Codi's going to wind up dealing with a lot of mental and emotional stress, which is going to motivate her to go train. She's supposed to be a steadfast person who doesn't give up easily on a goal, so chances are if she started training, she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied with her results. I can probably make her more easy to interact with by saying she heads off to go train, although I'm relating to the fact that before you gain the resolve to do something, you typically have to get over the initial shock of whatever tragic incident motivated you to do it in the first place..
Chances are that a lot of dummies and such are going to get destroyed.
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Izurich
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I think my two characters are going to be hiding, depressed in their rooms for awhile. I also have an idea that Codi's mutations are going to alter in response to elevated levels of stress after this incident, since she's mostly designed for a lot of development. It's actually not much of a change in her powers, so much as size and appearance...although I think it would be cool to throw in more spikes and a stronger integration and degree of control over the parasite.
Atticus Fowler and Codi Bailey
Atticus and Codi exchanged glances, before Codi spoke for the group, her voice sounding worn out, although she had no physical signs that she had been involved in the struggle. The look in her eyes was the kind one had when they had been through too much to keep reacting to it, and she felt tired from this whole jungle expedition. “We don’t know what happened, someone got attacked by something, and whatever it was, the others drove it off or beat it, but…” She drifted off, and shook her head, “What kind of things are in this jungle, if the first time we come out here, one person after another nearly gets killed? We didn’t see what happened, but these people were the ones that fought whatever it was. We got there too late to do anything other than help carry away the injured back to the hospital.”
She looked down at Theresa, “It’s good that you were here, though, she could have really died from this.” She said, although she didn’t move to set Theresa down. She still felt the urge to make sure everything was fine, by at least getting her out of this jungle. She looked at Atticus, and then at the stranger, “Can you take a look at the person Atticus is carrying, too? There’s one other person, a teacher, but he was carried off by someone else, and they were moving so quickly that we didn’t see where they went.” She raised a brow with seemingly visible effort at him, and Atticus carefully shifted Aislin in his arms so that the healer could examine her.
Atticus and Codi exchanged glances, before Codi spoke for the group, her voice sounding worn out, although she had no physical signs that she had been involved in the struggle. The look in her eyes was the kind one had when they had been through too much to keep reacting to it, and she felt tired from this whole jungle expedition. “We don’t know what happened, someone got attacked by something, and whatever it was, the others drove it off or beat it, but…” She drifted off, and shook her head, “What kind of things are in this jungle, if the first time we come out here, one person after another nearly gets killed? We didn’t see what happened, but these people were the ones that fought whatever it was. We got there too late to do anything other than help carry away the injured back to the hospital.”
She looked down at Theresa, “It’s good that you were here, though, she could have really died from this.” She said, although she didn’t move to set Theresa down. She still felt the urge to make sure everything was fine, by at least getting her out of this jungle. She looked at Atticus, and then at the stranger, “Can you take a look at the person Atticus is carrying, too? There’s one other person, a teacher, but he was carried off by someone else, and they were moving so quickly that we didn’t see where they went.” She raised a brow with seemingly visible effort at him, and Atticus carefully shifted Aislin in his arms so that the healer could examine her.
Atticus Fowler and Codi Bailey
When Atticus and Codi had chosen to follow Henry, it wasn’t difficult for someone to understand that they had been somewhat hesitant to do as he asked. Often, it was generally expected that when you were in the custody of some sort of chaperone, they asked you to stay safe from danger, not run towards it. It would have been extremely bad had something happened that put all of Henry’s charges in bad shape. Because they were conflicted over what to do, though, as well as inexperienced in the use of their powers for any sort of combat purpose, they wound up traveling a lot slower than everyone else, and lagging behind. The fight had already ended by the time they arrived, and perhaps they would get branded as cowards for it, but in the end, it was better that someone had not been hurt. There were a lot of injured people in need of someone strong and able-bodied, otherwise, they would be stuck in the jungle for a long time. Open wounds in a hot, humid jungle were bad news, unless you healed quickly and had resistance to infection.
They had only arrived in in apparent hurry during the last catches of conversation, when people were proclaiming the need for people to be transported to a hospital. Atticus didn’t recognize the one who had requested help for the other two individuals, but they were injured, and they needed help. There were signs of a battle everywhere. There was lots of snapped and ruined plant life, and for some odd reason, everything was drenched with water. He supposed it was safe, for now, so he decided to do what he could, even if he wasn’t built for lugging heavy weight. He didn’t think he liked the idea of being out in the jungle anymore, though.
Atticus walked over to Aislin, and as carefully as he could, picked her up, careful to make sure she wasn’t hurt by any posture it forced her into, and even though he wouldn’t hoist her onto his back, somehow worried the spines on his arms might poke her. He shook his head, “We were too late in getting here, but I suppose this is the best we can do.” He murmured, before looking over at Codi, “Codi, you can move faster with a heavy load than I can. Use Reef’s arms so that Theresa’s well-supported, she doesn’t look like she can handle a lot of disturbances. She needs to reach the hospital more than anyone here, and it doesn’t take a doctor to see that.” Although he hadn’t formally introduced himself to many people, he would use their names, since it was easier than calling them ‘that one’ or ‘her’ or any other abstract term.
Codi nodded, “Alright, I can do that.” She said. She then walked over to Theresa, and as carefully as she could, lowered down all six of Reef’s arms, weaving them together to form a kind of net underneath her body, which she then scooped up over her head. She then removed the two lowest arms that did the least in supporting the victim, in order to use them for locomotion. “We need to hurry up.” She said, alarmed, but somehow so emotionally tired by the chain of events that she could neither find the strength to grow upset or cry.
In this fashion, without asking any questions about what had happened, the two started to head back towards the main campus with the injured victims in tow. They made their procession rather smoothly, and yet, did not once seem to jostle the individuals they were carrying. They did this without speaking, also, as there was nothing either felt willing to speak of. What Codi had done to Atticus had paled in comparison to the real injuries and possible deaths. What both were probably wondering, was why hadn’t the school prepared more carefully to handle these situations? People could really die from things like this, powers didn’t change that.
Although those who could win a fight and still stand after it would have celebrated it, perhaps, that was purely an unrealistic dream that people told in stories; nobody was celebrating this. A lot of people were hurt, and it wasn’t like the training exercises where people had been watching them to make sure nothing went wrong. In the end, people had even taken those exercises too seriously, enough where Atticus had told Codi afterwards that he suspected someone might have tried to seriously hurt him, if they thought they could get away with it. Charging into violence had real consequences, and a lot of people in the school, in Atticus’ and Codi’s opinion both, did not acknowledge how severe they were. Charging into battle wasn’t something you should take lightly, or consider easy, no matter how strong you were.
It was a decision that could end with someone dying, and even though Atticus and Codi had not seen the fight, the aftermath weighed heavy on their minds.
When Atticus and Codi had chosen to follow Henry, it wasn’t difficult for someone to understand that they had been somewhat hesitant to do as he asked. Often, it was generally expected that when you were in the custody of some sort of chaperone, they asked you to stay safe from danger, not run towards it. It would have been extremely bad had something happened that put all of Henry’s charges in bad shape. Because they were conflicted over what to do, though, as well as inexperienced in the use of their powers for any sort of combat purpose, they wound up traveling a lot slower than everyone else, and lagging behind. The fight had already ended by the time they arrived, and perhaps they would get branded as cowards for it, but in the end, it was better that someone had not been hurt. There were a lot of injured people in need of someone strong and able-bodied, otherwise, they would be stuck in the jungle for a long time. Open wounds in a hot, humid jungle were bad news, unless you healed quickly and had resistance to infection.
They had only arrived in in apparent hurry during the last catches of conversation, when people were proclaiming the need for people to be transported to a hospital. Atticus didn’t recognize the one who had requested help for the other two individuals, but they were injured, and they needed help. There were signs of a battle everywhere. There was lots of snapped and ruined plant life, and for some odd reason, everything was drenched with water. He supposed it was safe, for now, so he decided to do what he could, even if he wasn’t built for lugging heavy weight. He didn’t think he liked the idea of being out in the jungle anymore, though.
Atticus walked over to Aislin, and as carefully as he could, picked her up, careful to make sure she wasn’t hurt by any posture it forced her into, and even though he wouldn’t hoist her onto his back, somehow worried the spines on his arms might poke her. He shook his head, “We were too late in getting here, but I suppose this is the best we can do.” He murmured, before looking over at Codi, “Codi, you can move faster with a heavy load than I can. Use Reef’s arms so that Theresa’s well-supported, she doesn’t look like she can handle a lot of disturbances. She needs to reach the hospital more than anyone here, and it doesn’t take a doctor to see that.” Although he hadn’t formally introduced himself to many people, he would use their names, since it was easier than calling them ‘that one’ or ‘her’ or any other abstract term.
Codi nodded, “Alright, I can do that.” She said. She then walked over to Theresa, and as carefully as she could, lowered down all six of Reef’s arms, weaving them together to form a kind of net underneath her body, which she then scooped up over her head. She then removed the two lowest arms that did the least in supporting the victim, in order to use them for locomotion. “We need to hurry up.” She said, alarmed, but somehow so emotionally tired by the chain of events that she could neither find the strength to grow upset or cry.
In this fashion, without asking any questions about what had happened, the two started to head back towards the main campus with the injured victims in tow. They made their procession rather smoothly, and yet, did not once seem to jostle the individuals they were carrying. They did this without speaking, also, as there was nothing either felt willing to speak of. What Codi had done to Atticus had paled in comparison to the real injuries and possible deaths. What both were probably wondering, was why hadn’t the school prepared more carefully to handle these situations? People could really die from things like this, powers didn’t change that.
Although those who could win a fight and still stand after it would have celebrated it, perhaps, that was purely an unrealistic dream that people told in stories; nobody was celebrating this. A lot of people were hurt, and it wasn’t like the training exercises where people had been watching them to make sure nothing went wrong. In the end, people had even taken those exercises too seriously, enough where Atticus had told Codi afterwards that he suspected someone might have tried to seriously hurt him, if they thought they could get away with it. Charging into violence had real consequences, and a lot of people in the school, in Atticus’ and Codi’s opinion both, did not acknowledge how severe they were. Charging into battle wasn’t something you should take lightly, or consider easy, no matter how strong you were.
It was a decision that could end with someone dying, and even though Atticus and Codi had not seen the fight, the aftermath weighed heavy on their minds.
Alright, then, it looks like my guys will arrive too late to participate, but they're both capable of helping get injured to the hospital, which in its own way, is pretty important, too.
I'm still at a loss as to what I should do. I should probably just post as Atticus or Codi being too slow (Perhaps because self-preservation would make more sense than running towards something dangerous?) to get there until late in the fight. That, or they disobeyed Henry's orders to follow him, and waited a safe distance away, with the justification that they aren't putting themselves in danger like that.
Any opinions? I'm at a loss.
Any opinions? I'm at a loss.
Rosette Sauveterre
Rosette was having a miserable day, even by her own standards, which were always considered to be disturbingly low. She was looking forward to it being over, if she lived to see the next day that followed it. She had missed out on what she considered to be two whole days at the Academy, because she had lost her temper again. She had gotten off of the boat she had been riding on with a relatively good outlook, but when a worker had decided to treat her like a little girl, she had been livid. No other twenty-two-year-old adult had to tolerate a sweet little voice that people automatically used with young children, nor a super-simplified or watered-down version of the important facts.
She had been so angry at the poor worker that she had viciously threatened him, and it had frightened him enough where without any further discussion, she had been dragged off into the Detention Center and thrown in a cell meant to nullify her powers. She had been stuck there for what she suspected had been perhaps too long, but she had no idea. It was a relief when they finally let her out, and when they did, her first order of business had been to drag her luggage into her shared room on the top floor of the west wing. Rosette had then chosen to leave her un-packed luggage on her side of the room, and then leave for a bit to grab something at the cafeteria. She ate quickly, spoke to no one, and had probably never been noticed the entire time. Once she had been satisfied with this, she went back to her dorm room to unpack her things.
When she entered the room, she made no sound. Her footsteps, the breath of her lungs, even the faint rustle of clothing, did not come from her. She had no smell, and her body gave off no heat. She was somewhat transparent, too, just like a ghost, and physically, she looked like a little eleven-year-old girl. Her dress was the only thing that seemed mature about the way she looked, aside from the un-child-like gaze and expression on her face. Her expression, with eyes that looked as though they had seen something awful, would have been perhaps the most frightening thing about her.
She wore a light form-fitting black sports jacket that zipped up at the front, which was left so that it was unzipped about two inches below the breastbone, revealing a dark charcoal grey top underneath. The jacket, which had long sleeves, possessed holes that her thumbs went through, so that only the pale fingers could be seen. Despite the weather, Rosette was also wearing a thin, cool cotton scarf, printed with charcoal grey and black patterns, tied neatly around her neck, with the long, trailing ends hanging down on her right side. On the middle finger of her right hand, a beautiful ring was worn, expensive just in appearance. She wore dark boot-cut jeans, and pure-black running shoes that looked brand-new, until one saw how worn and faded the very soles that made contact with the ground looked. Overall, Rosette’s dress was casual and monochrome, but it was in its own way, beautiful and elegant, going nicely with her medium-length hair, which was for the most part a dark black, save for a single strip near the front on her left side, where a notable strip had gone completely silver, like an old woman’s, and, judging by the color of the roots, was completely natural.
Rosette was having a miserable day, even by her own standards, which were always considered to be disturbingly low. She was looking forward to it being over, if she lived to see the next day that followed it. She had missed out on what she considered to be two whole days at the Academy, because she had lost her temper again. She had gotten off of the boat she had been riding on with a relatively good outlook, but when a worker had decided to treat her like a little girl, she had been livid. No other twenty-two-year-old adult had to tolerate a sweet little voice that people automatically used with young children, nor a super-simplified or watered-down version of the important facts.
She had been so angry at the poor worker that she had viciously threatened him, and it had frightened him enough where without any further discussion, she had been dragged off into the Detention Center and thrown in a cell meant to nullify her powers. She had been stuck there for what she suspected had been perhaps too long, but she had no idea. It was a relief when they finally let her out, and when they did, her first order of business had been to drag her luggage into her shared room on the top floor of the west wing. Rosette had then chosen to leave her un-packed luggage on her side of the room, and then leave for a bit to grab something at the cafeteria. She ate quickly, spoke to no one, and had probably never been noticed the entire time. Once she had been satisfied with this, she went back to her dorm room to unpack her things.
When she entered the room, she made no sound. Her footsteps, the breath of her lungs, even the faint rustle of clothing, did not come from her. She had no smell, and her body gave off no heat. She was somewhat transparent, too, just like a ghost, and physically, she looked like a little eleven-year-old girl. Her dress was the only thing that seemed mature about the way she looked, aside from the un-child-like gaze and expression on her face. Her expression, with eyes that looked as though they had seen something awful, would have been perhaps the most frightening thing about her.
She wore a light form-fitting black sports jacket that zipped up at the front, which was left so that it was unzipped about two inches below the breastbone, revealing a dark charcoal grey top underneath. The jacket, which had long sleeves, possessed holes that her thumbs went through, so that only the pale fingers could be seen. Despite the weather, Rosette was also wearing a thin, cool cotton scarf, printed with charcoal grey and black patterns, tied neatly around her neck, with the long, trailing ends hanging down on her right side. On the middle finger of her right hand, a beautiful ring was worn, expensive just in appearance. She wore dark boot-cut jeans, and pure-black running shoes that looked brand-new, until one saw how worn and faded the very soles that made contact with the ground looked. Overall, Rosette’s dress was casual and monochrome, but it was in its own way, beautiful and elegant, going nicely with her medium-length hair, which was for the most part a dark black, save for a single strip near the front on her left side, where a notable strip had gone completely silver, like an old woman’s, and, judging by the color of the roots, was completely natural.
I dunno, Rosette would be a creepy roommate to have, it might be fun to introduce her walking in, and your character can wonder why she wasn't there earlier, and why her roommate is a little kid (Since Rosette didn't age since she got her powers).
I could probably have her appear in the middle of something, and we can have the satisfaction of watching everyone panic. She doesn't have anything that would allow people to detect her presence, so even animal-metas would get shocked, even with their enhanced senses. At the same time, though, for obvious reasons, she doesn't like phasing out for no real purpose.
I'm just waiting for another post regarding the incident where two of my characters are and...well, how should I introduce Rosette? She's been in detention for a bit, and I'm going to say it's because she experienced a flash of uncharacteristic malicious anger towards an employee, after they made a series of mistakes that aggravated her, and therefore she threatened them...Uh...where should she go?
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