Haha
pockets
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The Happy Gargoyle
- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: pockets
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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- pockets 11 yrs ago
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<Snipped quote by pockets>
I'll do that after a couple more people have posted. Do you not live in Ireland (north or south)? I would have loved to learn it, but I'd be pretty lucky if I found a place to learn it in outer London! I guess I'm relegated to online courses that aren't as good as a teacher.
No I live in Southern California in the U.S. actually. There's some Irish heritage in my dad's biological side of the family but my dad was adopted and from that side I'm 6th generation born in Cali.
@pockets Well, they have different accents. For example, someone from the north would say how their daughter is a "wee lass" but a southerner wouldn't. The southerner wouldn't pronounce most "th"s. E.g." There were tree trees!"
Edit: judging by his back story, he'd probably have learned Irish at school. Perhaps we could have our two characters talk to each other in Irish?
I'm totally cool with that. Since he showed up ranting in an accent maybe you could approach him? Wish gaelic was offered around here, I'd have loved to have learned it.
@TheIrishJJ okay. I never specified whereabouts in Ireland they lived, did I do something to indicate he might not have lived in the north?
I might adjust his bio if necessary, though his back story has little bearing on the present save to indicate how he ended up in the states.
I might adjust his bio if necessary, though his back story has little bearing on the present save to indicate how he ended up in the states.
Name: Derrick Cole
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Appearance:
Mutation: The ability to create solid light constructs. This includes firing blasts, flight, shielding. Most of these he can't do yet though.
Personality: Brash, eager, bit of a hot head, but generally a nice guy, when he's not trying to come off as a jerk.
Bio: Irish american, born in the states while his parents were on vacation but lived in Ireland until he was fifteen. His dad worked in construction and was in charge of his companies demolitions materials. When some local members of the IRA wanted supplies to make bombs, they came knocking on old Nathan Cole's door. He denied them, flat out. But the IRA don't take well to disappointment, and a week later found Derricks father in the hospital, beaten to within an inch of his life.
Derrick stole the demolitions supplies, managed to get into contact with the men that wanted them and arranged a meet to turn them over. One of the men was an Interpol agent, undercover, and the entire thing had been a sting operation to catch the local chapter of the IRA. Derrick and his family were relocated to Boston and granted citizenship as a reward for their trouble, and assistance. No charges were brought against Derrick due to his age at the time, and his only intention was to help his father.
When he turned 17 his powers began to manifest themselves. At first as little points of light that would randomly start floating around him, then later he was startled when a truck backfired on their block and a small beam of light erupted from his hand, shattering the cup of coffee he'd been holding in a spray of ceramic and scalding liquid.
He left home after discussing the situation with his parents. They loved him, and they didn't have a problem with his being different. But they couldn't afford the property damage that started to creep up with the uncontrolled power he had. They supplied him with all the assistance they could and he still calls his mother nearly every day, but he's been on his own for a few years, traveling the country by motorcycle, picking up odd jobs when and where he could.
Other: $3 pineapples
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Appearance:
Mutation: The ability to create solid light constructs. This includes firing blasts, flight, shielding. Most of these he can't do yet though.
Personality: Brash, eager, bit of a hot head, but generally a nice guy, when he's not trying to come off as a jerk.
Bio: Irish american, born in the states while his parents were on vacation but lived in Ireland until he was fifteen. His dad worked in construction and was in charge of his companies demolitions materials. When some local members of the IRA wanted supplies to make bombs, they came knocking on old Nathan Cole's door. He denied them, flat out. But the IRA don't take well to disappointment, and a week later found Derricks father in the hospital, beaten to within an inch of his life.
Derrick stole the demolitions supplies, managed to get into contact with the men that wanted them and arranged a meet to turn them over. One of the men was an Interpol agent, undercover, and the entire thing had been a sting operation to catch the local chapter of the IRA. Derrick and his family were relocated to Boston and granted citizenship as a reward for their trouble, and assistance. No charges were brought against Derrick due to his age at the time, and his only intention was to help his father.
When he turned 17 his powers began to manifest themselves. At first as little points of light that would randomly start floating around him, then later he was startled when a truck backfired on their block and a small beam of light erupted from his hand, shattering the cup of coffee he'd been holding in a spray of ceramic and scalding liquid.
He left home after discussing the situation with his parents. They loved him, and they didn't have a problem with his being different. But they couldn't afford the property damage that started to creep up with the uncontrolled power he had. They supplied him with all the assistance they could and he still calls his mother nearly every day, but he's been on his own for a few years, traveling the country by motorcycle, picking up odd jobs when and where he could.
Other: $3 pineapples
@pockets So umm.... You aren't appearing in any room. You are on an aircraft x)
But Derrick doesn't know that. He just sees a room around him, he's barely even aware of his surroundings. Next post when he starts actually looking around he'll realize he's not on the ground anymore.
@pockets You also need to put your character in the character tab, please :)
Oi, gracias, I forgot about that.
Derrick
"Hello darkness my old friend,
I've come to talk to you again.
Because a vision softly creeping,
left its seeds while I was sleeping..."
Derrick sang quietly to himself as he rode. Well, quietly was a relative term. He was honestly belting the words out with some serious projection, but at 75 miles an hour on the back of a Harley Davidson with the wind in his face... quietly was better than most could hope for.
"And the vision," he continued, "that was planted in my brain, still remains."
A new voice cut in, one with a slight german accent. "Within the sound, of silence."
To his credit Derrick didn't suddenly swerve off the road in his shock. He'd been riding alone for the last three hundred miles, leaving that girl in Tacoma the night before. A glance at his sideview mirror showed a bright blue, fur covered individual perched on the pillion seat just behind him on the bike. "Simon and Garfunkel," the blue guy shouted. "Love their work."
"Actually," Derrick yelled back. "I was going with the cover done by Disturbed." He lifted his left hand and pointed back over his right shoulder with two fingers. A moment later there was a brilliant flare of light around his fingers and a tiny bolt of energy flew from his hand at his unwanted passenger.
Blue boy ducked, easily avoiding the, admittedly, weak shot and leaped into the air. There was a strange sound, one that was lost entirely in the roar of the engine beneath him and the howling wind and the blue mutant vanished in a cloud of smoke. Derrick smirked and turning back to the front, sure that his visitor was gone.
When he found himself gazing into a pair of deep yellow eyes though, he reacted like any other terrified individual in the presence of a mutant terrorist that was wanted by just about every government on earth might react, he panicked.
"Gah!" he cried out and his hands came up off the handle bars as he swung wildly at the face while leaning back on the bike to try to put some distance between him and the Nightcrawler.
The end result was he threw the bike off balance and the whole vehicle started to swerve back and forth, the front wheel wobbling violently. He grabbed the handlebars and pulled on the brake. In his panic he pulled a little too hard. The front wheel locked up and an instant later the vehicle was flipping end over end down the highway bits of plastic and chunks of metal spraying across the road.
Of Derrick and the crawler there was no sign, save for a cloud of sulfurous smoke that quickly dissipated on the breeze.
----------
They appeared inside a room, location, unknown to Derrick. He idly noticed other people sitting and standing around but he wasn't paying much attention. They second they landed he wrenched himself away from Nightcrawler, pulling his jacket free of the grip the other mutant had on him and reached up to yank off his helmet which he slammed on the ground.
"What in tha fecking hell is wrong with ye?" he roared, his Irish accent far more pronounced than usual in his rage. "Ye don' teleport onto that back of a mans bike while he's doing 70 down that bloody motorway!" He paused for a second eyes growing wide as a thought occurred to him. "And what tha hell happened to me bike?" he roared.
"Hello darkness my old friend,
I've come to talk to you again.
Because a vision softly creeping,
left its seeds while I was sleeping..."
Derrick sang quietly to himself as he rode. Well, quietly was a relative term. He was honestly belting the words out with some serious projection, but at 75 miles an hour on the back of a Harley Davidson with the wind in his face... quietly was better than most could hope for.
"And the vision," he continued, "that was planted in my brain, still remains."
A new voice cut in, one with a slight german accent. "Within the sound, of silence."
To his credit Derrick didn't suddenly swerve off the road in his shock. He'd been riding alone for the last three hundred miles, leaving that girl in Tacoma the night before. A glance at his sideview mirror showed a bright blue, fur covered individual perched on the pillion seat just behind him on the bike. "Simon and Garfunkel," the blue guy shouted. "Love their work."
"Actually," Derrick yelled back. "I was going with the cover done by Disturbed." He lifted his left hand and pointed back over his right shoulder with two fingers. A moment later there was a brilliant flare of light around his fingers and a tiny bolt of energy flew from his hand at his unwanted passenger.
Blue boy ducked, easily avoiding the, admittedly, weak shot and leaped into the air. There was a strange sound, one that was lost entirely in the roar of the engine beneath him and the howling wind and the blue mutant vanished in a cloud of smoke. Derrick smirked and turning back to the front, sure that his visitor was gone.
When he found himself gazing into a pair of deep yellow eyes though, he reacted like any other terrified individual in the presence of a mutant terrorist that was wanted by just about every government on earth might react, he panicked.
"Gah!" he cried out and his hands came up off the handle bars as he swung wildly at the face while leaning back on the bike to try to put some distance between him and the Nightcrawler.
The end result was he threw the bike off balance and the whole vehicle started to swerve back and forth, the front wheel wobbling violently. He grabbed the handlebars and pulled on the brake. In his panic he pulled a little too hard. The front wheel locked up and an instant later the vehicle was flipping end over end down the highway bits of plastic and chunks of metal spraying across the road.
Of Derrick and the crawler there was no sign, save for a cloud of sulfurous smoke that quickly dissipated on the breeze.
----------
They appeared inside a room, location, unknown to Derrick. He idly noticed other people sitting and standing around but he wasn't paying much attention. They second they landed he wrenched himself away from Nightcrawler, pulling his jacket free of the grip the other mutant had on him and reached up to yank off his helmet which he slammed on the ground.
"What in tha fecking hell is wrong with ye?" he roared, his Irish accent far more pronounced than usual in his rage. "Ye don' teleport onto that back of a mans bike while he's doing 70 down that bloody motorway!" He paused for a second eyes growing wide as a thought occurred to him. "And what tha hell happened to me bike?" he roared.
Whoot. Gonna try to get a post in soon. I'm at work right now so obviously there are interruptions to, ya know, do my job. lol.
@Prudence Not sure if you said or if I missed it but was my guy Derrick approved? I posted his character sheet pack on page 2 here.
Saturday March 23, 2016
"Wake the fuck up you lazy little shit!" Largent was startled from a deep sleep by a blow to the face. A moment later he experienced a sense of vertigo as the ground beneath him shifted, tilting had to his left and he rolled along until he crashed hard into another surface. Oh right. The ground hadn't shifted, his bed had. He blearily opened his eyes to find that his dad had lived the side of his bed, tilting him out of it and onto the worn and scuffed hardwood floor of his bedroom.
If Largent was the tallest person in his grade, his dad was one of the tallest people in town. Close to seven feet tall and almost equally as rotund, Gareth was not a pleasant man. He and his wife had married young when she'd ended up pregnant with Largent, an accident they hadn't wanted or planned for and they made sure to let him know it.
"We don't pay to send you to school so you can laze around all the damned time, you slept all day yesterday so get up and get some fucking work done!" Gareth roared and Largent cringed despite himself. The anger built up in his chest again. The same anger that always resided there like a cold knot of iron just behind his heart that he could never get rid of no matter how many people he took his anger out on.
He went to stand, too stunned from his fall and bleary from whatever happened to him to realize his mistake before it was too late. One thing he'd learned early on in life was that, when Gareth knocked you down, you didn't get back up until he left. Not if you wanted to keep all of your teeth. He lifted his head just in time to catch the crushing fist to his face. The blow lifted him bodily off the ground and tossed him across the room where he crashed into the wall and slumped to the floor again, taking a nearby desk lamp with him.
There was a crashing sound as the lamp hit the floor and the bulb shattered. Largest hand landed a scant inch from the broken bulb and he cried out in surprise when tiny tendrils of bright blue electricity arced from the lamp toward his hand. What in the fucking hell? he thought. five tiny bolts of lightning connect his hand to the bulb and instead of the pain he expected a growing warmth spread through his body. The cobwebs were swept away from his mind and strength flooded his limbs. The pain in his cheek and jaw slowly receded as well until they vanished entirely.
The whole time Gareth kept screaming, ranting at Largent over one imagined slight or another, but Largent wasn't hearing him. He held his hand out to the empty wall socket beneath where they lamp was plugged in. He could feel it. Humming through the floors and walls. Flowing, sighing, moving from one place to another. There was a beauty to it, a sense of order among the chaos.
"Mine," he growled and a thick bolt of electricity snapped from the wall to his hand with a loud hissing, crackling sound. The air began to smell of burnt ozone and hair as all the hair on his knuckles flash fried into nothing. He gasped and spasmed, his muscles clenching and convulsing throughout his entire body as he pulled the energy into his body.
"What the fuck are you doing? You stupid fuck, I hope you plan on paying the electric bill this month," Gareth snapped angrily. Largent still didn't hear him, and even if he had, he wouldn't have likely responded to the ridiculous statement.
The electricity suddenly vanished and Largent rose to his feet. Small tendrils of lightning crackled around his hands and when he raised his head and locked gazes with his father, the old man could see bits of lightning flashing in his gaze.
"You," Largent hissed. "Are never going to hit me again."
Outside, if anyone had been nearby to care, a loud crackling noise could be heard, accompanied by frenzied screams of terror. The screams went on for some time before they finally fell silent, and no one left the house again for several days.
----------
Richard
It hadn't taken long for him to get ahold of the right people. Took a little creative searching, but he managed it and by noon he had made contact with Mina and Alden. Hal, he hadn't been able to reach. But the others were on their way over to Sophias house. The door opened and Richard glanced up just as he was putting his phone down.
"I got ahold of a couple of people, they should be on their way- GAH! Why are you still naked?" he asked, hand coming up to cover his eyes.
Sophia looked down at herself and frowned before signing, I'm not naked, stupid. I'm wearing jeans.
"But no shirt, or bra."
She glared at him, not The Look, but still effective nonetheless and he sank back on the bed. "Anyway, some people are on their way so you might want to consider getting dressed. It seems like they've been experiencing some weird stuff too, so it looks like we'll have more to talk about than I think we ever have with some of them."
"Wake the fuck up you lazy little shit!" Largent was startled from a deep sleep by a blow to the face. A moment later he experienced a sense of vertigo as the ground beneath him shifted, tilting had to his left and he rolled along until he crashed hard into another surface. Oh right. The ground hadn't shifted, his bed had. He blearily opened his eyes to find that his dad had lived the side of his bed, tilting him out of it and onto the worn and scuffed hardwood floor of his bedroom.
If Largent was the tallest person in his grade, his dad was one of the tallest people in town. Close to seven feet tall and almost equally as rotund, Gareth was not a pleasant man. He and his wife had married young when she'd ended up pregnant with Largent, an accident they hadn't wanted or planned for and they made sure to let him know it.
"We don't pay to send you to school so you can laze around all the damned time, you slept all day yesterday so get up and get some fucking work done!" Gareth roared and Largent cringed despite himself. The anger built up in his chest again. The same anger that always resided there like a cold knot of iron just behind his heart that he could never get rid of no matter how many people he took his anger out on.
He went to stand, too stunned from his fall and bleary from whatever happened to him to realize his mistake before it was too late. One thing he'd learned early on in life was that, when Gareth knocked you down, you didn't get back up until he left. Not if you wanted to keep all of your teeth. He lifted his head just in time to catch the crushing fist to his face. The blow lifted him bodily off the ground and tossed him across the room where he crashed into the wall and slumped to the floor again, taking a nearby desk lamp with him.
There was a crashing sound as the lamp hit the floor and the bulb shattered. Largest hand landed a scant inch from the broken bulb and he cried out in surprise when tiny tendrils of bright blue electricity arced from the lamp toward his hand. What in the fucking hell? he thought. five tiny bolts of lightning connect his hand to the bulb and instead of the pain he expected a growing warmth spread through his body. The cobwebs were swept away from his mind and strength flooded his limbs. The pain in his cheek and jaw slowly receded as well until they vanished entirely.
The whole time Gareth kept screaming, ranting at Largent over one imagined slight or another, but Largent wasn't hearing him. He held his hand out to the empty wall socket beneath where they lamp was plugged in. He could feel it. Humming through the floors and walls. Flowing, sighing, moving from one place to another. There was a beauty to it, a sense of order among the chaos.
"Mine," he growled and a thick bolt of electricity snapped from the wall to his hand with a loud hissing, crackling sound. The air began to smell of burnt ozone and hair as all the hair on his knuckles flash fried into nothing. He gasped and spasmed, his muscles clenching and convulsing throughout his entire body as he pulled the energy into his body.
"What the fuck are you doing? You stupid fuck, I hope you plan on paying the electric bill this month," Gareth snapped angrily. Largent still didn't hear him, and even if he had, he wouldn't have likely responded to the ridiculous statement.
The electricity suddenly vanished and Largent rose to his feet. Small tendrils of lightning crackled around his hands and when he raised his head and locked gazes with his father, the old man could see bits of lightning flashing in his gaze.
"You," Largent hissed. "Are never going to hit me again."
Outside, if anyone had been nearby to care, a loud crackling noise could be heard, accompanied by frenzied screams of terror. The screams went on for some time before they finally fell silent, and no one left the house again for several days.
----------
Richard
It hadn't taken long for him to get ahold of the right people. Took a little creative searching, but he managed it and by noon he had made contact with Mina and Alden. Hal, he hadn't been able to reach. But the others were on their way over to Sophias house. The door opened and Richard glanced up just as he was putting his phone down.
"I got ahold of a couple of people, they should be on their way- GAH! Why are you still naked?" he asked, hand coming up to cover his eyes.
Sophia looked down at herself and frowned before signing, I'm not naked, stupid. I'm wearing jeans.
"But no shirt, or bra."
She glared at him, not The Look, but still effective nonetheless and he sank back on the bed. "Anyway, some people are on their way so you might want to consider getting dressed. It seems like they've been experiencing some weird stuff too, so it looks like we'll have more to talk about than I think we ever have with some of them."
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