We are now full up for profiles, however, if you'd be interesting in playing a villain for a chapter, feel free to follow the DT link on the first post.
Laments of passion Obstructed by fear. Under guises of jovial chatter; Incredulous hopes Steadily feasting away- Eating away at my heart.
Alias: Red Agra Real name: Agrafena Domoslov Gender: Female Age: 15 Appearance: Scarred face, lean body. Wears a white cape with silver streaks on the inside. Abilities: Incredible balance, very flexible. Quite catlike actually. Her real power is her ability to absorb sunlight then fire it out of her fingertips in a focused beam. It's powerful, but difficult to aim and - predictably - doesn't work if it's dark. Character: No sense of humour whatsoever, paranoid that when people laugh they are making fun of her. Exceedingly cold, like a Siberian winter. Very rarely shows any kind of emotion beyond disinterest or distaste. History: Brought up in a Russian orphanage where she was put into gymnastic training for her exceptional balance. Was beaten relentlessly for stealing food because she was always hungry, which eventually broke her spirit to rebel. Left when she was old enough to live with her brother, then escaped to Reviniare City after he was killed by loan sharks, the emotional trauma of which unlocked her powers and left her with a hatred of illegal activities. Up for love: Nope. Other: Couldn't fight her way out of a damp paper bag, even if she had a machete and the paper bag already had a tear in it. Carries a sawn-off that belonged to her brother, but has no real skill with it. At all. Theme tune: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UdXbMyo1rU
I hae but ane gallant son, and if he were to follow me in my footsteps, how proud I shall be.
Time isn't a straight line. It's a big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff
Wears a crimson overcoat, with a special harness underneath. Has 1 sheath of 4 throwing knives on each of his arms and legs with black tracksuits and leather boots.
Abilities: Has a higher brain capacity, thus giving him unnatural powers such as telekinesis and telepathy. Uses his telekinesis in conjunction with 16 throwing knives with which he can use to great effect. Also uses his telekinesis to levitate himself, through a special harness, as he cannot lift himself. John is not proficient in telepathy, as with him, it is not as simple as reading a mind. He gain access to a person’s memories and has to relive them, which could potentially psychologically damage him if they are particularly violent or traumatising. For this reason, he has limited his use of telepathy and uses it only in dire circumstances.
Character: Hot headed, rash, cocky, but empathetic and loyal. He will tend to go into a primal rage if someone close to him is hurt. He cares for naught about himself if it will save other people. John will not hesitate to be cocky to the most evil of villains, however he will, if possible, put saving innocents before capturing a villain. This goodness can be exploited when hostages are involved. John can be counted on to do the right thing at the right time, even if he makes rude and cynical remarks about what has and will happen.
History: Unlike the other members of the Saints Youth, John grew up in a prosperous family. His dad was the CEO of a multi-millionaire business and his mother didn’t work. Then again, she didn’t need to. His parents kept what type of business it was strictly secret between the two of them. Therefore John grew up with a sense of curiosity. At the age of 15, his family was attacked by mercenaries. During this he found out why they got attacked. It turned out that his father was supplying weapons to notorious villains; however one of them had thought that they had outlived their usefulness. Filled with rage at both his parents and the mercenaries he unleashed a telekinetic shockwave, killing the mercenaries, but knocking John into a coma. One year later, John awakens in a small room, strapped to life support machinery. His father walks into the room; firstly, stating that it was him that saved John’s life, as this is a private medical facility and then thanking John for saving them last year. At the mention of what happened last year, he snapped out of his dazed stupor, and calling on his anger, lifted his father up without touching him. He thought about killing the man who had lied to him throughout his life. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His good nature and the unnatural fear in his father’s eyes is what stopped him. Instead he threw him against the wall and stormed out, blasting through anything that got in his way. Homeless and alone, John was resigned to his fate; however Benjamin Leer approached him and told him about the Saints Youth, a group of individuals for people with similar abilities.
“Glad you all got the wake up call,” I smiled, giving a chuckle at the grumpy faces of my team. Admittedly, five O’clock was a tad early, but we had work to do. A fair bit of work too.
“Glad to see the fire alarms are still in working order,” John retorted, struggling to prize open his eyes from his six-hour slumber.
I huffed in humour as I removed the ream of white papers from the purple folder in front of me, continuing to observe what was written upon them. “Ok people,” I raised my voice, addressing them all concerning the inscription that I had read. “This month we are under close inspection from the government about our actions and effectiveness in the Reviniare community, meaning that I expect all of you to behave appropriately and efficiently while in public this week.”
Each of the team flashed a somewhat dry look, directed at me. “More so than when we are not under such close observation,” I added.
“What kind of reports have we got today, then?” Dex queried, take a sip of his coffee that sat on the coaster next to his elbow, much more awake than the rest of the team.
“Two robberies, a rape case and a suspected murder, so that means couples today; Me and Celeste will take the robbery on Hive Street; Dex and Valentine can investigate the smash and grab on Caiman avenue; Martin, Zac and Agra can take a look at what happened to the poor girl on Jupland Road; leaving Nina and John to find out more about the fatality at the Roberts’ mansion.”
“A mansion, hm?” Nina laughed, surely these are the kind of people we want to get rid of.
“No,” I shot back, “we deal with those who fail to obey the law, not those who are merely immoral.”
“Same thing.”
“Nice try, but no. Now everyone get going, keep in touch if you get any breakthroughs,” I said, dismissing them all with a wave of my hand. Then, I called after them, “remember, notepads, and casual wear in the daytime please!” Celeste stood up and looked across to me, beaming. “So, what are we waiting for?”
We walked across from the Conference room, through the waiting room and reception (which was decidedly empty at this time in the morning), and into the garage, where we both snatched a pistol from the gun cabinet, loading them and performing the safety precautions required before we even considered holstering them. “Right then, let’s not waste any time,” I said, sounding much more serious than I had intended, as I chest passed a white helmet across to my ally. “Let’s get to work.”
Smiling, I started up the black sports bike and strapped on my own helmet, lowering the clear visor and kicking off the stand. Nova climbed on the back and wrapped her arms around my waist, and the tyres squealed as we spun on the concrete and drove out onto the street.
Laments of passion Obstructed by fear. Under guises of jovial chatter; Incredulous hopes Steadily feasting away- Eating away at my heart.
The wind whipped at my thin clothes, making me shiver. The streets were emPty, as expected, with only the occasional light coming from the window of an early riser.
"They robbed a small convenience store," Tulpa said through the microphone in his helmet. "Took all the money in the register and stole several things from the shelves too. They held the clerk and the other customers at gunpoint and forced them on the ground while they took the money and grabbed some snacks."
"What did they take from the shelves?" I asked, curious.
"They weren't sure. When the witnesses stood up, they were wheeling out a cart filled with something, but they had thrown a blanket over it," he said.
We soon pulled into the tiny parking lot of the store. There was caution tape all around the doors and in the front. A man was sitting in front of the store, his head buried in his hands while a woman, most likely his wife, patted him on the back comfortingly.
"Excuse me, sir?" Tulpa hopped off the bike and walked over to the man. "Are you Mr. Russo?"
The man looked up at him and slowly nodded his head. His eyes were bloodshot.
"My name's Ben, and this is my partner Celeste. We're going to help you find out who did this."
The man nodded again and mumbled a thank you.
I pulled out a pen and paper from my pocket. "So, when did this happen?"
"Just a half hour ago," he said with a shaky breath. "My wife was the one working the register."
"Did you see who it was?" I asked Mrs. Russo.
She shook her head. "I was standing at the register when someone snuck up behind me, put me in a chokehold, and put a gun to my head. He told me to get on the intercom and tell everyone to get on the floor and not to look up. Then he forced me to the ground."
Ben and I exchanged glances. This guy was smart. "Was there anything distinct about his voice, Mrs. Russo?"
"It was very quiet and raspy, like he was sick," she answered without hesitation. "And he left this behind," she handed me a small plastic bag.
I took out my flashlight and held up the bag to see a single red hair. I scribbled a few notes. "You did see two people leaving with a cart, correct?"
She nodded slowly, not looking at me. "I think they were just assistants, though. They wore all black and had black ski masks. I only saw them from behind."
"Did you ever find out what was in the cart?" Ben asked.
"Yes. We did an inventory check and they took three containers of helium," Mr. Russo finally spoke up, confusion in his voice.
"Okay, thank you," Ben said, nodding curtly and heading back to the bike. "I think we have our lead."
Last edited by summergrl13 on Sun Sep 02, 2012 12:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I will review for you! PM about it if you need one!
After Ben dismissed us Valentine and I made our way to the garage. I grabbed two guns from the shelf, put the saftey on them and put them in my holsters. Valentine grabbed a couple of daggers and a gun. I looked towards the row of vehicles.
"Car or bike?" I asked. She nodded towards my motorcycle. I grabbed my helmet and threw on at her. We strapped in and made our way out if the garage. "What kind of robbery was it?" I asked turning a sharp corner.
"The bank on Cryers st. was robbed at exactly 10:00 this morning. Workers say they took about $4,567 and some safety deposite boxes." She said. "There it is." I skidded the bike to a stop right on the curb and turned the alarm on. There were some policemen and reporters still lurking around.
We walked to the entence of the bank where the windows where shattered. Real sloppy work, I thought. Before we could go inside a policeman stepped in front of us. "Sorry kids this area is off limits, run along now." He waved. I really did not want to deal with the feds right now. I looked at Valentine. She nodded and gave the cop the illusion of us walking away. When the cop turned his back we made our way inside.
The place looked horrible gunshells littered the floor and there was blood in one corner. I saw an employee standing by a teller booth.
"Excuse me sir," I started trying to maintain my accent. "We're part of the Saints Youth, can you tell us what happened here?" He said the same thing Valentine told me on the way here except he added that someone had been shot in the arm. There were three of them that had come in dressed in black. He described them the best he could but said the only the gunshot victim had gotten a closer look. I nodded and thanked him.
"Alright Val, looks like we are headed to the hospital." We pulled our helmets on and took off.
Last edited by LanaBrown on Sun Sep 02, 2012 3:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
We're all in the same game, just on differentlevels;Dealing with the same hell, only differentdevils.
Martin glared over at Zac from the front seat of the 4x4, his knuckles already going white from the force he was exerting on the wheel.
"You have a problem with me driving?"
"When you're nearly pulling the wheel off before you even turn the thing on, yuh-huh I've got a problem. What happens if some guy rear ends you? You gonna rip his car's engine out and beat him with it?"
Martin's eyes were now closed and his breaths were deep. He was obviously not enjoying having his authority challenged. I nudged Zac and nodded towards the open passenger door. He looked at me as if I was crazy, but I just hardened my expression, folded my arms and began tapping my foot. He sighed, but ceded to my wishes and climbed in.
"The tapping of the feets and folding of the arms. A biological representation of a bomb timer," he muttered mockingly as I pulled myself into the back. Martin turned the key and we slowly pulled out of the garage behind Ben and Valentine.
"Roadtrip!" Ben sang, then chuckled at his own joke. Martin began his deep breathing again.
Why do I always end up dealing with insane people I sighed to myself.
I hae but ane gallant son, and if he were to follow me in my footsteps, how proud I shall be.
Time isn't a straight line. It's a big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff
I eased into a parking space and pulled up the handbrake as the police cordon came into view. “At least we didn't kill anyone along the way.” Muttered Zach to my right. I didn't see what the little electric boy was complaining about, my driving had been fine. Sure I might have underestimated my own strength and gone flat out without realising it and I may have a hell of an over steer but none of the other drivers complained at least not after they saw the big driver with a skull balaclava on.
“How we going to handle this then?” Agra asked from her seat in the back. The three of us shared a small look whilst staying in our seats. No-one spoke for a while, we didn't do rape cases very often with none of the three of us having powers that particularly helped with this kind of unfortunate case.
“Would either of you mind if I wasn't the one to interview the victim? It's just I don't do consoling too well.” I asked my partners. Zach smiled sympathetically and Agra just nodded. In truth I could console people reasonably well, it was just my power that made things awkward. As people relived the horrible events I could feel their fear, taste it practically. I would feel myself growing stronger as I listened and there was just something wrong in getting a power trip from people's misery . “Lets get to it then.” Zach opened his door and climbed out.
“Remember, stick to the aliases in public.” Agra reminded them as she got out. As the other two made their way to the crime scene I remembered to lock the car, it'd hardly be good form for the crime fighters to have their car stolen.
If at first you don't succeed then destroy any evidence that you ever tried
Me and Scarlet had arrived at the mansion. The drive has been uneventful and we had lapsed into silence as we thought about why this murder had happened. Judging by what Scarlet had said, she did seem to hate the immoral. But then again so did I. The mansion was, as expected, quite big and looked as if nothing had happened. However the front double doors were open revealing what lay inside. We stepped inside and looked around. It had been raining recently and most of the mansions grounds had mud and grass.
"That would explain the mud imprints of someone's shoes," I said to myself. Nothing else seemed to be out of the ordinary.
"I'll take the left wing, you take the right wing," Scarlet ordered.
"Okey dokey." I went into the room to the right. It contained a nice looking sofa and a flat screen TV. A big one, about the size of a small cinema screen. Then again, this person could probably buy five more of these. It also had a flight of stairs leading up to another room. Once again nothing out of the ordinary. I decided to climb the stairs and came up to a door. I tried the handle. Locked, really? No problem. I pushed my palms together and pushed at the door. The air shimmered and the door flung back on it's hinges. Like I said, no problem.
I want to see you choke on your lies, Swallow up your greed, Suffer all alone in your misery.
Inwardly, I found myself shuddering as I sat behind Dex on the bike. I'd always hated hospitals - they brought back too many memories of being locked away in rooms that reeked of sterilizers, poked and prodded with needles and other instruments until I finally passed out. My foster mother had always been one for torment, and her working as a nurse helped me none.
But, nonetheless, I put on a brave face as we pulled up to the sidewalk of the structure. The two of us hopped off the vehicle, pulling the helmets off and leaving them with it as we walked inside.
"Now, who are we looking for?" I asked Dex. He'd been the one to talk to the man at the counter. I'd never really favored the speaking roles, per say.
"We're looking for a gunshot victim," He began as we reached the desk, talking to both me and the aged woman on the other side of the counter, "from the bank on Cryers Street. We're from the Saint's Youth, have a few questions to ask him."
The woman nodded slowly, tapping a few things into a computer before sending us down the hallway next to the desk. Room 104.
"Think he'll be able to identify 'em?" I asked as we walked. I breathed through my mouth in an attempt to keep the antiseptic smell at bay.
Dex shrugged, "Don't know. But what other leads do we have to go off of?"
None at all, really. But how many times has that stopped us? I thought with a smile as we reached the door.
I have to write. I have to write the same way I have to eat, the same way I have to breathe. It's like life to me. I have no idea where I'd be if I didn't do what I do.
As John headed along the right wing of the mansion, I investigated the opposite side, hoping to God I wouldn’t have to confront the Roberts family; they never appealed to me as the kind of people that had sympathy for the less fortunate. While they made money from their ridiculous ownerships of African and Asian sweatshops and organised crime gangs, people were out working in the bitter colds of the winters and the unbearable heats of the summers.
Personal preferences to people aside, I noticed a walnut door that was slightly ajar, allowing me to peer into what appeared to be some kind of study, however, as I nudged the hinges that carried the door further back, I realised it was more a library than just a simple workroom; after all, the Roberts would need something to occupy their time as the money rolled into bank accounts, some legal, others not so. I tip-toed around the large bookshelves, decorated with many colours of book spines, crimsons, musky browns, lively blues and so on.
“What are you doing here?” A voice, which certainly didn’t originate from Revinaire, spoke from behind me, snapping me back to my regular state.
“Ah, you must be the maid of the house. Miss, Bakr?”
“Yes, yes, who are you?”
“My name is Nina Greysworth, we have been sent to investigate the theft here,” I said with a slower tone for extra measure that she understood me. I didn’t mention the Saints, if she asked for a badege, I couldn’t present one anyway. We had to wait until the end of our evaluation to become one hundred percent legal.
“Oh yes, yes.”
“Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
“Er, I did no see much at all.”
“Hm, I understand, but what did you see?”
“Well, there was one thing weird.”
I lifted my head from my notepad and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, mister and misses Robert’s are in Spain at the moment, but, when I come out of parlour, I see the lady walking around, quite, how do you say... wrong?”
“Hmm, suspicious, and I can guess that when the woman left the home, you called her husband?”
“Yes, and he said “She’s right next to me at dinner, in Spain.”.”
“Right.” I scribbled down on the notepad my analysis of the situation, and called John with my telepathy.
Got a statement from the first-hand witness, meet me by the front door with whatever you’ve got.
“Thank you for your time. Tell me, miss, do you not feel like you could do better in life than to serve the owners of this place?”
“It earns money, and I need money. What other choices are there?”
“Well, surely it must feel like they treat you as an inferior, not as important as they are?”
“Maybe, but it does not matter anyway.”
“But you’re just giving them more time to run their corrupt organisations!”
A throat cleared behind me. I turned. “Nina, let’s go. Now,” John demanded, staring with what seemed like disgust.
“Thank you for your time” I repeated, then walked across to John.
“What was that back there?”
I shrugged my shoulders; I hated the world.
Take your time- hurry up, choice is yours don't be late Take a rest, as a friend, as an old memory.
~Me and the other two made our way to the house. It was small, but not very. Just big enough for a small family to live happily. A tiny strand of electricity snaked quickly through my hair. Breathe Zach, I told myself, this isn't about my family; stop thinking about it.
I normally would try to banish the serious look on my face, but honestly, in cases like this, what kind of face do you make? I can't just smile, I shouldn't look mad, at least not when I first. Pity is probably not what she needs right now; she needs empathy It almost makes me wish I had a mask too. Almost.
I made my face blank as we came to the door. I turned to the others; Smiley already said he didn't want to talk and Agra looked totally uninterested.
"I'll do the talking, ok?" I said. Turning back without any objection I knocked on the door.
I heard some scrambling from the inside and after a few silent moments a girl, barely my age, opened the door.
"Who are you?" her voice was barely above a whisper and was slightly shakey. She looked tired, afraid, and like she's been crying. Like a person who had been living a nightmare for too long and couldn't find the way out. I knew the feeling.
I mustered a half-smile; enough to show good intentions but not so much as to smother her with carelessness that would be foreign to her now.
"I'm Zach, this is Agra, and the scary guy with the mask is Martin." I would have joked about them but I doubted it would lighten the mood. "We're here to ask about what happened."
"And what makes you think you can do anything?" She didn't say it angerly or to offend; it was more like defeat, as if she'd given up hope. She stared at me with withdrawn and empty eyes.
"If you can tell us what you know, we will find who did this and bring him what he deserves," I stare into her eyes with sincerity. Even if this crime had nothing to do with other supers, I can't let the guy who did this get away with it. "I promise."
She paused, thinking it over, then stepped back opening the door slightly so we could come in.
We came in to a normal living room; two couches, a tv, some pictures on the wall. Doorways lead to the kitchen and to a hall where the doors to the bedrooms were. Typical home format.
"You can sit over here," she gestured to the bigger couch as she sat in the middle of it. She sat and crossed her arms over her chest. I sat down next to her, giving her some room.~
Spoiler
Sorry if it's not that good ^^'' If any of you need me to change anything just tell me, ok? ^u^
I am a Leaf on the Wind, Watch me Soar ~ Kyrie Eleison down the road that I must travel, Kyrie Eleison through darkness of the night
