Red7VII

X-Men: The New Era - Issue II: Avalon Rising

Did someone call a fireman

Drake Edwards

Name: Drake Edwards
Nicknames/Aliases: "D"

Gender: Male
Age: 22
Physical Description:
6'1"
Fit frame with broad shoulders
Two different colors eyes - one blue and one red, a mutation called heterochromia. This has altered over time to where both eyes are nearly completely crimson.
Dark hair, beard
Various tattoos on his arms and back.
Dresses fairly casually. Usually in blue jeans, a dark t-shirt, leather jacket, boots and often sunglasses to hide his eyes.

Mutations: His mutation has been developing in stages. Initially, and to this day, he was completely fire-proof. Now, he has a fair, albeit unmastered, understanding of pyrokinesis and can produce and manipulate flames and heat at will. Finally, I want the stages of the mutation to end with him transforming into a demon-looking creature (triggered by anger or stress similar to The Hulk) that can command fire masterfully.

His powers are primarily fire-based. He cannot burn, he can control fire, and he can project fire. Once he achieves full mutation, his second form just adds a bit of strength and resilience at the cost of willpower.

Personality: Often sarcastic, analytical and initially more comfortable solo than in a group. It takes some effort to earn Drake's trust, but once you do, you've got a friend for life. Very loyal, willing to go to great lengths to keep his friends and family safe.

Background: Drake grew up in a normal environment. He was born to fairly normal parents in Texas and has a twin brother, Shawn, who still lives there. Shawn was definitely the favorite in the family and an overachiever to boot. His twin brother is on the fast track to achieving his dream of getting a PhD while Drake has always felt more comfortable with a wrench in his hand. While there was no real hard feelings between the brothers, Drake was tired of his parents' constant reminders of his brother's successes while Drake barely graduated high school and didn't even bother applying to colleges. To get out from under his brother's shadow, Drake moved out of Texas and tried to start over elsewhere, becoming a bit of a nomad in search of a purpose.

Recap of your mutations awakening: Drake is not aware of the full potential he possesses. One day while working as a mechanic at a small mom and pop shop, Drake received a new welding tank from the shop owners' vendor. A client had come in requested that a new muffler be welded onto his truck. Drake ignited the torch and suddenly the tank exploded. The shop went up in flames and engulfed Drake's body. Initially in shock and screaming out of instinct, it wasn't long before Drake realized he wasn't actually hurting. In disbelief and panic, he ran through the flames and out to the street, slapping at the scorched remains of his clothes to pat out the fire. Firefighters were soon on the scene and emergency medical personnel pulled Drake toward their ambulance and tried to screen him for injuries. To the shock of everyone, there were none. Other than Drake's clothes, he suffered no burns at all despite being in the heart of the explosion. It was obvious to him and his onlookers that something wasn't right. Drake was not normal. With a look of fear and shame, Drake shoved passed EMS and took off running down the street toward the parking lot where he left his motorcycle. It was time to fill a backpack with what little he owned and move again...

Hi! New RPer here. Lookin for fantasy RPs that have plot!

Welcome, friend. I'm hosting an RP right now that heavily leans on the fantasy genre. You'll see several different types of RPs for several different appetites. Welcome aboard!

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

I realize we aren't all active on discord, so to those who aren't, I wanted to extend my gratitude on this format for the fantastic posts so far. All of your characters are interesting and intriguing in their own ways and thus far it has been a pleasure to read through it all and get to know them. Well done!

X-Men: The New Era - Issue II: Avalon Rising

For your consideration:

Did someone call a fireman

Drake Edwards

Name: Drake Edwards
Nicknames/Aliases: "D"

Gender: Male
Age: 22
Physical Description:
6'1"
Fit frame with broad shoulders
Two different colors eyes - one blue and one red, a mutation called heterochromia. This has altered over time to where both eyes are nearly completely crimson.
Dark hair, beard
Various tattoos on his arms and back.
Dresses fairly casually. Usually in blue jeans, a dark t-shirt, leather jacket, boots and often sunglasses to hide his eyes.

Mutations: His mutation is going to be in stages. Right now, he knows he can't be burnt by flame. Eventually he's going to realize he has Pyrokinesis. Finally, I want the stages of the mutation to end with him transforming into a demon-looking creature (triggered by anger or stress similar to The Hulk) that can command fire.

His powers are primarily fire-based. He cannot burn, he can control fire, and he can project fire. Once he achieves full mutation, his second form just adds a bit of strength and resilience at the cost of willpower.

Personality: Often sarcastic, analytical and initially more comfortable solo than in a group. It takes some effort to earn Drake's trust, but once you do, you've got a friend for life. Very loyal, willing to go to great lengths to keep his friends and family safe.

Background: Drake grew up in a normal environment. He was born to fairly normal parents in Texas and has a twin brother, Shawn, who still lives there. Shawn was definitely the favorite in the family and an overachiever to boot. His twin brother is on the fast track to achieving his dream of getting a PhD while Drake has always felt more comfortable with a wrench in his hand. While there was no real hard feelings between the brothers, Drake was tired of his parents' constant reminders of his brother's successes while Drake barely graduated high school and didn't even bother applying to colleges. To get out from under his brother's shadow, Drake moved out of Texas and tried to start over elsewhere, becoming a bit of a nomad in search of a purpose.

Recap of your mutations awakening: Drake is not aware of the full potential he possesses. One day while working as a mechanic at a small mom and pop shop, Drake received a new welding tank from the shop owners' vendor. A client had come in requested that a new muffler be welded onto his truck. Drake ignited the torch and suddenly the tank exploded. The shop went up in flames and engulfed Drake's body. Initially in shock and screaming out of instinct, it wasn't long before Drake realized he wasn't actually hurting. In disbelief and panic, he ran through the flames and out to the street, slapping at the scorched remains of his clothes to pat out the fire. Firefighters were soon on the scene and emergency medical personnel pulled Drake toward their ambulance and tried to screen him for injuries. To the shock of everyone, there were none. Other than Drake's clothes, he suffered no burns at all despite being in the heart of the explosion. It was obvious to him and his onlookers that something wasn't right. Drake was not normal. With a look of fear and shame, Drake shoved passed EMS and took off running down the street toward the parking lot where he left his motorcycle. It was time to fill a backpack with what little he owned and move again...

Hello Homo Sapiens

Welcome to the forum! You'll fit right in!

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Duncaster

The sun had lost its war with the rain clouds and retreated from the sky hours ago. In their victory, the cloud had wept with glee for a time, leaving the concrete jungle below damp and the air humid. Night time was when Duncaster truly came alive. It's denizens came out in full, no longer having to be wary of nature's vengeful glare from above. The constant hum of vehicular engines that overpopulated the streets, the pitter patter of pedestrians strolling along the puddled sidewalks, voices from several species of citizen rising up in a chorus of conversation that could be painted with aggression, joviality or emotionally muted entirely... This was Duncaster.

A melting pot of culture, Duncaster was home to a variety of intelligent species, all of whom put their mark on the vast metropolis. There were social spots that catered to specific to the most humane as well as the most controversial. Tension among the diverse inhabitants of the city were always high, everyone harboring their own sense of righteousness as well as their own prejudices. Crime was no stranger to the area, either. Be it organized or petty, the devious intentions made themselves known in a variety of ways. Duncaster's police force was a fairly common sight to behold as they patrolled the streets on foot and in their squad cars, and the creatures wearing the badge were as diverse as the people who weren't.

Indeed, Duncaster has seen its fair share of the strange and bizarre. Tonight, however, the city would host a sight it hadn't seen in a very long time...

"Pllleeeaaassseee!" The little girl sat up in her bed, waving her arms dramatically as if trying to fly away, a move performed to magically coax sympathy out of her victims so she could get what she wanted. The effort had completely ruined the blanket tucking that the man had just perfected moments before. The tiny girl looked at the behemoth standing before her, bathing in his shadow that seemed to encompass the entire room. His eyes were black holes that starred down upon her. If there was emotion behind them, she couldn't tell. She used both hands to brush a few strands of her long dark hair out of her own face before pleading again. "Mr. Zeke, just one more time! It can be short! This will be the last time, I promise!"

"You made that promise the last time. And the time before." The voice that came out of the giant's mouth was unnaturally deep. As he looked upon her, he already knew he was going to give in. He was a legendary force to be reckoned with, a beast born of darkness and savagery walking around in a man suit. And yet, somehow, this little girl could completely disarm him with merely a look. "Fine."

The little girl clapped excitedly and laid her head back down in her pillow, a massive grin decorating her face. "The one about the Hoods and the wizard guy," she insisted with glee. "The final battle!" Zeke raised a single eyebrow at her as if trying to analyze what the appeal of this story was to her. Regardless he grabbed a nearby chair from her desk, pulled it over and sat in it awkwardly. It was like an elephant trying to sit on a barstool.

"Long, long ago there was an organization started by the incomparable Blanchette Rouge...

...the undead horde was merciless. The Red Hoods used everything they had at their disposal to pierce the army of the undead, trying with all their might to get to the foul magician, Samael, but their numbers were infinite. Man, vampire, wolf, fae... even those who didnt don a hood took up arms to put a stop to the menace. As soon as you destroyed one of the ghouls, two more came out of the ground in that vast graveyard. He had as many soulless troops as he could ever desire and he sent them at us in waves. He even rose up our dead to fight against us. We would cut them down, employ our magics, rip them apart, but it was as though we were walking uphill in mud. We had to stop and regroup. We had to accept that this would be our last stand. There was no way we could destroy them all, but perhaps if we just destroyed the one... Perhaps we could make our sacrifice mean something. And so I did something I swore I would never do again. I let out the beast and did my best to clear a path while the other Hoods charged. We broke through, but not without casualties, and as soon as we made our way to the dark wizard, he became desperate."

"Because you guys were going to kill him?" she asked, her eyes wide and her mouth agape, completely entranced with the story. Zeke gave her a small, single nod.

"He had nowhere to run and he certainly couldn't defeat the Red Hoods who were now within arm's reach. It was a circle of death with Samael in the center, the Red Hoods surrounding him, ready to make their move, and the undead horde closing in around us... This was our last stand and we all knew it. Then, in a surprising demonstration of cowardice, Samael decided it was time to retreat. With a wave of his hand and a chant from his lips, a portal was summoned. He cried out some crazed thing like 'You won't get me next time' or 'Time is on my side'... To this day, I'm not quite sure what the words were. Even with my ears, it was hard to understand through the moaning of the zombies, the clashing of the weapons and the wailing of the vortex. Regardless, he jumped in. The yellow pissant jumped in to try and escape.

"Well, the Red Hoods were not known for being quitters. This had to end and it had to end tonight. As I held off the horde with the help of some of my fellows, a few of the Hoods jumped in after the wizard. Several of them, in fact. And then the portal closed. In that same moment, the ghouls fell in unison leaving us survivors surrounded by death and confusion."

"Did you ever find him? Samael?" Her eyes were becoming glassy, giving evidence to her sleepiness. She let a small yawn escape as she continued to listen.

"I never did. I looked and looked, but I've never found that human stain nor did I ever manage to find the lost Hoods." Zeke's gaze drifted off, the memories playing out in his mind as if they'd happened yesterday. It was one of his major failures in life. One of many.

"And then what happened?" she asked through a second, more audible yawn. Zeke stood up and readjusted her blanket, pulling it up to her neck and clicking off the lamp on her nightstand.

"Then, it gets complicated. The Red Hoods were broken up, alliances were made, provinces were self-governing, politicians sought more power as they are wont to do, and through several centuries we have ended up where we are today in Duncaster, the heart of the Red Hoods' history where the organization's story started and also where it ended. And now it's time for you to sleep." In the darkness, Zeke's eyes still had an unnatural sheen to them. While the little girl could only make out his silhouette, he could perfectly see the pores on her skin. He turned, finally, and grabbed the doorknob.

"Mr. Zeke?" she asked in a groggy whisper.

"Yes?" came the rumble from the behemoth.

"You're not really hundreds of year old, are you?" Zeke turned his head slightly as if he was prepare to explain further but he stopped himself before his voice could escape his lips. With a calm exhalation through his nostrils, Zeke chose different words.

"Goodnight, Claire."

"G'night, Mr. Zeke," she yawned. He slowly turned the knob and existed the little girl's room before shutting the door back as quietly as he could. He walked down the dim hallway, each step hitting the ground as a stick would hit a drum as he made his way into the living room. A middle aged woman with dark bags under her eyes sat on the couch with a glass of wine watching a program on the television. Her clothes were casual and slightly dirty and her hair looked like it hadn't been washed in a couple of days. She looked at the man with hesitation. There was fear in her stare.

"Rachel," he said, a single-worded farewell.

"B-bye..." she stammered as she watched him leave the apartment. As soon as the door shut behind him, she took in a panicked breath and released it with a quiver as she gripped the stem on her wine glass even harder before setting it upon the coffee table in front of her, no longer able to deal with the idea of keeping it from spilling. Her body sunk back into the couch in loose disarray, relief engulfing her every extremity. Her eyes welled up and her face became flush, her hands unable to stop shaking as they covered her face. She sat slumped in the couch and she just wept.

- + - + - + -

"Ya ain't never gonna catch 'em that way, Cletus!" shouted a rotund Fiend to his single-serving friend. The dark alleys were home to many things. Rodents, lost souls, refuse... The vagrants of Duncaster came in all different shapes, sizes and species.

"I got it, Jeremiah, jus' shhhhh!" Cletus, a particularly skinny human who wore more dirt than clothes, tried to walk in silent, slow motions as he snuck upon his prey. A fat black rat busied himself with a piece of molded cheese crumbs that has been strategically laid out by the two homeless savants.

Jeremiah began to salivate. He and Cletus has formed a decent partnership when it came to staying fed. Cletus would get the meat, Jeremiah would get the blood. It was a system that had worked for several weeks now. As his buddy watched on, Cletus took one more advancing step and began to lean down low, his hands forming an encapsulating dome that he planned to descend upon the rat with force and speed as soon as he could hit the right mark. Slowly... slowly, he arced further. He was nearly a foot above his prey, now. It was time.

Cletus went for it, letting gravity do the rest of the work as the rat found itself in a cage of human flesh. Wiggling and writhing in rage, the rodent was ultimately overpowered and could not escape.

"Got eem!" Cletus announced with pride. Jeremiah gave a toothy grin, letting his supernatural fangs make an appearance past his lips. But then the ground started to rumble. A wind from nowhere picked up and whistled passed the two. The rat became even more frantic in Cletus' grasp. "Da fuck is dis shit?!" Jeremiah's smile was long gone. As he faced Cletus, all he could do was lift a hand and point passed him. Cletus followed the gesture and turned around, looking even further down the alley. What they saw was air and space bending and, in fact, swirling until a purple light began to emit out of the cracks of reality itself. The vision before them opened up further, revealing a tunnel of twisted, unnatural terror. Hurling out of that tunnel was a dark mass that didn't appear to have true form... not until it came out.

With a hard thud, an older man in foreign robes quickly stood up and looked around. His face was painted with confusion as he took in the building and the distant lights. With the portal still swirling behind him, he regarded the two vagrants with an urgent demand.

"When is this?!" he shouted.

"Uhm... I mean, it's Duncaster..." Cletus managed to say, the rat still in his hand as he gawked at the strange man before him.

"That's not what I asked. They're coming!" With another frantic look back at the portal, beads of sweat began to form on his brow. "Look, you two!" he said, returning his gaze once more. "Come with me. We have to leave now. You'll bring me up to speed and I will make your desires a tangible reality. Food, beds, women..." Cletus and Jeremiah exchanged wordless glances of consideration. "...But we have to go now." The strange man then started jogging forth passed the two. Hesitantly, they followed suit.

"Who da fuck are you anyway, mister?" Cletus asked finally.

"You and the rest of the world will know soon enough," the man said with a maniacal laugh as his rapid footsteps echoed off the paved sidewalk. He looked back to his new friends as they hustled and his face instantly was struck with disappointment. "Oh, for crying out loud, just drop the damned rodent!"

Time Travelers - Please read

Your time between going into the portal and coming out of it feels like something that lasted half a minute, however time moves in very mysterious ways. The portal was in a constant flux of destroying, stretching, and reassembling the molecules that make up you and your body. Conversation while in the vortex was impossible, though you could catch glimpses of sight, beholding swirling purple lights and objects without true shape. You may have even caught glimpses of the world around you evolving. When you exit the vortex, you are reformed once more, however, you'll have come out of the vortex nearly an hour after the first person had.

The effects of the trip are up to you. If you want to be nauseous or unaffected by the end of the trip, that is totally within your power.

Welcome to the future.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Who's Afraid

Name:
Ezekiel 'Zeke' Midas

Image/Physical Description:
Standing just under 7 feet in height, Zeke maintains an imposing presence. His body is honed to near muscular perfection. He wears a beard and keeps the hair atop his head relatively short. He tends to dress in darker, casual clothes. A black T-shirt and dark blue jeans is his main staple, as well as a red leather jacket with a black hoodie when the situation calls for it.

Sex:
Male

Age:
420 years

Height:
6' 11" (211cm)

Species:
Exceptional Apex Werewolf

Physical abnormalities (tattoos, scars, etc):
Zeke has a scar, an animal bite, that rests on his right shoulder that has a spherical shape to it, looking almost like the scarification of a jagged sunshine. His arms are decorated with various tattoos, usually images that note a specific moment in his long history that he doesn't want to forget.

Anything else we need to know about you right off the bat (optional):
Zeke was the former enforcer of the Red Hoods, serving as the agency's ultimate weapon against the things that go bump in the night as well as living motivation for those donning the hood to keep in line.

His interactions with the members of the Red Hoods were fairly limited during his career, choosing to converse mostly and nearly exclusively with Commander Rouge. After the Red Hoods took their last stand and ultimately unraveled, Zeke initially tried to salvage the organization but was unsuccessful. He accepted that he was alone in the fight and operated solo, continuing the Red Hoods' fight as a monster that took down worse monsters. As the years went on, Zeke's personality, motivations and attitude changed and evolved with each passing year. The Zeke today is almost unrecognizable from the Zeke of yesteryear. One must determine for themselves whether or not that is a good thing.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Applications are now closed.

Those who've been accepted, please go ahead and move your characters to the character tab.

THE GAME BEGINS TOMORROW

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Who's Afraid

Name:
Ezekiel 'Zeke' Midas

Image/Physical Description:
Standing just under 7 feet in height, Zeke maintains an imposing presence. His body is honed to near muscular perfection. He wears a beard and keeps the hair atop his head relatively short. He tends to dress in darker, casual clothes. A black T-shirt and dark blue jeans is his main staple, as well as a red leather jacket with a black hoodie when the situation calls for it.

Sex:
Male

Age:
420 years

Height:
6' 11" (211cm)

Species:
Exceptional Apex Werewolf

Physical abnormalities (tattoos, scars, etc):
Zeke has a scar, an animal bite, that rests on his right shoulder that has a spherical shape to it, looking almost like the scarification of a jagged sunshine. His arms are decorated with various tattoos, usually images that note a specific moment in his long history that he doesn't want to forget.

Anything else we need to know about you right off the bat (optional):
Zeke was the former enforcer of the Red Hoods, serving as the agency's ultimate weapon against the things that go bump in the night as well as living motivation for those donning the hood to keep in line.

His interactions with the members of the Red Hoods were fairly limited during his career, choosing to converse mostly and nearly exclusively with Commander Rouge. After the Red Hoods took their last stand and ultimately unraveled, Zeke initially tried to salvage the organization but was unsuccessful. He accepted that he was alone in the fight and operated solo, continuing the Red Hoods' fight as a monster that took down worse monsters. As the years went on, Zeke's personality, motivations and attitude changed and evolved with each passing year. The Zeke today is almost unrecognizable from the Zeke of yesteryear. One must determine for themselves whether or not that is a good thing.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Last call for CS submissions! We will wait a few more hours before closing up shop.

@Nightwing95@Xandrya@sly13@Almalthia@Blitzy