Introduction
They weren't born. They were made. Clones, to be more exact. Their DNA was taken from the greatest individuals in history, and then changed. Their DNA was manipulated to become a better, greater version of their previous selves. Enhanced intellect for some, enhanced speed for others, there was a plentitude of abilities that they were graced with.
The program was in trouble. The researchers hadn't used legal means to procure the DNA nor genetically alter it. The cloning of humans, while theirs was successful, was also a crime. They had changed DNA, mutilated the it far more genetically than would ever be seen on the surface. But when the cops went to arrest them, the researchers had vanished, along with their research and equipment.
All that remained were the babies. Each lay in a small hospital cot, and none were more than a weeks old. Labeled, on a neat handwritten card at the head of each cot was their name. Usually, a rather familiar looking name, but a name nonetheless. So the children were taken, their birthdate all labeled as the day they were found at the lab, much of the other information fudged or just completely left out, and placed into the system. As time went by, they were spread apart. And when they grew up, none of them had any knowledge of their past. They only knew one thing. That they were different from other people. Different in ways that were not always accepted. Different in ways that needed to be hidden.
It's been nineteen years to the day that the police took the children from the lab, and something terrible has happened. Nineteen year old Leon Vincent was found dead in his college dorm. An art student, all his professors and friends raved about him and how he was going places, and all were shocked to find that he'd been murdered. His boyfriend explained, through tears, that Leon was a decent guy. No one hated him, no one would have wanted to kill him.
And today, each of the children, or rather, young adults, every single one of them, received a neat, typed out note. Given to them in very strange ways, they would all come to read the following words.
"Vincent was the first. They're coming for you next.
July 30, 8 PM
4743 Judson Avenue, New York, New York."
Many would have considered it a joke, and tossed the note, had a file not been attached to it. A file detailing the police raid on the Eran Labs on July 11th, and listing the names of the multiple children who'd been found, and where they'd ended up after the fact. A file which contained all the information on their life. Information they had never even known.
"The children have been located. Begin process beta four-oh-eight."
"Yes sir. Have they any idea though, about who they are?"
"No. And I intend to keep it that way."
"But withholding that information, especially when one of them has gone rogue-"
"We knew the risks of keeping him with us. It is entirely our own fault. They need not be involved."
"If they find the truth out, they won't believe it, will they?"
"Will they believe that we stole the DNA of dead historical figures to create them? No. I should hope not."
- Code: Select all
[center]
[right][img]imagehere[/img][/right][size=200][font=Times New Roman]N A M E - H E R E[/font][/size]
[b]F A C E C L A I M[/b]
( faceclaim here)
[b]A G E[/b]
( age here )
[b]G E N D E R[/b]
( gender here )
[b]B I R T H D A Y[/b]
( birthday here )
[b]H E I R - O F[/b]
( person they got dna from here )
[b]E N H A N C E D - A B I L I T Y[/b]
( give them a SINGLE super power )
[b]H O M E T O W N[/b]
( hometown here )
[hr][/hr]
[left][img]250pxWideImageHere[/img]
[img]250pxWideImageHere[/img][/left][/center][center][size=200][font=Times New Roman]Personality[/font][/size][/center]
[b] G E N E R A L[/b]
( basic summary )
[b]H O B B I E S[/b]
( at least three here )
[b]S E X U A L I T Y[/b]
( sexuality here )
[b]F A V O R I T E S[/b]
[list]
[*]( favorite )
[*]( things )
[*]( here )
[*]( please )
[*]( list )
[*]( them )[/list]
[hr][/hr]
[right][img]250pxWideImageHere[/img]
[img]250pxWideImageHere[/img]
[img]250pxWideImageHere[/img][/right][center][size=200][font=Times New Roman]History[/font][/size][/center]
[b] F A M I L Y[/b]
[list]
[*]Mother = [i]( adopted mother's name here )[/i]
[*]Father = [i]( adopted father's name here )[/i]
[*]( other here ) = [i]( replace with other family members, etc. )[/i]
[/list]
[b]B I O G R A P H Y[/b]
( few paragraphs of history here )
[hr][/hr]
[left][img]250pxWideImageHere[/img]
[img]250pxWideImageHere[/img][/left][center][size=200][font=Times New Roman]Miscellaneous[/font][/size][/center]
[b]R E L A T I O N S H I P S[/b]
[i]Significant Other[/i]
[list]
[*] NA
[i]Friends[/i]
[*] NA
[i]Colleagues[/i]
[*] NA
[i]Other[/i]
[*] NA[/list]
[b]O C C U P A T I O N[/b]
( current occupation )
[b]S P E A K S[/b]
( preferred language )
[b]W E A P O N[/b]
( any weapons they have )
- 53 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 9 authors
The location that the children had been required to gather at was more impressive than their note would have led them to believe. A large mansion, built to look an awful lot like a castle, the grand front doors were open, though a large burly man stood at the door, ready to check anyone who entered. He would require first the person who wanted to enter to show that they had been invited in and then ask them to hand over their cellphones should they wish to continue, and then instruct them to head inside and take a seat. Whether or not they did wish to continue was apparently up to them, but there was the an equally large burly man now standing by the exit, letting all enter, though they might receive different treatment should they attempt to leave.
Inside of the house, they would first come upon the large grand entrance room. It had been done up nicely, and there were just enough chairs set out in the center of the room for the number of guests expected. Their host would be nowhere to be seen yet, though there were sounds that could be heard throughout the mansion, so it was clear they were not alone.
Inside of the house, they would first come upon the large grand entrance room. It had been done up nicely, and there were just enough chairs set out in the center of the room for the number of guests expected. Their host would be nowhere to be seen yet, though there were sounds that could be heard throughout the mansion, so it was clear they were not alone.
Gregory Richardson hated airport security, partially because it was long, slow, and tedious, but mostly because he was almost always, without fail, pulled up. He had no idea why, he was white, well dressed, quiet, kept to himself, and was often just reading a book and trying to ignore the fact he was surrounded by morons. Perhaps he just gave off some air of malice, but every time he entered an airport or boarded a plane, he found himself being singled out and interrogated.
The fact he had a gun and a ornate straight razor in his check in luggage would have probably had something to do with it, and he wouldn't be surprised if he was red listed by the California police. He was one of the most notable drug dealers in LA. A fact he was most proud of.
The flight had gone without incident, all as possibly normal as a plane could be. The movie was crap, the food was worse, and none of the hostesses flirted back, which did nothing to improve his already sour demeanour. Finally the captain relit the fasten seatbelt sign and the hostesses returned to their seats, alerted to the fact that the plane was coming in to land.
They were finally at New York.
Gregory had never been to New York, though he had heard much about it, or at least about the myth of the place. "The city of dreams", "The big apple", "If you make it here you can make it anywhere!" All that tripe. Gregory had never had much interest in visiting the place, he was not in the least bit patriotic, and aside from those great signs of american prosperity, the united state building and the old iron lady, there was not much there to do or see. He had purposefully arrived a day earlier than the suspicious letter he had received had described so he could get a feel for the place, book a hotel, and maybe find a nice bar in which to find some suitably delectable specimen to take back to said hotel.
He was not exactly short on cash, despite what the government would have you believe, as long as you kept your morals low and your friends high, dealing narcotics was an incredibly lucrative business. As such, he eventually found a hotel that suited his tastes and booked out a nice room, not too good, that attracted attention, and a slipped hundred dollar bill to the clerk ensured his name remained absent from the logs.
If things did go south on this curious endeavour, he wanted at least a couple of cards in his hand. Not that the clerk would keep his word if asked, but it avoided his name being mentioned, and gave the clerk an incentive to ensure his room was tidy, he was well looked after, and most importantly, remained undisturbed.
He tossed the small bag he had brought with him onto the bed of the large king double that sat proudly in the centre of his suite, and began rifling through it. Shirts, pants, underwear, a book he was already done reading, toiletries and a laptop were all removed before retrieving his prize. A small, solid, pin activated box lay at the bottom of his bag, its matt black colouring almost invisible in the dark of the bag.
With a almost giddy, hasty manner, he retrieved the box and set it on a nearby table, entering the pin with a covered hand before opening it with a soft clack.
Inside sat three items, a pistol, clack and chrome, a spare clip for said firearm, and a ornately designed silver and gold mens straight razor. With a relief that bordered on the obsessive, he picked up the blade and held its folded form tightly in his hand, its cold metal soothing to the nerves he had not realised were so frayed from the trip. After a few more moments, he placed the blade back and resealed the box, before hitting the shower and getting dressed for going out, he was going to at least have some fun while he was here.
In New York, there appeared to be an abundance of 'quantity' and a lacking of 'quality' in the calibre of the bars that populated its densely packed streets. Club after club, bar after bar he passed none of them holding any real interest, he was starting to see why he had never come to New York before. He was also starting to miss the accelerative effects of his usual stream of narcotics. His hyper regenerative body ensured that he had to ingest large quantities of his poison of choice before any effects could be felt, but the trade off was that he suffered none of the withdrawal symptoms and aside from the simple desire for the sensation, could not become addicted.
Its not like he didn't try though.
He popped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it with a zippo he kept in his pocket, inhaling deeply as the smoke filled his lungs. Tonight was showing no promise, and he decided that the best thing to do would be to go back to the hotel, perhaps research a little about the place he was to be going in the morning.
But first he had to make a stop.
Everyone assumes that finding a dealer is this long, convoluted process that involves you knowing a guy who knows a guy who is buddies with a dealer, but the truth is, as long as you know what you are looking for, you can find a dealer anywhere in the world, as long as you follow the clues. And Gregory was very knowledgeable in that area of expertise. A half hour of basic detective work led him to a dark alley that speared off a main street, its shadows long and its corners dark.
It was into this place that Gregory strode, in his element as much as it were possible. A knock on an innocuous door, a few muttered words through a letter hole, and Gregory was returning to his hotel pleased.
Cocaine here was at least half the price of what he sold it for in LA, now he could enjoy the nigh in peace.
Gregory caught a cab to the address, not bothering to try and map his own way there, it was simpler to just get a taxi and be done with it. It also gave him time to prepare himself. He had often wondered about his birth parents, ever since his mother had revealed that her and his deceased father were not in fact his biological relatives. The matter he had found curious, but not life consuming. He wondered whether his real parents were out there somewhere, for surely there had to be someone, and were they like him? Were they able to do what he could do? He didn't know but had never bothered to investigated.
And now the answer had been dropped in his lap.
He was a lab experiment, a test tube baby, a genetic mutant. The knowledge did not surprise him as much as disappoint him, for in all the fantasies he had had about his hyper-regeneration, ranging from radioactive waste exposure to being the child of the gods, being genetically altered in a lab was on the less exciting end of the spectrum.
But it didn't matter, answers were answers.
And he had no more time to ponder, the trip had taken less time than he had anticipated, they were there already, and he appeared to be the first to arrive.
"Well," he said exiting the cab and tossing the driver a bill, "Here goes nothing."
The fact he had a gun and a ornate straight razor in his check in luggage would have probably had something to do with it, and he wouldn't be surprised if he was red listed by the California police. He was one of the most notable drug dealers in LA. A fact he was most proud of.
The flight had gone without incident, all as possibly normal as a plane could be. The movie was crap, the food was worse, and none of the hostesses flirted back, which did nothing to improve his already sour demeanour. Finally the captain relit the fasten seatbelt sign and the hostesses returned to their seats, alerted to the fact that the plane was coming in to land.
They were finally at New York.
Gregory had never been to New York, though he had heard much about it, or at least about the myth of the place. "The city of dreams", "The big apple", "If you make it here you can make it anywhere!" All that tripe. Gregory had never had much interest in visiting the place, he was not in the least bit patriotic, and aside from those great signs of american prosperity, the united state building and the old iron lady, there was not much there to do or see. He had purposefully arrived a day earlier than the suspicious letter he had received had described so he could get a feel for the place, book a hotel, and maybe find a nice bar in which to find some suitably delectable specimen to take back to said hotel.
He was not exactly short on cash, despite what the government would have you believe, as long as you kept your morals low and your friends high, dealing narcotics was an incredibly lucrative business. As such, he eventually found a hotel that suited his tastes and booked out a nice room, not too good, that attracted attention, and a slipped hundred dollar bill to the clerk ensured his name remained absent from the logs.
If things did go south on this curious endeavour, he wanted at least a couple of cards in his hand. Not that the clerk would keep his word if asked, but it avoided his name being mentioned, and gave the clerk an incentive to ensure his room was tidy, he was well looked after, and most importantly, remained undisturbed.
He tossed the small bag he had brought with him onto the bed of the large king double that sat proudly in the centre of his suite, and began rifling through it. Shirts, pants, underwear, a book he was already done reading, toiletries and a laptop were all removed before retrieving his prize. A small, solid, pin activated box lay at the bottom of his bag, its matt black colouring almost invisible in the dark of the bag.
With a almost giddy, hasty manner, he retrieved the box and set it on a nearby table, entering the pin with a covered hand before opening it with a soft clack.
Inside sat three items, a pistol, clack and chrome, a spare clip for said firearm, and a ornately designed silver and gold mens straight razor. With a relief that bordered on the obsessive, he picked up the blade and held its folded form tightly in his hand, its cold metal soothing to the nerves he had not realised were so frayed from the trip. After a few more moments, he placed the blade back and resealed the box, before hitting the shower and getting dressed for going out, he was going to at least have some fun while he was here.
In New York, there appeared to be an abundance of 'quantity' and a lacking of 'quality' in the calibre of the bars that populated its densely packed streets. Club after club, bar after bar he passed none of them holding any real interest, he was starting to see why he had never come to New York before. He was also starting to miss the accelerative effects of his usual stream of narcotics. His hyper regenerative body ensured that he had to ingest large quantities of his poison of choice before any effects could be felt, but the trade off was that he suffered none of the withdrawal symptoms and aside from the simple desire for the sensation, could not become addicted.
Its not like he didn't try though.
He popped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it with a zippo he kept in his pocket, inhaling deeply as the smoke filled his lungs. Tonight was showing no promise, and he decided that the best thing to do would be to go back to the hotel, perhaps research a little about the place he was to be going in the morning.
But first he had to make a stop.
Everyone assumes that finding a dealer is this long, convoluted process that involves you knowing a guy who knows a guy who is buddies with a dealer, but the truth is, as long as you know what you are looking for, you can find a dealer anywhere in the world, as long as you follow the clues. And Gregory was very knowledgeable in that area of expertise. A half hour of basic detective work led him to a dark alley that speared off a main street, its shadows long and its corners dark.
It was into this place that Gregory strode, in his element as much as it were possible. A knock on an innocuous door, a few muttered words through a letter hole, and Gregory was returning to his hotel pleased.
Cocaine here was at least half the price of what he sold it for in LA, now he could enjoy the nigh in peace.
Gregory caught a cab to the address, not bothering to try and map his own way there, it was simpler to just get a taxi and be done with it. It also gave him time to prepare himself. He had often wondered about his birth parents, ever since his mother had revealed that her and his deceased father were not in fact his biological relatives. The matter he had found curious, but not life consuming. He wondered whether his real parents were out there somewhere, for surely there had to be someone, and were they like him? Were they able to do what he could do? He didn't know but had never bothered to investigated.
And now the answer had been dropped in his lap.
He was a lab experiment, a test tube baby, a genetic mutant. The knowledge did not surprise him as much as disappoint him, for in all the fantasies he had had about his hyper-regeneration, ranging from radioactive waste exposure to being the child of the gods, being genetically altered in a lab was on the less exciting end of the spectrum.
But it didn't matter, answers were answers.
And he had no more time to ponder, the trip had taken less time than he had anticipated, they were there already, and he appeared to be the first to arrive.
"Well," he said exiting the cab and tossing the driver a bill, "Here goes nothing."
"An audition in New York City! My little girl!"
Willa Lance-Jones plastered on a smile as convincing as her lie as her adoptive mother hugged her tightly outside the airport. It hurt her that she was believed so easily; she thought that her mother at the very least would be able to see through her façade, through the faked letter and feeble enthusiasm. Part of her wanted to be found out and made to stay home, where she was just Willa. Funny, how the answers she always wanted turned out to not be the answers she always wanted. It was so hard to wrap her mind around the whole concept, that she was made, not born, and she was still in shock. These sorts of things only happened in science fiction films, and certainly not to people like her. Willa kept waiting for someone to jump out and yell "Gotcha!" and put her life back into order. She just wanted to go home with her mum and her dad and her silly kid brother and watch bootlegs of her favorite shows on the West End, to write this off as a bad joke.
But if she stayed home and someone did come for her, her family would be in danger. If she contacted the authorities, they likely would have her detained, and she still wouldn't know who or what was targeting her. And she knew this was no joke; Willa was always different, stronger, faster, smarter, and she could do amazing things with her mind. That she was a genetically altered being was better than many of her own theories (some of which included the planet Krypton or a Chameleon Arch). Part of her was relieved to finally have answers. The part that wasn't terrified and about to board a plane to New York, at least.
So Willa hugged her mum and dad, mussed up Ollie's curls, and hoped she wasn't making a terrible mistake as she turned her back on her family and made her way through TSA.
It wasn't until she was buckled into her seat on the plane that she let the mask drop and started to cry.
Willa Lance-Jones plastered on a smile as convincing as her lie as her adoptive mother hugged her tightly outside the airport. It hurt her that she was believed so easily; she thought that her mother at the very least would be able to see through her façade, through the faked letter and feeble enthusiasm. Part of her wanted to be found out and made to stay home, where she was just Willa. Funny, how the answers she always wanted turned out to not be the answers she always wanted. It was so hard to wrap her mind around the whole concept, that she was made, not born, and she was still in shock. These sorts of things only happened in science fiction films, and certainly not to people like her. Willa kept waiting for someone to jump out and yell "Gotcha!" and put her life back into order. She just wanted to go home with her mum and her dad and her silly kid brother and watch bootlegs of her favorite shows on the West End, to write this off as a bad joke.
But if she stayed home and someone did come for her, her family would be in danger. If she contacted the authorities, they likely would have her detained, and she still wouldn't know who or what was targeting her. And she knew this was no joke; Willa was always different, stronger, faster, smarter, and she could do amazing things with her mind. That she was a genetically altered being was better than many of her own theories (some of which included the planet Krypton or a Chameleon Arch). Part of her was relieved to finally have answers. The part that wasn't terrified and about to board a plane to New York, at least.
So Willa hugged her mum and dad, mussed up Ollie's curls, and hoped she wasn't making a terrible mistake as she turned her back on her family and made her way through TSA.
It wasn't until she was buckled into her seat on the plane that she let the mask drop and started to cry.
Rob Dunbar
"There's too much concrete."
Rob stepped out of the airport terminal and into the dirty air that was New York. In fact, dirt seemed to seep into the air from the streets. He could see the metropolis that was Broadway from a distance. The noise pollution was something he never considered when accepting this invitation and it was deafening. Cars honked. People shouted. The constant sound of bags rolling across the lot to get into the distracting yellow taxis and head to their destination. It was a lot to take in. He could already feel a migraine coming on and almost instinctively went to cover his ears.
"I guess we're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy,"
Rob turned around to give Johnathan his auspicious glare. "Did you seriously just say that?" He felt like he needed to shout over the sound of people and cars.
Johnathan shrugged, "It holds some level of truth. This isn't the small rural town of Camden. This is New York, a corporate powerhouse."
"Don't remind me," Rob scoffed as he attempted to hail a taxi. "I'm not going to feel comfortable until we get back to Ohio."
"Is it because of what was in the file?" Johnathan asked.
"Don't talk about that here," Rob warned. "Wait until we get to the hotel."
Finally, a taxi pulled up. Rob made a motion for the taxi driver to open the trunk, who immediately obeyed. Rob set his two bags, one containing his clothes and necessities, the other had his bow and arrows as well as a quiver. Johnathan set his bag of clothes down and his extremely long bag that contained two bow staffs. The bow and arrow were tougher to get through security than two sturdy sticks, but airport security in Cincinnati was lax and they bought his story of an archery competition being held in New York. He thought about bringing his short sword, but decided that it would be too much for airport security to handle and it would ultimately be confiscated. Regardless, he felt more secure taking some level of defense with him, in case what the note said was true. Rob and Johnathan got into the cab.
"So where is this awesome hotel that you've booked us at?" Rob asked as Johnathan gave the cab driver the street address.
"You'll see," Johnathan grinned. "It's kind of my surprise."
Rob nodded, not wanting to ruin his fun. He sighed in relief as the doors closed, muffling the sound outside. Now he could think clearly.
He was a test tube baby. That's what the note and the file said. And he was being hunted. But why though? That was the serious question. He recalled his encounter with the note. He was taking a walk on one of his favorite trails that lead in a loop through the forest. He liked it there since the trees were covered by moss and the overall appeal the forest gave off. He was testing his newest bow he'd just fashioned for his birthday, making it as strong and as durable as ever. He was nocking arrows, firing them into noticeable marks on trees, hitting every time. He felt good...that is until he came across his target.
At the end of trail, right before it loops around again, Rob set up a target in which he would fire arrows from a variety of positions, including in the canopy of trees, leaping across boulders, and other landmarks of the area. However, when he got there this time, the target already had a black shafted arrow in it, stapling the note and file to the target. He couldn't decipher the note right away since it was vague about who Vincent was, but the file revealed so much more.
He was a test tube baby, a genetic experiment who was placed into foster care after a raid took place. This was why his adoptive parents had no record of who he truly was, no mention of his father or mother. It was because he had neither. It also showed a list of all the other people who were placed in the same shoes as he was. Using the library as a resource, he looked up as much information as he could. The most prominent results were Isaiah Newmond, boy genius and Oxford snob, and Leo Vincent, a painting guru who ended up being murdered with no clear motive. Deciding this was the Vincent that was killed and that the same killer would be gunning for him, he took this trip to the urban jungle to find answers.
He looked toward Johnathan, who was staring out the window. He was extremely fortunate to have a friend like him. Only he and Erin knew exactly what he was in New York for. Only he could be trusted with this information. Only he would help set up and pay for this trip. It shocked him to the bone when Johnathan asked Erin to stay in Camden. The two were inseparably in love, and still he picked Rob. Johnathan was willing to put his relations aside to help him out and for that, he was very grateful.
"We're here!"
Rob felt the taxi pull to the side and stop, looking around. On his left, he saw grass. This actually brought a smile to his eye as he realized where they were: Central Park. Central Park wasn't Camden, Ohio, but it was as close to it as he was going to get. Oh his right, he saw the hotel on his right, a standard three star with the only thing going for them was the location. Johnathan had already payed and tipped the driver and was unloading the trunk. Rob got out and helped him.
Twenty minutes later, they were inside, unpacking their clothes. They were only here a couple of days, so they packed relatively light. Johnathan had already pulled out his laptop and plugged it in. He'd drained the battery on the plane. Rob immediately pulled out the note and the file, placing them on his bed. He then opened his bow case, examining his new bow inside.
It was nothing different to look at compared to all his other bows. Same reddish tint carried in the wood. Same smooth string holding the two ends together and drawing them tight. But he knew the difference between each bow was on the inside. Picking it up, he felt almost nothing. He guessed that part of it was that his arms have become steel cords from years of drawing back resistance in the string, but he knew the other part of it was how he crafted the bow. The string was strung tight and as durable as it was, it would keep that way for a long time. His arrows were the same way as he looked to inspect them during transit. Not a single bend. He smiled as he counted to make sure all thirty were there and put them in his quiver. His arrows were kept razor sharp, the feathers positioned perfectly. The shaft was made from the same wood the bow was made from. He liked the material of Osage as it was strong and durable.
Rob went back to the bag to examine the black shafted arrow. It was cool and smooth to the touch. Rob didn't recognize the wood used in making this arrow, but he knew it was one of a kind. The tip was sharper than he ever felt, perhaps too sharp for it's design. The feathers were off by a bit, but he knew how to counteract that. He put the black arrow into the quiver as well. It may be handy one day.
"So, what do you think?"
Rob turned around to find Johnathan opening the curtains to their room, revealing the massive park below them. Rob grinned.
"I really appreciate that. Thank you."
Johnathan walked over to the bed and picked up the file. Opening it, he examined the news articles. His smile turned into a frown of concentration. "So who do you think sent the message?"
Rob had already considered this and had a theory. "I don't think it's the killer. I mean if he was going to invite us all and eliminate us with one fair swoop, then why did he kill Leo Vincent first? It doesn't make sense that way. I think it's the scientists, trying to preserve their precious experiments."
"What about the rest of these names?"
"As far as I'm concerned, I don't care how the rest of these people live their lives. I'm probably going to meet some people that I like more than others. But we're all here to gain some knowledge on this killer and try to stop him or her. After that, who knows? I plan on going back to Camden though. I have no interest in making friendships with these people."
"Well, I've been thinking. You're the greatest marksman the universe has ever seen. Leo Vincent was a brilliant painter. Do you think these other people have unique abilities that make them stand out?"
Rob hadn't considered that, but it was possible. "There was one person I looked up from the list, Isaiah Newmond. he's a brilliant prodigal physicist with the potential to become the next famous scientist. Your theory is entirely possible. Maybe that will be explained tonight."
"Am I coming tonight?" Johnathan implored.
"You can come with me to the place, but you can't go inside," Rob reasoned. "This invitation was meant for me and only for me. I don't know how they'd take you knowing anything about this. They might even kill you. I guess go sightseeing while I'm there and we can regroup when I'm done.
Johnathan nodded in agreement. "Makes sense."
Rob sighed, falling back on his bed. "I'm so cramped up in this room. You wanna go bow staff fighting in the park?"
Johnathan chucked, a curious brow lifted. "People will stare. It's not everyday you see two people play fighting with sticks."
"Let 'em stare," Rob walked over to the bag, pulling out the sticks. "If New York is as cruel as they say it is, they'll look the other way regardless. Besides, I wanna be prepared for anything." He held out the staff for Johnathan to take, who reluctantly did.
A few hours later, Rob and Johnathan got out of the cab at the address given on the note. The house was more like a castle with fence gates and even guards positioned.
"I can practically taste aristocracy," Rob complained, opening the trunk to get out the bow staff he brought. He'd use it as a walking stick for now, but if he needed to fight, he'd be able to. He felt better walking in with something and although he preferred the bow, that would look too aggressive.
"Just get in, get what info you need, and get out," Johnathan said, picking up his own "walking stick". "I'll be waiting out here. Then we can go hiking in New Jersey."
Rob nodded, and walked to the guard, showing his invitation. The guard let him through and he walked briskly into the house. There wasn't too much noise in the house, but enough to let him know that there were people there. The man from LA was already there. Rob recalled the name Gregory out of somewhere. Definitely a person to avoid. He was the one he found the least information on, meaning that he was in a shady business. He sat in one of the pre-positioned chairs and waited for more arrivals.
After finally making his way out of the clutches of his auntie Nadine, her five million questions about what he had and didn't, also a lunch... how bloody long had it been since she had made him a lunch. You'd swear he was a kid all over again and it was his first day of school. He sighed as he walked his way up the terminal into the plane. Pulling his headphones out of his ears, shutting off his phone, Shawn found his seat and flopped down into it. Still sort of nervously fidgeting with the beat of the song still ringing in his head for the moment. He started to look around trying to deny the inevitable onslaught that would soon assault his senses. He just hoped they got up in the air soon, so he could listen to his music again. Shawn had learned over the years how to sort of block it out, but when he was nervous it made that substantially harder. Just as that thought had crossed his mind it began, everyone that had managed to strike up a conversation on the plane, the humming of machines, the pilot and co-pilot in the cockpit going over the pre-flight checklist, the guys in the cargo hold putting last minute things onto the plane, the girl crying. He paused for a moment, 'The girl crying? Shawn thought to himself.
He turned to the sound and found he was right there was a girl crying a few rows down from him. He felt like going, and seeing if she was alright, but then thought better of it. He was sure the girl probably didn't want to some weird bloke that had some how heard her over everything else. The truth of the matter was that he just heard everything and had just singled out the sound of her. He turned back towards the front of the plane hoping she hadn't seen him look. He was sure she was probably already feeling a bit embarrassed any way for crying. Clutching the armrest a bit he leaned back in his seat praying for the flight attendant to start her bit about his seat being a flotation device. How the monotone voice would be a God send right now, his leg begs to fidget shaking up and down. The was a man in first class laughing obnoxiously about a stupid joke he had just cracked, he almost made Shawn want to plug his ears but he didn't want to embarrass himself. He used to the do that allot when he was in school as a child and was usually laughed at for it. So he just would end up throwing his desk across the room and the teacher would of course send him to the headmaster's office. For most students that would have been devastating, but for Shawn it was a relief to go to the office. The sounds of a keyboard and the occasional ringing of a phone was much more pleasant than the sounds of almost thirty children being disruptive. He could feel himself beginning to tense even more, 'Just breath Shawn, and try not to listen to it all.' he told himself. So he decided to concentrate on the humming of the plane itself, using the sounds much like he did with his music. He started to pick out a rhythm into he sounds and started drumming it out on the armrest. Shawn began to feel his heart rate slow, and the calm began to set in. He let out a heavy breath of relief as he continued his wait for the plane to take off.
He turned to the sound and found he was right there was a girl crying a few rows down from him. He felt like going, and seeing if she was alright, but then thought better of it. He was sure the girl probably didn't want to some weird bloke that had some how heard her over everything else. The truth of the matter was that he just heard everything and had just singled out the sound of her. He turned back towards the front of the plane hoping she hadn't seen him look. He was sure she was probably already feeling a bit embarrassed any way for crying. Clutching the armrest a bit he leaned back in his seat praying for the flight attendant to start her bit about his seat being a flotation device. How the monotone voice would be a God send right now, his leg begs to fidget shaking up and down. The was a man in first class laughing obnoxiously about a stupid joke he had just cracked, he almost made Shawn want to plug his ears but he didn't want to embarrass himself. He used to the do that allot when he was in school as a child and was usually laughed at for it. So he just would end up throwing his desk across the room and the teacher would of course send him to the headmaster's office. For most students that would have been devastating, but for Shawn it was a relief to go to the office. The sounds of a keyboard and the occasional ringing of a phone was much more pleasant than the sounds of almost thirty children being disruptive. He could feel himself beginning to tense even more, 'Just breath Shawn, and try not to listen to it all.' he told himself. So he decided to concentrate on the humming of the plane itself, using the sounds much like he did with his music. He started to pick out a rhythm into he sounds and started drumming it out on the armrest. Shawn began to feel his heart rate slow, and the calm began to set in. He let out a heavy breath of relief as he continued his wait for the plane to take off.
S C A R
It was early in the morning, at least 3am. The bar still had it's low life stragglers slouched over the bar, half passed out from the over consumption of alcohol. But it didn't really bother her, she was used to it. These were the regulars. Over in the far corner was the 50+ year old women, obviously widowed, drowning her feelings in her bottle of Captain. She was a sweet woman though, always tipped well. Then there was the two older gentlemen that liked their scotch while they played a single game of chess for hours. But the one that always bothered her was Chuck. He's like 30, and thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread. Every single night he comes in here, and every night he is always attempting to get Scar to come home with him. So to no surprise, he was back again tonight.
Sitting at the far left side of the bar, he wiggles his sausage of an index finger towards her. With a heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, Scar reluctantly walked over to him. "The usual?" She said in a cold, monotonic voice.
"You know it doll face." He then winked his baby blues at her as she turned around to make his drink. Honestly, Scar did find him attractive. 6'4", brunette, muscular and eyes to die for. In another life maybe she would leave with him... but it wasn't, and she knew that love, lust or whatever that would be... well that wasn't in the cards. As she turned around to hand him his drink, everything changed. Chuck, well, Chuck was gone. In his place was an envelope. Crisp and cleanly folded, if she knew any better she wouldn't have even considered that it was from Chuck, let alone that he actually left it for her. But she did. Quickly before anyone could see, she snatched it up and shoved it into the back pocket of her old tattered jeans.
It was nearly 5am when the bar was finally closed and Scar made her way outside. Sitting there, lonely on the side of the road was her red Triumph Thruxton. Slowly walking over to it she thumbed over the now wrinkled envelope. She glanced down at the crumpled envelope for what seemed like forever before she set her helmet down on the seat of her bike, and then began to break the seal.
Was this a joke? Was he threatening her if she didn't go out with him? Or was that even from Chuck? The questions raced through her head, but more importantly so did the possible answers. Scar paced around furiously, trying to figure out of the meaning of all this. Until then it hit her. Like 5 ton brick wall right in the face. She froze mid step, only letting her gaze move down to once again glance over the page. Her hand began to tremble nearly causing her to drop the page. Does whoever gave her this know? Scar quickly crumpled up the invitation in her hand, then let it fall to the ground. She wasn't gone to stand by idly to threats, if that's what it was. She should leave town, or the country.
Scar rushed over to her bike, mounting it as she put on the helmet and snapped the chin strap. Turning on the Triumph before flipping up the kick stand with her right foot, Scar went to go put the car in motion, but stopped to look back towards the letter that was now rolling away down the street. She hesitated there for a minute, maybe she should go... maybe this could give her the answers she has so long searched for. With a sigh, Scar extended her right hand out in the direction of the running away note, and in a swift movement the crumpled letter changed course and flew directly into her palm. She then stuffed the note into the pocket of her leather jacket, pulled down the visor on her helmet, then drove off.
Scar was a little early, she usually was pretty punctual so it wasn't any surprise that she was about 10 minutes early. She slowly walked up the steps to the entrance. It hadn't even crossed her mind until she was walking up the stairs to the door that she might be extremely under dressed. Leather jacket, steal toed boots and ripped jeans were hardly "threatening invitation" worthy, but it was too late now. She did a double take when she saw the towering man in the entrance. She gulped at the sight of him. When asked for her cell phone, Scar rose her hands in a innocent manner, "Sorry Jeeves, don't have one."
She slowly made her way into the large entrance room. Already sitting there was a gentleman (Rob) looking like he could be of the same age as her. She made her way to the seat to the right of him, hanging her helmet on the corner of the back of the chair before taking a seat. She then glanced over at the man from beneath her messy auburn curls. "You weren't the one who gave me the invitation.... were you?" She couldn't help but chuckle softly. She knew he wasn't, but she really wasn't very good at breaking the ice.
It was early in the morning, at least 3am. The bar still had it's low life stragglers slouched over the bar, half passed out from the over consumption of alcohol. But it didn't really bother her, she was used to it. These were the regulars. Over in the far corner was the 50+ year old women, obviously widowed, drowning her feelings in her bottle of Captain. She was a sweet woman though, always tipped well. Then there was the two older gentlemen that liked their scotch while they played a single game of chess for hours. But the one that always bothered her was Chuck. He's like 30, and thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread. Every single night he comes in here, and every night he is always attempting to get Scar to come home with him. So to no surprise, he was back again tonight.
Sitting at the far left side of the bar, he wiggles his sausage of an index finger towards her. With a heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, Scar reluctantly walked over to him. "The usual?" She said in a cold, monotonic voice.
"You know it doll face." He then winked his baby blues at her as she turned around to make his drink. Honestly, Scar did find him attractive. 6'4", brunette, muscular and eyes to die for. In another life maybe she would leave with him... but it wasn't, and she knew that love, lust or whatever that would be... well that wasn't in the cards. As she turned around to hand him his drink, everything changed. Chuck, well, Chuck was gone. In his place was an envelope. Crisp and cleanly folded, if she knew any better she wouldn't have even considered that it was from Chuck, let alone that he actually left it for her. But she did. Quickly before anyone could see, she snatched it up and shoved it into the back pocket of her old tattered jeans.
It was nearly 5am when the bar was finally closed and Scar made her way outside. Sitting there, lonely on the side of the road was her red Triumph Thruxton. Slowly walking over to it she thumbed over the now wrinkled envelope. She glanced down at the crumpled envelope for what seemed like forever before she set her helmet down on the seat of her bike, and then began to break the seal.
Was this a joke? Was he threatening her if she didn't go out with him? Or was that even from Chuck? The questions raced through her head, but more importantly so did the possible answers. Scar paced around furiously, trying to figure out of the meaning of all this. Until then it hit her. Like 5 ton brick wall right in the face. She froze mid step, only letting her gaze move down to once again glance over the page. Her hand began to tremble nearly causing her to drop the page. Does whoever gave her this know? Scar quickly crumpled up the invitation in her hand, then let it fall to the ground. She wasn't gone to stand by idly to threats, if that's what it was. She should leave town, or the country.
Scar rushed over to her bike, mounting it as she put on the helmet and snapped the chin strap. Turning on the Triumph before flipping up the kick stand with her right foot, Scar went to go put the car in motion, but stopped to look back towards the letter that was now rolling away down the street. She hesitated there for a minute, maybe she should go... maybe this could give her the answers she has so long searched for. With a sigh, Scar extended her right hand out in the direction of the running away note, and in a swift movement the crumpled letter changed course and flew directly into her palm. She then stuffed the note into the pocket of her leather jacket, pulled down the visor on her helmet, then drove off.
Scar was a little early, she usually was pretty punctual so it wasn't any surprise that she was about 10 minutes early. She slowly walked up the steps to the entrance. It hadn't even crossed her mind until she was walking up the stairs to the door that she might be extremely under dressed. Leather jacket, steal toed boots and ripped jeans were hardly "threatening invitation" worthy, but it was too late now. She did a double take when she saw the towering man in the entrance. She gulped at the sight of him. When asked for her cell phone, Scar rose her hands in a innocent manner, "Sorry Jeeves, don't have one."
She slowly made her way into the large entrance room. Already sitting there was a gentleman (Rob) looking like he could be of the same age as her. She made her way to the seat to the right of him, hanging her helmet on the corner of the back of the chair before taking a seat. She then glanced over at the man from beneath her messy auburn curls. "You weren't the one who gave me the invitation.... were you?" She couldn't help but chuckle softly. She knew he wasn't, but she really wasn't very good at breaking the ice.
Rob Dunbar
What did this all mean?
Rob was still examining the file, trying to find more meaning within it. Why were they being hunted by someone? Who was doing this? Who invited them here? Was his uncanny ability having to do with any of this? His mind was going a million questions a minute and it wasn't stopping. He felt that part of that had to deal with the uncomfortable feeling in his gut, which stemmed from being in this house. It was way too fancy for his taste. It tensed him up and stressed him out. He gripped the bow staff tighter.
Rob was so lost in his own suspense of what was going to happen tonight, he completely missed the auburn-haired girl walking in to the entrance. He continued to glance through the file as she sat down to his right, placing her motorcycle helmet on the corner of the back of the chair.
"You weren't the one who gave me the invitation...were you?"
The sudden words cut through his thoughts like a knife and he jumped. Turning instinctively to the right, he felt his muscles relax a bit, a practice that sparring drilled into his body. He would be ready for an attac-.
That thought flew out the window when he registered the question and finally noticed the girl. She was very pretty, he decided. She looked like his age, and had messy auburn hair with the most intoxicating set of eyes he'd seen in a while. A smooth sexy body, he felt the testosterone in him begin to rise. Settle down, he told himself. He wasn't here to make out or anything like that. He was here for answers.
He lifted the invitation out of the flyer. "Got the same one," he told her as he recalled information about her. This was Scar, he believed. The only thing he could easily dig up about her was a news story about Scar's boyfriend who died due to mysterious causes.
Tragic...
The rest of her was hard to find, but from piecing together bits and pieces, he gathered that she was never adopted, constantly rejected by foster parent after foster parent. She simply lived this way until she could live on her own.
"I'm Rob," he said extending his hand to shake hers. "A simple man with a simple plan. Who are you?" Even though he knew this information already, it would probably be best if she said it to him, just in case he accidentally blurted it out and she thought of him as weird. He didn't trust any of these people, however.
Dialog Color: #0020C2
The night air was filled with countless numbers of sound waves, ranging from the shrill of a police siren to the obnoxious sound of a beeping horn. Many would consider these sounds just noise but others would call it a beautiful symphony. To be honest Leo really didn't care, i was just more for him to analyze. He brushed his fingers through his hair, still trying to piece together what was going on in The City That Never Sleeps. This Southern Utah boy had never imagined that he would be sitting on a sidewalk bench in the dark scoping out a mysterious building that he was suppose to enter to learn more about the shady file and note that he had found in his range bag. A range bag that he took out from his gun safe once a week to train with his firearms. How it got there was something that Leo was trying to figure out. Call Leo cautious but he wasn't about to just go somewhere because a note told him to. No, his ROTC training kicked in, making Leo analyze and asses this anomaly.
He checked the names, the address and anything else that could help him. All he learned was that the other names had all seemed to be prodigies in what they did. All of which ranged from math skills to hand-eye coordination abilities. Which made Leo wonder if these others had the weird powers that he had struggled to keep hidden. His curiosity got the best of him as Leo booked a flight to New York City under the guise of a summer vacation. Leo took the file and continued to study the contents. He didn't want any surprises as he went after his personal mission.
Leo's studies had paid off as he started noticing some of the names on the list showing up at the address. First was a guy that looked like he was taking a few things, Leo recognized him as Greg. Shortly after Ron showed up and entered the building. Finally a tough looking little girl pulled up on her Triumph and entered. Leo thought that this girl definitely fit her name, Scar. Leo became a little impatient and decided to enter the building. The other three obviously had no clue as to what was going on either, they didn't really pose a threat. Leo made his way across the dark street and entered the front door.
The others already seemed to be talking and introducing themselves. Leo watched all of these individuals and said,"I heard there was a party!" He raised the file that he was studying, trying to use humor to test out what he was seeing.
Gregory watched the newcomers enter one at a time with half-hearted interest. So far nothing but kids, the same age as him, obviously, but kids. He had no qualms about setting himself above the others in terms of maturity and overall capability, he had grown up secure in his almost godlike ability, but now that he thought about it, he had no idea what other... Skills his fellow test subjects may be in possession of. For all he knew they had the same regenerative abilities as he did, for all he knew they didnt, perhaps they all possessed unique powers personal to them.
And maybe he was the only one, superior to them in every way.
The first boy to arrive looked far too young to be nineteen, his hair a domestic bob and body that of a boy who loved his sport. This was also encouraged by the bo-staff he carried by his side, as if it were possible to mistake such a thing for a "walking stick". Gregory himself still possessed his gun and blade, the man at the door clearly unperturbed by their presence, or just very unobservant, he suspected the former. Gregory said nothing and neither did the boy, they simply sat in awkward silence around the long table that sat in the large room. If the boy was any more clued in to what was going on that Gregory, he didn't show it, the stillness of the room simply adding to the tense pressure of the room. With a pop that glorious bubble of silence was broken as the next guest entered the room. A girl, pretty, well built, her ripped jeans and jacket appealing to Gregorys sensibilities of attire and style, she was confident, and Gregory liked that, he couldn't abide weak willed and dispassionate lovers.
Gregory watched her stride across the room before sitting down next to the boy, her motorcycle helmet hung over the backrest of her seat as she launched straight into conversation.
"You weren't the one who gave me the invitation...were you?" She asked with a wry smile, seeming to startle the inept kid and he struggled to compose a response.
"Got the same one," He managed, holding up the invitation that sat by the small stack of files he had brought with him, "Im Rob, a simple man with a simple plan. Who are you?" He said, more confidently, holding out a hand.
Gregorys mouth twitched in amusement, he had no idea who this 'Rob' was or what abilities he might possess, but already deemed him not worthy of his time or effort. The boy simply wasn't interesting enough to warrant Gregorys precious time and energy, the girl however, was an entirely different matter.
Before the girl could respond another boy entered the hall, his physique was larger than that of the other boy, more muscled and athletic, his hair cropped short and skin tanned, "I heard there was a party!" He cried, all charismatic smiles and confidence. Gregory liked this boy infinitely more than the first.
"No Party," Gregory responded, "Not yet at least, just a really, really awkward family reunion." He rose from his chair and walked over to the newcomer, "I'm Gregory, though judging by the impressive files the lot of you brought you already knew that," He extended a hand in greeting, accompanied by his wry smile, "Where's your sense of adventure?"
And maybe he was the only one, superior to them in every way.
The first boy to arrive looked far too young to be nineteen, his hair a domestic bob and body that of a boy who loved his sport. This was also encouraged by the bo-staff he carried by his side, as if it were possible to mistake such a thing for a "walking stick". Gregory himself still possessed his gun and blade, the man at the door clearly unperturbed by their presence, or just very unobservant, he suspected the former. Gregory said nothing and neither did the boy, they simply sat in awkward silence around the long table that sat in the large room. If the boy was any more clued in to what was going on that Gregory, he didn't show it, the stillness of the room simply adding to the tense pressure of the room. With a pop that glorious bubble of silence was broken as the next guest entered the room. A girl, pretty, well built, her ripped jeans and jacket appealing to Gregorys sensibilities of attire and style, she was confident, and Gregory liked that, he couldn't abide weak willed and dispassionate lovers.
Gregory watched her stride across the room before sitting down next to the boy, her motorcycle helmet hung over the backrest of her seat as she launched straight into conversation.
"You weren't the one who gave me the invitation...were you?" She asked with a wry smile, seeming to startle the inept kid and he struggled to compose a response.
"Got the same one," He managed, holding up the invitation that sat by the small stack of files he had brought with him, "Im Rob, a simple man with a simple plan. Who are you?" He said, more confidently, holding out a hand.
Gregorys mouth twitched in amusement, he had no idea who this 'Rob' was or what abilities he might possess, but already deemed him not worthy of his time or effort. The boy simply wasn't interesting enough to warrant Gregorys precious time and energy, the girl however, was an entirely different matter.
Before the girl could respond another boy entered the hall, his physique was larger than that of the other boy, more muscled and athletic, his hair cropped short and skin tanned, "I heard there was a party!" He cried, all charismatic smiles and confidence. Gregory liked this boy infinitely more than the first.
"No Party," Gregory responded, "Not yet at least, just a really, really awkward family reunion." He rose from his chair and walked over to the newcomer, "I'm Gregory, though judging by the impressive files the lot of you brought you already knew that," He extended a hand in greeting, accompanied by his wry smile, "Where's your sense of adventure?"
After perhaps one of the longest flights ever, and most anxious nights she'd ever spent at a hotel, then a day filled with last minute research on the various names she'd found in her file, Amelia finally arrived at the location indicated in the letter. She'd dropped her phone off without complaint, she hadn't figured they'd be allowed to keep it inside, then followed the by who'd asked about a party into the main room.
Brushing her hair back, she looked around uneasily. There were a few others. Most were prodigies, some were considered less so. The boy right there who'd introduced himself as Gregory, she knew for a fact was on the LAPD watch list, noted as a drug dealer. Others were noted in less illegal ways. But, she supposed this Gregory fellow was right about one thing. Based on the files' information, they were the closest thing each other had to a biological family. What worried her though, wasn't that they were test tube babies as some might say, but instead the abilities they had. She knew what she had, but she didn't know about anyone else, and was incredibly wary when it came to them. After all, this entire situation called for caution.
So she sat down, leaning back as she listened to them talk. She hadn't brought the files along with her, instead just carrying a small notebook she'd half filled with notes. The last two days she'd spent jotting down everything she could find on the theories and methods behind what the files claimed these scientists did, and she still felt like she was missing something big. Hopefully, the people in charge here would fill those gaps.
Brushing her hair back, she looked around uneasily. There were a few others. Most were prodigies, some were considered less so. The boy right there who'd introduced himself as Gregory, she knew for a fact was on the LAPD watch list, noted as a drug dealer. Others were noted in less illegal ways. But, she supposed this Gregory fellow was right about one thing. Based on the files' information, they were the closest thing each other had to a biological family. What worried her though, wasn't that they were test tube babies as some might say, but instead the abilities they had. She knew what she had, but she didn't know about anyone else, and was incredibly wary when it came to them. After all, this entire situation called for caution.
So she sat down, leaning back as she listened to them talk. She hadn't brought the files along with her, instead just carrying a small notebook she'd half filled with notes. The last two days she'd spent jotting down everything she could find on the theories and methods behind what the files claimed these scientists did, and she still felt like she was missing something big. Hopefully, the people in charge here would fill those gaps.
“So, this is New York, huh?” Alex stepped out of the cab, swinging his crutch around to be placed firmly beneath his armpit. “Fascinating.” It wasn’t so different from home, really. A few more cars, a little louder, a little more likely to be mugged on your way back, nothing special. The driver stuck his head out the window, ignoring Alex’s comment as thoroughly as he’d ignored the teen himself on the two hour drive there.
Which had been an easier feat than usual, considering he was concentrating on reviewing the files in the manila folder for about half the time.
“Cash or card.” The driver flatly intoned, extending a hand.
Alex clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Look dude, I… uh, can’t do this right now, 'kay?” He rocked back and forth on his heels. The cost of the ride would drain him dry of anything he brought, and he wasn’t ready to part with three months of work just yet. “Be a friend, huh? Don’t charge me.” A wide smile accompanied the statement.
Scowling, the driver pointed a vicious finger at Alex. “I should have made you pay up front. Money now, or --”
“Tip! A tip, I’ll tip nicely.” He spread his hands apart, digging around for the beat up wallet in his pocket. “Here. Thirty bucks, and you can even keep the nickels with it. Take it, and don’t ask me for any more, okay?” Sliding the bills into the cabbie’s outstretched palm, he then backed up as the taxi rolled away.
Hmm. So, it was real, this whole talent thing, not just a result of an overactive ego. Alex settled his pack on his shoulder, glancing at the mansion at the end of the road. He’d figured it was probably better not to give the guy the exact address he was going to, in case he got a hold of what Alex had done to him. But really, what was he supposed to do? Walk into a possible explosive situation as a beggar?
Grunting, he made his way onto the sidewalk, fully aware that he was keeping the strangeness of the situation in the back of his head. Genetic test tube babies, all gathering in one spot, each one as possibly armed as he was? If that didn’t scream trap, well. It seemed like a pretty clever ploy to get rid of all of ‘em at once, whoever these other guys were. But seeing as there were zero other choices, unless he wanted to play Batman and climb through the windows, here it went.
Though, it wouldn’t be a too terrible place to die, he concluded as he came up the steps, taking them one at a time. His lame leg brushed the ground as he maneuvered up them, raising an eyebrow at the place as a whole. Whoever it was that was bringing them here, they definitely weren’t short on funds.
Or guards, he thought, as he approached the first man. “Mm, got it in here somewhere,” He said, snapping his fingers and pulling the folder out. “Yup. In clean black and white.” The small flip phone he owned was handed over alongside it, which cheerily assured Alex that he was utterly doomed in here. No police, no one he knew, and a mansion big enough to make sure that no one would ever hear you scream. He snorted, shaking his head and limping towards the direction of the grand entrance room. If they all didn’t end up like the Leon kid he read about, he’d be surprised.
Dude with a staff, dude with a weird haircut, girl who probably would have beat him up in grade school, dude who looked kind of goth from an angle -- he counted them off, deciding to not try and give their names a shot on his own. “Family reunion, right.” Alex remarked as he walked in, leaning against his crutch and giving everyone who would meet his eyes a lopsided grin and a half wave. “At least I don’t have to pretend to know anyone here at this one. God, that party was a nightmare. Which, speaking of, I’m Alex, and I suggest we decide to not just wait here like sitting ducks for whoever organized this gathering.” He cheerfully said. “Seeing as everyone here is present because we're a band of weirdos, I assume you all have some kind of trick up your sleeve?"
Which had been an easier feat than usual, considering he was concentrating on reviewing the files in the manila folder for about half the time.
“Cash or card.” The driver flatly intoned, extending a hand.
Alex clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Look dude, I… uh, can’t do this right now, 'kay?” He rocked back and forth on his heels. The cost of the ride would drain him dry of anything he brought, and he wasn’t ready to part with three months of work just yet. “Be a friend, huh? Don’t charge me.” A wide smile accompanied the statement.
Scowling, the driver pointed a vicious finger at Alex. “I should have made you pay up front. Money now, or --”
“Tip! A tip, I’ll tip nicely.” He spread his hands apart, digging around for the beat up wallet in his pocket. “Here. Thirty bucks, and you can even keep the nickels with it. Take it, and don’t ask me for any more, okay?” Sliding the bills into the cabbie’s outstretched palm, he then backed up as the taxi rolled away.
Hmm. So, it was real, this whole talent thing, not just a result of an overactive ego. Alex settled his pack on his shoulder, glancing at the mansion at the end of the road. He’d figured it was probably better not to give the guy the exact address he was going to, in case he got a hold of what Alex had done to him. But really, what was he supposed to do? Walk into a possible explosive situation as a beggar?
Grunting, he made his way onto the sidewalk, fully aware that he was keeping the strangeness of the situation in the back of his head. Genetic test tube babies, all gathering in one spot, each one as possibly armed as he was? If that didn’t scream trap, well. It seemed like a pretty clever ploy to get rid of all of ‘em at once, whoever these other guys were. But seeing as there were zero other choices, unless he wanted to play Batman and climb through the windows, here it went.
Though, it wouldn’t be a too terrible place to die, he concluded as he came up the steps, taking them one at a time. His lame leg brushed the ground as he maneuvered up them, raising an eyebrow at the place as a whole. Whoever it was that was bringing them here, they definitely weren’t short on funds.
Or guards, he thought, as he approached the first man. “Mm, got it in here somewhere,” He said, snapping his fingers and pulling the folder out. “Yup. In clean black and white.” The small flip phone he owned was handed over alongside it, which cheerily assured Alex that he was utterly doomed in here. No police, no one he knew, and a mansion big enough to make sure that no one would ever hear you scream. He snorted, shaking his head and limping towards the direction of the grand entrance room. If they all didn’t end up like the Leon kid he read about, he’d be surprised.
Dude with a staff, dude with a weird haircut, girl who probably would have beat him up in grade school, dude who looked kind of goth from an angle -- he counted them off, deciding to not try and give their names a shot on his own. “Family reunion, right.” Alex remarked as he walked in, leaning against his crutch and giving everyone who would meet his eyes a lopsided grin and a half wave. “At least I don’t have to pretend to know anyone here at this one. God, that party was a nightmare. Which, speaking of, I’m Alex, and I suggest we decide to not just wait here like sitting ducks for whoever organized this gathering.” He cheerfully said. “Seeing as everyone here is present because we're a band of weirdos, I assume you all have some kind of trick up your sleeve?"
S C A R
Scar looked over Rob in a studying manner, but with a slight smirk as he spoke and introduce himself. She didn't know anything about him... Well she didn't know anything about any of them. But she had a feeling that he knew something about her, she could see it in her eyes. With a soft chuckle she removed her leather racing gloves, shoving them into her pockets before extending her delicate right hand towards him. Scar was curious as to how much he knew if anything. Currently her touch wouldn't harm a fly, she purposefully hasn't used since deciding to come to this "meeting"... she couldn't live with herself if she harmed someone. "I'm Scar." She then leaned in towards him a little, as to whisper so only he could hear. "But we both know you already knew that... possibly more." She grinned in a teasing manner as she leaned back in the chair and crossed her slender legs.
Scar practically twitched at the man walking in talking about parties. She sighed softly while reaching her hand up to brush back her messy auburn waves. Upon glancing around the room she noticed the other male that had been sitting there quietly. She raised a slender brow in his direction when she noticed that he was looking at her. She didn't really know what to say. She wasn't good at introductions or small talk... or anything really. She managed to smile softly in his direction before leaning forward so she could remove her leather jacket. Once having removed her jacket it was now visible that her left arm was adorned in a full length tattoo sleeve, intricate and by the looks of it very expensive.
She quickly started losing count of everyone who entered the room but it started to make her uneasy. She began to shift in her seat restlessly as she tried to put together loose ends in her mind... Who are all these people? And why do they all look my age? The questions raced through her head. With a heavy sigh, Scar rested her head in her palms, her overthinking giving her a migraine. But once she heard Alex pipe up about being "weirdos" and wanting to know everyone's secrets or what have you... Scar froze. She slowly peered up between her fingers, fear evident in her eyes. If anything, now she wishes she could just leave.
Scar looked over Rob in a studying manner, but with a slight smirk as he spoke and introduce himself. She didn't know anything about him... Well she didn't know anything about any of them. But she had a feeling that he knew something about her, she could see it in her eyes. With a soft chuckle she removed her leather racing gloves, shoving them into her pockets before extending her delicate right hand towards him. Scar was curious as to how much he knew if anything. Currently her touch wouldn't harm a fly, she purposefully hasn't used since deciding to come to this "meeting"... she couldn't live with herself if she harmed someone. "I'm Scar." She then leaned in towards him a little, as to whisper so only he could hear. "But we both know you already knew that... possibly more." She grinned in a teasing manner as she leaned back in the chair and crossed her slender legs.
Scar practically twitched at the man walking in talking about parties. She sighed softly while reaching her hand up to brush back her messy auburn waves. Upon glancing around the room she noticed the other male that had been sitting there quietly. She raised a slender brow in his direction when she noticed that he was looking at her. She didn't really know what to say. She wasn't good at introductions or small talk... or anything really. She managed to smile softly in his direction before leaning forward so she could remove her leather jacket. Once having removed her jacket it was now visible that her left arm was adorned in a full length tattoo sleeve, intricate and by the looks of it very expensive.
She quickly started losing count of everyone who entered the room but it started to make her uneasy. She began to shift in her seat restlessly as she tried to put together loose ends in her mind... Who are all these people? And why do they all look my age? The questions raced through her head. With a heavy sigh, Scar rested her head in her palms, her overthinking giving her a migraine. But once she heard Alex pipe up about being "weirdos" and wanting to know everyone's secrets or what have you... Scar froze. She slowly peered up between her fingers, fear evident in her eyes. If anything, now she wishes she could just leave.
Rob Dunbar
Before she could respond with anything, he heard a loud and cocky voice. "I heard there was a party!"
Turning around, he found the one called Leo jumping up and down with his file, a trait he never expected to see from a potential military operative. Or at least, that's what he dug up. He had many achievements to prove how battle ready he was, possibly the most buff out of the whole group. I swear to God, Rob thought, if he takes off his shirt...
As it turned out, Gregory appeared to show instant satisfaction to Leo's outburst, immediately introducing himself. So Gregory liked excitement, Rob thought. That can be useful to know later...
"Family reunion right?"
And then there's this asshole.
Rob was starting to become irritated by the behavior of everyone around him, specifically Leo and this newcomer, whom he couldn't get the name of right away. “At least I don’t have to pretend to know anyone here at this one. God, that party was a nightmare. Which, speaking of, I’m Alex, and I suggest we decide to not just wait here like sitting ducks for whoever organized this gathering.”
Rob immediately thought this guy talked too much. While he remembered Alex as the cripple, Alex still held a charisma around him that drew his fascination. He couldn't help it. This guy probably ran his mouth off so many times, he probably had spares somewhere. However, he still couldn't help but like him a little bit.
“Seeing as everyone here is present because we're a band of weirdos, I assume you all have some kind of trick up your sleeve?"
That confirmed it, Ron realized. They all had special abilities. He'd bet his Osage on it.
Rob panned the room, glancing at each individual currently present, trying to guess their abilities. Gregory had an aura that could be related to Crank, but his exterior demeanor was something else. Almost a thrill seeker. Ron decided that he was an extreme thrill seeker because it meant he could feel something. Ron pictured him a Wolverine-like person, who probably had incredible healing.
Scar was practically unreadable, hiding her actual personality beneath that tough as nails exterior. He had a theory that it was something lethal, considering what had happened to her boyfriend. But that was a touchy subject, one he would probably not bring up around her.
Leo was military ready. Ron guessed superhuman strength or endurance, maybe even a heightened level of testosterone. He chuckled in his mind at the thought of a super swol dude like Leo with a tiny hubby's chubby.
Moving on to Alex, it was clear he had the power of influence. His charm, his aura, his exterior, his smile revealed that in every way. Too much glam.
He finally rested eyes on the red-head in the chair, a girl who sneaked in under their noses. She appeared very intelligent, the only one carrying a notebook and not a file. Smart but wanted to stay out of the picture. That sounded like invisibility to him.
And, of course, Rob with his extreme accuracy and tracking skills. He felt outclassed. He liked that feeling of being the underdog. It gave him more satisfaction when he won.
"Brilliant idea, Alex," Rob leaned forward in his chair, resting his head between his hands that were resting on the vertically positioned bow staff. "You can go first, since you seem eager to grab all of our attention. Why don't you tell us your tricks and gimmicks? He was poking fun at the fact that he, possibly the rest of the group as well, knew his gimmicks already.
She didn't pale, but she paused, knowing that they all likely had some ability. It wasn't in the report they'd received, but it was easy enough to deduct given her own situation. No, the real issue was revealing those abilities. While they might or might not have ended up deciding to share it with each other, the fact was they were in a stranger's home- most likely one of the scientists. Now, she wasn't sure who'd want to share anything with them, though it was entirely likely that the scientists might have already known.
She didn't feel entirely comfortable about that Alex fellow- he made her feel more uneasy than anything else. His smile initially made her feel at ease, and she had a sense she wanted to like him more than anything, but the moment she'd looked away she felt more uneasy about him than ever, though the underlying desire to like him still remained. His entire aura seemed to have a certain amount of influence, and she was more wary than ever with him in the room.
Still, Amelia didn't move, watching silently as the conversation progressed, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. Normally, she'd have jumped right into the situation, being a cheerful social type of person, but her anxiety kept her quiet and reserved, with no desire to get up or do anything but listen right now, which it seemed no one was going to mind her doing. She jotted down notes about her observations on Alex on one of the pages, then shut her notebook again, watching them once more.
She didn't feel entirely comfortable about that Alex fellow- he made her feel more uneasy than anything else. His smile initially made her feel at ease, and she had a sense she wanted to like him more than anything, but the moment she'd looked away she felt more uneasy about him than ever, though the underlying desire to like him still remained. His entire aura seemed to have a certain amount of influence, and she was more wary than ever with him in the room.
Still, Amelia didn't move, watching silently as the conversation progressed, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. Normally, she'd have jumped right into the situation, being a cheerful social type of person, but her anxiety kept her quiet and reserved, with no desire to get up or do anything but listen right now, which it seemed no one was going to mind her doing. She jotted down notes about her observations on Alex on one of the pages, then shut her notebook again, watching them once more.
"Brilliant idea, Alex," The one called Rob said, leaning on his staff, in an almost accusatory manner, as if this, Alex fellow had some benefit to them all being here besides the obvious. Gregory liked the crippled boy so far, he had an energy and charisma about him that he found appealing, though Gregorys deep ingrained arrogance prevented him from viewing the boy with anything more than a equal standing with him. Leo had the clear confidence of a man who was capable and skilled, and knew he could get what he wanted by working for it, Gregory appreciated that, having dragged himself up through what he would describe as hard work to get where he was today.
"You can go first, since you seem eager to grab all of our attention. Why don't you tell us your tricks and gimmicks?" Rob said, clearly trying to regain control of a situation he realised Alex had easily wrestled from him.
"Hold it just a minute there Boy Wonder," Gregory said, holding up a hand before Alex had the chance to respond, "If I remember correctly, one of us here is potentially the one who killed our estranged brother. Now if you don't mind, since your oh so eager to know everyone else's skills, I think it is only polite you go first."
He resumed his seat at the end of the table, his eyes carefully watching Rob with a predators smile, "But then again, you probably already know everyone elses dont you? You've done your homework, and you know our histories, you have been the good little detective, havnt you Boy Wonder? So just so that we are all on the same page here with what you know, I think its only fair that you share the info in that little file you got their with the rest of the family."
Gregory smirked, he had wondered what meeting his 'family' would be like, and how it would affect him, it was pleasing to note that it did not seem to change much.
He was as much of an arrogant dick as usual.
"You can go first, since you seem eager to grab all of our attention. Why don't you tell us your tricks and gimmicks?" Rob said, clearly trying to regain control of a situation he realised Alex had easily wrestled from him.
"Hold it just a minute there Boy Wonder," Gregory said, holding up a hand before Alex had the chance to respond, "If I remember correctly, one of us here is potentially the one who killed our estranged brother. Now if you don't mind, since your oh so eager to know everyone else's skills, I think it is only polite you go first."
He resumed his seat at the end of the table, his eyes carefully watching Rob with a predators smile, "But then again, you probably already know everyone elses dont you? You've done your homework, and you know our histories, you have been the good little detective, havnt you Boy Wonder? So just so that we are all on the same page here with what you know, I think its only fair that you share the info in that little file you got their with the rest of the family."
Gregory smirked, he had wondered what meeting his 'family' would be like, and how it would affect him, it was pleasing to note that it did not seem to change much.
He was as much of an arrogant dick as usual.
The rest of the flight was rather uneventful, as soon as the plane was in the air, Shawn turned his phone back on and buried his head in music once again. It was a long flight but, he managed not to go insane. Jet lagged, and tired the flight landed in New York. The airport was crazy, and the cab driver he managed to get was just as nuts. Shawn had never seen his life flash before his eyes but with the maniac behind the wheel he felt like he might have seen his life and several other past lives go by. Needless to say, he was glad when the cab stopped and he was able to be back on solid ground and not flying through traffic. After paying the cabbie, more than what he deserved in Shawn's opinion. He took in the sight of the building where his letter had directed him. A drawn out whistle escaped his mouth.
"Maaaan someone has some cash I'd wager... would you look at this place. Posh..." he mumbled and continued looking the place over.
Till he noticed the guy out front, noting the man's size he looked surprised. Walking up to him the man just stared him down and held out his hand asking Shawn for his invitation. Now Shawn being like he was didn't think much.
"An invitation? Oh! You mean that letter, I've got it here somewhere just hold on."
He began to reach into all of his pockets, giving the guy a nervous smile. The large man looked like he was growing impatient when Shawn finally pulled out the paper. Handing the crumpled paper over, the man at the door looked over it.
"Keep the change mate." Shawn said as he playfully patted the guy on the shoulder.
The man gave an underwhelmed look, and then asked for Shawn's cellphone. Shawn blinked a couple of times.
"Are you sure? Uhhhh... I kind of need it." Shawn said nervously.
Not that he was worried about not having a phone, but more that the phone had all of his music on it. The man then gave him the ultimatum that he turn over the phone or turn around and leave. Not wanting to tempt fate and risk calling another cab, and the fact this place definitely had his curiosity peaked Shawn reluctantly handed over his phone. The man then opened the door, as he stepped through he was once again taken a back by the lavish mansion. The furnishings were old but well cared for, the lobby area was almost as magnificent as the outside. With suitcase in hand he began to glance around looking for a greeter, when he found none he went to turn around and speak to the man from before. However he was met only with a closed door, assuming he wasn't the only one considering he heard voices, Shawn just headed in the direction they were coming from.
It wasn't hard the room was just adjacent to the entrance, but for some reason Shawn felt very self conscious when he walked in. There were already several others, all he could manage was a goofy smirk. Before ultimately finding a seat and sitting down. While looking down at the floor he tried not to let his nervousness get the better of him. Last thing he needed was to have some sort of sensory overload in front of a bunch of strangers. His only question was why they were all here. Apparently they appeared to be all around the same age, what was all this about? He just hoped whomever had sent the letters showed up soon and explained everything.
"Maaaan someone has some cash I'd wager... would you look at this place. Posh..." he mumbled and continued looking the place over.
Till he noticed the guy out front, noting the man's size he looked surprised. Walking up to him the man just stared him down and held out his hand asking Shawn for his invitation. Now Shawn being like he was didn't think much.
"An invitation? Oh! You mean that letter, I've got it here somewhere just hold on."
He began to reach into all of his pockets, giving the guy a nervous smile. The large man looked like he was growing impatient when Shawn finally pulled out the paper. Handing the crumpled paper over, the man at the door looked over it.
"Keep the change mate." Shawn said as he playfully patted the guy on the shoulder.
The man gave an underwhelmed look, and then asked for Shawn's cellphone. Shawn blinked a couple of times.
"Are you sure? Uhhhh... I kind of need it." Shawn said nervously.
Not that he was worried about not having a phone, but more that the phone had all of his music on it. The man then gave him the ultimatum that he turn over the phone or turn around and leave. Not wanting to tempt fate and risk calling another cab, and the fact this place definitely had his curiosity peaked Shawn reluctantly handed over his phone. The man then opened the door, as he stepped through he was once again taken a back by the lavish mansion. The furnishings were old but well cared for, the lobby area was almost as magnificent as the outside. With suitcase in hand he began to glance around looking for a greeter, when he found none he went to turn around and speak to the man from before. However he was met only with a closed door, assuming he wasn't the only one considering he heard voices, Shawn just headed in the direction they were coming from.
It wasn't hard the room was just adjacent to the entrance, but for some reason Shawn felt very self conscious when he walked in. There were already several others, all he could manage was a goofy smirk. Before ultimately finding a seat and sitting down. While looking down at the floor he tried not to let his nervousness get the better of him. Last thing he needed was to have some sort of sensory overload in front of a bunch of strangers. His only question was why they were all here. Apparently they appeared to be all around the same age, what was all this about? He just hoped whomever had sent the letters showed up soon and explained everything.
S C A R
Scar sat there now silently and uncomfortably. She didn't like the idea of them just "playing" around with their abilities or whatever. It isn't safe. For all they know it could have been anyone of them who wants to kill the rest of us, maybe be the only special one? She didn't know, Scar was never good at trying to guess hidden motives or secrets or anything really. She just knew when something wasn't right, and this was definitely one of those moments.
When Rob spoke up she couldn't tell if it was in sarcasm or agreement but either way it definitely caught her by surprise. Then in the next moment Gregory piped up. If Scar didn't know any better, this just seemed like a "my horse is bigger than your horse argument", a battle of testosterone and having the upper hand in the room. If anything, they all probably just wanted to see who was stronger or more powerful than the other. All she knew is she didn't want to be part of this, not with strangers... especially not with strangers that are all here because there is someone out there wanting us all dead. Just seemed like a horrible idea in her opinion.
And with that Scar uncrossed her legs, pushing her hands off her knees so that she could stand up with ease. "There is wayyyyy too much testosterone in here for me." She slipped between her chair, and the seat adjacent, leaving her jacket and helmet behind as she walked towards the entrance to the room. "I need some air," She said in a hushed tone, under her breath. She walked through the foyer, looking down at the ground as she slid her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear someone on the porch talking to the guard. So, of course, she reached the door in perfect timing with the man (Shawn) outside that was trying to make his way in. And in Scar's usual clumsy manner she slammed right into the young man, causing to send herself off balance, almost falling over.
Once she shook it off, her ice blue eyes widened while she brushed back her wild auburn curls. "I am so sorry... Oh my God. Are you ok?" She looked him over, making sure he was ok. "I'm such a klutz, I'm sorry."
Scar sat there now silently and uncomfortably. She didn't like the idea of them just "playing" around with their abilities or whatever. It isn't safe. For all they know it could have been anyone of them who wants to kill the rest of us, maybe be the only special one? She didn't know, Scar was never good at trying to guess hidden motives or secrets or anything really. She just knew when something wasn't right, and this was definitely one of those moments.
When Rob spoke up she couldn't tell if it was in sarcasm or agreement but either way it definitely caught her by surprise. Then in the next moment Gregory piped up. If Scar didn't know any better, this just seemed like a "my horse is bigger than your horse argument", a battle of testosterone and having the upper hand in the room. If anything, they all probably just wanted to see who was stronger or more powerful than the other. All she knew is she didn't want to be part of this, not with strangers... especially not with strangers that are all here because there is someone out there wanting us all dead. Just seemed like a horrible idea in her opinion.
And with that Scar uncrossed her legs, pushing her hands off her knees so that she could stand up with ease. "There is wayyyyy too much testosterone in here for me." She slipped between her chair, and the seat adjacent, leaving her jacket and helmet behind as she walked towards the entrance to the room. "I need some air," She said in a hushed tone, under her breath. She walked through the foyer, looking down at the ground as she slid her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear someone on the porch talking to the guard. So, of course, she reached the door in perfect timing with the man (Shawn) outside that was trying to make his way in. And in Scar's usual clumsy manner she slammed right into the young man, causing to send herself off balance, almost falling over.
Once she shook it off, her ice blue eyes widened while she brushed back her wild auburn curls. "I am so sorry... Oh my God. Are you ok?" She looked him over, making sure he was ok. "I'm such a klutz, I'm sorry."
Dialog Color: #0020C2
The one known as Rob eyeballed Leo as he made his entrance, this guy definitely was trying to analyze Leo. Leo probably would seem very cocky and arrogant right now. But that was fine by him, its better to hide true intentions than to make it obvious. The great Sun Tzu made that a point in his book, The Art of War. The girl Scar gave Leo a uncomfortable look as he walked in, he was pretty sure she was in the same boat as Rob and his staff.
Then there was good ole Greg that surprised Leo the most. He actually greeted Leo with open arms as he introduced himself with a handshake. Another thing that Leo caught was that he introduced himself as Gregory. Most would think a man of his type would shorten his name but he didn't. These two things alone is the reason why Leo didn't trust any intel, no matter how much you study up on something you have to remember that you're reading another person's research. Its better to gain first hand experience and really know about the subject you're looking at.
"I'm Gregory, though judging by the impressive files the lot of you brought you already knew that," He extended a hand in greeting, accompanied by his wry smile, "Where's your sense of adventure?"
Leo chuckled as he accepted the handshake,"I love adventure! Just think of these files as a travel brochure or something! But anyways my name is Leo, nice to meet ya brother!" Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a quiet little redhead slip on by and sat back on her own with a notebook. Now she was studying the group as she made notes of people's actions. Which was cool by Leo, hopefully she wouldn't copy down anything embarrassing.
Leo moved to stand closer to the wall so that he can lean against it and watch the show. Another individual showed up, this one known as Alex. If people thought Leo was pretty loud and cocky then they obviously hadn't had met Alex yet. Leo smiled as the newcomer made his entrance, which automatically made Leo look at Rob to see his reaction. Long story short Rob did not look very pleased. Leo started to figure out that Rob liked to be the man in charge because of authority issues, which is fine by Leo. He wasn't here to lead anyone, sure he was here for his own agenda and if someone wanted him to lead then Leo would do it. But other than that he wasn't going to fight to be an Alpha, he was quite comfortable being the Lone Wolf.
Then the slight bickering had commenced between Rob, Alex and Greg. The whole Alpha thing going in motion. This was definitely a family reunion. There was always the family members that would butt heads with each other but yet they still loved each other. In this situation though, no one really knew one another. So that kind of made things awkward. Which made Leo chuckle.
Leo finally stood up from his leaning place on the wall and put up his hands with his palms facing out in a non-threatening gesture. He spoke,"Alright guys, let's be cool here," Leo chuckled and put his hands down,"I've got a feeling that we all are going to be working together here. So let's try to be friends! Here, I'll start off. My name is Leo Eternali, I like long walks on the beach. Not really, but I can think of one reason why Im here and its something that's made me different than most people." Leo pulled his Gerber assisted Tanto from his pocket and tossed it to Greg. Leo asked him,"Bro can you help me out? Show em what a knife does to me if I get stabbed? I know its weird but its an ice breaker right?" Leo smiled and opened up his arms.
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"Brilliant idea, Alex," Sweet, his first friend.
Alex raised an eyebrow, turning in Rob's direction.
"You can go first, since you seem eager to grab all of our attention. Why don't you tell us your tricks and gimmicks?" Rob dryly suggested.
Alex's teeth showed a bit more in his grin this time as a reply. The possibilities of things he could do to answer his challenge were endless. Everything from convincing him to moon the group to having him kneel flashed through his head before he stopped himself, deciding otherwise. First and foremost, making an enemy prior to having spent an hour in the mansion was really not ideal, especially when he still wasn't a hundred percent sure what everyone's abilities were. You could never be too careful of staff-wielding jocks these days.
It wasn't long after Alex opened his mouth to answer him that the other dude started to speak. "Hold it just a minute there Boy Wonder," The urge to smirk was ridiculously strong, but he held off anyways. "If I remember correctly, one of us here is potentially the one who killed our estranged brother. Now if you don't mind, since your oh so eager to know everyone else's skills, I think it is only polite you go first." Jeez, this guy was a shark, wasn't he? Alex looked forward to getting to know him more, one way or the other.
Listening with half an ear to the rest of the talk about how Rob had obviously been a good-two-shoes with more than an hour of time to look stuff up, Alex's gaze roamed over to the red-head on the couch. The nerves were practically pouring off of her in waves as she glanced from one of them to the other, not saying a word. Well, he'd found the wallflower of the group, that was for sure. He gave her a friendly wink from his end of the room, just in the case that it turned out her ability was nuclear powers or something. If he was telepathic, he would have totally loved to send her a 'hello' message.
"Somehow, I feel like we scared her off." Alex mildly remarked as the girl with ripped jeans stumbled out the door. Maybe they were jumping at each other's throats, but he had a feeling she was going to need to man up a little more if she wanted to survive all this. Though, admittedly, not everyone was as nonchalant as he was about being told that their entire life was a lie.
He decided in the end that, via her reaction, she was probably the most sensible person of the entire group. That fact was confirmed after the uber-buff-actual-Captain-America began to talk. "Alright guys, let's be cool here. I've got a feeling that we all are going to be working together here. So let's try to be friends! Here, I'll start off. My name is Leo Eternali, I like long walks on the beach. Not really, but I can think of one reason why I'm here and its something that's made me different than most people." And then the best part came. "Bro can you help me out? Show em what a knife does to me if I get stabbed? I know its weird but its an ice breaker right?"
Alex outright laughed at that, putting his hands together. "Alright, I want to get a better view of this." He said, grabbing his crutch and moving to a place where he would clearly be able to see what would happen to the guy, or the knife. Glancing at Gregory, his eyes sparked with amusement. "Can we assume that none of the rest of us are going to end up with a blade stuck foreheads? Or, you know. More unpleasant places."
Alex raised an eyebrow, turning in Rob's direction.
"You can go first, since you seem eager to grab all of our attention. Why don't you tell us your tricks and gimmicks?" Rob dryly suggested.
Alex's teeth showed a bit more in his grin this time as a reply. The possibilities of things he could do to answer his challenge were endless. Everything from convincing him to moon the group to having him kneel flashed through his head before he stopped himself, deciding otherwise. First and foremost, making an enemy prior to having spent an hour in the mansion was really not ideal, especially when he still wasn't a hundred percent sure what everyone's abilities were. You could never be too careful of staff-wielding jocks these days.
It wasn't long after Alex opened his mouth to answer him that the other dude started to speak. "Hold it just a minute there Boy Wonder," The urge to smirk was ridiculously strong, but he held off anyways. "If I remember correctly, one of us here is potentially the one who killed our estranged brother. Now if you don't mind, since your oh so eager to know everyone else's skills, I think it is only polite you go first." Jeez, this guy was a shark, wasn't he? Alex looked forward to getting to know him more, one way or the other.
Listening with half an ear to the rest of the talk about how Rob had obviously been a good-two-shoes with more than an hour of time to look stuff up, Alex's gaze roamed over to the red-head on the couch. The nerves were practically pouring off of her in waves as she glanced from one of them to the other, not saying a word. Well, he'd found the wallflower of the group, that was for sure. He gave her a friendly wink from his end of the room, just in the case that it turned out her ability was nuclear powers or something. If he was telepathic, he would have totally loved to send her a 'hello' message.
"Somehow, I feel like we scared her off." Alex mildly remarked as the girl with ripped jeans stumbled out the door. Maybe they were jumping at each other's throats, but he had a feeling she was going to need to man up a little more if she wanted to survive all this. Though, admittedly, not everyone was as nonchalant as he was about being told that their entire life was a lie.
He decided in the end that, via her reaction, she was probably the most sensible person of the entire group. That fact was confirmed after the uber-buff-actual-Captain-America began to talk. "Alright guys, let's be cool here. I've got a feeling that we all are going to be working together here. So let's try to be friends! Here, I'll start off. My name is Leo Eternali, I like long walks on the beach. Not really, but I can think of one reason why I'm here and its something that's made me different than most people." And then the best part came. "Bro can you help me out? Show em what a knife does to me if I get stabbed? I know its weird but its an ice breaker right?"
Alex outright laughed at that, putting his hands together. "Alright, I want to get a better view of this." He said, grabbing his crutch and moving to a place where he would clearly be able to see what would happen to the guy, or the knife. Glancing at Gregory, his eyes sparked with amusement. "Can we assume that none of the rest of us are going to end up with a blade stuck foreheads? Or, you know. More unpleasant places."
Rob Dunbar
"Hold it just a minute there Boy Wonder,"
Rob glanced towards Gregory, his words holding bravado. "If I remember correctly, one of us here is potentially the one who killed our estranged brother. Now if you don't mind, since your oh so eager to know everyone else's skills, I think it is only polite you go first."
What was this, an accusation? Rob scratched his chin, keeping an eye on Gregory as he sat down once more, a sneer forming on his face. "But then again, you probably already know everyone elses dont you? You've done your homework, and you know our histories, you have been the good little detective, havnt you Boy Wonder? So just so that we are all on the same page here with what you know, I think its only fair that you share the info in that little file you got their with the rest of the family."
"I could probably bet that everyone in this room has done some level of research," Rob responded coldly. "My research is merely basic. But what surprised me was I couldn't find anything about you anywhere, not even something as simple as a Facebook account or any immediate friends. I bet you like it that way. Off the grid...hard to find." He got up from his chair, giving Gregory a suspicious glower. "So what are you trying to hide from?"
"There is wayyyyy too much testosterone in here for me," he heard Scar utter from the side. "I need some air."
Now Rob understood. This was turning into a power struggle. They all thought Rob was trying to be some kind of leader of the gang they were forming, a potential aggressor. All he was doing was trying to solve a mystery, just like everyone else. Obtaining answers was his priority and that included knowing everything he could about his "family".
"Alright guys, let's be cool here," Leo, who'd remained in the background of this argument, came forward. "I've got a feeling that we all are going to be working together here. So let's try to be friends! Here, I'll start off. My name is Leo Eternali, I like long walks on the beach. Not really, but I can think of one reason why Im here and its something that's made me different than most people." He pulled out a knife, tossing it to Gregory. "Bro can you help me out? Show em what a knife does to me if I get stabbed? I know its weird but its an ice breaker right?"
Rob took note of Leo, who seemed way too out of character for his background. He guessed it was a possibility Leo was actually this joking bumble of fun, but he didn't buy it. Somehow, he felt like Leo was putting on a façade, analyzing in secret the way Rob was doing in a confrontational manner.
And Gregory...Rob looked at the now openly armed man. Gregory liked to challenge confrontation. His arrogance proved so. So Rob wondered what Gregory would do here, whether he'd actually take a curious stab at Leo or continue to challenge him instead. Ron put on a smirk. "If Leo's willing to go first, I'm cool with that," Rob said. "If you want to take a stab at me, that's cool too. So go for it."
On the flight, Willa studied the files that were delivered with the letter once more. There were some peculiar names on the list; a few she had heard of, a few brought up information on a cursory Google search (thank you, in-flight WiFi). The file didn't contain any pictures, so the names that did bring up images, she noted. A few prodigies, though she was sure all were gifted. She tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that her birth name was listed, not her now-legal name. So either the information was older and only cursory research had been done on all of them, or her name had been left deliberately. Perhaps to make it easier to draw connections, perhaps for reasons that were going to get her into a fight. Either way, that was the least of her worries.
Finding a cab from the airport wasn't difficult, nor was finding the address. Willa was awestruck by the size of the building she was to report to. It looked almost medieval, like a castle; Kings and nobility were fit to reside there, not a rag-tag bunch of "gifted" children. Maybe that's how important they were. Regardless, their host must be impressive.
Willa climbed out of the cab and swung her backpack on, pulling the cabbie's fair out of her navy coat pocket. She thanked him kindly and tipped well. Let her be remembered as a nice young lady, if she went missing and the poor soul had to give her description.
That was almost all of her American cash, though she had her credit card deep in her jean pocket and a few pieces of jewelry in her bag to hock if worst came to worst, and the ability to make more. Creating metal and gems, that was easy enough, so she doubted she'd be left high and dry at any point. Credit cards weren't so easy, nor cash. She hadn't even packed clothes, preferring to just bring her laptop and money in her carry on, along with a few books. She couldn't just pull those out of thin air. Things with codes were hard; things that she could touch and feel, see how they fit together and looked at every angle, those she could handle.
So she was a little nervous about giving her phone to the guard at the door, and hesitated there for a moment. She was just behind a familiar looking boy with headphones hanging out of his pocket. Ah- he had been on her flight, hadn't he? Willa was about to call out to him when a girl with rather incredible auburn curls smacked straight into him, stumbling for a moment. The short brunette jumped slightly at the collision and handed her phone off to the guard with a sigh, jogging over to the pair.
"I'm such a klutz, I'm sorry." The tough-looking girl was saying, fidgeting nervously around the boy in her concern. Now that she was up close, Willa realized that she was really quite lovely, with icy eyes and some barely visible freckles on her tanned skin. In fact, from what she had seen, they were all good looking. Well, choosing pretty genes must have been easy at the Build-a-Baby they all came from.
"Any broken bones?" She piped, bouncing to a stop next to the pair.
"Somehow I doubt our 'generous host' would be happy if the investments tore each other up before they got to appraise us." She said loudly, using her stage voice so that those in the other room would hear, because she really hoped she had misheard that cocky voice asking to be stabbed.
What a first impression. She certainly was with like company, at least.
Finding a cab from the airport wasn't difficult, nor was finding the address. Willa was awestruck by the size of the building she was to report to. It looked almost medieval, like a castle; Kings and nobility were fit to reside there, not a rag-tag bunch of "gifted" children. Maybe that's how important they were. Regardless, their host must be impressive.
Willa climbed out of the cab and swung her backpack on, pulling the cabbie's fair out of her navy coat pocket. She thanked him kindly and tipped well. Let her be remembered as a nice young lady, if she went missing and the poor soul had to give her description.
That was almost all of her American cash, though she had her credit card deep in her jean pocket and a few pieces of jewelry in her bag to hock if worst came to worst, and the ability to make more. Creating metal and gems, that was easy enough, so she doubted she'd be left high and dry at any point. Credit cards weren't so easy, nor cash. She hadn't even packed clothes, preferring to just bring her laptop and money in her carry on, along with a few books. She couldn't just pull those out of thin air. Things with codes were hard; things that she could touch and feel, see how they fit together and looked at every angle, those she could handle.
So she was a little nervous about giving her phone to the guard at the door, and hesitated there for a moment. She was just behind a familiar looking boy with headphones hanging out of his pocket. Ah- he had been on her flight, hadn't he? Willa was about to call out to him when a girl with rather incredible auburn curls smacked straight into him, stumbling for a moment. The short brunette jumped slightly at the collision and handed her phone off to the guard with a sigh, jogging over to the pair.
"I'm such a klutz, I'm sorry." The tough-looking girl was saying, fidgeting nervously around the boy in her concern. Now that she was up close, Willa realized that she was really quite lovely, with icy eyes and some barely visible freckles on her tanned skin. In fact, from what she had seen, they were all good looking. Well, choosing pretty genes must have been easy at the Build-a-Baby they all came from.
"Any broken bones?" She piped, bouncing to a stop next to the pair.
"Somehow I doubt our 'generous host' would be happy if the investments tore each other up before they got to appraise us." She said loudly, using her stage voice so that those in the other room would hear, because she really hoped she had misheard that cocky voice asking to be stabbed.
What a first impression. She certainly was with like company, at least.
"I could probably bet that everyone in this room has done some level of research," Rob coldly to Gregorys accusation, causing him to grin in appreciation, "My research is merely basic. But what surprised me was I couldn't find anything about you anywhere, not even something as simple as a Facebook account or any immediate friends. I bet you like it that way. Off the grid...hard to find." Rob said rising from his chair, as if it were some measure of intimidation, Gregory wasn't scared, he couldn't remember the last time he had been, "So what are you trying to hide from?"
The pretty curl with the curls rose from here chair, clearly exasperated with the power play at work between the four men, "There is wayyyyy too much testosterone in here for me," She turned and walked towards the entrance, leaving her helmet and gloves behind, which told him she wouldn't go far, "I need some air."
"Alright guys, let's be cool here," Leo said, breaking the tension in the air, which Gregory was unsure as to whether he was grateful for or irritated at, "I've got a feeling that we all are going to be working together here. So let's try to be friends! Here, I'll start off. My name is Leo Eternali, I like long walks on the beach. Not really, but I can think of one reason why Im here and its something that's made me different than most people." He pulled a knife, causing a palpable ripple of tension in the room that washed over Gregory like a wave over a rock, he was actually more intrigued now. Leo tossed the knife to him, catching him mildly by surprise, of all the things Gregory had expected to happen, Leo tossing him the knife was not one of them, "Bro can you help me out? Show em what a knife does to me if I get stabbed? I know its weird but its an ice breaker right?"
Gregory mulled over the situation, from the sounds of things, it would be plausible to suspect that at least Leo may possess the same hyper-regeneration as Gregory did, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that, he liked being special, Unique.
"If Leo's willing to go first, I'm cool with that," Rob said, trying to wedge himself back into the conversation, "If you want to take a stab at me, that's cool too. So go for it."
"Alright, I want to get a better view of this." Alex said, manoeuvring himself around so he could get a better view of the spectacle, Gregory liked that, most people couldn't stomach real violence, and it intrigued him the boy actively sought it out, "Can we assume that none of the rest of us are going to end up with a blade stuck foreheads? Or, you know. More unpleasant places."
"No promises," Gregory said with a smile, before plunging the knife into Leos abdomen, unsure of whether he actually was looking forward to seeing how the boy survived, or just how he died.
The pretty curl with the curls rose from here chair, clearly exasperated with the power play at work between the four men, "There is wayyyyy too much testosterone in here for me," She turned and walked towards the entrance, leaving her helmet and gloves behind, which told him she wouldn't go far, "I need some air."
"Alright guys, let's be cool here," Leo said, breaking the tension in the air, which Gregory was unsure as to whether he was grateful for or irritated at, "I've got a feeling that we all are going to be working together here. So let's try to be friends! Here, I'll start off. My name is Leo Eternali, I like long walks on the beach. Not really, but I can think of one reason why Im here and its something that's made me different than most people." He pulled a knife, causing a palpable ripple of tension in the room that washed over Gregory like a wave over a rock, he was actually more intrigued now. Leo tossed the knife to him, catching him mildly by surprise, of all the things Gregory had expected to happen, Leo tossing him the knife was not one of them, "Bro can you help me out? Show em what a knife does to me if I get stabbed? I know its weird but its an ice breaker right?"
Gregory mulled over the situation, from the sounds of things, it would be plausible to suspect that at least Leo may possess the same hyper-regeneration as Gregory did, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that, he liked being special, Unique.
"If Leo's willing to go first, I'm cool with that," Rob said, trying to wedge himself back into the conversation, "If you want to take a stab at me, that's cool too. So go for it."
"Alright, I want to get a better view of this." Alex said, manoeuvring himself around so he could get a better view of the spectacle, Gregory liked that, most people couldn't stomach real violence, and it intrigued him the boy actively sought it out, "Can we assume that none of the rest of us are going to end up with a blade stuck foreheads? Or, you know. More unpleasant places."
"No promises," Gregory said with a smile, before plunging the knife into Leos abdomen, unsure of whether he actually was looking forward to seeing how the boy survived, or just how he died.
S C A R
Shortly after Scar had bumped into the next member of their motley crew, she heard Alex comment, "Somehow, I feel like we scared her off." She chuckled half heartedly while shaking her head. She could careless about the test of man-hood in the adjacent room or anything of that nature. She was mostly scared of being asked about what makes her different. Once someone finds out, they want to see it... and then, that's when all hell breaks lose. Plus, she didn't want people thinking she was the one that killed that other dude in college, she didn't even know who he was.
That is when Scar saw a young girl, obviously the same age as the rest of them bounce over towards her and the young man she just nearly knocked over. She was a cute woman, the pixie cut suited her face shape and also matched her sense in fashion quite well. Scar managed a slight smile as the girl spoke, "Any broken bones?"
Scar laughed softly, "Yeah, I think we're good. I was just in a rush to get a breather." She slipped her hands back into the pockets of her jeans while rocking on her heels slightly. "It's a lot to take in... and I don't even know what I'm 'taking in'. But I think if anything the news is going to get worse before it gets better." Something about this girl made Scar feel at ease, maybe she reminded Scar of an old friend... or maybe she seemed a little more sane than some of the yahoos in the other room. She could easily see herself becoming friends with this girl, but Scar knew better, no one ever sticks around her long enough for friendship, so she shrugged off the idea.
For a brief moment she overheard a bit of the conversations being passed in the other room. Was Leo wanting Gregory to... stab him? She was having a hard time making everything out until she heard Gregory's cocky tone "No promises." Upon hearing that she pivoted on her heel quickly, stepping towards the room the others were in. Her hands rested on the frame of the door as she leaned her head into the room. Her curls fell like a veil over her face and she was able to quickly brush them back in time to see Gregory's fluid movements, plunging the knife at Leo's abdomen, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Her icy blue gaze met that of Gregory's for a brief moment. She'd be lying to herself if she said he wasn't attractive, but he was obviously the typical "bad boy"... everything about him said drugs, sex and rock-n-roll. And contrary to her own tough exterior, she steered clear of guys like him, they were bad news.
She hadn't realized how long she had been staring at Gregory, and upon knowing that she quickly turned back into the foyer towards the two others that were out there with her. "Sorry... Boys being boys." Scar chuckled softly before extending her right hand towards the girl, not worried about any side effects from her touch because she hasn't used in over 24 hours. "I'm Scar."
Shortly after Scar had bumped into the next member of their motley crew, she heard Alex comment, "Somehow, I feel like we scared her off." She chuckled half heartedly while shaking her head. She could careless about the test of man-hood in the adjacent room or anything of that nature. She was mostly scared of being asked about what makes her different. Once someone finds out, they want to see it... and then, that's when all hell breaks lose. Plus, she didn't want people thinking she was the one that killed that other dude in college, she didn't even know who he was.
That is when Scar saw a young girl, obviously the same age as the rest of them bounce over towards her and the young man she just nearly knocked over. She was a cute woman, the pixie cut suited her face shape and also matched her sense in fashion quite well. Scar managed a slight smile as the girl spoke, "Any broken bones?"
Scar laughed softly, "Yeah, I think we're good. I was just in a rush to get a breather." She slipped her hands back into the pockets of her jeans while rocking on her heels slightly. "It's a lot to take in... and I don't even know what I'm 'taking in'. But I think if anything the news is going to get worse before it gets better." Something about this girl made Scar feel at ease, maybe she reminded Scar of an old friend... or maybe she seemed a little more sane than some of the yahoos in the other room. She could easily see herself becoming friends with this girl, but Scar knew better, no one ever sticks around her long enough for friendship, so she shrugged off the idea.
For a brief moment she overheard a bit of the conversations being passed in the other room. Was Leo wanting Gregory to... stab him? She was having a hard time making everything out until she heard Gregory's cocky tone "No promises." Upon hearing that she pivoted on her heel quickly, stepping towards the room the others were in. Her hands rested on the frame of the door as she leaned her head into the room. Her curls fell like a veil over her face and she was able to quickly brush them back in time to see Gregory's fluid movements, plunging the knife at Leo's abdomen, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Her icy blue gaze met that of Gregory's for a brief moment. She'd be lying to herself if she said he wasn't attractive, but he was obviously the typical "bad boy"... everything about him said drugs, sex and rock-n-roll. And contrary to her own tough exterior, she steered clear of guys like him, they were bad news.
She hadn't realized how long she had been staring at Gregory, and upon knowing that she quickly turned back into the foyer towards the two others that were out there with her. "Sorry... Boys being boys." Scar chuckled softly before extending her right hand towards the girl, not worried about any side effects from her touch because she hasn't used in over 24 hours. "I'm Scar."
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Gregory Richardson
What fear can I possess, what pain can I not enjoy?
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There is nothing impossible to him who will try
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"I feel like this is a chance in a lifetime opportunity... wait who's after what now?"
Leo Eternali
"Molon Labe" -King Leonidas I
Jeanne (Ann) Imperioli
Look, this is insane
Willa Lance-Jones
"All the world's a stage."
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Gregory Richardson
What fear can I possess, what pain can I not enjoy?
Jeanne (Ann) Imperioli
Look, this is insane
Shawn O'Lonain
"I feel like this is a chance in a lifetime opportunity... wait who's after what now?"
Willa Lance-Jones
"All the world's a stage."
Leo Eternali
"Molon Labe" -King Leonidas I
Alexander Phillips
There is nothing impossible to him who will try
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Leo Eternali
"Molon Labe" -King Leonidas I
Alexander Phillips
There is nothing impossible to him who will try
Jeanne (Ann) Imperioli
Look, this is insane
Willa Lance-Jones
"All the world's a stage."
Shawn O'Lonain
"I feel like this is a chance in a lifetime opportunity... wait who's after what now?"
Gregory Richardson
What fear can I possess, what pain can I not enjoy?
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the Heirs
1, 2, 3, 4, 5by wolfstar918 on Thu Jul 30, 2015 1:12 pm
- 83 Replies
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- Last post by emotionless
on Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:59 pm
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the Heirs
Most recent OOC posts in The Heirs
Re: the Heirs
Apologizing for my own disappearance. I wasn't able to log in consecutively due to the site being offline, and them I was moving.
Re: the Heirs
wolfstar918 wrote:Going to wait two more days to see if anyone else replies before continuing on with the plot.
I would post again, but I don't want to like bombard the posts with my character lol. I think I'm just a lot more active on this site than others lol.
Re: the Heirs
Going to wait two more days to see if anyone else replies before continuing on with the plot.
Re: the Heirs
That's fine, just try the best you can.
And if you can't, that's fine as well. Getting better is more important.
And if you can't, that's fine as well. Getting better is more important.
Re: the Heirs
Guys I am soooo sorry for not posting. I've recently had an emergency stay in the hospital and I'm just now getting back. I begged my mom for my tablet but she was concerned I would be writing instead of concentrating on getting better. I have to admit she was probably right, but at least it would have given me something to keep my mind off the fact that I was in the hospital again. The problem now is I don't know if I can catch Shawn up or not. Also with my health so up in the air right now I don't know if I can keep up. I'll read over everything I've missed and see if I can catch up Shawn. I apologize to everyone, I hate that I wasn't here.
Re: the Heirs
I just wanted to check do we have an order of writing or can we just write when we have something to write?
Re: the Heirs
Thanks! I always try to throw in a little humor. No matter the RP, but the whole stabbing thing is probably one of the dumbest ideas Ive ever come up with haha
Re: the Heirs
Can I edit that post? I'll fix it if I can, otherwise just disregard that.
Also, Jericho, I can't tell you how much I laughed at your "Bro, stab me bro" comment because that's exactly what I was thinking when I was writing my post.
Also, Jericho, I can't tell you how much I laughed at your "Bro, stab me bro" comment because that's exactly what I was thinking when I was writing my post.
Re: the Heirs
I'm aware this probably wasn't clear, so I'd like to point out that they would not be aware they are clones of famous individuals as their files are the police reports and the police didn't know about that.
Re: the Heirs
That's fine River. Just try to keep up as best you can.
Everyone though, I'll be posting the beginnings of the plot within the next day or so, so we'll be able to get this ball rolling.
Everyone though, I'll be posting the beginnings of the plot within the next day or so, so we'll be able to get this ball rolling.
Re: the Heirs
I am so, so sorry for my inactivity. Its been kind of hectic here. My grandmother is in the hospital with a brain tumor, so I haven't been by my computer. I'm about to leave to go start training at my new job, but I shouldn't be more than a few hours, and then I will make another post. I'm going to do my best to stay active. Send me an IM if I'm too inactive, I'll get an email alert on my phone and come make a post. Sorry again.
Re: the Heirs
Gotcha just thought that the other two would have posted in by now. It's cool though some people just run on different schedule work, school, and the lot. I'll get something in for Shawn here in a tick.
Re: the Heirs
I understand that some of you had planned something out for the plane, but I would like to inform you that I had meant to start with the arrivals, as I think I clearly said. It's confusing for some people to be running on a different timeline so early in the role play, and I would appreciate it if within the next post or two you arrive at the location.
Additionally, for everyone who hasn't posted yet or hasn't specified a time, In Game time should be about 7, 7:30 pm.
Additionally, for everyone who hasn't posted yet or hasn't specified a time, In Game time should be about 7, 7:30 pm.
Re: the Heirs
Scar.- wrote:Hi. So I just realized I had a huge blonde moment... I read in the rules that I had to message here to ask to reserve a historical figure or ask permission to join and I forgot like 2 minutes later. I apologize I'm tired from work. But I already submitted a character. I'm still getting a hang of this site and everything. But anyways. I love the idea of this roleplay and would love to be a part (if not, that's cool no big deal). I'd like to have my figure be Helen of Troy... Sorry about my confusion.
That's fine, and she was accepted it you didn't notice
Re: the Heirs
Hi. So I just realized I had a huge blonde moment... I read in the rules that I had to message here to ask to reserve a historical figure or ask permission to join and I forgot like 2 minutes later. I apologize I'm tired from work. But I already submitted a character. I'm still getting a hang of this site and everything. But anyways. I love the idea of this roleplay and would love to be a part (if not, that's cool no big deal). I'd like to have my figure be Helen of Troy... Sorry about my confusion.