, like two wings spreading. The beak of a bird pierced the air towards the heavens before angling down at Garfield, four red eyes burning down. Her voice, disembodied, sounded out, “So ignorant and blind. You really are just a rat in the dark scrounging at scraps better than any of you humans deserve. I’m impressed that you can live with yourself. How do you feign your happiness?” Like predator preparing to engulf prey, she drank in his emotions, waiting for the moment he broke. His sadness was like fine wine, his disappointment a classy buffet. But then the taste went sour as a sensation of pity came. The following spark of hope was like a spice of capsaicin to keep her tongue at bay.

He gave a smile, his pronounced canines on full display. Even as it concealed a deep pain, he still remarked, “I’m happy because...we have to be happy.”

The dark raven lingered for a few moments, before shrinking back. Rachel hadn’t moved, sitting in the same position, but her expression had returned to relative neutrality, her eyes narrowed. His broad platitudes did nothing for her except make her interest deflate like a dead balloon. With some difficulty, she stood, her balance faltering before she found relative stability.

Then she lost it. There was a rumble, easily mistaken for an earthquake. She fell into Garfield’s arms, the boy hovering by just in case of this exact possible outcome. They looked at the air as a white fissure seemed to erupt from nothing. The air seemed to drain from the chamber only to rush back just as quickly alongside a deluge of matter from nowhere. Black and white flesh materialized in high volumes, spilling out a lime green liquid. It bashed against the ground, more seeming to come.

Gar’s finger jabbed across the way to one of the fallen apprentices before he released his hands. “Get him outta here!” he called before pulling away. There was a low roar as he shifted into a humongous tiger, teeth snagging the disciple’s collar before he whipped his neck, flinging him to safety. Four legs pumping against the ground he hurtled to the next one, scooping him up and carrying him off just in time as another mass of foreign flesh crashed.

Feet leaving the ground, head pounding, she hissed, “Don’t order me around!” Despite her words, the girl so often lacking in self decided direction moved into action. One of the metal baskets she’d used early sprung to life, screeching across the ground and scooping up the disciple from the head and shoulders, pushing him along once he was mostly inside. The foreign substance crashed down, but the metal didn’t give, even as white robes became splattered in whatever Trigon-forsaken spew was making a mess of everything.

With everyone out of danger, Rachel and Garfield hung back as they waited for the chaos to settle. From her elevated point of view, Rachel saw a former being unlike any she’d heard of before. It seemed to have had at least 6 limbs previously, but was heavily dismembered, as though ripped apart. The appendages she could make out were either akin to tentacles with bumps like scales or nails, or the one remaining thin arm ending off in a double hand, four fingers on each. It’s skin was black while its inner flesh was white, whatever liquid its body possessed still dripping out. If there had been a head, it was missing entirely.

“Coooooool. Friend of Godzilla’s?”

Rachel sneered. “How so?” Floating a bit closer, she observed, “It’s not of this world. Or dimension.”

“An alien fell on us? I knew my animal magnetism would be more of a curse than a blessing.”

Rachel shook her head, ignoring him. “I’m not worried about what it is.” Eyes tracing a line across its wounds, she finished, “I’m worried about what killed it.”

With there being no sign of another incursion, Rachel considered her task. She had come here due to picking up on this location’s magical presence, operating purely on the objective truth of what she sensed rather than the assumption that such a mundane location detached from the natural world couldn’t harbor any sort of magical affinity. And judging by the coincidence of her arrival, the mage trio, and now this corpse from beyond, there was no mistaking that something was odd about this place. Off to the side, Garfield had turned into a bloodhound, sniffing the area around the body. Though she wanted to place her sigil and leave, she was pushed by her curiosity, floating closer to the body. Raising her hands, she opened her mouth, but all that came out was a scream. Bursting from the corpse a long head with a sharp beak clacked at the air, opening its maw to reveal rows of teeth. Without warning, it lunged at Rachel.

With a wave of her hand, a barrier of her dark magic appeared, the teeth tearing through the shield like it was paper. Rachel got away with a scratch, cradling her fresh wound with her other hand as she backed away, the parasite moving to lunge again. There was a rush of green. A lion swooped in, the larger animal holding the monster in its teeth. A heavy paw pressed down on its longer form and the lion stretched its neck, wrenching the pest’s face from the rest of its body. It twisted and tore with a sound more like that of rubber than flesh, but once it gave, its gore spilled out all the same.

Returning to his human form, Garfield asked, “You okay?”

Rachel opened her mouth to answer, her wound healing quickly enough with a bit of magic, but the sounds of writhing sent chills down her back. With pops and squelches, the massive corpse was peppered with more of the parasites, screeching as they engaged with the air, turning their beaks on their next victims.
In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
It wasn’t the relative heat that was bothersome even so late into the night. It was the stench. Out in the fringes of Los Angeles, a figure floated through the dark without pause. The far off lights of the cityscape kept the night’s eyes closed. The earth too was blocked off, blanketed in a sea of waste: torn bags of garbage, old appliances, roaches and rats tittering about the refuse. It gave off the kind of scent that seemed to stick to the skin and the innards of the nostrils. Low heat emanated from piles as though remnants lingered from the day’s sun.

Reaching a concrete building, a hand waved from the blue cloak, black energy phasing out with a whisper, taking away all color and appearance of worldliness. A metal shutter shrieked and rumbled as it scraped, the ruins of a lock clattering to the ground. The cloak barely tickled the ground as the intruder entered the darkness. One more wave of the hand had a light switch flipped up, bathing the large room and its contents in light. Pallets of crushed soda cans, cardboard bales, empty metal baskets... A few pests skittered out of sight.

The figure lowered her hood, black hair spilling out, a red diamond shaped gem set and gleaming on the forehead. She brushed a hand on a red brooch emblazoned on the front of her cloak before crossing her legs, clad in black stockings with slashes deliberately made throughout. Above the floor, Rachel Roth hovered in meditation, lips painted dark red murmuring other tongues. The air itself seemed to his and twist like lines of heat burned in. A faint red glow spilled from the slight cracks in her eyelids, and she raised a hand, tracing it it the air, the light left behind forming a sigil in the air made of several layered on top of each other as she wrote. Sparks started to fly, but it was not her doing. There was a hiss as something began to carve into the room as a burglar tool through glass through the air itself. Rachel’s mouth slowed to a stop and her eyes shot open, fading from full red to her usual purple tinted blue irises. The sigil dissipated and she unfurled her legs, raising her hands defensively as the portal reached its completion, opening to a space beyond. A pair of feet hopped to the ground, a man of asian heritage in deep red robes looking at Rachel with eyes wide. Two more in gray followed, the portal closing behind them. Their hands glowing as they raised them, matching Rachel’s wariness. She didn’t need to see their expressions and body language to read their hearts: unease, anxiety, confusion, and not nearly enough fear.

The spoke to each other in hushed tones. “Mó fǎ shī zài zhè lǐ gān shén me?” The apparent leader shook his head, not breaking is vision away from Rachel. He began to open his mouth, but the opposer struck first. Three of the man sized metal baskets went dark before being flung through the air. The two apprentices dove to the ground as the iron clattered and bounced across the concrete. Their leader made a circle with his fingers, another portal appearing both above him and by Rachel. She didn’t even have time to process before her own projectile knocked her to the ground.

“What do you think you are trying to do here?!” the mage demanded in English.

Teeth gnashing, Rachel propped herself up. Her eyes shone, and she spat out her chant, “A̵̧̦̍̑z̵̩̩͂̎ā̸̢̺r̸͕͂ȧ̵̬̼͆ẗ̴̢͔ĥ̷̖̲ ̴͕͊͝M̴͕̩̋̑ẻ̵̖̻̎t̶͕̓͗ř̷̦̀i̸̳̩͂ò̸̻͎n̸̦̅ ̷͎̪̉Z̴̩̮̍i̵̫͆n̶̝̚t̴͙͓̏̿h̴̺̐ǫ̶́s̸͇͠ͅ!” She floated upwards, swinging her arms as the room began to shiver. Full pallets bound with steel wire floated upwards before hurtling themselves at the trio. The two apprentices could only run, the pallets bursting when they hit the ground, a deluge of cardboard drowning them, snapped metal wires scratching into the floor. The disciple acted decisively, hopping onto the cardboard bale and leaping from it before it hit the ground underneath him. With a wave of his hands, the moisture in the air hardened into an array of ice blades before launching Rachel’s way. The area around her engulfed in blackness and she sank into the floor, knives shattering about the ground where she’d been. The disciple landed, tucking into a roll before swivelling his head, keeping wits about him. In the moment of quiet, he waved his hands, the unconscious bodies of his allies floating upwards towards a portal he wove into being. Behind him, a shadow loomed, rising up from the ground like a bird taking flight. He turned about, dropping his hand, but it was a moment too slow. A talon formed of dark magic came down on him, tearing through his robe, blood spattering to the ground. He fell, and Rachel rose, hovering over the destruction, head raised in pride.

It didn’t last long. She collapsed to the floor. Shoving her cloak aside, she placed her hand on an ice knife that had dug into her side. The biting cold was agony in her wound, and she couldn’t get a good grip on the offending blade, weak fingers slipping off. She gasped out for air, hand glowing in white as she pressed the limb to the wound. The cut stitched together, but it only caused her worse agony as it tightened on the blade in her flesh. The healing had allowed the blood flow to stem somewhat, but Rachel broke out into a sweat as she tried to run through her options, energy draining with every drop of melted ice. “No, no, no! Not like this! I haven’t even managed one!” she hissed in frustration to no one but herself. Gasping out, she took to the air once again, her levitation unstable as she headed back towards the shutter door. Once again in sight of the L.A. vista, she hesitated, the distance she had to cover seeming vast. Falling back to the ground, she cried out in pain, having stumbled on this first step.

----

“...Six hundred and sixty six?”

“You find this amusing?”

The deep rumble of her father’s voice shook this realm. It was not a large one: the empty void was a space between space, inhabited by bubbles of dreams in between worlds. It was where Rachel had first met her father roughly 5 years ago. She existed in this void, and far off, impossibly massive, was a many sets of glowing orange eyes, stacked and towering to give the image of a presence beyond eternity. Her heart quivered with admiration, awe, and fear. So much fear.

“It’s...a significant number in Christian mythos. The coincidence was...amusing, yes, for reasons hard to explain.”

He smiled. She didn’t see it, for it was beyond her. She simply knew, and that knowledge offered her no warmth. Rather she felt stripped and transparent to the all seeing gaze of Trigon. A pit came to her stomach as she feared his reaction to her condescending him, as though the idea of overplayed edge and cultural concepts being reduced to memes would somehow be beyond him. But he did not admonish her, he merely explained, “Humans take great pride in their sentimentality, their emotion. Spires erected for superstition. Numbers held about as truth even as they are merely a shoddy attempt to reconcile with and understand a reality so far beyond them. It gives me joy to render such vapid assertions asunder. I shall not repeat myself: engrave my sigil on 666 places of magical power on Earth, and I can manifest myself through your form.” Rachel recalled his description of the eventual, inevitable event, as Earth would be reduced to a wasteland of flame and bone. Her material body would be shed and she would become Trigon’s avatar, her sense of self being erased. It brought her no fear. Failing her father made her fear. Being unable to live up to his expectations made her fear. To imagine the world of fire made her ecstatic. To imagine herself erased to give passage to her father left her with a feeling of peace.

-----

Rachel lay on the ground in the garbage dump, blurry vision blending the night lights into one mass of white, yellow, and red, shimmering in the shuddering of her eyelids. She seethed. Let it all burn.

In the last dregs of her consciousness, kept afloat from the cold pain in her side, she heard a light scampering of feet, no doubt one of the pests out and about. She shuddered, letting out a groan, hair standing up on the back of her neck in disgust, but she was helpless. She flitted her eyelids open and thought she saw a rat, sickly green in the low light. Then she flitted her eyelids again, and she saw a pair of legs kneeling by her side. “Hey, stay with me! Oh man oh man that looks bad ahhhh I don’t have a phone!”

Rachel let out a low growl at the annoying prattling. At least be quiet and let me die in peace...
In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by Sep>

Alright, who is my best chance at quashing the mutant mafia and where do I send my cheques?


In One Piece: The Devil's Due (Always Accepting!) → 3 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
CATHERINE CORIANDER
Fog filled the air, thick like foam, so dense one couldn’t see an inch through it. Only two things crested through it: one was beams of light, reflecting through the water droplets to create an even glow in the dawnlight. The other was the Babylon, a ship of dark gray wood, its sails as deep black. A lone man stood at the prow of the ship behind the figurehead, the angry horse’s mane sculpted like the flames of a Nightmare. A dark coat with gold tassel hung from his shoulders, the reddish-tan skin of his crossed arms poking through. Mid length black hair fluttered in the wind. Behind him, two dozen men were readying themselves for battle, the tension high. Even in the utter lack of visibility, they moved with no hesitation and made no errors, possessing sight beyond sight.

“One minute until the descent, everyone!”

Approaching the man at the prow, another man scratched at his short gold hair, deep tan skin, and the collar of his black leather shirt raised like the hairs on the back of his neck. “Well Cap, any last words to the crew?” said the man with a star shaped piercing in his ear. [Benjamin “Belze” Morningstar, Helmsman of the Abyssal Call]

He was met with a smile. “You know I’ve always been more partial to action over words. Or thinking.” Ben didn’t laugh. The captain’s smile faded. “What, you’re worried? It’s not like we can turn back now and leave Hamel and John high and dry.”

Ben was silent for a moment, before holding his hand up. “You know I’m with you to the end, Captain. Just sad that we might be putting down another ship after we lost the Breeze.” A second later, he gave his hand a wave, and the ship lurched, pointing down, the vessel breaking from the fog, flecks of condensation spraying about, turning to ice in the altitude. The ship appeared above the land of green, trees and grass spread amongst the pure white buildings. But the ship hurtled towards the largest point of note: a massive castle spires serving as the highest constructions in the world. The roads of the city reached to the end of the red landmass, where they gave way to sheer cliffs, only white visible below, blue seas of the lower world too distant to view with one’s eyes for all the air in between.
Pangea Castle, Marie Geoise, Red Line – 18 years ago
It was a thunder unheard of at the capital of the world, as the Babylon smashed into the highest tower. From all about, slave and God alike were matched as they looked at the unprecedented sight in fear and awe. While slaves wanted to run in fear, the Heavenly Dragons were more like turkeys, unable to even comprehend the happening, their bulbous jaws hung open. But the storm was only beginning. From above the castle, a dark dot descended, a ball and chain behind him. A metal iron ball expanded, its two spikes resembling horns, a jagged jaw open like fangs, two cute round eyes finishing out the face. Air wavering around it, the ball grew beyond the size of even the Abyssal Call flagship. Two horns jutting out of his head and bending to the sky at a right angle, Avalon Duskar glowered as he dropped his weapon, made legend by his own hand, the Death Ball, its maw aiming to devour the great castle. From below, a white dot rocketed upwards, a cutlass coming to bear as the Death Ball made it’s descent. Templar Grand Master Fargos was the first to meet the Devil head on, his blade clashing, Death Ball going wide, smashing into one of the more minor towers and hurtling through the dozen floors between the tip and the foundations in the Red Line. The quake finally put fear into the hearts of the of the Gods, the men and women rallying their defenses and seeking safety, as the rest of the Call began their raid in full.

Fargos, using the chain links of the Death Ball like footholds, kicked himself upwards, his blade reflecting his own long, pale indigo hair and wrinkled face on one side while the other revealed the Devil’s angular features and furrowed brow. The blade seemed to crackle in the air as it made to bite into Avalon’s flesh, but it never made it. Avalon’s fist met Fargos’ cheek, the shape of his face twisting as he was launched, blasting a man sized hole into the castle.

Avalon’s feet reached the roof with a crash. Flicking his wrist, his ball and chain started to shrink in size, though by the time he pulled it back into his hand it was still the size of a wagon. Weapon in one hand, he jabbed his other at the highest window of Pangea Castle, finger stabbing into the heart of Marie Geoise itself. He opened his mouth, and roared words that would echo forevermore:
“Tell me, Elders! World Nobles! What are you hiding!? What is in this world you’re looking down on that you’re so afraid of!?” Coriander spoke in a raspy tone, arms raised to the top of the tent, hands twisted like the claws of the Devil. Lowering her gaze to the enraptured children in bedclothes, sitting atop sleeping bags, she turned her claws and fangs on them, cackling.
Tent on the Outskirts of Tune Town, Melody Island – Present Day
Coriander lunged, the kids screaming and scrambling out of the way. Cassia, small and stuck in the middle, didn’t make it, Coriander’s hands finding his soft sides, forcing him into fits of laughter in her Devilish Tickle Assault of Marie Geobliques.

“No! Stopitstopitstopitahahahaha!” Cassia giggled. Trying to scramble away from Coriander, he begged, “Help me!”

Coriander’s assault stopped as Peppermint slipped in behind her, looping her arms underneath her shoulders and stepping back. Coriander might as well have been strung up from a mainmast, for all her ability to pull herself free. Sorrel, Verbena, and Rue approached, vile grins upon their faces. “No! Not fair, you’re ganging up on me-Bwewheeheeheeheehee, heeheeheEHEEHEE AUGH STOPT AHEEHEE!” The battle was long, but eventually, like all conflicts, it came to an end, the low light from the small lantern strung to the top of the tent near a gap for exhaust stopping its rocking motion.

Their tent a short ways from the town, a bit further out from the church and Ryu Burnet’s home, the kids had all the peace and quiet they’d wanted (and so did the parents). A light breeze was more than enough to keep the kids snug in their bedding rather than wander in the dark, and they were more than happy to play in what ways they could in the cramped space. Through the darkness outside it honestly felt like they were alone in the world.

Everyone slumped back into their spots, catching their breath in the post-war, Coriander went to a paper sack, pulling out pre-sliced loaf of banana bread from her home. “This is the last one, so we’re going to brush our teeth and go to bed soon!”

“Boooooo,” Sorrel moped.

“Tell us more about the Devil!” Rue demanded, taking her chunk of bread.

Cassia whined, “He’s scary…”

“Yeah that’s why he’s cool!” Rue insisted.

“Plus he’s dead,” Verbena insisted.

Cassia shook his head. “No! Coriander and Mother Basil talk about him all the time.” His innocent comment was met with a couple giggles, the reaction clearly flustering him.

Coriander was given pause. “Oh, yeah that is confusing.” Taking a bite, she waiting until she swallowed before she answered. “He’s a pirate right? And pirates are thieves. He stole the name ‘The Devil’ from the Devil, but he’s a human! The worst human ever. But the Devil Devil is like, the worst ever. Like all the evil ever. Does that make sense?” Cassia stared, before shaking his head. “I’ll ask Mother Basil about it later...but don’t let that make you think Avalon isn’t a big deal. God and the Devil don’t physically exist in the world, and they influence it through people. Avalon didn’t have faith, so he became an avatar of the Devil himself, and struck against the Gods.” She raised her hand, floating it along as she mimed the Babylon’s airborne voyage. “He came from above Marie Geoise, putting himself above the Heavenly Dragons, even though he never listened to God himself. That’s why no one answered him when he asked his question. God speaks to you through your faith, so they had nothing to say to the faithless. But his anger tore Marie Geoise asunder. When not even the Heavenly Dragons are safe, no one is. The three Admirals all died or left the Marines after. Hundreds of battleships sailed in and so many didn’t even return. The Templars fought their hardest but still lost a lot of men. The Cardinals were non-combatants and even they got caught in the crossfire. We’re still feeling the effects to this very day. If not for the traitor, he might have even succeeded.” Coriander paused, the reality starting to dawn on her and her alone, as the kids merely watched on, sensing the gravity more through her tone than their understanding. “He struck against the Gods and nearly won, ruining the capital of the world and earning the highest bounty in history. It was the worst thing to ever happen.”

After Coriander finished, nothing moved, bread going uneaten as the kids tried to process her claim. Even she was left contemplating that, taking another bite of her bread.

Sorrel admitted, “Wow, I kinda thought having to go to church was dumb, but you’re actually pretty important, Coriander.”

Cheeks flushing a bit, mouth still full of banana bread, Coriander scratched the back of her head with a sheepish look.

Verbena noted, “My dad talks about the Devil’s Legion a lot though, they keep coming up in the newspaper.”

Peppermint cried, “Those guys are the worst!” Standing up, she punched a fist out in a quick bout of shadowboxing. “If they’re still around when I’m a Marine they better watch out!”

Eyes flashing as they watched for anyone unaware moving in Peppermint’s path, Coriander agreed “You’re telling me!”
A Humid Day of Melody:
Roaring Devils, Silent Dragons
In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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. ;)


In Ultimate One Universe: Emergence → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




Eyes red, irritated from crying, Jean’s consciousness returned. It was already early night, her clock reading out nearly 8PM, and she heard a low whining through the thin walls of the Baltimore apartment. Throwing herself out of bed, she moved her sore body out the door and right to the other room. Blocks and toys drifted out of the path of her feet as she reached the crib where her baby stood, hands on the bars of his baby jail. The face of her son shifted from a lonely pout to a gleeful smile the moment he saw her. As she picked up the ginger boy only clad in a diaper, the weight of everything came back to her. The papers she had to grade, the hunger in her stomach that needed to be sated, the messy process of feeding Nathan, the horrific school shooting she’d narrowly averted, the small amount of time she had before she would go to sleep and meet the next day. “Are you hungry?” she cooed as she went to their kitchenette, plopping Nathan in his high chair while trying to ignore the crushing feeling in her chest.

Turning the oven back on, the knob jabbed her with guilt of having wasted her husband’s kindness earlier. Normally he’d be there before he went to his graveyard shift, Jean’s exhaustion from school blowing away in his presence. Instead she now sat at the table multitasking, feeding Nathan some green goop from a Gerber jar with one hand while planning out her next week of lessons on a laptop with most of her attention. Nathan spit out his third bite in a row, spit and slop dribbling down, Jean wasting no time in dabbing at it with a damp paper towel. An intrusive thought came to mind, not for the first time and most definitely not for the last, as she imagined using her power to have him eat without fuss. She’d decided to herself while she was pregnant with him that she wanted to raise him as a human. To feels his weight and warmth with her own arms rather than shove him about telekenetically. To understand his needs and emotions as any mother would without probing into his undeveloped mind. To implant suggestions into another mind and interrupt their free will, their agency and autonomy, was not something she wished to ever do to anyone. The effects it might have on a mind, especially a developing one, was something she didn’t not want to consider. And once in her life, she had done it, just earlier today. Putting the baby spoon down, she stood, rushing to the sink, face growing hot and sweat beading down her neck. Her throat seared as she belched up a dollop of stomach acid, her hair floating away from her face as she hacked her lungs out. Face tightening as it grew red, she choked back tears while her sinuses burned. Once she finished, she turned back to the room, sinking to the ground. Looking back up to Nathan as she sniffled, he was arched to look over at her. “Ma, ma, ma, ma,” he mewled.

“I’m okay sweetie,” croaked out Jean’s reassuring lie.

-----

Flopping down on the couch with a plate of enchiladas, Jean reached for the remote, Nathan scampering about with the barrier blocking the way out of the living area. Sinking back in the seat, she put on the TV for background noise while she considered the teen she’d stopped early today. Fearing for his mental health (from both before and after her incursion…), she struggled to find an answer. Maybe she wouldn’t, but there needed to be some kind of outreach. She considered poking around online, or even just finding him and trying to talk it out. Not interested in news reruns, she took a bite before changing the channel, only to find the news still playing reruns. The same ones. Adjusting her sitting she continued, but the next two stations were all on the same note, just with different commentators. A terrorist attack had occurred in Metropolis, the footage not of the police and firefighters, but mostly focused on the red and blue, a single man who defyed all human logic and science in his caped crusade against a terrible toymaking terror. It wasn’t the new Hollywood blockbuster. It was very real.

Half chewed food still in her mouth, Jean slumped back in her seat. Nathan whizzed by, giggling happily in whatever made up game he was playing. Jean wished she could capture that carefree attitude as her already tired brain struggled against the implications unfolding right in front of her.

----

Jean didn’t sleep well that night. She only ever got a few hours, but that nap made her sleep schedule even worse. She’d been lying in bed for a couple hours when Scott came home a little earlier than normal, quiet as a mouse. She laid still in bed trying to get some rest as he went about his eve, tidying, watching TV at the lowest possible volume, checking on Nate every time he stirred. She must have found some comfort in that unchanged routine, for she awoke at 6 to the buzz of her alarm. The news didn’t come up as she went about starting her day and Scott went about stopping his. There was a tacit understanding: no one knew what the future held, and it wasn’t worth putting their life on hold just to speculate. Mornings were a time to get hectic and prep for the day to come, where the afternoon and evening were better for talking, if Nate wasn’t particularly rambunctious in between his regular naps. Jean gave Scott a peck on the cheek before heading off to school, Scott’s shoulders looking heavy as he headed off into his own balancing act of sleep and (baby)sitting.

Her day at school was certainly more interesting than average, not that yesterday would be surpassed any time soon. But discussion of current events could only be tolerated for so long in the face of Jean’s lesson plan.

“So, let’s say you hear that a friend got hurt. Maybe they broke their leg or were in an accident. What do you think is the worst way you could say ‘get well soon’?” There was a silence as everyone put in some thought. Or, well, Jean wanted to think that, but the glimpses she got into those small heads before she closed herself off weren’t exactly promising. Kicking the gears into motion, she started, a marker squeaking on the whiteboard, “Giving them a signed card would be a good way, but a bad way might be, say...” She stepped to the side, her red lettering reading out ‘gws ttyl lol’. “A text message no one can read maybe isn’t the best idea.” She smiled slightly at the confused faces trying to make out the shortened words.

“Goood wall son, tattley lol?” A few giggles sounded, Jean cracking a warm smile. “‘Get well soon, talk to you later, laughing out loud...but I like yours, Dominic!” Drawing a heart she said, “Oh, but we can add some emojis!” A few more giggles. “Does anyone want to tell me why they think it’s not the best idea to say it like that?”

After a few seconds, a hand went up. “Because you can’t understand?”

“True! But even if the message does get across, a card feels much more personal. Same if you called them, or went to go see them in person. Which of those would you like the best if you were in the hurt?”

Hands went up a bit quicker. Jean picked them out one by one. “A card because I can remember.” “Uhhh, if I can’t go out and see my friends then I would be happy if they came to see me!”

“Right! When someone is thoughtful, or doing something personal, it makes you happy. A text message can be a good way to let a friend know what you’re doing, but it’s easier. Especially if you use emoji or lazy language. And if you’re trying to tell someone you care about them then you don’t want to come across as lazy. Even with a card you still had to pick it out and spend money on it: there’s a gesture there. So-”

“Mrs. Grey?” came a whisper from the door. Spotting the thick rimmed glasses and short white hair of Mrs. Herb, she gave a curt nod to her class before shuffling to the door. “What is this about cards? We have testing coming up.”

Jean spoke in hushed tones, “It’s English, it’s just more...fundamental. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and yesterday-”

Mrs. Herb’s lips went thin. “Well...you’re doing good for your first year, but don’t push it.” She moved along, leaving Jean to her business. A tad flustered, she returned, trying to pick things back up from where she left off.

She’d been thinking about it a lot lately. Which is to say, since last night. Language didn’t concern merely words. Color was a language. Blue could be sadness but it could also be calming, relaxing. A sign that there was no danger. Red could be the inverse, that of aggression, but not as a secondary color to blue. It also meant passion, like that of love. Yellow, happiness and joy. A shield worked as a symbol of protection and defensiveness. The ‘S’…

Super, of course.

Someone was out there, putting their life on the line to protect people from threats that couldn’t be comprehended. In barely even 24 hours other stories were starting to filter in as well. The world was changing, and quickly, yet at the forefront of it all was a man who didn’t entirely need words to show what he was fighting for. Many were reacting with fear and anxiety, that someone so strong was right in their midst. Certainly a number of fear mongering headlines were espousing that very same sentiment. But Jean couldn’t see it that way, not in the least. Thinking on it too much had her beating back tears. She couldn’t escape the thought, the want for someone like her doing the very same thing. She thought of that mutant child, still out there, abandoned and alone.

Her mouth was dry, that evening, as she once again made the climb to her apartment. Then she had been sluggish and exhausted, now she might as well have flown. Reaching the door, she came in to see Scott on the couch, Nathan sitting in his lap sucking on his own fingers as the TV played. She wondered if he was sleeping or not until he turned his head to her and smiled. She loved him so god dang much.

And that was going to make the next few minutes very difficult.

Choking back her emotions, she carefully approached, Scott sitting up as he sensed something amiss. “Everything good honey? How was work? Nothing-”

“No, nothing like yesterday!” A smile flashed to her face and quickly melted back into a look of apprehension and excitement. “Scott...I need to talk to you about something very important.” She took a seat next to him, Nathan reaching his arms to her. She took hold of him and brought him close.

Scott seemed to be staring, before his mouth slipped open in apparent realization. He choked, before saying, “Jean, uh, I love you and Nathan, but I just don’t think we have the finances to be thinking about another kid!”

Jean giggled. “No, no that’s not it.” Scott visibly relaxed. Jean bit her lip as she struggled to find the courage. Scott turned one eye on her, so she imagined, unable to see it through is sunglasses. “Don’t keep a guy waiting too long. You’re gonna make me wish I was the one who could read minds.”

Jean gave a laugh, unable to help herself around him. “Scott, I think...I think I want to become a superhero.”

Scott’s eyebrows shot up. His jaw hung a bit as he took a deep breath. She didn’t need to read his mind at all, drawing a breath and sucking her own lips in. With a slow exhale, he stole a glance at the TV, before clumsily admitting. “I think I’d rather talk about having another kid...”
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