SepticGentleman

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Added some bits to Reyna's dynamics: Arianna and Archie

@Spoopy Scary

Trying to punch Archie's face is a futile attempt. Reyna would just be hitting water, basically.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Obadiah Raleigh

---

Undisclosed location in Baybridge, the day prior...

A small crowd of men and women were standing in a large room, what looked to be an office presentation center of some sort. This, of course, didn't seem to be its most common usage. None of them seemed at all familiar with the carpet flooring and the dull white walls. The windows were all shut, and the blinds were down. The lights were on, but that would soon change.

Most of these people were here at the recommendation of friends who shared their particular views. Others were long-time attendants, simply there because they knew what it entailed, and they enjoyed hearing it. They all had their fair share of troubles and worries, and they came here because they knew someone was aware of their plights, and more importantly, he was doing something about it.

Suddenly, the door in the back of the room opened. All heads turned to watch two men in black suits step inside, and in their company, an older, bespectacled man, wearing a long, black coat, walking on a limp with a cane bracing his arm. A third suited man followed, shutting and locking the door behind him. The old man made slow movements, one by one, around the gathering, towards the front of the room. He motioned towards one of his men, who subsequently went and dimmed the lights. The three stood guard around the room as the old man took a stand at the front, and spoke.

"Good afternoon." He began, "My name is Obadiah Raleigh. I am the founder, manager, and lead speaker of the Rightful Stead Movement. Some of you are already aware of my work across the United States, the rest of you are here to learn. Among us here today are normal humans who all share in a new-age hardship. People who are out of a proper job, stuck bussing tables or operating cashiers, their experience for more practical and high-profile occupations going to waste."

He paused and looked around the room, gauging his audience's nodding and other gestures of acknowledgment. "Sound about right?" He asked. "As we begin, please allow me to share my story of, how all this started. To give you a better understanding of things."

He began pacing on his cane some as he spoke. "Fifteen years ago, I was part of a construction worker's union in Frankfort, Kentucky. I was good friends with the men I worked with. We worked hard, we earned our paychecks, a- simple, story. Frankfort wasn't much of a hotspot for meta-humans back then, not that it is today, but on occasion we saw a few. At such an interval in our lives, we viewed them simply - they had their business, we had ours. We didn't hold any animosity towards them, for the most part. After all, what good was Frankfort able to do any of them? We believed, at the time, that we were safe. That, however, came to change."

People were listening intently.

"In 2007, my last year on the job, my union ran into a... problem." He continued, "A newcomer to the town going by the name of Hank Danvers came along, looking for work. Hank was a simple man who didn't ask for much, accustomed to the lifestyle we all had there. He was also a telekinetic. A very strong one at that. Hank approached the company my union was working for at the time, Fair Day Homes, and they hired him immediately. No hesitation. They were overjoyed that a meta-human had happened upon their area of operation. Such was a rare case in Kentucky, it seemed. Hank's telekinetic powers allowed him to do the work of thirty-six men all at once. Coincidentally, thirty-six men lost their jobs. Myself included."

Some of the audience nodded, knowing full well what that felt like. Others just looked surprised, and pissed off.

"Needless to say, none of us were happy with this change. Hank received more payment than the rest of us for nothing near the same level of effort, but not as much as all of ours combined. We disputed this with Fair Day for months, but we got nothing for our effort except our severance checks."

Some low scoffs from the crowd.

"Now we were all angry, and with good reason. But while I was content with combating the issue legally, my friends were through with it. They decided to strike at the source of the problem directly. While I was disputing yet again with the site manager, they all came armed. And then..."

Obadiah stopped, lowered his head for a moment, and then continued.

"I won't go into details but, I lost friends that day. And..." He shifted his weight to his good foot and made a slight tapping motion with his cane against his other one, making a clanging noise. He went on to say, "But Hank was sent to prison on several counts of excessive retaliation, assault, murder, destruction of property... you get the point."

Stillness returned to the room. Obadiah began pacing again.

"Now, while I was recovering in the local hospital, I started thinking more on the situation at large. Outside of Kentucky. I did research, and I started to see the bigger picture. All over the country, the same thing was already happening. Men and women who had once lived on honest dollars that they'd spent years earning the experience to acquire were being pushed down by wave after wave of meta-humans. Union workers were losing everything to telekinetics and, people with- enhanced strength. Hospitals were hiring amateur healers over people with years of medical training. And then? With all their careers being dashed, they were left to do the most out-of-the-way, menial jobs of all. Janitors, store clerks, waiters - and even then, some of those jobs were taken from them."

More looks of anger, nodding, and groaning.

"I looked and I saw the slope this country was traversing. The humans were sliding down, the metas were strolling on up. And I was convinced, thoroughly, that this current system will eventually fail. Come enough time, society will operate on a meta-favored basis, perpetuated by an unseen force that they'll just call evolution. And where will we be? Down in the muck, with the bar for working and social standards raised so far above our heads that we won't even be able to see the cities they'd have built on top of us by then."

The audience was getting louder. Obadiah raised his hand, having them quiet down some. Maybe he wanted to keep a less audible profile.

"And this is disregarding if we aren't all outright exterminated first. The Verthaven disaster, the incident at Prague, these and plenty of other incidents serve as proof that this society can fail so very easily, by just one hand. It is, frankly, unacceptable."

They agreed.

"Now. Listen." He continued, "This is not a witch hunt. I am not rallying you for some massive culling, to take up arms and occupy the streets - you'll only get yourselves killed. I know that from witnessing it firsthand. But piece by piece, person by person, you can start making your stand on the matter. Baybridge is a focal point in this whole endeavor - if we can make a difference here, then many more cities across the nation will follow without need of our direct intervention. Let any meta-human who would infringe upon your livelihood know that you're not going to let your "inferior genetics" stop you from achieving just as much as they can. Let them know you want them gone, you want your business kept to people you can trust. Deny them service, make your statement, and do not let them scare you, or threaten you and get away with it."

Piping back up, but Obadiah didn't calm them down this time. He just waited until it was quiet enough to speak again.

"Most of you are here because you're close to losing your jobs, and the rest of you already have. My people and I have spent years combating these individual changes, and by coming here today, you all officially have the support of the Rightful Stead Movement, so long as we have yours. We will get you your jobs back, no matter how much we have to argue with your employers - even if we have to whittle them down first. But the best solution would be to make them see things our way. And that's what I want all of you to do."

He pointed at the audience with his free hand.

"Spread the word. Confide in and enlist people you know you can trust. As an individual, you can do your part. As a collective, you can revolutionize. We won't solve this with guns and missiles - we'll solve it as honest, deserving, resilient men and women."

Obadiah nodded and concluded with, "Thank you for your time." He was met with a round of applause, and as he stepped forward, a multitude of the crowd came forward and shook his hand, before his men stepped forward and escorted him out the door.

But behind the inspiring words and eager followers, something truly vitriolic, poisonous even, was forming.

...

The next day...

Obadiah sat and watched the television screen, unimpeded by anything else in the darkened room, wherever that was situated. He saw the uprising unfold, meta-humans under the Allegiance's influence rioting in the streets of Greencrest.

He looked... content, somehow.

"Sir?" Came a voice from his side, over by the door. Obadiah turned his head as the man continued, "It's getting bad out there. Are you sure you don't want to leave the city?"

Obadiah sighed. "No." He replied, "We're fine where we are. Stay at your posts."

"Yes sir." The man replied, stepping away. Obadiah turned back towards the screen and continued to watch the events transpire.

"Just what we needed." He said under his breath, halfheartedly.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

@Mr Allen J Here.

Obadiah Raleigh

Name:

Obadiah Raleigh

Age:

67

Description:

Obadiah is an older gentleman. Wrinkled skin, blue eyes, short grey hair with faint strands of white, and a bushy goatee. Wears thin-rimmed glasses, has developed a permanent scowl. Always seen in working-casual clothes and a long, black felt coat. Right leg is a metal prosthetic, walks around with a braced cane.

Obadiah is an anti-meta advocate from Frankfort, Kentucky. He began his work after his original construction union was brought to ruin by a telekinetic, intent on creating a split in society so that humans could live unimpeded by metas raising standards for common occupational positions. He's quietly come to Baybridge in an effort to strike a division between the humans and metas there, hoping more of the country will follow in succession.

Powers:

N/A

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

@Mr Allen J Weh.

Reform

• An anti-meta advocate from the southeastern US has come to Baybridge. Instead of stalking meta-humans in the night and cutting them down, he has decided to breed turmoil in another fashion - turning the human citizens against them. No physical violence on his behalf - just old-fashioned public speaking, shady deals, and vicious campaigning for a new age of segragation.

---

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Five bucks says the Demon in question is literally just Hannibal Lecter.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

A strange condition is appearing in the Metahumans around Baybridge - they are suddenly losing control of their powers, and end up causing massive amounts of damage to the surrounding area. DOVE is looking into the matter, but all they are recovering from the scene is a thick needle injected into the Metahuman in question with no discernible traces. Who is behind this? And more importantly; who's next?

@Mr Allen J

_{ゴ ゴ} ゴ _ゴ ゴ _{ゴ ゴ} ^{ゴ ゴ}

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

I believe that every single character is actually Ari tbh

@FernStone

If everyone's Ari, then no one is.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

The memes sing softly into the long, unforgiving night.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

<Snipped quote by BurningDaisies>

5/10 might consider if more bones

@Spoopy Scary

I count at least seven bone.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Archie Davis and Harmon Rottlage

Strong Gold Community, Silver Hills

Well, they made it. Not that bad of a bus ride over, even if they did get some looks, but that stopped bothering the both of them a while ago. Archie and Harmon looked around the scores of people that'd come together to celebrate this Jiao-Long Liu figure's kindly venture. It did not seem like those of Archie and Harmon's caliber were all that welcome, however. The passing gazes persisted all the while.

After the speech, they wandered further into the massing, only for Archie to stop and whip out his phone minutes in. He had Harmon hang back for a second as he texted someone.

TO: Zach
Harmon and I are at a big party right now for a new neighborhood. Lotsa cool shit if you and Vero wanna come up and see.

And he got a response not even a minute later.

FROM: Zach
NOT TONIGHT MAN. TED'S BRINGING ALL THE WARRIORS DOWN TO THE CIRCLE FOR EXTREME FUCKING. CHERRY'S BAND IS PLAYING TOO. V AND I ARE GONNA WATCH AND THEN CHILL TOGETHER LATER.

TO: Zach
Alright, if you say so. Probably for the best, I have some business to take care of on short notice.

FROM: Zach
WHAT BUSINESS?

TO: Zach
You know. Business.

FROM: Zach
OH. YEAH THEN NAH YOU HANDLE THAT WITH H. GONNA BE HAVING PLENTY OF FUN HERE.

TO: Zach
Actually I should probably ask Harmon if he wants to head back inside. We both know he's not into these arrangements.

FROM: Zach
YEAH SEND THAT SKINNEH BOI OUR WAY. WE'LL MAKE SURE HE HAS A GOOD TIME.

Archie turned his attention towards Harmon, who was staring off with his camera in the direction of wherever. He tapped his shoulder and started typing on his phone again. It was too loud around them for text to speech, so he just motioned for Harmon to read his text mentally.

You wanna head back inside and stay with Zach and Vero while I handle things up here?

Harmon nodded. "I-I think that's for the best." He said, nodding. Archie then proceeded to set down his backpack, unzip it, open up the bag inside wide enough to jump down into, and Harmon did so. Archie closed everything back up, the whole thing lasting about a minute. The moment he slung his backpack over his shoulder, he looked around to see an understandable number of people watching him, wondering what the hell just happened. And he just waved them off happily, silently hoping no one would report the incident to a DOVE or RAVEN agent attending the celebration. He continued to explore the party, just waiting for Arianna to pull him out of the crowd. He wondered whose form she'd be taking tonight.

His money was on George Burns.