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Minx Lilia Monroe

"Don't pretend like you care because you don't. Don't lie at my expense because it'll get you nowhere."

0 · 1,145 views · located in Point Place, Maine

a character in “The Mistfits”, as played by Etta Mare Lindon

Description

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Heartless|The FrayBetter Than Revenge|Taylor SwiftPiece By Piece|Kelly ClarksonFight Song|Rachel PlattenLocked Away|Adam LevineOne Call Away|Charlie Puth
{"Don't do that! Pretend like you care, because you don't! No one does."}


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| N A M E |
Minx Lilia Monroe
| N I C K N A M E |
"Minnie" by her grandparents
| A G E |
16
| G E N D E R |
Female
| E T H N I C I T Y |
American (of Irish and English decent)
| B I R T H D A T E |
November 22

| S E X U A L I T Y |
Heterosexual


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{"I'm sure that I don't have to tell you that you're an asshole because enough people have already mentioned it, is that correct?"}


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Image| H E I G H T |
5' 5"
| W E I G H T |
112 lbs
| E Y E C O L O R |
Hazel
| H A I R C O L O R |
Strawberry blonde
| A P P E A R A N C E |
Minx is your average American teenage girl, appearance wise. She is about average height, pale, and skinny. Her strawberry blonde beach waves usually reach down to the small of her back, and she rarely straightens it. She has almond-shaped eyes and arced eyebrows that tine out at the ends. A typical outfit she would wear is dark skinny jeans and a t-shirt; she only dresses up for important events and prefers to sleep in yoga or sweatpants because they're comfortable. She hates rain boots because they're made of rubber and will where sneakers without rubber and flip flops.
| O D D I T I E S |
She has a scar on her right knee from falling on a corner of a cabinet and her skin is very pale. She also has a few scars from minor hiking accidents and other things. She does not have any tattoos, being too young to get one anyway, and she has a few freckles on her arms. Sometimes it seems to her like one of her legs is shorter than the other, too.


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{"Never send someone else do your own job. They never do it right."}


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| P E R S O N A L I T Y |
✦ Strong ✧ Cautious ✦ Feisty ✧ Impatient ✦

On The Outside: From a person looking in, no one can really tell who Minx really is, if they see her at all. To other people (strangers), she may seem withdrawn, aloof, a leper; she made herself this way so no one would see her and now she walks down the halls without one glance in her direction. If they try to talk to her, on a good day she may entertain it; she might smile and laugh and talk. But that is almost never what happens. What really happens is that she shuts them down right away, not bothering to waste her breathe. She doesn't want to talk to people about mindless things or gossip about other people; it's never been her style to talk behind people's backs, preferring confrontation over submission. Her dad may have taught her one thing after all. Minx isn't trying to be rude though, she isn't. She is honest to a fault and doesn't see the point in sugarcoating the truth anymore, taking a more straight-to-the-point stance. She also can be very snappy and feisty if people talk about her or pry into her life. It's her way of protecting her heart and scars, the parts of her that no one should or ever will know about. Making herself seem confident and proud in the eyes of others is easy; it's being herself that's the hard part.

On The Inside: On the inside is the Minx that no one knows, not even her father. She is ruthless, having been through far too much for someone so young. She was betrayed one too many times and no longer puts her faith and trust in anyone but herself. The world has pushed her around so many times that she really doesn't even know who she is anymore. She takes refuge in her books; it's her happy place, and she reads alone because she doesn't want people to see her reactions. Minx feels as though showing any emotion, happy or sad, is weird and wrong, and tries to seem tough and uninterested because of it. Deep in her heart burns a fire to keep going, to fight her way out and make it alive, to prove her father wrong. She is a survivor and a fighter and she never gives up. She is stubborn to a fault and it shows when she gets into arguments with anyone; her pride plays a role in it as well, so even if she knows she's wrong, she has trouble admitting it. There is more anger than there should be, at the world and at her life, but Minx tries to not let it take control. However, she does have an appetite for revenge, as I mentioned before.

The Hidden Part: This part of herself is hidden even from her. Her vulnerable side, her weak side. She doesn't like to admit that she has one, but deep deep down, her heart is screaming for someone to love her. She isolates herself from everyone; she does it to herself and she doesn't know that she is slowly killing the human part of her. Whether she has built up all of these walls for protection or not, they are suffocating her from the inside out and she feels trapped. Part of her wonders. She wants to see if someone is willing to break down her walls, if they're even able to. This is the part of herself that loves and cares for others, the one she suppresses because she thinks it's weak to do so. This is part that cares deeply for her grandparents and what people think about her. She is fragile on the inside, a normal teenage girl hardwired into the deepest parts of herself. This hidden part is hidden for a reason: It holds all of the pain she feels for losing her mother and never meeting her, her self-pity for being stuck with her dad for the rest of her life, her hatred for what she's become on the outside with no way to change it, and her confusion about herself and what she wants. She also fears being controlled and pinned down because of her father.


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{"Every man for themselves."}


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Image| P O W E R |
Electrokinesis is the power to manipulate energy across the electromagnetic spectrum, whether it's creating images, controlling technology, or generating electrical impulses. Her biggest weakness is rubber because it combats electricity. Minx has acquired this power because she has always had a fear of being weak. With the power to control electricity, she is very powerful and can control most things in this technology driven world. When she was little, her father used to threaten to hurt her and always had said he would leave her outside when it was storming or chain her to a stove and see how long it took for her to burn. She was always scared of even walking around the house or outside because of him, and now she doesn't have to be because she controls what she fears most.
| S T R E N G T H S |
✦Never gives up - Minx is a fighter, born and raised. While some could have let abuse like she experienced consume her, she rose above it and chose not to let it define her. It taught her an important lesson to always fight for what she wants because she sees giving up as a sign of weakness.
✧Intelligent - She is intelligent in the sense of common sense. She was an average student in school, getting A's and B's for the most part; Minx knows how to survive, to put it generally.
✦Sharp senses - She has a very good sense of hearing and seeing and tends to excel in hide-and-seek and telephone.
✧Chameleon - She is very invisible to the public eye, just a face without a name and one no one remembers. This actually plays to her strengths because she doesn't like being the center of attention and can go about her day without worrying.
✦Adaptability - Minx can live in any type of environment and doesn't mind change because it means more opportunities. She doesn't even take note or acknowledge when new things happen in real life because she's so used to surprises.
| W E A K N E S S E S |
✦Tenacious - She believes in her own opinions and will stick by it no matter what. This goes along with the never giving up part of her because she sees changing her opinion as a sign of weakness. Because of this, she can be very thick-headed at times and narrow-minded because she refuses to see other sides of the story.
✧Slow - Mentally, it may take her awhile to put together pieces of a puzzle if she thinks too hard. However, if she lets her mouth say the words for her, she tends to say things that she hadn't even realized yet but subconsciously knows it true. Minx is not the person that you want on battle strategy or looking for clues because it may take a while.
✦Candy - She is obsessed with candy and loves anything sweet. Twizzlers, Sour Patch Kids, Swedish Fish, Starbursts, Jolly Ranchers, you name it and she likes it.
✧Her Past - Her father's abuse has impacted her in many ways. She doesn't share it with anyone and it makes it seem as though she has secrets.
✦Selfish - After a life alone, she has learned to only care for yourself. It's every man for themselves in her book because everyone that she let near hurt her in the end. This is her way of trying to save herself, closing off her heart and putting barbed wire up for good measure.


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{"Reality sucks so I live in my books."}


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| H O B B I E S |
✦Singing - Minx sings to keep herself happy and hopeful. It has been scientifically proving that singing will improve your mood, and she knows this. When she doesn't sing, she'll hum.
✧Dreaming - As sad as it may sounds, she spends most of her time imagining things that will probably never happen because she's in a hell hole. A lot of the times she'll think about running away, but she knows better. She mostly dreams about her Dad dying one day.
✦Planning - She plans ahead for everything she is able to. She hates surprises because she doesn't like not knowing things are going to happen, whether they are good or bad. She also thinks quite a bit and tends to plan her future that way.
| H A B I T S |
✧Biting her lip - When she thinks hard about something, she'll usually nibble at her lip absentmindedly. She doesn't even know she's doing it, but she does.
✦Planning Ahead - Not much to say about this one. She has to plan ahead to be ready and prepare herself. She doesn't like to be misinformed or cheated and this is her way of keeping herself safe.
✧Assuming the worst - Minx always assumes the worst, whether it's out of people or a situation or both. She hasn't had very much luck and kindness in her life, so she doesn't expect to get it back.
| L I K E S |
✦School - She likes school because it's the one place she can go for refuge without an excuse for her dad. And she genuinely enjoys the work because it keeps her mind busy and her thoughts subdued, a coping mechanism if you will.
✧Books - Minx has always loved books and they are the one thing she allows herself to enjoy. She has one bookshelf that is her pride and joy and she's read everything in it at least twice.
✦Thai Food - She has an obsession with any Asian food, but especially Thai. She loves using chop sticks to eat and the new culture and tastes. Pad Thai is her favorite because she has good memories of her grandparents with it.
✧Outdoors - If she is outdoors, she is either hiking or on the water somewhere. She loves the smell of fresh air and savors it whenever she can. Minx also tends to read outside when it's nice as well and doesn't mind insects and things around her.
✦Revenge - Minx is an avid believer in revenge; what comes to you is what you deserve and this is mainly aimed towards her dad. However, there was that kid in seventh grade that hit her with a dodge ball...
| D I S L I K E S |
✦Animals - She doesn't like animals in general because she is allergic to cats and dogs. She just tries to stay away from them because of it and has never had a pet of her own.
✧Ignorance - Minx hates it when people say ignorant things, whether it's about women's rights, race, or her own life. She just can't stand it and doesn't have the patience to deal with it.
✦People asking about her past and talking down to her - Don't pry into her life and she won't pry into yours, unless she really cares a lot. If someone talks down to her or makes her feel weak, she will simply prove them wrong in whatever fashion best fits the case. She also hates talking about deep, sensitive issues and will shut down if you try hard enough.
✧Being underestimated - Though some people would see this as a good thing, she doesn't. Being underestimated for her is like being called weak and stupid. Minx despises it because she feels as though she needs to prove them wrong; she doesn't like feeling wrong or feeling like others think she is wrong about anything.
✦Therapists - They pry into your life and try to fix things that they aren't even a part of. It's just creepy and wrong.
| G O A L S |
✦Leave - Once she is old enough to go to college, she wants to leave this horrid town of bad memories and never go back. She even wants to get out of the country if it's possible for her, but she would need money for a plane ticket and her dad won't pay for it.
✧Make him pay - She would rather die than see him get away with everything he did. His excuses are pitiful at best and he deserves to perish in Hell. She will see to that personally.
✦Power - Minx wants power and wants it badly. She doesn't want it for all of the wrong reasons, but again, she does want to punish her father and she will be able to do that with power. However, she also wants power over her own life again; she can go wherever she wants whenever she wants without having to ask permission. She wants to be able to have freedom and choices and spontaneous adventures.
| F E A R S |
✧Her dad - Though she may never admit it, she is afraid of her dad and all that he has and will do to her.
✦Being controlled - Minx is scared of being controlled by anyone and that's part of the reason why she isolates herself so much. Her dad has control of her, but she will break free. She doesn't date because she is afraid that they will be just like her father too; that would certainly be the only person she was allowed to date at least.
✧Heights - She is terrified of heights and fears the fall back down. She hates planes and the top bunk of bunk beds because of this, and also because she doesn't control if she falls or not. She's just along for the ride.


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{"I'll always be looking over my shoulder, no matter how much you think you can change that."}


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Image| H I S T O R Y |
"'Born on November 22, 1999 in Pasadena, CA to Deven and Fiona Monroe at approximately 0325 hours' is what it says on my birth certificate. What it should say is 'Born on November 22, 1999 in Pasadena, CA at 0325 hours. Mother pronounced dead at 0325 hours.' I share a birth date with a death date because I killed my mother." When Minx was born, her mother died, and she blames herself because of it. It was a C-section; there had been complications with the birth and she had been on bed rest for a month before that, losing her appetite and weight systematically. By the time her water broke, she was too weak to have a natural birth, though that was what they had planned. While they were preforming the C-section, her mother's heart starting malfunctioning, as if it couldn't bear to have it's daughter departed from it. She went into cardiac arrest and as she was given a time of birth by one team, another team gave her mother a time of death. Minx's father has always blamed her for her mother's death, which is why he is the way he is now. Supposedly, he wasn't always abusive and cruel, not when Fiona was with him.

When Minx was growing up, she evaded her father whenever she could. He drank quite a bit and was angry when he got drunk. Then he would search for a target and his eyes always seemed to find her. Always her. After he would hit her and she would cry on the floor, not knowing what else to do. She hated him, she knew it, but he was her father and daughters are supposed to love their fathers. The next day would come and he would slink into her room at ten in the morning with a headache and apologize for doing what he did. They would go out for ice cream to make it up to her. Being so small and helpless at the time, she agreed with him and always forgave him in the end, thinking that that was what she was supposed to do. But as she grew over and the beatings continued, she started to realize that his promises were empty ones and he would never stop being the way he was. Minx remembered him bringing women home while he thought she was asleep and hearing loud bangs in the room next to her and noises she couldn't explain. As she grew older, she came to understand what he was doing and how much he had lied to her. That was when she knew she couldn't trust him anymore; it only made it worse on herself.

When she was twelve, her father attempted to remarry some slut he probably found on the street. Minx hated that bitch; she acted like she cared about her and that she could change her father, but when he wasn't around, she would whisper taunts to her, make her think that she was worthless. Needless to say, it didn't work out, but not because her safety was in danger. No, it was because it turned out she wasn't good enough in bed for Deven. He threatened to pull her out of school after that idiot, blaming everything on her. She went to public school anyway, so he wasn't even paying anything worth something to him. She obviously wasn't learning anything if she wasn't smart enough to keep her mouth shut. When she was fourteen, she was going to run away. She had a bag pack and everything, but the night she was ready to go, her father stumbled back from the bars early and caught her trying to hail a cab. The locks were re-enforced and a new alarm system was installed to ensure that she wouldn't get out again.

Her and her father just recently moved to Point Place, Maine because he finally got a job that was well-paid. This new house doesn't have that nightmare of a security system or all of the locks, just her worst enemy sleeping in the next room over. She truly hates him and cannot find it in herself to play the perfect daughter act any longer. She planned to run again, the night of the storm, the day she got detention for not paying attention for the third time in a row. A lightning bold struck the classroom she was in with about 13 other kids in it and the teacher. Once detention was dismissed, the storm had died down a little. Minx wasn't hurt or anything, but she wasn't stupid either. She knew she couldn't stay out there in the storm and forced herself to go back to her house, earning herself another beating when she found her father up and waiting in the family room. She cried herself to sleep that night, angry at herself for backing out and vowing that she would leave again. The next morning, she didn't notice anything different about herself besides the new bruises and cuts on her body. It took her four days to realize that something was wrong and then she thought she was crazy. She couldn't control the sparks that jumped from her hands and surrounded her outside one day. She couldn't control it when her father beat her and suddenly the microwave exploded and she screamed. She thought she was a freak and wanted to keep it hidden; she knew how mental hospitals were, the stories that came out of them. You went in and you never left, and as much as she hated her dad, she hated the prospect of dying more. So Minx coached herself to control her lightning, to control her deadly power in small doses. As she worked with it, it seemed to grow stronger and she can now feel electrical pulses in buildings, power lines, computers and phones and projectors. It's maddening, not comforting and she can't make the awareness stop. When she uses her ability, she gets light-headed and shaky because Minx can't use it for a long period of time. She is still learning to control it.

| F A M I L Y T I E S |
Minx does have a dad, but she doesn't really consider him family because of his cruelty towards her and others. Her mom died giving birth to her; it was a C-section gone wrong, is what she was told. She never had any siblings that she knows of, and as a result was isolated from the rest of the world. Her dad does have a sister though; she isn't unkind, but she isn't the most likable person in the world. Her favorite family is her mother's parents, her grandparents, because they are normal and bake her cookies and take her out to movies. They are why she is still sane.


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{"I'm booking a flight to Europe and you will sure as hell never see me again."}


ImageImage| F C |
Katherine McNamara
| C O L O R |
Dialogue: #9da9db
Thought: #d0b619
| P R O T R A Y E D B Y |
Etta Mare Lindon (Etta)


Sheet Ⓒ of CutUp

So begins...

Minx Lilia Monroe's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood
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#, as written by CutUp
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Echoes
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Friday October 14th, 4:20 PM

Matt sat there at one of the tables outside of the school cafeteria by himself. He had his nose in a book, Isaac Asimov's Prelude to Foundation, and with his usual hood held over his head. He was the first one there at their agreed meeting spot. Him, and the rest of the gang of misfits had decided to go out, and visit the teacher, Mr. Walsh, that was watching them during detention during the Storm, well mostly them, Matt had just sat there, and nodded his head. No one has seen him since, or heard anything from him since the Storm. They needed to know if he was also affected by the Storm.

Matt then began to idly chew on the draw string of his hoodie as he continued to wait. "Well, well, well what do we have here?" A familiar voice to Matt called out to him from behind. Matt gave no reaction, and continued to stare forward. "Hey Freak I'm talking to you!" Then a hand came up, and smacked Matt on the back of his head. It was Mike Logan, probably Matt's most frequent bully. Mike was a smooth operator, being able to talk himself out of any trouble, and well loved by most of the schools. He was the reason why Matt was in detention to begin with. Mike still had a slight bruise on his chin from when Matt clocked him. Though Matt got a few good licks in, it was Mike who won the fight.

Matt glanced up at Mike with an uninterested look on his face. "What Mike?" Matt asked a soft, and timid tone. Mike then yanked the book out of Matt's hands, and tossed it aside on the ground. "So I've been thinking about when you sucker punched me. And I gotta say, I don't like it. Especially that lesbo bitch yelling at me afterwards. I don't really appreciate it." Mike stated as he hopped up on the table. "Don't call her that. I didn't tell her to do anything. I told her to drop it." Matt told him, his voice ever so slightly raising. "Don't tell me what to do Greenie! Beside, that bitch is just a stupid cu-" Matt then shot out of his chair, and slammed his hands on the table. "Don't call her that!" Matt demanded as he tightly clinched his fists.

Mike hopped off the table, and sized Matt up. "Well look who grew a pair!" Mike had one or two inches on Matt, but to Matt it seemed like feet. After staring one another down intensely, Matt backed down, and brought his gaze to the ground. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Don't you EVER talk to me like that again Freak." Mike then proceeded to shove Matt, but Matt didn't budge an inch. It was like trying to push a brick wall. Mike raised an eyebrow at this, and saw that some of the others were starting to come. "We'll finish this later Door Matt." Mike whispered in Matt's ear before he left.

Matt clinched his jaw, and sat back down, averting his eyes from the others. "Umm......hi." Matt greeted rather awkwardly, still unable to look them in the face. Matt took in a deep gulp as he took quick glances up at his 'friends'. What an odd group of friends. If he can even call them that. Most of them are complete strangers, having only seen them when walking pass them in the halls. Then there was Max, he does consider her a friend. Though he's not sure why she can say the same when she hardly knows anything about him.

Matt got up, and picked up his book. "So....is everyone ready to go?" Matt asked. "Does....anyone have a car? I don't think Max's car can hold us all....though I guess Huxley can just run.....and maybe Jessica can teleport? And Dustyn could turn into a bird or something." Matt suggested. He folded his arms, and held them close to his chest rather uncomfortably. Those were probably the most words he has said to most of them. Matt opened, and closed his right hand as the others talked. His body still felt rather weird, he felt like he weighed as much as a tank, and just as strong as one.


Meanwhile as the group was gathering an unknown man watched them from afar. He rode in a blacked out SUV, with the drivers side window rolled halfway down. He held a camera in his hands, and was taking pictures of the group. Focusing particularly on Matt, Magdalene Atwood, Minx Monroe, and Myung Sung-Jae. He was rather out of the way, no way the teens could see him watching him.

After several more pictures his cell phone began to vibrate. The man placed his camera in the passenger's seat, and calmly picked up his phone. He received a text message from someone simply referred to as 'The Boss'.
{From: The Boss}
{They're going to the teacher's house. Get there first, and set up surveillance. It's an important moment for them.}
The man sighed as he put his phone down, and drove away. "It's gonna be one of those days." The man sighed, his voice sounding like thunder.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe
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{"Never send someone else do your own job. They never do it right."}


Dialogue color: #9da9db
Thought Color: #d0b619
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Age: Sixteen
Ability: Electrokinesis
Quirk: Allergic to dogs & cats
Minx walked from her house to their predetermined meeting spot, as she didn't own a car or have any friends that would drive her there. She didn't know any of them, not really; she maybe made an acquaintance or two, but everyone else was new territory. Or she didn't like them. And so she walked, having missed school that day because of her drunk father yet again, in her worn down sneakers and casual green t-shirt and jean Capri that ended right at her knees. Her unruly hair was done up into a messy bun at the back of her head and strands of her it whipped around her pale face with the wind. Though her arms and legs were covered in scars, she didn't bother covering them that day or any day. She wouldn't let something as menial as appearance break her enjoyment of a good Autumn afternoon.

As she marched on down the road, walking between the moments of no sidewalk and sidewalk, she took note of the cars passing her by, wondering who was in them and what their life was like. It always baffled her that in every car there was a story different from her own, ones that were better and ones that were worse. There were dogs in some, their heads hanging out the windows, tongues lolling to the side. There were kids shrieking in joy as they found out a surprise or won a game of I-Spy. Minx wished that she had that life, a life where there were no worries or doubts about herself, where she could enjoy the day and not have to wonder what would happen that same night. She realized she was smiling as she thought and quickly stopped; it wasn't like her to loose control like that. She usually kept her emotions well in check, especially around strangers.

Her feet continued to carry her down the road, twisting and turning until she could see their little rendezvous in the distance. Some were already there; she could see their heads bobbing and bodies moving as they conversed. As she watched, one of the figures in the distance moved away from another and left, walking back in her direction. Minx continued on until she was close enough to see facial features in the other person. She recognized him as a kid from school, but he wasn't one of the ones that had been in detention. Why was he even there in the first place? She didn't trust him just like she didn't trust anyone else, so as he passed her on the road, she stared him down, not letting her eyes leave his protruding form. He caught her looking at him and sneered, as if to imply he held some sort of power over her.

She hated him instantly.

"I'm sorry, is there something wrong with your eyes? I could've sworn I just saw you look at me like I was a piece of meat." She had stopped walking and so had he. Minx was never one to be afraid of confrontation and she knew that she would enjoy this conversation. The boy's grin widened and she ground her teeth together. "No problem here. I just make a point to notice an opportunity when I see one. Feisty and cute!" His eyes roamed her body and it made her feel sick. "My eyes are up here, asshole." She watched as he pursed his lips together, though she couldn't tell what he was thinking now. "I know that, but you have so much more down-" He didn't get to finish because Minx had been inching closer to him and now lunged, ramming her elbow into his gut and bringing her knee to his groin for good measure. He double over with a groan, clutching himself in pain. She leaned in close to his ear now that he was down to her height. "Now let me break this down for your small mind: This is what rejection feels like. I'm sure it's a familiar feeling and I don't have to explain what it means. Next time, keep walking or you'll be even more sorry then you are now," she forced out through her teeth. She hated being treated like a man's toy almost more than she hated her father. Minx shoved him away with a glare and started walking towards the others again.

The rest of the walk gave her time to calm down. The color subsided from her face and she stopped gritting her teeth together and relaxed her muscles. She didn't look back once at the fallen figure on the sidewalk to see if he had gotten up yet or was gone. She didn't care. When Minx reached the others, it seemed like almost all of them were there already. She was late, as usual, and heard the tail end of what Matt was saying: "-ley can just run.....and maybe Jessica can teleport? And Dustyn could turn into a bird or something." Minx observed Matt indifferently. He seemed to be uncomfortable with being up there talking to a group and she noticed he clutched a book in his hand, though it was nothing she had ever read before. She glanced around at the rest of the group, knowing that most of them didn't like her. A girl near her started to shake her head and said, "No can do, boss- so far, I've only been able to teleport places I've actually been before. And I'm not in the habit of stalking teachers, so...Still I can always sit on someone's lap if need be." Minx recognized the girl as Jess Banks, who possessed the ability to teleport places, though only places she had been to before, she just found out. She listened quietly, waiting to hear any more suggestions or for someone to explain what they were talking about.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood
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The morning was like any other. The alarm on her phone caused the device to vibrate, which sent Duke into action. The large, beast of a dog leapt onto Max’s bed and immediately started licking her face until she awoke with a disgusted “ugh!”. She shoved him off, rolling the mutt onto the other side of the bed. Knowing he did his job, Duke simply laid there, his big pink tongue flapping in and out of his mouth. Max’s father told her that Duke was a mixture between a Siberian Husky and German Shepherd, but Max is pretty sure there’s some Tibetan Mastiff in his genes. The dog is massive; on his hind legs, his paws reach the girl’s shoulders.

Max knew she had to get up; if not, her brute of a dog would just drown her in slobber once more. She started her day like most others: filling her empty house with loud music and dancing through her morning routine. A quick shower, doing her hair, getting dressed, making breakfast, and feeding Duke. Of course, she couldn’t resist giving the dog a couple of nibbles of her own food; she knew it wasn’t healthy, but those puppy dog eyes broke her down every time.

Once she was ready to go, Max opened the front door, only to have Duke bolt out and leap into Max’s car. “Sorry, big boy. You should stay home for today.” The dog whined, flattening his ears, practically pouting. Max let out a dry laugh and sat down in front of the wheel. “Fine, fine. You can come.” He let out an elated bark, his tail thumping against the leather seat.

There was always something about driving with the top down that felt… empowering. Not just thrilling, but strengthening. It felt like she was flying with the wind tearing through her hair, with Duke sticking his head over the side, tongue flopping out. Her speakers were blasting one of her favorite songs. She sang along loudly, practically shouting the words.

It was easy to spot the group she was to meet with. By the time she had parked her car and started walking over, the douche-dick that had gotten her that detention was picking on Matt. This made her clench her jaw in frustration. She strutted over, head high and shoulders wide. Duke trotted alongside her, his face serious and his chest puffed out. It was as if he could sense that Max wanted to show dominance, so he went along with it. Before she had even reached the group, the bully was storming off. Her steely-gold gaze followed him, but her jaw relaxed. She crouched down for a moment and put her hand on Duke’s head. He perked up, tail wagging and tongue flopping. “Duke, why don’t you go play with our friend over there.” Duke’s body language changed just with the inflection of the way she said “play”. He grew stiff and took up a dominant body posture once more, waiting. “Go.” And it was as if he was a thoroughbred being let out of the gates. Duke was off like a bullet, darting after the guy, barking wildly with fangs baring. The bully immediately shouted and ran, Duke nipping at his heels.

Max approached the group with a broad smile on her face. She just caught the end of Matt’s sentence. “..Does....anyone have a car? I don't think Max's car can hold us all....though I guess Huxley can just run.....and maybe Jessica can teleport? And Dustyn could turn into a bird or something.” She put her arm around Matt’s shoulder, despite the boy being taller than her. Her boots did add an inch or two.

Her gold eyes surveyed the group, counting how many there were. “Let’s see… We’ve got… nine people, minus Dusty, Huxleberry, and moi…” She said to herself, trying to figure out how many people she could fit in her car.

“No can do, boss- so far, I've only been able to teleport places I've actually been before. And I'm not in the habit of stalking teachers, so… Still, I can always sit on someone's lap if needs be.”

Jess. Max felt her heart skip a beat, like something out of a shitty romcom. That one night… God, she’d fucked that up bigtime. She probably rushed the poor girl and scared her off; the blonde was out of the door before Max had the chance to offer her coffee. Although she had liquor in her veins, Max remembered that night vividly. The feeling of her pale, soft skin… Her nails digging into Max’s shoulders… The noises she made…

It was as if a jolt of electricity was sent arcing up her spine. Despite the warmth she felt in her face, Max still managed to open her smart mouth, “Well, my lap is open if you’re willing.” That clever smirk creased her lips. A sharp bark in the distance got her attention. Duke trotted over; she could see a slight bit of denim in his mouth. The bully had been wearing jeans. She leaned down and grabbed his cheeks, giving the mutt a kiss on the nose. “Gooood boy. Good boy.” She patted his head before standing up and looking back at them.

“Regardless, this doesn’t fix the problem. I can only bring five people maximum in my car… Where are we going, anyways? Where’s this teacher live? God, I can’t even remember who it was. Can being struck by lightning cause memory loss?” She let out a laugh, albeit it was nervous, as she rubbed her temples.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston
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"I, Jonathan A. Livingston, solemnly swear this 13th of October 2—— that I'll never give Mr Linecker a hard time ever again. Even if he's wrong. Bleeding chain rule."

On the night of the 13th of October, after the worst electric shock he'd ever had since that incident with the string lights and the hair dryer previous year, he needed time to think. Where normally he was able to take the speed in which his thoughts travelled most times each day, tonight was a night he did not want to leave himself at the mercy of his own confusion.

Tomorrow... Tomorrow would hopefully be the time they all figured out what the fuck was going on. Meet-up at the tables outside the cafeteria. 4:30 PM departure time. Off to find answers at their detention hawk's house.

He reached behind one of the bars on his headboard (thirteenth out of thirty-four) and felt for the twine-like material of a small black drawstring pouch less than half the size of his hand. Out of it, he pulled out a pre-rolled spliff—his temporary release for the evening.

He lit up and took his first puff, savouring the numbness before letting out an exhale.

"Hah. Who am I kidding?"

________________________________________________________________________________________

14 October, 4:22 PM

Despite yesterday's respite, the questions never stopped coming. He was far too distracted to pull off some of his usual antics in his classes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he partly attributed it to the fact that some of the teachers were keeping a close eye on him following his detention, though equally unusually hadn't really affected him before. The storm, he thought, might have done a little more than whatever it had done to him. He still didn't fully understand the extent of his power, but then who would if you found yourself on the floor and watching your own limp body just feet away from yours?

Strung up today. That's new.

The day before, they had decided that there was to be no attention drawn to yesterday's incident or the twelve of them—thirteen of them, including the teacher in charge that day—until the coast was clear. Absolutely crystal.

The eight hours spent in school seemed to stretch out for far longer than he liked.

He felt the restlessness he'd built up throughout the day relieved when he saw the four who were gathered at the rendezvous. Only four others out of the twelve were there. There were two underclassmen—Matt and Minx—and two seniors—Jess and Max.

"I can only bring five people maximum in my car.", he'd overheard as he approached the table they were gathered near.
"Now, then, did someone say 'car'?"

He approached them with a grin and stood next to Jess, promptly putting his hand atop her head and patting it.

"If you need the additional space, folks, there's around five more in mine." He turned to Jess and chuckled, taking his hand away before she could swat it away.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston
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Myung Sung-Jae | Eighteen | Atomic Transmutation | #368BC1


"If you wanted to go to the bathroom you should have gone during break," the teacher leered.

"Mr. Manning, I don't have the ability to control whether or not I want to go to the bathroom," Jay shrugged, "and it would be impractical for everyone in class to use the bathroom during break. The lines would fill the hallways."

"Are you defying me Sungee?" Manning, the teacher, asked.

"I'm not trying to upend your authority I'm just saying that-"

"Sungee need I remind you that you have been late to this class five times in these two weeks and I don't take kindly to you wasting time in the class!"

This would have been the point that Sung-Jae normally stopped as he knew Manning's red physiognomy wasn't a good sign for his blood pressure; however, he really did need to go.

"I mean I'm happy to leave for the bathroom and-"

"No! In fact you'll be staying here Sungee. You'll be staying here after school in detention."

As the balding man bent over his desk to write on a pink slip Sung-Jae could hear two girls in the background.

"What's his problem?"

"Rumor has it his wife dropped his ass for his brother."

Yep, that'll do it. Jay nodded, accepting his fate.


And good that he did because he ended up spinning straw to gold quite literally. Jay didn't have a good command of his powers, but after spending the night reading nothing but issues of Captain Atom and the Superpower Wikia he had some idea of where things were going. He just needed to put his theories into practice without going Flashpoint Paradox.

Luckily there were no Atlanteans in Maine. At least he hoped not.

He threw on some combination of a shirt, tie, and jeans. Certainly nothing impressive but he wasn't looking to impress anyone today. He just needed to survive until he met up with the other twelve kids from detention. With that in mind he let his mind drift through class before falling asleep completely and having one of his two other friends drag him from class to class under the guise that he'd stayed up doing an essay. They weren't the type to dig deep anyway.

That's assuming they care at all.

At 4:30 Jay lumbered to the meeting point he noticed that Gully, Jess, Minx, and some others that he only paid mild attention to had already arrived. They were talking about ride arrangements and Jay could only snicker at the way Gully acted toward Jess. Honestly he wasn't sure sometimes whether or not Gully knew how annoying he was being.

Scratch that. The guy knew exactly how he was acting.

"That depends. How long's it been since you lit up? An hour? Maybe two?" he replied to Gully,

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston
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______________________________________
Feigning a look of abject horror, he put his hand to clutch at his pearlless chest.

"Shh, shh, shh. We're near school premises. Don't you know that, as stated in Maine law, possession and use of marijuana and related paraphernalia is punishable by a 350-dollar, if 1.25 oz or less, or a 1000-dollar, if 1.25 to 2.5 oz, fine? And even more money and even time in prison for possession of above 2.5 oz? Shocking, Jaybird, shocking."

He paused a moment and smirked at the man, nudging his shoulder.

"Nah. Last night. I had to drop Lil off at her dance competition earlier today. Nan would have my neck if she smelt it on either of us. Lil would have my neck if she smelt it on me. Now you, you're coming with me." He turned and looked at the people gathered there. "Any other takers? The car's clean, minty fresh. No takeaway rubbish."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi
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"Here, here," Garry called out lazily as he walked from a little way back towards them, his hand raised as if he were answering a question in class. His voice was quiet as always, but it was just loud enough to be heard by the group. Strolling towards them, Garry gave Sungee a quick nod, followed up by a small wave towards the others, expression only somewhat apologetic. "Sorry I'm late, had to hand in an assignment to Mr Hazelman."

Dressed in a rumpled white shirt with a half-zipped grey hoodie, Garry finished off the look with pressed jeans that were tucked into white-and-red sneaker boots that ended at his ankles. Combined with a checkered red jacket which had its cuffs rolled up a few times that looked slightly too large on him (and for good reason, it had belonged to Garry's older brother Jed before he grew too big for it) and bed hair that was only half-heartedly neatened with a comb, Garry looked as if he had forgotten to iron the clothes he was wearing and slept in them during classes.

Which, to be fair, he had only done so during first period. Turned out that getting hit by lightning, followed by an extremely worried older brother's fussing over his health combined with a lecture over getting into detention for getting caught in a fight (Garry would like to add that he had been trying to stop the fight before the teachers came in and mistook everything) took a lot out of a person.

The loud cackling that was his stepdad had been laughing his ass off after he'd heard what had happened and that his brother had looked odd for a second before brushing the question ("had you been hit by lightning too? The storm was pretty bad, happening all over town,") had kept him up too.

Well, whatever. Garry readjusted the backpack on his back, feeling his assignments and books jostle against each other before settling again. Now wasn't the time for reminiscing. Now was the time for finding a teacher who had been missing since detention and a choice between cars. Troublesome, but necessary. Hmm...

"I'm ok with riding with whoever." Garry said decisively, coming to a stop beside Seagull, hands slipped casually in his jacket pockets. He gave a shrug, a faint grin forming on his face that looked almost wistful as he said, "Riding shotgun would be nice, though..."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston
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I'm late, late, late. Ironic, wasn't it, that he had acquired super speed yet still managed to be late to almost everything?

Fast, too fast, slow down. Man, if Hux had a dollar for every time he thought that, even before the Storm, he would be well on his way to his first million. His white Nikes hit the ground at an amazing speed, carrying him by in a blur of green, brown, and silver as he left a whirlwind in his wake.

It only occurred to him as he was almost at the meeting spot that he looked like a fucking tree. Green t-shirt and brown pants. What was he thinking? Shaking his head, he quickly turned himself around. He was already late, what was a literal minute or two more.

In his room. Keep the green. Ditch the brown. Red instead? Now he's a fucking Christmas tree. Blue. Keep it simple. Turn around. Run right back out.

It took him approximately a minute to reach the place where he had been when he turned around and, once again, he was going way too fast.

He skidded to a stop just in time to hear ❝The car's clean, minty fresh. No takeaway rubbish.❞

❝That's just 'cause you're not in it.❞ He quipped playfully, the words feeling like they took an eternity to pass his lips, but the others would never understand him if he let them pass naturally. His mouth was a gatekeeper, its job to keep syllables in line and release them at an excruciating painfully slow rate.

❝I could carry someone.❞ He mused aloud. ❝Maybe you, Minx?❞ He smiled, and in the blink of an eye he was by her side and grinning at her. He knew the girl didn't like him, probably hated him, but that only spurred him on in his quest for her approval. He couldn't stand to think there was someone out there who didn't like him at least a tiny bit.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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Soft breathing echoed throughout the empty house as Octavia's chest softly rose and fell. She had fell asleep on the couch last night still dressed in her lacrosse uniform from yesterday. Apparently practice went on longer than usual so when she got home the first thing she did was drink a glass of milk and pass out on the couch. During the night Octavia was slightly awakened by her baby sister, Isabella who apparently had a bad dream and had crawled on the couch and fell asleep in her arms. When morning came through Octavia woke up to empty arms. She blinked some of the sleep away from her eyes then rubbed the rest away while sitting up. The curtains were parted slightly only letting in a sliver of light in the living room but the glass from the front door and the other windows clearly let the sun pour in illuminating the whole downstairs.

"The hell?" She managed to mumble as she looked around. The house was empty and quiet. No sign of her mother or baby sister which was a bit odd because she usually awoke to Isabella tapping her nose or her mother telling her she was going to be late for school if she didn't wake up. Octavia pushed herself up off the couch and stretched out her limbs with her lacrosse Jersey rising slightly exposing milky skin for a brief moment. There was a slight breeze through the house from a window open in the kitchen that blew her hair a bit but Octavia couldn't feel it. It was weird actually. She couldn't feel most cold externally like ice for example but if she were to eat it it'll feel normal, very cold and very wet. Maybe it was a good weird because Octavia hates the cold.

Letting out a yawn Octavia began walking to the kitchen where she fixed herself up a quick sandwich with a small bottle of cranberry juice. She then proceeded to head towards her room but before she went up the steps she took a glance at the wall clock. Halfway up the steps she actually realized the time and ran back down to make sure her eyes weren’t screwing with her but nope, the time read that she was clearly going to be late for the little gathering. It also explains why the house was so quiet, her mother was already an hour into work and her little sister at the daycare. "Shit!" Octavia placed her bottle and half eaten sandwich down on the small coffee table and began running back up the steps before she realized again that she really wanted that juice so she came back down, slid into the living room with her socks, almost fell, grabbed her bottle and went back up to her room.

After a quick shower and brush of her teeth Octavia got dressed in her outfit for the day and was out the door. There was a moment where she debated whether to take her bike or walk but after thinking about it, in the rush she was in Octavia didn't want to end up setting her bike aflame so she settled on walking. When she got there Octavia instantly noticed that everyone was there, almost everyone anyway since a certain white haired boy wasn't present yet along with a couple of others. Instantly her eyes fell on Max who she walked next to and gently bumped her shoulder with her own giving her a smile. "Hey you."

A familiar fur ball was next to catch her eye as Duke was seated next Max. Instantly Octavia crouched down and began rubbing his head smiling before rubbing his ears next. "Hello to you too Duke." Octavia's voice seemed to changed like when someone would usually talk to a dog or baby, it had that silly sounding tone to it. While she petted Duke Octavia listened to the conversation above. "I call dibs on riding with Max!" Octavia called out while standing back up. She nearly jumped out of her skin though when Hux appeared before her causing her hand to instantly latch onto Max's out of instinct. "Dammit man, don't do that."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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There weren't a huge number of things that could leave Maggie Atwood speechless. Ever since her transfer to Point Place much of the school had been subject to her running commentary and expression of fascinating facts about unsolved murders or pagan burial practices or spontaneous human combustion. Today was different. Today Magdalene had been...uncharacteristically quiet. Of course being addressed was still enough to stoke the young woman into conversation... but it was a little unusual to see the regular chatterbox so comparatively muted.

Superpowers were all well and good, but you had to actually know what they were in order to use them effectively...and up until pretty recently Mags had had no idea what kind of ability she'd been bestowed with, or indeed if she'd been given anything at all. The idea that some freak storm had bestowed x-men shit on every random bastard except her seemed like the kind of thing that might happen.

Except she'd worked it out. Completely by accident mind you.

Maggie had read stuff about synchronicity before, how unrelated events might line up together in strange, nearly deterministic ways...and it was an impressive stroke of luck in many ways that she were to get a superpower of that nature just before she was going to need it. Evenso, Magdalene could not help but feel like she moderately preferred the annoyance of not knowing that you had any kind of superpower, to the events that had led up to her working hers out.

Jacked zipped up and an aged-looking purple keffiyeh scarf draped round her neck, the figure of miss Atwood slipped out of a side door and over to the group, affixing a moderately socially acceptable smile on her face before she got close enough...albeit it was a little strained as it became clear that they were going to have a degree of canine company.

Supposedly the plan was to go seek out the teacher, assuming he'd not turned into a pumpkin or a pick-up truck or been dropped through a wormhole. Who knew. She'd be willing to bet anything by this point.

"Don't panic everyone, I'm here." she remarked, rather flippantly, before flopping back against the wall, calculating her apparent carelessness to make sure she had a decent number of people stood between her and some hairy death machine.
"What did I miss? Anyone started to fight crime yet, because honestly the lot of you are way behind the curve with that. We're getting into 'uncle dying' territory at this point and no-one wants that to start going off, so someone should probably go falcon punch a mugger this afternoon just to be safe."

She hunched forwards, arms folded over her chest and booted feet crossing each other.

Alright, so quiet was still not that quiet.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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CLEMENTINE KIDO
hex; #a0c7b4XXXlXattire; xXXXlXsong; x

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Fourth period always seemed to move with a particular sluggishness, the ache of the period prior still dull and brooding, coupled with the knowledge that there was still another to go.

Kido tucked a lock of silky black behind her ear, only for it to tumble back towards her face. She liked the easiness of her short hair, the little effort it required -but she could not deny that her bob's irritating persistence could be grating after a long enough space of tucking, and falling. Tucking, and falling.

The door opened, and there was a young boy. Dark and small with eyes like a startled deer. He walked towards the lecturing professor, head bowed shyly as he passed on the slip of paper. Professor Gaffney read the paper with a funnel between his brows, and looked up through smudged spectacles. "Kido? You're wanted at the office."

Immediately everything was hushed whispers and curious chatter. And Kido stood up amidst intrigued gazes, and walked to the office with blossoming rumors trailing behind her like a murmuring cloak.

She walked into the office, and saw her mother. She frowned, and spoke perplexed. "Mom? What are you doing here?" Her mother balled the handkerchief in her hands, looked up at her with damp eyes. "Oh, honey. It's- it's Aunt May."

Kido frowned some more, knowing perfectly well that she did not, and never had possessed any such Aunt. Nonetheless, she followed her mother out of the office, getting into her car with a sigh of annoyed realization.

"So, we got you out of that hell hole, huh? What did you think of my acting?" "Good enough to put Keith Richards to shame." "Keith Richards? He's not an actor." "Exactly."

Her mother pouted, before grinning merrily, squeezing Kido's shoulder with one hand whilst she drove. "Anyway, Snippy, I was thinking McDonald's? For a treat." "What's the occasion?" Her mother looked offended, but she hid it -badly- behind a layer of nonchalance. "Do I need a reason to treat my daughter?"

You got dumped again, didn't you?

Kido didn't say it aloud, and when her mother bought her a happy meal, she ate everything despite not being hungry. She humored her mother as the woman made jokes about the large gentleman sitting beside them, ensuring herself that he probably couldn't hear them, or even if he could, he wouldn't know that they were talking about him. Kido didn't completely believe herself, but she pretended to, and as her mother took her to bumper cars, and bought her an ice cream, and then clothes shopping, she tried not to pay attention to the fact her mother's card maxing out in front of a number of other impatient and judgmental customers.

By the time her mother finally dropped her off back at school, Kido was exhausted from feigning cheer.


She walked into the room just in time to catch the end of Magdalene's quip, and she raised her hand in casual wryness. "I offer my services. On the house."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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Quiet and empty. Dustyn seeked out places where he could be alone during the breaks between classes. Sometimes he just slipped into the bathroom and doused his face in cold water, sometimes he slipped out behind the dumpsters next to the football field and smoked a fast cig. Sometimes he left campus all together, his black boots marching him out of the humdrum neighborhood the high school inhabited and straight towards home, done with the day and in dire need of his own space.

Sadly, today he had no such luck. He was supposed to meet the kids from detention- the ones that suffered from the same affliction as him, though in strangely different ways- after class. Though he wasn't the type to usually join in after-school activities, this was something he couldn't just ignore.

It was fucking terrifying, the shit that was happening to him. Unrelenting rage that had always existed, but now took the shape of claws and fangs and talons. Anger that was so concrete it was almost like it existed apart from him, a strange beast that stirred murderous thoughts in his mind. It was terrifying because he could tell when it was happening- like watching himself on a television, he wished he could scream and say 'calm the fuck down, this isn't that big of a deal'. His dad finishes the milk in the fridge, his dad takes his last cigarette from the package, a teacher calls on him in class when its clear he doesn't know the answer, a guy bumps into him in the hallway- all triggers for a brutal force of hot red that shouldn't be.

That first day after the lightning storm, the power had been amazing. After he'd gotten over the initial fear, Dustyn had changed into every single animal he could think of, tried every single ability they could offer, and loved it. But now, after the excitement settled and reality checked in, he realized he was dangerous.

Dark blue eyes danced across the faces of the students he had sat with in detention, people he recognized as passerbys in hallways, some that he knew more then others. If that inner beast of his wanted to, he could change right now and rip into a few of these soft bodies, the curved claws of the panther slicing into flesh like warm butter. And he'd probably get away with it to, because who in their right mind would look at him and think he had the power to conjure claws and fangs when his anger got the best of him? It would be so easy- even that dog wouldn't put up much of a fight next to the bulk of 160 pounds of pure feral cat.

He shook his head as a slow rumbling purr threatened to escape him, the images of kneading claws and a content blood splattered feline grin flashing through his mind. No, sticking with this group for the moment was in his best interest- he wanted to learn as much info and figure out what the hell happened during that lightning storm.

"...And Dustyn could turn into a bird or something." He was only have paying attention when- Max was it?- spoke his name, causing his attention to jerk to the shorter blonde haired kid. Invincibility or something like that, a power that men could only dream about.

"Yeah, I'll just fly" Dustyn grunt of a reply was loud enough for Matt to hear, spoken in between the comments of the others. Though he could fly, the stability and control of those god-damned wings was damn near impossible. He'd practiced a few times, and like a fledgling bird learning its first flight, he'd fallen from every single platform he took off from. But he'd gotten the hand of it mostly, enough that he could keep up with a car as long as he could focus on the control of his feathers and not the direction of his flight.

As the rest of them planned the ride to the teachers house for information, Dustyns eyes traveled to the massive tongue lolling dog that joined Max at her side. There was always a slight territorial edge he felt towards other animals, though Dustyn knew Duke from previous encounters. Blue eyes met canine brown for a moment and Dustyn felt a stir of instinct slice through him... best to ignore the dog for now. His attention returned to the group as everyone settled out their riding arrangements, only mildly paying attention as he thought through the lessons he'd taught himself for flying without falling out of the sky.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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Ghost
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Matt flinched slightly as Max wrapped her arm around him. He appeared even more uncomfortable being touched. But there was nothing he could really do. Max was Max, she does whatever she wants. He rolled his eyes when she made a comment about her lap being open for Jess. As the others began talking, and Max's dog Duke joined them. Matt lightly patted the dog on the head, who then proceeded to lick his hand. Matt watched as Octavia joined them, gravitating towards Max. When Octavia jumped from Huxley's entrance, and clung to Max's arm he saw this as his chance, and ducked underneath Max's other arm to get away.

With everyone there, and discussing riding arrangements Matt rubbed the back of his head. "Ok.....so we'll ride in Max's, and Jonathan's car, while Huxley, and Dustyn get there their own ways." He summarized it up. "I know where Mr. Walsh lives, I looked it up last night." He stated. "If everybody's ready, then we should go on."

And with that everyone loaded up in the respected cars. Matt got into Max's car, taking the front seat with Duke sitting on his lap. It was a short twelve minute drive to Mr. Walsh's house. He lived in a small residential area, with only a few neighboring houses. As they pulled into the driveway the curtains of the window next to the door shuttered slightly as someone had watched them pull in, and quickly moved away. Matt stared at the window before getting out of the car. Matt carefully approached the front door, opening the storm door, and knocking on the door. Shuffling could be heard from the inside, stuff being moved around rather quickly. Matt knocked once more before the door was finally opened.

Mr. Walsh answered the door. The teacher was in rather bad shape, with thick bags under his eyes, his skin being a ghostly pale, and his hair being a complete mess, with what would appear to be small clumps pulled out of it. "Mr......Mr. Walsh?" Matt asked hesitantly. "Gr....Greene? What are.....what are you kids doing here?" He asked, struggling to get his words out. "We.....we haven't seen you since the storm.....we were worried.....can we talk?" Matt nervously asked. "Ta....talk? The.......Storm......the Storm......the Storm.......cause of the Storm......it has to be- ARRGGHH!" Mr. Walsh screamed in pain midst his ravings. Mr. Walsh clinched his temple as he screamed in agony, and then he began pounding on his head.

Mr. Walsh staggered back away from the door, mumbling something. "Mr. Walsh!" Matt opened up the door fully. Once he did an overwhelming stench bombarded everyone. It caused Matt to flinch, and cover his mouth, almost enough to make them throw up. Inside Walsh's home the entire living room was a mess. Furniture turned over, holes in the walls, pictures broken, it was a complete mess. "Mr......Mr. Walsh are you ok?" Matt asked as he fought through the overwhelming smell. "So many voices! Too loud......can't think.....hear it all.....not sure what's my thoughts anymore." He managed to get out.

Matt approached him carefully. "Can't....think.......Butter knife.....it was just a butter knife....No don't!......was my hero....now my burden." Matt stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. How did he know? He wasn't even thinking about that. "I'm strong now........make him pay.....Animal.....they see me as an animal.....and I like it.......The Lily......the Lily's gone, and I have wilted......Can't face them.....only makes things worse.....always worse.......He fought for so long........then the plug was pulled......A thirst that can't be quenched.......encouraged by the jasmine......" Walsh stated seemingly randomly as he held his head, groaning in extreme pain.

"The Seagull tinkers......to keep his mind off the flock.....Rejects because.....it's what she fears......So many men......so many bruises......strength, need strength......Guilt, am I guilty.......just a child.......so was he......Couldn't be without her......she lights a fire within me....." Walsh leaned against a wall, nearly collapsing. He looked like death warmed over. Everything he said seemed to be random until it pertained to each teen. They were each something he heard from their minds. It was apparent that he had powers as well. "Mr. Walsh....are you ok?" Matt asked as he hesitantly approached him. Matt glanced over into the kitchen to see something covered by a white sheet, the kitchen was where the smell was the strongest.

He then looked to the wall that Mr. Walsh was leaning on to see a crooked picture of himself, and some woman who's face was obscured by the broken glass of the frame. "Mr.....Walsh? What happened-" Before Matt could finish his sentence Mr. Walsh abruptly pulled out a revolver pistol. Matt was surprised, and out of instinct backed away from the teacher. Matt held out his hand behind to signal the others to stay back. He couldn't get hurt, but they could. Matt held out both his arms in front of him, hopefully to show that he didn't mean any harm to the teacher.

"I can't think......everyone's thoughts.....deepest secrets.....desires....." Mr. Walsh groaned as he waved his gun about. "Things......I shouldn't hear.......twenty years of marriage.......affairs.......hated me......couldn't take it........it had to stop......she had to be quiet....now she's quiet.....everyone else is loud.....too loud..." Mr. Walsh continued to back away into the kitchen as he waved his gun about. "Just.....calm down....We can get you help.....no one has to get hurt." Matt stated as he slowly, and calmly approached Mr. Walsh, keeping his hands where he could see them. "It's ok.....it's gonna be ok.....just put the gun down."

As Matt got within arm's reach of his teacher he gently placed his hand on the barrel of the shaking gun, pointing it towards the ground. 'You can read thoughts right? Just focus on my mind. Ignore everyone else. You can do it." He repeated in his mind, which seemed to have worked as he began getting more calm. As he got closer Mr. Walsh placed his other hand on the back of Matt's neck, and leaned him in closer, and whispered something in his ear so low that the others couldn't hear. Then a gunshot was heard as Mr. Walsh unloaded a round in Matt's abdomen.

While it didn't cause him any harm the initial shock made Matt jump back slightly, letting go of the gun. "Sorry....it's too much." Mr. Walsh then placed the barrel of his gun underneath his chin, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang in Matt's ear, drowning out any other noise. Mr. Walsh's blood, and other fluids sprayed the kitchen, with Matt himself being right in the splash zone. Matt stood there, his eyes widened at the sight he just saw. He's never seen a real dead body before. The smell of blood was overwhelming. Matt couldn't move a muscle, his entire body was shaking with the gunshot still ringing in his ears.

His stomach was turned upside down, he felt like he was going to throw up. He couldn't take his eyes away from the dead body. He couldn't will himself to look away. He could feel the blood dripping down his face. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't move, and his body was still shaking. His mind was blank.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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What was to ensue at Mr Walsh's house was more than enough to make up for the uneventfulness of the rendezvous by the school. Not even he could muster enough to properly joke as they followed Max's car to the particular house. His mind was abuzz with the same what-ifs and theories as the night before, and he groaned silently at the realisation that it was going to have to take more time to reflect—and perhaps another spliff—to set his mind straight.
Those who couldn't ride in Max's car for lack of space he took in his pickup.
"Smell that? Minty fresh. I told you," he said as peppermint wafted out of the Colorado.

The jangly riffs of an Australian psychedelic rock band playing quietly on the speakers seemed the only respite on the drive there.

It seemed a good enough neighbourhood, he thought to himself as they seemed to near the place. He could just make out Matt gesturing towards the house ahead of him—and he swore he could even see the house closer than he could behind the wheel. Luckily for him, there wasn't a car coming at them as he momentarily let the car skid for a very, very brief moment that he promptly apologised for, as one should following accidentally posing great risk to lives being behind the wheel.

He had no idea just why his mind had wandered off into someone else's, and specifically his first body's. He still couldn't wrap his head around the scene immediately post-storm, though he remembered it perfectly well enough.
Several desks were overturned. The (fortunately, stunned and not dead) bodies of his fellow detainees were on the ground in odd positions. Must've been powerful, he thought to himself as he came to, and slowly got up on his arms to try and dust himself off, only to find he wasn't wearing his jumper. Frowning, he wondered where he had gotten this particular jacket (deep blue, hooded) and this particular tan (considering getting sun involved him burning like bacon on a cast-iron skillet) when he looked up to see that carrot head of his lying by the shelving in the back of the classroom. His sound of protest was immediately cut off just hearing the sound of not-his-voice. He came to in his real body a minute after, and for the longest he'd ever mustered in the presence of people his age, remained quiet trying to figure out what happened.

He pulled over in front of the house, parked appropriately (so no one would have at him for parking inappropriately), and got out with the rest.
The Walsh fellow seemed to him a decent sort of man, if the residence and all in it was enough to go by. Still, there was something unsettling about the way that certain things had been overturned, things had been thrown about, things broken, things fallen off walls that screamed that something in what he assumed was a perfectly ordered house could be and had gone wrong like a burglary or a nasty scuffle. It looked as if the storm had happened twice over.
Not unexpectedly, those thoughts were confirmed by the presence of the man in question. He looked wrong. Everything around him was in complete disarray—and was that blood on him?
He observed as the Matt fellow tried to reason with him, ask him what was wrong. A small part of him wanted to declare that no, he was absolutely not all right. But they needed to be delicate. If they could be spooked by the sudden appearance of powers after a freak lightning storm, then Mr Walsh could be no different—and maybe even be more worse off than them.
Then, the Cassandric babbling came.

"So many voices! Too loud......can't think.....hear it all.....not sure what's my thoughts anymore. Can't....think.......Butter knife.....it was just a butter knife....No don't!......was my hero....now my burden. I'm strong now........make him pay.....Animal.....they see me as an animal.....and I like it.......The Lily......the Lily's gone, and I have wilted......Can't face them.....only makes things worse.....always __________________________________
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worse.......He fought for so long........then the plug was pulled......A thirst that can't be quenched.......encouraged by the jasmine...... The Seagull tinkers......to keep his mind off the flock.....Rejects because.....it's what she fears......So many men......so many bruises......strength, need strength......Guilt, am I guilty.......just a child.......so was he......Couldn't be without her......she lights a fire within me....."


It occurred to him that the incoherent ramblings actually did make sense. Hearing his own nickname seemed to prove that well enough, and Clem's and Jay's stories. However, he was more preoccupied trying to think of ways to tackle the man if he posed harm to himself and others.

"Easy, Mr Walsh. No need for the tin foil today," he tried to encourage, to say something, in the hopes that it could help make the situation light. That was futile—the teacher's eyes darted over all of them before he started to shrink in on himself again. His moves were erratic and utterly pained. He looked as if he were going to tear his hair out from the roots.

His eyes widened in shock at witnessing their own teacher making his student eat lead for breakfast, lunch and dinner and turning the gun on himself and shooting. Immediately, he backed up at the sight, gripping at the hair at the back of his head as he stood there speechless. When he came to his senses half a minute later, he gulped audibly and sucked in his lips.
"Cops. Coppers," he muttered, frantically looking around for a telephone.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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Magdalene actually felt surprisingly calm as she watched the insides of their teacher's skull decorate the kitchen ceiling.

Having followed along quietly and without much comment with the group on the way there, she had hopped across to the house fairly quickly (if for no other reason than to avoid the damn dog). It hadn't really been her intention to be too heavily involved in the discussion. She was not exactly popular with school staff, especially not after the whole bra incident, so she figured she'd just stick around and try not to poison the well before things started.

She didn't know what she'd expected, but whatever it had been...this didn't meet it. As soon as the door opened it became clear that something was seriously wrong. The smell that began to leech out of the place was something that Mags picked up on almost immediately, but discounted it..mostly because it was easier to believe it was just food gone bad. And it gave some veneer of sanity to the situation.

Well, so long as you discounted the man himself, and the manic glint in his eye.

The events after that went pretty quickly. The ranting, the first shot that impacted harmlessly with a certain invulnerable member of the group. (That was pretty lucky.) And then the final shot, the spray of gore over the floor and ceiling, and the body lying prone on the floor with a considerable gap in the top of its head.

Perhaps it was a life of being a horror enthusiast. Perhaps it was some hitherto untapped steely resolve that Magdalene was surprised she possessed, or perhaps the last twenty-four hours had caused her to reach some kind of weirdness terminal velocity and she couldn't possibly get more freaked out than she already was...but Maggie didn't panic. She didn't even offer a yelp of alarm at the shots and the grisly consequences.

She stood there, eyebrows raised, a moderately shocked expression on her pale face, for a few seconds approximately, until the frantic movements of Livingston provoked her to respond in kind.


Anticipating Gully's action, Maggie's gloved hand closed around the receiver of the phone, holding it down unless anyone attempted to do anything rash and snatched it up.

"No. Let's not. Bunch of kids in some guy's house. No other witnesses. Guy supposedly just up and blows his head off in front of everyone when we all happened to show up at his house? And one of us has his prints on the weapon?" Mags indicated Matt with a casual wave of the hand.

"We're going to end up as suspects. No cops. Hang on a second and let's think about what we're going to do before we start getting the law involved, alright?"

Almost immediately she felt some level of guilt for her own safety being her principle concern. After all a man had just died.
On the other hand, someone had to say it. Before they all ended up in court trying to persuade a jury that their teacher had killed himself after an attack of apparent malicious telepathy, and that he'd attacked them first but fortunately the guy he'd shot was immune to bullets.

At least, she reflected, they'd probably end up in a psychiatric hospital rather than jail.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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He actually flew quiet well, considering his past experiences in the air. Yeah, to other birds he might look like a full-sized adult flapping its wings like a fledgling, rutting for the right wind streams and faltering on perfect glides, but he made it.

Dustyn made a terrible landing in the (thankfully) soft grass just in front of the indicated house, a few feathers flying loose at the clumsy impact. He sent a disdainful 'don't-anyone-say-anything' glare at the group of teens that were unloading from the cars, then promptly changed back into a human, adjust his clothes, and followed the group to the front door.

Walsh opened the door and Dustyn was felt an onslaught of sickly warm humid air that seemed to seep into the back of his throat like rotting sewage. He held back a gag, his face twisting into an uncomfortable grimace as he hid his nose in his leather sleeve. He couldn't tell if it was coming from the sickly looking teacher or the house, but Dustyn reasoned it was probably both.

The man looked bad, pale and gross and near death, by the looks of him. Matt had backed the teacher into the living room and Dustyn's attention turned towards the kitchen, nose scrunching as the stench increased. That was we're the putrid smell was coming from, the smell of disease and rancid meat. Meat that was not fresh, that had festered and should be left to the lesser animals... a comforting growl was echoing through his mind as he turned away from the vile murder scene covered by a stained sheet, a mental unsheathing of claws as his eyes raked over the defenseless excuse for a man. Pathetic creature...someone should put him out of his misery. A very feline rattle shook through him, a feeling that only meant power and fury and blood.

And he liked it.

"...Animal.....they see me as an animal.....and I like it..." Dark blue eyes widened as his thoughts were redirected back at him through the mans mouth, followed by a muttering stream of more random sentences. The man could see through him, he knew that Dustyn enjoyed this beasts whispered words and suggestions. Anger surged, a brittling clawing that felt like knives digging their way out of his soul, but he stamped down the change with gritted fangs as soon as his eyes locked onto a gun.

The first blast of gunpowder made Dustyn jump, eyes feverishly wide as he stared the two bodies in front of him. He knew Matt could not be hurt, but it was the anticipation of the second shot that made him uneasy.

Blood sprayed, covered the carpet, wall, and soaked Matt through. Dustyn didn't even hear the gunshot, just the noise and smell of the red liquid slapping against hard surface's and soaking into soft. Staining the carpet and Matts clothes with pinprick dots of lovely red, a spattering of the most beautiful kind of art...

Ignoring Gullys muttering, Mag's snappy retort, and Jess's frantic rambling, he took three long steps forward to get a better look. He'd never seen so much blood at once, not even when he let loose on the neighbors dog. He'd killed animals already, but the sight of human blood plastered across form of of the invisible blonde teen made a pleasurable purr threaten to leak out of him. Dustyn stood next to a very still Matt, yellow eyes locked on the body.

"I could take care of this" Gesturing towards the brain blasted body, he cast the tiniest of glances Matts way, chilly blue eyes drinking in the blood splattered across the blonde boys face, "You clear everyone out, I can make this look like a nasty accident."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Briar Rose Montague Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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Myung Sung-Jae | Eighteen | Atomic Transmutation | #368BC1


Sung-Jae hadn't been close to Mr. Walsh. Quite frankly, he couldn't remember most of the teachers at the high school. If they couldn't give him decent life advice or a good recommendation letter they were pretty useless to him. Still, seeing Walsh's power spin out of control (at least that's what he hoped it was rather than inviting everyone to watch him commit suicide) made him a bit glad he had nothing to hide. It also made him a bit sad that he wasn't the one who stepped up to help the man find his center.

The gang was left to pick up the pieces after his death which meant a flood of emotions from each person in the room. Gully was looking for his phone, Magdalene being oddly casual, and Jess very obviously wanting to vomit (not that he blamed her). He'd faced death in different ways as his family had a history of depression, casual alcoholism, and heart disease but he'd never been close enough to anybody to look at their death beyond a clinical sense. It, too, made him sad sometimes. But not sad enough that he couldn't deal with the situation at hand.

"It's a good idea but we're limited by what you can turn into," Jay interjected, glancing from the teacher's corpse to Dustyn, "unless you plan on cracking his skull it'll be hard to explain what sort of animal in Maine made a bunch of scratches and a clean bullet hole."

He steeled himself as he walked past the body, eyes scanning the room until he found one of the bullets Walsh shot into Matt.

"There's also the matter of the gun," he continued, "if it's suicide (which it was), why did he need two bullets? If it's not suicide then why is the bullet that shot him the same as from his gun?"

He was beginning to sound like the lawyer his parents always wanted him to be.

"If we do choose the route of calling the cops though I'd suggest someone call a lawyer."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Huxley I. Jansing Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: 'Seagull' Livingston Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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The whole drive to Mr. Walsh’s place was tense. Well, that was until Max revved the engine at a stoplight and took off, going from zero and fifty miles per hour in a few seconds whilst blasting Queen songs over the speakers. The whole time the music played, Max made sure to sing along as loud as possible, though it was difficult with that broad smile on her face.

The second Max turned the car off, she felt the uneasiness coming off of the house in waves. Duke could sense it too; every hair on his body was standing up and his ears were perked for any possible sound of danger. He spotted Mr. Walsh shutting the blinds and let out a low, throaty growl. A soft shush from Max silenced him, but he stuck to his master like glue. If she was in danger, he would be right there to protect her.

Max walked next to Matt. Even though he was taller, she seemed more dominant and foreboding; her body language displayed both her sense of unease and her willingness to protect her friends if shit went down. As soon as the door opened, she felt Duke go stiff. His lip curled at both the scent of the inside of the house, along with the actions of Mr. Walsh. Max was stunned by the words coming out of his mouth. It was obvious he was reciting something, but she had no idea what it could be. That was, until she heard the words, “Pull the plug”, and she herself wanted to let out a deep growl.

As soon as Max spotted the sheen of the silver on the gun, her whole body grew tense. The way he waved it around while rambling frightened her to no end, but Matt was the one closest. She took a step up behind him. The image of those riot shields SWAT carries was imbedded in her mind. The moment that he pointed the barrel at any of them directly would be when she would, hopefully, create the shield for protection. She could feel the tips of her fingers start to tingle and her head start to hurt; her whole body was already straining and she hadn’t even used her powers yet.

Regardless, it was too late for her to do anything. When Walsh turned to gun on himself, the only thing she could do was gasp and stumble back, barely out of the way of the spray of blood resulting from the shot. Immediately, the whole group started to try to figure out what to do, but all of their options weren’t logical. Now that she didn’t have to focus on possibly using her powers, Max could think about what to do. “Nobody touch anything, you hear me?” The first words that came out of her mouth were nothing but stern. “We need to go, and we need to go now. The odds are someone has already dialed the police, and the last thing we need is to be sat down in a small room and questioned for hours. He killed himself; we didn’t do anything. We couldn’t have done anything.” With a deep breath, she circled around Matt and grabbed his shoulders. She stared deep into his eyes, but they seemed glazed over. “Matt? Look at me. This wasn’t your fault, alright? We’re going to go back to my place to get you cleaned up.” She waited for him to move, or do anything for that matter. Duke, who was still uneasy, perked up for a moment. He growled and then raised his head up, letting out a toned howl. Max knew what that meant.

“We need to go, and we need to go now.” Without waiting for any sort of response, Max wrapped Matt’s arm around her shoulder and hoisted him into her arms. She carried him bridal style out of the building, barking orders all the while. “Everybody, follow me to my house! It’s big enough for all of us. Tavi! Sit with Matt in the back and make sure he doesn’t pass out. Jess, you’re up front with me.” Max walked to her car and sat him down in the back seat. “Here.” Taking a deep breath, she held out her hands and furrowed her brows. Within a few seconds, a black towel materialized in her palms; she let out a sigh as all of the tension in her body was relieved. She reached to the front of the car and grabbed a bottle of water. “Tavi, start trying to clean him up. Get the blood off of his face. I don’t care if there’s a mess. I can just get my car refurbished.”

Max could feel her heart in her throat as she climbed into the driver’s seat. Duke hopped into Jess’s lap without the order, a low whine of anxiousness coming from his throat. The only thing Max could do was give her an apologetic look. She revved the engine and took off fast, hoping their second car was following close behind.

This car ride was most certainly more tense than the last one. No one knew what to say, and Max was sure that if she hadn’t taken charge, they would still be standing in Mr. Walsh’s yard, being questioned and ordered around by the police. Just the thought of it made Max clench the wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. When they pulled into the driveway, Max didn’t turn off the car for a few minutes. The hum of the car filled the silence that she knew would follow the turning of her key, and she feared that silence. Because once the silence begins, it can only be broken.

Max helped Matt out of the car. As the rest of the group arrived, she gave them a few more orders, “Feel free to wander about the first floor. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. The indoor pool is probably cold, so I’d stay out of it until I turn on the heater. Stay downstairs; I’d rather not have people rifling through my bedroom.” The words came out harsher than she intended, but her nerves and sense of patience were fried. She brought Matt upstairs, into one of the bathrooms, and turned on the shower. She left for a brief moment to get him some spare clothes, but made sure to return quickly.

Max grasped his shoulder with one hand and held his cheek gently with the other. “Matt, it’s alright. It’s not your fault. We’re alright. You just need to get yourself cleaned up, ok? I got some clean clothes you left here in the past; you can change into them when you’re done. I promise, everything is going to be alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She gazed deep into the eyes of this boy she thought of as a brother, hoping to find that usual spark of life. It’s there, it’s just dull. He’ll… He’ll be fine. She took another deep inhale of breath before sighing again. “If you need anything, just call me, ok?” She stood up on her tiptoes to give him a soft kiss on the forehead. She left the bathroom with a kind, reassuring look.

When she returned to the living room, the first thing Max did was seek out Octavia. Once she spotted the girl, she practically tackled her into a hug and clung to her tightly. The warmth of someone else calmed her thudding heart. She breathed softly against the other girl’s neck and ear for a few minutes before loosening her grip. “Well… What now?”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matt Greene Character Portrait: Dustyn Merle Character Portrait: Jess Banks Character Portrait: Maxwell Lumikha Character Portrait: Minx Lilia Monroe Character Portrait: Myung Sung-Jae Character Portrait: Magdalene Atwood Character Portrait: Clementine Kido Character Portrait: Garry Wu Wei Zhi Character Portrait: Octavia Johansen
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Mr Walsh’s house looked surprisingly normal - pretty much a house affordable on a teacher’s salary. Garry followed the others to the house, slipping his hands into his pockets as Matt knocked on the door and idly looking around as they walked towards their teacher’s house as if he were curious about Mr Walsh’s garden looked like.

What? It wasn’t every day they came to a teacher’s house, right?

Unexcitedly, it looked like a perfectly normal house. Garry’s gaze lingered on the neighbour’s curtain as it fluttered (stars and moons against a black background, pretty nice), but then Matt opened the door and Garry’s head flicked towards the front again, slipping his hands in his pockets to hide his nervousness over finally seeing the missing teacher.

Who looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Garry’s eyes widened as Mr Walsh screamed. Oookay… What drugs is he on?!

As Mr Walsh continued to talk though, it became apparent that he wasn't on any drug or crack, just Lightning-addled with a side dish of uncontrolled telepathy like Jean Gray from X-Men going out of control. Pretty unlucky considering that the rest of them had powers that didn't cause them to have a prolonged nervous breakdown, although Garry wasn't sure about the others. Ranting something about the Storm (yup, capital letters), Garry couldn't help but feel some sympathy for the guy until the door opened and promptly destroyed his sinuses.

Oh Lord my nose it burns. Coughing and trying not to breath in too deeply, Garry entered the house, eyes widening at the sight. It looked as if a serial killer with seizures had tried to redecorate the house will drunk up to the gills before spraying the smell of decay everywhere possible (wait, it was coming from something under a white sheet), but it seemed that nobody had entered the house - his eyes zeroed in on Mr Walsh, who was continuing to rave.

“A thirst that can't be quenched.......encouraged by the jasmine......"

“Ok Mr Walsh, calm down.” Garry was surprised but glad that his voice came out soothing instead of nervous. Quick what am I supposed to do… Mind racing through options, Garry quickly chose one and then immediately tried to think soothing thoughts. Forcing his voice to sound slow and soothing and clear, Garry took a step forward, raising his hands up and gesturing at the man to calm down. Nothing but concern was on his face, and the teen was exuding a calming aura, one that had served him well countless of times before. “Focus on my voice, Mr Walsh. Ta-”

“Guilty, am I guilty…. Just a child…. So was he….”

“Wha-” Garry’s mouth hung open for a moment before he shook his head. “Nevermind, that doesn’t matter. Just focus on my voice, Mr Walsh...” He went back to making soothing motions, eyes flickering around to look for an alternative like sleeping medication or a large blunt object to knock their teacher unconscious - it was pretty obvious that talk wasn't working, he needed another plan. They could figure everything out later. Right now calming him down was more important.

Then their teacher pulled out a gun. Garry felt his heart stop in his chest and for a moment he was thirteen again, standing near the living room table and watching Dev reassembling what Garry later found out in great detail was a SIG P226.

Then he blinked and it was Mr Walsh again, holding a gun he didn't know but was definitely loaded. Shit.

Garry went quiet as Matt took over trying to calm their teacher down and took a deep breath, touching the charm hanging around his neck. It was almost like a security blanket in how calming it was. He let it out after a few seconds, forcing his heart rate to go back to normal and not flashback to a memory that really wasn't needed right now. Spying a broken lamp lying on the floor, Garry inched towards it so that he could - I dunno, use it to bash Mr Walsh over the head or something, but before he could Mr Walsh had pulled Matt close and shot him in the gut.

Mother- Garry instinctively ducked into a crouch as the gunshots rang in his ears, raising his arms over his head. As Garry ducked something white shimmered in the air, surrounding the Chinese teen like a small dome, but it didn't matter - the man was dead, blood leaking out of the mess that used to be his face and leaking into an ever growing puddle on the floor.

Seconds after he ducked Garry looked up almost immediately, a look of concern flashing across his face. “Matt!” Shooting back up, Garry made for the shot-at teen intending to give him a quick lookover, but he had barely taken two steps forward before he bumped into an translucent wall. "What the -" Garry groaned and raised a hand to push his palm tentatively against the translucent wall. His eyes went almost comically wide as the barrier rippled outwards as if his hand had touched the centre of a perfectly still pond.

Ok. Barriers. Suicidal teachers. Ok. Forcing the feelings of curiosity forward to shove the cocktail of emotions he'd been feeling away, Garry quickly tapped the barrier again, analysing how the barrier rippled more violently with the extra force. This was the first time Garry had seen something like this, but it wasn't as surprising as it should have been considering how everyone else seemed to have powers too - it was just that Garry's had turned up later than usual. Great. Now he had to figure out how to turn it off so that he could actually walk anywhere. Frowning, he tapped it again - and the barrier faded away as if it had received his wishes for it to disappear.

The teen blinked. Ok. It seemed that the barrier responded to his thoughts. Awesome. He'd deal with it later. More important things right now. Walking over to Matt, Garry took a quick glance at him - he wasn't injured thanks to his powers, but the bloodstained teen looked traumatised by what he had just seen. Turning away to leave Matt to Max, he checked in on the others - they looked shaken but not injured, gathering around to discuss what to do.

Alright, that left one more thing to do. Mentally breathing a sigh of relief, Garry steeled himself and moved to see the recently dead Mr Walsh for the first time.

The blood and the mess of a head would forever remain imprinted in Garry's mind. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Garry swallowed hard, forcing the bile down his throat and the images of a squished eyeball and brain cartilage away, shoving his emotions to the far edge of his brain and locking it along with the other emotions from before into a box to be dealt with later. Almost on automatic, his hand curled gently around the charm as he took a deep breath, and as he breathed out Garry's expression changed from shaken to calm.

"There's also the matter of the gun," Sung-Jae said, "if it's suicide (which it was), why did he need two bullets? If it's not suicide then why is the bullet that shot him the same as from his gun?"

"Hmm." Garry's grip loosened from his charm, tapping a fingernail idly against the charm's surface as looked at the scene cooly. "We could go with a twisted version of the truth," He suggested thoughtfully. "We paid a visit to Mr Walsh's house, he went loco on us and Matt tried to grapple with Mr Walsh in an effort to save all of us from getting shot. After Matt dodged a bullet Mr Walsh despaired and decided to kill himself - although why, I don't know." Garry shrugged indifferently. "We also need to figure out how to explain the bullet hitting a blunt object point-blank where Matt would have been, but it could work, right?"

Well, maybe. There was something he needed to check out thanks to that, now that he thought about it. Garry drifted towards the kitchen entrance as he kept half an ear out on what the others were talking about. So far, his first plan of action was:

1) Don't touch anything.

2) It was probably Mr Walsh's wife lying under the white cloth in the kitchen. Sounded like a mean old biddy from what we heard from Mr Walsh. Explains the rotting smell anyway. Gross. What did she die of?

3) He shot Matt. Matt's still alive thanks to his powers, but the bullet didn't pass through him. Just bounced off I guess. That means the bullet is here on the floor somewhere, waiting to be found by the police.

4) The neighbours saw us enter... probably. Maybe heard the gunshots, could be calling the police now.

5) Don't go to police yet.


"She probably died at least a week before we got here," Garry muttered to himself thoughtfully, staring at the white cloth. The shape underneath it looked like a person. Fumbling in one of his pockets for a tissue, Garry pulled out a serviette that had came with the coffee he'd had earlier in the morning. Geez, that seemed ages ago. The serviette was still in its package - Garry ripped it open and pulled it out, mindfully touching only one side of the dry napkin. Carefully placing the untouched side onto the white cloth, Garry took a deep breath, choked from the smell and then held his breath because if he didn't his nose would clearly send signals for his stomach contents to go up to his mouth and no thank you, really! Despite the determination set in his face, his arm was trembling from fear at what he might see - but before Garry could rethink his idea the teen pulled the cloth up just enough so that he could see what was under it.

The sight made Garry turn as white as the sheet he was holding and nearly throw up, but it answered his question. Hastily but still careful not to touch anything but the serviette, Garry placed the cloth down back over the body in what he was pretty sure was the same way it had been. Then he walked away, the napkin still held tightly in his hand.

Despite the schooled look of indifference on his face and Garry's relatively firm steps, anyone who knew Garry well enough would notice the troubled, horrified look hidden behind the indifference and that despite having one hand stuffed in his pockets casually, his other hand was in a white-knuckled grip on the charm around his neck and clutching it like a toddler hugging his security blanket after a nightmare. The blanched tinge to Garry's normally tanned skin would have helped too, but it was back to normal by the time the teen rejoined the group just in time to hear Max say:

“We need to go, and we need to go now.”

"Wait, wait," Garry said urgently, his eyes frantically scanning the floor. Max swept past him with Matt in her arms, but even if they fled it didn't matter - Matt's fingerprints were on the gun, and all it would do was buy them some time to come up with something before the police caught up to them. Then again, the longer they stayed here the more suspicious they would look to whoever noticed them enter. Where is it where is it - aha! Oh. "Ok I'm ready to go." Garry turned to the others, a questioning look on his face as he headed for the door. "Well, only if my ride's still available - otherwise I'm stuck here until it is."