Prophecy

The Dust

Length>quality I thought your post was really good bruh

@Darcs

[uncontrollable blushing] You're too kind

The Dust

I too am feeling inferior after all these great posts, I promise I'll be at the top of my game from now on. Honestly, I fall into the trap of doing what others are doing. If someone writes a lot I will try to write the same amount etc. you'll motce that my first IC was a very similar length to the two before it when I'm sure I could've written far more... I'll work on it, I promise...

Also: [list-] [*-] [/list-] (remove the dashes)

@Callthecops

And thank you good sir.

The Dust

Agreed, all of the posts have been great, can't wait:) Do you know what I want to know though? How on earth do I get bullet points for my Cs!!

The Dust

Name: Jackson Cooper Age: 27 Appeared Age: Same as actual Height: 6'0 Weight: Eye Color: Grey Hair Color: Dark Brown Physical Disabilities: A slight limp in his right leg due to a small fracture caused during hand-to-hand combat. This minorly affects his manoeuvrability. Physical Identifiers: Scar tissue around both wrists. The result of gnawing himself free from shackles. Appearance: Jackson has unkempt, short brown hair -often obscured by a cap - and stubble that he keeps closely shaven. At one point he would have been considered typically handsome, a rough diamond of sorts, but years of harsh and demanding conditions have taken their toll on his looks and lined his face with creases. Being tall, he is relatively intimidating, and while not excessively muscular, he is toned to the point of definition. Around his neck he wears a dog collar. An heirloom that has been around since well before the orb struck Earth. Residence: A small apartment in Russell City Profession: In theory, Jackson is somewhat a chemist. He sells drugs at cheap prices and - despite being very reclusive - has a reputation for providing what some would refer to as affordable health care. However, his main profit comes from the sale of illegal substances. His most popular being small canisters of inhalable hallucinogens, which he is able to make easily due to his ability. Aligned Faction: Motum Diversum Relatives: Sydney Cooper is Jackson's lover, and perhaps in a world where the Earth hadn't so nearly been destroyed, she may have been his wife. They have a close but casual bond, where one could disappear for weeks on end without a word, only to return and resume their relationship. Sydney often lives with Jackson is his apartment, but is entirely independent, earning her own money etc. Backstory:

Backstory

Jackson's mother and father had lived in Aspin when they met - both brilliant scientists who were applauded for their extensive research in biological, medical, and chemical science. After two years they moved into one an up-market residency together and lived a comfortable life for a further year, at which point Sarah - Jackson’s mother - became pregnant with Jackson. Almost nine months later she gave birth to a healthy young boy, and they resumed their routine lives, only this time with an extra member of the family. As Jackson grew older he was introduced into the world of Chemical and Medical science by his father who he spent most of his days with, and showed real promise in becoming successful in the field. By the age of ten he was conducting his own research into the creation of inhalable chemical enhancement agents, and was hoping to peruse this area of study later on in his education. However, that was when The Sickness struck. Jackson had been warned from an early age of the sickness, and in private his mother had warned him of something far more frightening. The Immortals. He was told that these people were able to control the world around them in various ways and that their power was something to be feared. In fact, she had told him, Immortals were being kept in confinement within Aspin itself while they were observed. Jackson wasn't the first to notice his condition, it was his father, Nicholas. One day in the lab while Jackson was sniffing, coughing and complaining of a headache his father pulled him aside and asked how long he had felt this way. He told his father that it had only come on that day, and in response Nicholas told him to take note of how he was feeling - and strangely enough to not tell his mother. Days went by and Jackson's condition only deteriorated. Thankfully his mother was working long hours on a major project so it was no trouble keeping it from her. This didn't seem to ease Nicholas' worry, though, and to Jackson’s surprise he became increasingly on edge when the symptoms of illness came to an abrupt end. Having been told of the immortals, but not how they come to be, Jackson was blissfully unaware of the change that had gone on inside of him. It was in the labs a few days after The Sickness had passed that a vial of reacting powders smashed onto a lit Bunsen burner and the nature of this change become evident. The reacting powders went up it a cloud of smoke, and in panic Jackson threw up his hands to ward of the toxic cloud when suddenly it morphed into a uniform sphere. And then, even more bizarrely, it reached out in tendrils and curled around Jackson's body before dropping to the floor and dispersing. That night all that could be heard in the Cooper household were the raised voices of his parents as they fought over something that at the time Jacksons did not fully understand. His mother was clearly on the offensive, his father saying far less. He would interrupt for a brief period before Sarah was dominating the argument once more. In his room Jackson sat in silence, picking out parts of the conversation. ... a danger to us all... what he's capable of... his safety as well as ours... It later become clear that she was in fact talking about him. But at the time all Jackson knew was that his father rushed into the room, hurried a bag of clothes together, and hastily led them out of the front door and into their 4X4. They drove in darkness without stopping until they reached Motum Diversum, and once there they stayed overnight at an inn. Nicholas rarely spoke, and when he did it was never to explain their situation. That was only explained once he reached the age of 16, and by then most of what had gone on that night had already been made sense of. In Motum Diversum they soon bought a small apartment, and Nicholas set up his own make-shift lab - working as a chemist and selling treatment and legal drugs for reasonable prices. Meanwhile Jackson learnt to control his ability and the two settled into the new life thrust upon them. Nicholas later informed Jackson of a few things. The first was that the Coopers has not always been a family of scientists. Before the orb landed on Earth they had mostly been a military family, and for years afterwards they had carried on as a tough, militarized family surviving alone in the harsh conditions. Eventually times changed, and while they still lived in a more traditional manner they merged with the civilizations forming around them. When one of their own contracted The Sickness only then to change into an immortal - well before information on these things was widely available - they embraced it and saw it as their duty to protect this person who could manipulate their surroundings. These ideals were passed on for generations, and even when a branch of the family ventured into gaen territory and settled they were continued. Much of the Cooper family is believed to have died off in various places around The Dust, but the Coopers who learned the ways of science flourished. The existence of the Immortals soon became common knowledge, and it was not long before the Cooper's beliefs were forced underground. Nicholas told Jackson that this was why he had not immediately wanted to turn him over to scientists to be observed, and that leaving Aspin was the only way that his mother would have allowed him to live a free life. By the age of eighteen Jackson shared the responsibilities that came with the small business run from their apartment. He more than pulled his weight, producing an array of gas products using his abilities, and overall serving as the main producer of all drugs while his father handled sales and treatment. It was a system that served them well and saw them earning a decent amount of money. Sadly, as with all good things, it came to an end. At the age of twenty Jackson witnessed his father shot dead after a man who lived in the upper-class area of Russel City stormed their apartment with two other men, claiming that their buisness was suffering due to the 'petty little operation' Jackson and his father were running. They demanded that Nicholas stop the production of his drugs and cease his health care. When Nicholas refused he was shot in the head without hesitation. All three men were suffocated by a gas released moments later that targeted their mouths in dense limbs of smoke before reaching into their lungs and burning them from the inside out. From that day forward Jackson ran the business single-handedly - occasionally aided by Sydney. He had sent a clear warning to opposing businesses that he would not tolerate any form of threatening behaviour, and as such was never bothered again. However, gradually, not being the man his father was, he lost patience for the high standards of legal drugs and became more and more immersed in the world of illegal substances where regulations were near non-existent and there was more profit to be made.

Weapons: Fully serrated black combat knife - Much like the dog tag that Jackson wears, this is something of an heirloom that his father passed on to him. It has supposedly been in the family for many generations. Six shot double action revolver: Acquired after a negotiation with a customer turned sour - the same negotiation that resulted in his limp. Armor: N/A Ammunition: Dirty Rounds: 3 boxes of 10 cartridges High Grade Rounds: 17 cartridges of .38 S&W special in a 20 cartridge box Heavy Ammunition: N/A Military grade backpack: Contains - 4 packs of 20 cigarettes (from varying sources, some home-made), 2 packs of 10 cigars, 2 water canteens, change of clothes, spare cap, spare sunglasses, Bunsen burner with accompanying compressed gas canister, a handful of glass vials, matches, sleeping bag. Waist pouch: Contains - various bags/vials of home-made substances. (Sleeping aids, Vitamin pills and powders, water purifying powder, burn salve, hallucinogens, a liquid similar to caffeine that suppresses hunger and helps a person stay more awake and alert, etc.) A second pack of matches, small bottle of lighting fluid, and some kindling. Manifested Phenomena Smoke manipulation. Be it smoke from cooking a meal, a lit cigarette, or a candle. Unique Abilities: Disperse - Jackson can, for a short period of time, turn into a cloud of smoke. Allowing him to travel through small spaces such as ventilation shafts and avoid attacks if he acts quick enough. Inhalator - Jackson can inhale smoke - even laced with toxic chemicals - to store in his lungs which he can exhale at a later date as a weapon. Strengths: Resourceful and adapts easily to his surroundings. Weaknesses: Manipulator - Jackson cannot manifest smoke, he can only manipulate smoke around him. Addiction - Without having access to cigarettes or cigars, Jackson will become agitated and will lack his usual ability to make quick decisions.

The Dust

"Stop it. I hate it when you do that," Sydney said, withdrawing the cigarette from her lips and frowning at the perfectly uniform spheres of smoke appearing before her. She exhaled another breath of smoke, and this too morphed into a ball and joined the others in the centre of the room. With one hand she swatted at the spheres causing them to disperse, and with the other she stubbed the dog-end out on the table between them. "God, Jackson, you know I hate it when you do that," she reiterated, but he said nothing and simply shot a smirk in her direction. After taking one last breath of blissful nicotine he too stubbed the remainder of his cigarette on the table and they sat in silence for a moment. "So," Jackson said in his distinct, husky voice. "How was your trip?" "Bloody awful," was all she said at first. Jackson knit his brows in a questioning fashion, but Sydney didn't offer a reply. Instead she leant across the table and ran a hand along his cheek. It had been two weeks since they had last seen each other and there was a tension between them that was so prominent it was almost tangible. Shedding her leather jacket and laying it across the back of her chair she sauntered around the table and perched on the edge by Jackson. He leant in a kissed her on the lips, obviously wanting more, but she pulled away, cupping his face in her hands and staring intently into his eyes. "Where do I start? The bandits on the second day, the wild dogs in the middle of the night, being chased three miles down the road by some godforsaken caravan thirsty for my blood..." "For Christ sake, Sydney!" Jackson said, escaping her hold on his face. "I've told you that if you run into trouble you come straight back here. Profit is great, but not at the expense of your life." He stood up and left her on the battered oak table. In the kitchen a flame was steadily evaporating a liquid in a clay bowl, leaving behind a light blue crystal-like substance. He cautiously lifted the bowl with a pair of tongs, shook the solution, and then replaced it above the flame. With his hands resting on his waist he thought on what to say, staring out into the sun-scorched streets through the kitchen window. "Next time I'll come with-" "No," She interrupted. "No. You know I can handle myself. Do you see as little as a cut or a bruise on my body? Of course not. The bandits, I beat them up pretty bad, hauled all three of them into the back of the truck and dropped them off at the nearest town. The dogs are all lying dead by the roadside, and the caravan was easy to outrun. Why don't you trust me, Jackson..." "Hey, I trust you." He moved across the room - a slight limp in his step - and embraced her slender body. He put his mouth by her ear and whispered, "You know I trust you," but hardly lingered in the moment, not one for sickly romance. Obviously unconvinced, Sydney stood with her weight on one leg and head slightly tilted as he parted from her. With an unwavering gaze she watched for any sign of hesitation or pretence, though there was none and she soon grew bored. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair and made for the bedroom when there came a knock at the door. "Open up." Said a male voice. It was deep and authoritative - Jackson knew at once that it was a Guardian. Neither of them spoke. Sydney's eyes grew wide, but Jackson only nodded in the direction of the kitchen where and array of chemicals boiled over flames and corked flasks of liquid stood proud. Without hesitation she walked briskly into the kitchen and began cutting the gas on the Bunsen burners, packing them neatly behind the false backs of cupboards, and hastily piling the bowls of chemicals and flasks in the same way. While she did this Jackson caught her attention and rubbed his thumb and fingers together in a motion as if asking for money. However, to them this was a signal for fire - or more specifically smoke. "Coming," He called, taking his time to reach the door. There was just enough time for Sydney to finish clearing up and vanish into the bedroom with a small canister under her arm before he unlocked the door and opened it slightly. "Hello," He said, noting that it wasn't just one Guardian, it was three. "Can I help you?" "Jackson Cooper I believe?" The man who had spoken before said. His hair was greying at the sides, his face lined with creases and his expression set in a permanent scowl. He looked questionably old to be a Guardian fit for field-work, which could only be a good thing in Jackson's opinion. He was most likely a long-standing member of the force who had been assigned mostly office work in recent years. If that was true it was probably also true that this was only a routine search or the result of a tip-off that they didn't expect would turn up anything of interest. "We've received an anonymous letter informing us that your premises are being used for the production of illegal narcotics." "Oh, is that so?" Jackson replied with a titter. He moved aside, fully opening the door. "Well, by all means come and inspect the place for yourself." All three men entered, their heavy tread unsettling the thin layer of dust on the floor. Without another word they began to inspect the entire room, but the two younger men were both drawn towards the kitchen area. They opened cupboard doors, grunted at the modest stores of food, and then moved their search into what could only be described as a living area - though it was no more than a worn sofa, two chairs, and a salvaged television that would play old VHS tapes on a good day. The older man, however, wandered around the oak table before stopping abruptly and addressing Jackson. "How many people are staying in this apartment?" "Only myself." "Really?" The Guardian said. "Strange that a man living on his own should have two fresh cigarette butts at opposite ends of a table." He brushed the remains of Jackson and Sydney's cigarettes onto the floor, leaning in to scrutinize the varnished wooden surface. As he was doing this, he continued to talk. "And the bedroom over there, I won't find anyone in there?" "No." He stood upright once again, narrowing his eyes. Of course, Jackson was fully aware that he would send a Guardian in there, and that they would find Sydney underneath the bed or hidden behind a rail of clothes in the closet. Or maybe she would be resourceful, he thought. And the more he considered this possibility the more certain he was that she'd already climbed out of the window, dropped from the first floor apartment, and run to the four-by-four to hide. Yes, the more he thought about it the more he knew that she had done that and they would find nothing of suspicion to... "Sir, we've found a false back to this cupboard." There was a moment of silence before the word Crap escaped Jackson's lips, and then, perfectly one cue, and canister rolled into the centre of the room. All three Guardians looked at it with alarm before a sharp hissing escaped its metal casing and a thick smoke rapidly began filling the room. The senior Guardian shouted for the other two to apprehend the suspect, coughing and spluttering his words, and without a moment to comprehend the situation the two younger Guardians were advancing on him. The first took a swing at Jackson's face, hitting him firmly in the jaw and throwing him off balance. The second kneed him in the guts, forcing a sickening sensation throughout his body and sending him sprawling across the floor. Through a haze Jackson could hear the senior man retching on the floor, and without thinking the second Guardian went to his to aid leaving Jackson alone with the other. He was strong. Strong enough to lift Jackson from the floor and force him against the wall. Fortunately he was already inhaling vast amounts of the smoke and signs of physical deterioration were already visible. His hands were shaking and coughed up bile dripped from his mouth. He took another swing for Jackson, but this time his speed wasn't quite so lethal. Jackson managed to block the brunt of the blow and kick the man backwards, and in the seconds it took for the Guardian to recompose himself he could see the leader of the squad had collapsed to the floor. The second Guardian - realising that his first-aid attempts were futile - now came to the aid of his younger comrade and attempted to retrieve his gun despite the violent spasms in his hands. Meanwhile the first Guardian pounced again, launching another assault on Jackson's face, and another, and another. Through a flurry of hard punches Jackson managed to gain enough focus to concentrate a mass of the smoke and force it into the Guardian’s lungs, causing him to slump to the ground almost instantly. It was then that Jackson could focus on the second Guardian standing above him, but he was too late. The young man held a gun in his hand, his twitching finger ready to pull the trigger. With his jaw clenched Jackson awaited the excruciating pain that awaited him, only to be met by a dull thud, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. He strained his eyes, peering into fog, as Sydney emerged holding a chair in her hand and a gas mask obscuring her face. At will the smoke around them receded and streamed out of the open window in the kitchen. Sydney removed her mask, a look of utter annoyance spread across her face. "What a fantastic welcome home gift," She said. "We've got some cleaning up to do. These Guardians are going to wake up in twenty minutes." "Great," Jackson grunted in reply. Sydney moved over to his side and offered him a hand. He accepted, and once he was standing she grimaced at the state of his face, but made no further comments. As Jackson willed the remaining clouds of smoke to escape through the window she began dragging each body towards the door, leaning them each against the wall as she did so. She inspected their faces, cleaning bloodied patches with a cloth. Jackson stood in the kitchen and washed his face with the warm tap water. Despite its temperature it was soothing enough. "So, I suppose we'll have to drop them off in a nearby alleyway," He said. "I doubt they'll remember much that happened today, let alone the last fifteen minutes."

Cara's Originally Titled OoC Hangout Thread ♥ (Still)

It snowed today here in the UK! For the best part of an hour before the rain-soaked ground ate it all up. God I love it here.

The Dust

Oh yeah, I suppose that should have been obvious :') would gas be alright? (Not that kind of gas before anyone says anything) Though I'm not sure how common gases would be, whether it'd be worth it.

The Dust

So, assuming I'm ok to have water, where exactly would you consider a water environment. Is the sea out of bounds/uninhabitable? I can't see any lakes or rivers, but maybe they aren't marked?

The Dust: [Post.Apoc//Meta-Human//Non-linear//ShapeShifting][OOC is up]

Woah wait, are we playing immortals!?

Prophecy

Perhaps you merely skimmed the first post instead of reading all of it? Tsk tsk. Yes, that was the idea

Aeonumbra

Damn sorry, I'd skipped straight over the paragraph explaining that we would be playing immortals, oops. Can I claim water?

The Dust: [Post.Apoc//Meta-Human//Non-linear//ShapeShifting][OOC is up]

EDIT- I keep quoting the wrong things