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Found 532 results

  1. People, people, people. I want to announce here, as I will in multiple places, that I will be doing a concert for the victims of TBO. I'm arranging for a localization of the concert in San Diego, I'm paying for everything out of my own pocket and 100% of the gains from tickets and vendors will be going to TBO victims. I wanted to extend and invitation to anyone here who thinks they could help in a meaningful manner, be it by doing your own act, helping as a technician or even just making publicity. I wish all of you the best, and I hope some of you can answer me meaningfuly. Thank you.
  2. The sound of a dial tone could be heard on her end of the phone, Coyote from N!Prime had asked her to phone her directly, and after some digging, Ravenshire had her phone number. But now, here she stood infront of a her OpPhone, and was almost paralized, and had no idea why. Karrie looked like a very nice girl, but she was also friends with Primal, Jackal, Stonefish and White Widow from what she could read in the boards, and they were not nice people. On the other hand, during the beach party Karrie had been talking with Mech and there seemed to be no problem right there, maybe one shouldn't judge according to their friends. Alessa sighed and gave up, finally dialing Karrie's OpNumber, and waiting as the phone tried to connect.
  3. If you're in Kara's movie, I've opened threads for you. I'll give people a chance to post and interact before I jump ahead in time. Here's the rough schedule I pounded out: 0800 to 1000 - Kara and Mech shoot a scene at the mocked-up police department; Mech will be playing a beat cop who saw the Strangler, and is reporting that he's definitely a nova. 1000 to 1200 - **Stunt Scene** Kara, Pele, Bell and LB would be utilized on this on a building in Miami Beach; Pele, playing the Strangler, will be facing off with Kara; to escape capture, he leaps off a building, knowing that he'll survive the fall, but the cop he's holding hostage won't - I need LB and Bell to figure out who is who in the falling stunt 1200 to 1300 - Lunch break/setup for scene at house 1300 to 1400 - Scene between Kara and Mech where Kara's character gets called in and her fiancee is unhappy about it Meanwhile.... 1300 to 1800 - **Stunt scene** Everyone - Car chase with the Strangler; someone goes through plate glass and there are stunt driving scenes; Mech will be used as for bit parts throughout - Until Kara and Mech show up, it will be setup and a chance for people to work out the stunt difficulties Does this sound good to everyone? Dawn
  4. I'd like to play in these forums, but I'd like to grab one of those anime-style icons everyone has. How do I get one?
  5. Hello everyone. I'm Esmeralda "Emerald" Panadero. I'm from Venezuela, I am a bonded courier, and I'm really enjoying getting to see the world.
  6. Name: Cole Brodsky Nova Handle: Hero Player Name: James Dosher Concept: Selfless Do-gooder Nature: Visionary Affiliation: Independent Strength: 4 (Rugged) Dexterity: 5 (Nimble) Athletics-5 Martial Arts- 3 Stamina: 5 (Resilient) Endurance-(3) Resistance-(3) Perception: 5 (Observant) Awareness-5 Investigation- 1 Intelligence: 4 (Bright) Linguistics-1 Survival-3 Wits: 5 (Creative) Rapport-3 Appearance: 4 (Luminous) Manipulation: 5 (Witty) Streetwise -5 (*Information specialty) Subterfuge-3 Charisma: 5 (Charming) Willpower: 3 Quantum: 5 Taint: 3 Powers: Elemental Mastery -5 [Weak Nuclear Forces]/RQC(-3Duration) -(Blast, Imprison, Propel, Shield, Storm) Force Field – 5 (-5 Reduced Dice Pool) Telekinesis – 5 (-5 range reduction to touch) Mega-Attributes: None Backgrounds: Allies - 1 Contacts – 2 (street people) Cipher - 5 Eufiber – 5 Influence – 3 (this will develop in play) Mentor – 1 Resources- 1 Merits: None Flaws: None Description: A medium-gray eufiber suit with a white cross intersecting his nose and eyes (like the one depicted on pg. 99 of the basic book). Outside of his outfit, he is a man of average (5’ 10”) height, solid build, with black hair and brown eyes. Experience Points: Total/Unspent 48/18
  7. Hello there people! You know, this probably sounds shallow, but then again sometimes I'm shallow. So hey, I'm back and 90% complete, had some trouble in the dark continent, I'm actually stealing the Hospital's PC before I get a shot of the sleep medicine for my translation Madrid into a better hospital. Doctors say I will get better, huh I find it hard to believe...anyway, if any of you see Ravenshire. Tell him to give me a call, I want to discuss hazard payment.
  8. Has anyone else noted how the Halloween candy has gone away and the Christmas decorations have come out at the local retail outlets? So much for my last minute Halloween costume change.
  9. Riverdale, Georgia November 2, 2007 It was a quiet morning in the suburbs of Riverdale. Vincent stood outside of his home wrapped in a red robe and a coffee cup in hand. He had taken a sip of the black liquid then briefly scanned the homes lining the block. All were very modest two story homes fitting a white and brown color scheme. Even the lawns were spacious and well kept. Any sign of uniqueness on a property was expressed by variance of high priced vehicles parked in the weed free driveways. Vincent smiled with content, the neighborhood finally at peace after a hectic haloween night days before. He waited patiently in the shade of his porch as the sun slowly cooked his pavement. "Hurry up your mother is coming!" Vincent shouted. His voice carrying through the entry screen door behind him. In a few seconds time his teenaged children burst through the door. First his daughter then his son, both spitten images of Vincent. "Alissa, what are you doing wearing that, you go to school to learn, not advertise." Vincent says firmly as he looks over his daughter. Alissa's attire consisting of a pair of tight jeans and a tiny wifebeater that tells a gripping story about her development. "Mom let's me wear it, it's not like i'm walkin around naked, jesus christ dad" Alissa shot back at her father. Vincent grumbled then surveyed the attire of his son. Slacks, tucked in collared shirt, it was acceptable. "Evan could you knock some sense into your sister." Vincent takes another sip of his coffee. "Sure dad." Evan responded in a most respectful manner as he lifted the bridge of his glasses further on his nose. "Here comes mom!" Alissa shouted with glee as she pointed to the black tricked out escalade cruising down the block. She rushed to the end of the driveway anxious to leave. Vincent patted his son on the back and whispered to him."You keep an eye on her today okay?". Evan nodded in response then skulked to the end of the driveway. Finally Vincent stepped to the hot pavement walking on the edge of his feet to greet the approaching vehicle. The windows tinted, rolled down revealing the view of a very attractive latin woman whose beauty his hidden by gaudy sunglasses and heavey makeup. "Get in the truck kids i don't have all day." the woman snaps. Alissa excitedly enters the escalade, the rims still spinning. With his head down Evan gets in too. "Good morning Carmen, good to see you in high spirits" Vincent said sarcastically. "Vince don't even get me started this morning okay, you know the kids schedule for next week right, if you don't i'll have Benny email it to you." Carmen keeping the truck idle in the street. "You know i'm critical about that sort of thing Carmen, don't worry about it." Vincent sneaks a peek into the escalade. "You kids have fun this weekend, I love you." Alissa and Evan just mumble. "What are you planning on doing with the kids this weekend?" Vincent inquires. "Benny wants to give Alissa a shot in the studio and Evan wanted to see some kind of Jigsaw movie." Carmen fights the tempation to drum her manicured nails on the steering wheel. "Alissa in the studio." A look of dissapointment on Vincents face. "Carmen you are not going to turn our daughter to be some sex symbol in a music video." "Vince we are not having this conversation now, check your blackberry, i'll message you if there is a change in our schedule." Carmen quickly rolls up the window and drives off. Vincent stands there frustrated, his hand shaking, nearly a single drop of coffee onto his flawless driveway. He begins to walk back into the house, briefly adjusting a small red security sign near the steps of the porch that reads "Protected by RedWater." He smiles as he surveys the neighboring homes one last time ensuring that all are protected by Red Water. ((OOC: This is my very first IC post, and i'm very very rusty in my storytelling...please be gentle))
  10. Hapless Halloween {October 31st - November 1st , 2009} Church and Sanchez walked through the burned out ground. The ground sloped gently off to the north. The place would have been nice … before the fires and all the dead bodies. The two detectives weren’t alone. There were several Sheriff’s Deputies on hand. It was technically their jurisdiction, but these days cases were as much who had the capacity as jurisdiction. There were also a handful of onlookers, mostly people who had come up into the foothills to camp, or escape the grind in the city. The people here had died in one of three ways. There had been an explosion. Something had gone off in the center of these people’s camp. There had fire. Not only had the explosion set off a series of fires, but there had been a large bonfire in center of the camp before the explosion. Then there had been the gunshot wounds. This ruled out any form of accident as someone had not only shot some of the victims as they fled, several of the wounded were also executed. Church knelt over one of the victims. With a gloved hand he took a necklace off one of the gunshot victims – a young girl in her early twenties or late teens. It was a silver chain with a copper symbol. “Sanchez, do you recognized this?” He held it up for his partner to see. “Crap,” she ground out. “It’s a pentagram. That most likely means this was some sort of pagan meeting.” Sanchez looked down at the corpse closest to her with renewed distaste. Church looked at the symbol once more then back to Sanchez. “Is there a problem?” Sanchez shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time I figured a murder was good riddance to street trash. I hate this heathen filth with their fake faith and lying ways.” She looked at Church and saw the concern in his eyes. “I can still do my job”, she added. “Don’t worry about that. Just don’t expect me to have much sympathy for the victims. They’re roasting in hell now.” Her partner shrugged. As Church figured it, her personal beliefs were her own. As long as she could do the job, he would get by. A few minutes later, Church had begun to piece together what had happened, or at least some of it. “Eleven of the victims had been standing very close to bonfire when the explosion happened. The explosion was caused by a propane tank, valve open, had been tossed into the fire. Since none of those eleven looked like Olympic hurlers that meant one of those victims also threw the tank … suicide.” “Still, not all the eleven were dead though. That’s when number twelve opened up on the runners. Finally she comes back for the wounded and then,” he sighs, “she takes a bullet in the brain right here,” he adds kneeling beside the body and pointing out the wound. “That means were missing somebody.” “That makes sense,” Sanchez says. “Wicca covens usually have thirteen members and I’m betting we’re missing the high priestess. Let’s find the bitch and put her away for life.” Church bit his lower lip before saying, “I would like a motive of some kind.” “How about ‘she’s a crazy, apocalyptic crackpot who planned a little human sacrifice up here in the hills?’ Who really cares?” Church didn’t look convinced. Questioning the civilians didn’t help matters much. The first group that had happened on the scene was a group of Christian aid workers taking a Retreat up above the city for some religious solace. They were mostly young men and women from elsewhere who had come to the city to help out in the crisis. “Did you recognize them as pagans?” Sanchez asked the lead councilor. Some of his companions looked shocked and revolted. “We were just offering Christian charity to people in need,” the man responded calmly. “It doesn’t matter that they were confused, lost souls.” Sanchez nodded in agreement. Church broke into the conversation. “You didn’t let any of the people die, did you?” The man gazed at the detective with sad eyes. “No. That would have been wrong. They were the misguided ones. We know God’s Laws. Thou shall not kill. That means we also can’t just let people die either. The two we found alive when we got here were both bleeding badly. Our first aid training wasn’t enough.” Church nodded. “Did you see anyone leaving the scene?” he inquired. Several of the aid workers shook their heads. “We were over that ridge,” their leader motioned. “I must have taken us five minutes to get here in the dark … even with the flames.” Church looked off into the night sky. It would be dawn in a few hours, but there still wasn’t enough light coming from the city to provide enough light to see just were the councilor was pointing toward. His best guess as to how far it was away was just that – a guess. A few more questions followed, but they didn’t provide much more information. Crime Scene showed up finally and it was time for the detectives to leave. There were leads to run down like the identity of the victims and such. Had they known each other outside of their religious lives? Who was the priestess and were had she gone to? There didn’t seem to be many good answers forthcoming.
  11. Name: Esmeralda “Emerald” Pandadero Allegiance: Independent (Cartel) Nature: Traditionalist H/W: 5'9"/136lbs. Sex: Female Age: 24 Hair/Eyes: Black/Brown Strength - oooo(Athletic) Might - ooo Dexterity - ooooo(Flexible) Athletics – ooooo, Drive – o, Firearms – ooooo, Martial Arts – ooooo, Stealth - ooo Stamina - oooo(Tenacious) Endurance - (ooo), Resistance - (ooo) Perception - ooooo (Intuitive) Awareness – ooo, Investigation - ooo Intelligence - ooo Academics – ooo, Computer – o, Intrusion – ooo, Linguistics - ooo Wits - ooooo (Cunning) Appearance - oooo(Sensual) Intimidation – ooo, Style - ooo Manipulation - ooo Streetwise – ooo, Subterfuge - ooo Charisma - ooo Etiquette - ooo Quantum: oooo Taint: oo Willpower: ooooo ooo Attunement: ooooo Backing (Cartel): oooo Cipher: oooo Eufiber: ooooo Influence: oooo Resources: ooooo Claws - ooooo (Kinetic Discharge/ -5 Duration) Intuition - o Teleport - ooooo (Combat Teleport/RQC/-3 Dice) Merits: Ambidextrous Internal Compass Sexy Flaws: Secret (Cartel Assassin) Enemy (Weaker Than/Humiliate) XP: Total/Unspent 32/4 (June '08)
  12. Real Name: Vincent Carter Nova Name: Death Trap Nature: Architect Place of Birth: Atlanta, GA Age: 33 Marital Status: Single, Recently Divorced Allegiance: Independant Occupation: Security Consultant Hair: Dark Brown Eyes: Dark Brown Height: 6' Weight: 190 lbs. Race: Mixed Hispanic/African American Brief Background: Vincent is ex military, straight out of high school he enlisted in the United States Army and worked as Ground Surveillance Systems Operator for 6 years. During this time he acquired a Bachelor's Degree in Security and Risk Analysis. Vincent has now since seperated from the military and currently has many years invested in the security firm Red Water working as a home security consultant. He's recently divorced and has shared custody of his two children. Eruption: Tortured Current: Vincent expands his wallet by offering his services to Novas yet tries to retain a normal baseline life. Known Quantum Powers: He's smart and tough. A genius, Death Trap is credited to producing intricate security plans that protect the homes and valuables of Novas (and baselines) from other Novas. Strength:ooo Dexterity:ooo Stamina:ooo Charisma:ooo Manipulation:ooo Appearance:oo Perception:ooooo(Observant) Intelligence:oooo (Discerning) Wits:oooo (Clever) Endurance:oooo - Resistance:oooo - Athletics:o Firearms:oo - Stealth:o - Awareness:oo Investigation:ooo - Academics:oo - Computer:oo Engineering:ooo - Intrustion:oooo - Survival:o Rapport:oo - Streetwise:oo - Etiquette:oo Willpower: 7 - Quantum: 2 Resources: oooo(Security Consultant) Allies: ooo (Security Firm Employees) Contact: oo (Beat Cop, EMT) Node:o Dormancy:ooo Mega Attributes: MegaStamina-ooo (Adaptability, Resiliency, Regeneration) MegaIntelligence-oo (Analyze Weakness)
  13. Albert Einstein Hospital, Philadelphia, PA - 07/09/09 - 06:12 PM It was just shy of a week that Brittany finally woke up. Doctors worked on her tirelessly for the first few days, sewing muscles, fusing bones, stitching organs. After an exhaustive battery of surgical procedures, they finished with a chaser of mox and morphine, they hoped enough to keep her sedated until her body recovered from the shock of trauma. There'd be no permanent damage, largely thanks to her nova physiology. The mutual consent was that if she wasn't, she'd be dead. The slow, metronomic beeping of a heart monitor was the first thing she was conscious of. She'd dreamed over the last several days, dreamed deeply, of what she couldn't remember, but as her eyes first groggily stumbled open, she first had the unmistakable impression that she was waking up at home in Virginia, and that all that had happened between then and now was all a part of some distant, hazy dream. Morphine was doing its part to cloud her senses, mercifully. As the foggy ghosts of her dreams seemed to fade into the distance, the memory of her life loped closer, and as her senses gathered into a cohesive picture, she remembered, dopily, that she wasn't just little Brit Brown, but LiberTeen, nova. She inhaled, remembering with the sort of childlike, blissful detachment only people on strong opiates know well. She poked her head around, lying in place, with the sort of disinterested intrigue of a window shopper. Unflappably, she took note of the hospital bed, the light blue gown she was dressed in, the plain bureau with the plasic bouquet sitting on it. The shades were drawn, and dim light peeked out behind them. It was dusk or overcast. "Oh, dear", she thought to herself, yawning with satisfaction. "I wonder why I'm here?" In fact, the events of her last moments of wakefulness had, for the time, vacated from her mind, and the events before it stretched on like ground that only became solid the further back one went, little islands of memory drowned in a sea of mnemonic static, all of which she regarded with blissful and uncaring ignorance. "Mmmm", she mused, nestling into her hospital bed. "Sure is comfy..." She yawned, and within a few moments, returned to a peaceful, natural, and wholly innocent slumber.
  14. It was another sucky day to be wearing a vest. It was hot and uncomfortable … and totally necessary. Church and his new partner, Detective Sanchez, were responding to reports of a shooting down by one of the aid stations. Both policemen had the sinking feeling this was another gang related. The gangs were getting more organized and more deadly, especially in the heart of the LA Disaster Zone. Sanchez had come from the Pasadena PD. She lived in Westmont and her commute had become impossible despite the so-called improvements they had made to the transportation network. Pasadena hadn’t wanted to give her up. Southwest needed her. Scarcity in Los Angeles bred its own kind of compromises. They rode in silence. This was Sanchez’s first time out, but she had the same kind of deep fatigue that all LA Law Enforcement were feeling this long after TBO … the Big One. Little or no time off, impossible caseloads, and too little hope made for a bone weariness that was hard to shake. The misery around here was ever-present. Everyone struggled to get by day to day. The gangs were only making things worse. Three bodies lay on the sidewalk next to the food station. A sheriff’s deputy was standing over the bodies. As they pulled up, Sanchez turned to Church and smiled. “Congratulations are in order.” “Huh? For making it here?” “No. For making detective. You paperwork came down last night. That’s why you were partnered up with me.” “I’m stunned,” Church said, still disbelieving. “It’s a miracle the promotion came through. I figured the quake would have buried all of this for many more months, if not the year.” “Well, you are detective Church now. You need to get some real clothes for you, but pay increase starts immediately.” Church snorted. The pay would mostly be in money, which was almost worthless, and not in chits for food, fuel, and shelter. They walked over to the bodies. It was Sanchez’s first day with the LAPD, but Church’s first time out as a detective. Sanchez took lead. She approached the Deputy and got his story while Church bent down to examine the bodies. The bodies – a man around twenty with gang tattoos, a woman in her late fifties, and a boy no older than twelve – suffered from multiple gunshot wounds. Preliminary examination suggested an automatic – 9mm and one shooter. Any more information would have to wait on CSI and the ME, neither of which would be here for hours. It took about an hour for the first major lead to come up. One of the refugees, who didn’t know any better, told Sanchez he had seen some interesting gang tattoos on the arm of the car’s driver. In normal times, this would have earned the man protective custody. In these days the best they could do was put him in the back of their car and drive him back to the station. The reality that was slowly revealing itself was that MS13 was moving in against the Los Lobos. The Lobos had burned themselves fighting with the PD on several fronts and were weak. MS was coming in to wipe out the competition in this area and take over. The problem is, LL was like the flu. MS13 was the plague.
  15. Daniel’s speech was clear and perfunctory. “Cote d’Ivoire, or Ivory Coast as its more commonly known, is coming out of a prolonged civil war and now is the opportunity for new foreign investments to step in and help rebuild. Our interests on this trip will be in the fledgling diamond industry. We need to get someone in on the ground to make sure this is a good place to place our bets.” He licked his lips. It was more out of concern than any physical discomfort. Ravenshire was still unsure about sending Robert on this run across the Atlantic. What swayed his opinion was his partner’s constant desire to ‘pull his own weight’, no matter how much work he was already putting in. Daniel now knew that Robert’s special talents didn’t lie in finance, but he was a hard worker. Better than that, Robert was constantly trying to improve and prove himself. That was enough to impress Daniel Ravenshire. Too many novas were willing to coast on their genetic birthright and leave the real work for ‘flunkies’. “Our problem and advantage is that our area of interest is a district in the Northwestern part of the country – right in the middle of former rebel territory. That means armed gangs are still prowling the area, the local infrastructure is a decade out of date, and any localized skilled workforce could be sketchy. Add to that, it’s the middle of summer in the tropical highlands, so pack plenty of clothes that breathe.” “On the plus side, the UN brokered peace plan is holding and the area has a history of middle class development and a skilled populace. Before the initial coup in ’99, the country was the top non-oil performer in West Africa. There is a lot of potential there.” “Now, if you are sure you want to take this vacation trip,” Daniel joked, “there isn’t much I can say except stay safe and remember, we are just eye-balling a series of companies for our investment partners, not saving the country. That can come later. You’ve got all the data I was able to beg, borrow, or steal. This is your chance to show everyone what a nova consulting company is all about … and above all, stay safe.” Sure, he kept telling Robert to stay safe, but he meant it. There was huge potential for profits on this mission, but that went hand and hand with a jumbo jet sized load of risk. Daniel really wished he knew just what it was that Robert did. Maybe it would have made him feel safer … and then maybe it wouldn’t have.
  16. Anyone getting any word on how bad it is in Southern Califonia? So far, I haven't been able to get in touch with anyone south San Jose. This one sounds pretty bad.
  17. "What has been lost was never possible to keep in the first place." ~Laura Teresa Marquez Mitzi hummed softly as she walked through the upstairs of her house, a laundry basket in her hands. Her kids were normally quite good about making sure that their clothes landed in the hamper, but they weren't perfect. Justin was the worst, despite being the oldest, or maybe because he was fifteen. "You're an aggravation, son," Mitzi sighed when she looked in his room and found clothes all over his floor. "I just cleaned this up yesterday!" She also knew that most of the clothes would be clean; Justin had a bad habit of trying on shirts and rejecting them by tossing them on the ground. However, they were on the floor now, and Mitzi knew that she was going to clean them again anyway, because they'd been on the floor. It was a fault that she was so anal, though Numeer didn't mind; it aided her well in her wifely duties. Giggling to herself, Mitzi wondered when he'd find the note she'd hidden in his briefcase. She occassionally left him a love note; he loved finding them unexpectedly, and she loved the smile on his dark face when he came home and kissed her for it. Flipping her blonde hair back over her shoulder, Mitzi began to stuff Justin's clothing into the basket, half-focused on the delight of her husband while her more practical half ran down her list of duties for the day. Laundry and cleaning in the morning. Meet with Barb for lunch to discuss Tima's costume in the Winter Play. Pick up Delia and Dawson from school at three to take them to their piano lessons. Tima needs picked up from soccor practice at four; I need to call just before to make sure Justin's home ok. I wish he'd get involved in something extra-curricular; he needs some activities to get into Harvard. Maybe yearbook - he likes taking pictures- Mitzi's line of thought was broken when she snatched up one of Justin's shirts and a magazine fell out. "What is- God, Justin! You're a slob!" she grumped as she picked up the magazine, glanced at the cover and tossed it on the bed. She stopped a second later, frowning. Slowly, she walked over to the bed, turning her head, taking another long look at the cover. Two men in leather graced the cover; Mitzi's heart sank as she opened the magazine and took a look inside. She had to know, if this is what she thought it was. She flipped through the pages slowly, tears building in her eyes. The laundry basket slipped off her hip and her hand released it; Mitzi ignored it as it bounced over the floor, spilling dirty clothing across her floor. "Oh, Justin," she whispered just before she burst into sobs and fled his room. * * * Numeer's voice was not filling her with calm. Nothing was, not the two hours of crying, not her shower and not the knowledge that she had to meet Barb soon and pretend everything was fine. Her Justin, her baby wasn't perfect. "He won't marry a girl now, Numeer, he won't!" she cried into the phone, resting her head against the wall. She was sitting on the stairs, the sensation of wrapping her fingers around the banister comforting. "Darling," her husband said, his voice soft but firm, "I'm sure that Justin has a reason for this. And even if he doesn't, even if he's gay, that's not the end of his life. It just means something different." "I don't want different! I want my two daughter-in-laws, not one with three son-in-laws!" Mitzi cried. "I just want Justin to be the same." "He is, my sunlight, he is," Numeer advised. "Have faith in our son." "I just... how does this happen?" Mitzi asked, rubbing her eyes. She was going to look wretched for Barb, and the nosy bitch would want to know why. "Usually, the genetics pass from the mother," Numeer said. "Oh, god. It's my fault?" Mitzi asked, feeling her heart break more, somehow. "No, no... please, Mitzi, I must get to class. Please calm yourself. Justin does not need you to be worked up when he gets home," Numeer sighed. "I love you. Please be calm so that you can a good mother for our son." Miserable, Mitzi could only nod; there was nothing that she could think of that was a good argument against her husband.
  18. Despite what appeared to happen during Redneck Night at the Bath House on October 18, 2009, Caramel has not been kidnapped. She is safe this morning, and unharmed. The nova who teleported her out of the building without warning was an old friend, and he was playing a little prank. It was all done in harmless fun, and both he and Caramel apologize for any concerns or fears this may have caused Caramel's loyal fans. Redneck Night will be rescheduled at the Augusta Boys' earliest convienence, and the cover charge for that night will be reduced to cover expenses only. We hope to see you all here at the Bath House again. ~Dexter Webmaster
  19. All complains and questions will be answered here. =D I hope I get more than one feedback post XD
  20. Real Name: Kylie Rachel Durham Nicknames: Aura Place of birth: Arlen, TX Age: 25 Marital Status: Single (rumors of a boyfriend are unsubstaniated) Known Relatives: Father, Mother, Brother, and adopted sister (born in USSR, nationalized in 2000) Allegiance: Project Utopia Eruption: Radiation Exposure Height: 5’ 4” Weight: 104 lbs. Eyes: Light brown Hair: Brown Known Quantum Abilities: Aura can transform her body into Roentgenium and is currently the only known source of stable Roentgenium outside of the laboratory. Scientists are still uncertain how she manages this, but it is clear that her powers are expanding. While most of her "powers" derive from the composition of her body, she has recently learned to shoot a quantum-borne bolt of radiation from her hands. Known History: Aura grew up in a small town in Texas. Her life was fairly mundane, with her only major accomplishment being her employment by Project Utopia's Chemical Research and Development branch. She was working on the effects of radiation on eufiber when a laboratory accident caused her to erupt. Update: Aura's employment with Project Utopia ended suddenly in August of 2009. Her contract with them was not up, and not long after, she was implicated in the creation of narcotics by the Italian police. Since then, Aura has been on the run from the authorities, popping up in a new location every few months.
  21. October 12, 2009, 9:46 a.m. Novas shouldn't live this way. Novas shouldn't be scrapping a living by making drugs to sell on street corners for desperate addicts, and they shouldn't live in hovels in Germany. But here she was. Kylie sighed and shoved herself away from the table in her 'lab,' though honestly it was just the second bedroom in the apartment she'd managed to arrange when she'd arrived in Germany last month. And thinking of how long she'd been here reminded her that it was time to move on; the Project was always right behind her, and Aura had no intention of rotting in Bahrain. With a sigh, Aura walked out into the rest of her small apartment, looking around at the life she'd built here. Decaying furniture, given an extended lease on life by baling wire or duct tape, sparsely occupied the dirty room. It was by far the best place she'd stayed since going on the run, and she was a little surprised to realize she'd miss it. That was not quite true. She'd actually miss the stability, the simple joy of having a room to come home to, of having a place to relax. She missed Gabe. She wished that she dared to contact him, but she couldn't risk his life and well-being; if the Project thought he knew something, they might question him. The truth that she couldn't admit to herself was that she didn't want him to know what she'd done. She knew he wouldn't understand, and if she wasn't there to explain herself, the Project would turn him against her. Suddenly, her room seemed constrictive, and Kylie grabbed her jacket and headed out the door. She needed to do something other than think about Gabe; she really needed to plan where she was going next, and how to get there without leaving a paper trail. Maybe some walking around Berlin's seedier areas of town would clear her head, give her a new perspective, and a new desire to keep going. Because she was tired of all this; she wanted her old life back. With a sigh, she headed out into the cool German morning.
  22. This fiction is designed to show Kara's family life, as well as wrap up the Ramm arc It will span a couple of weeks, so please be patient; I plan to post things on the day that they happen, more or less. I've worked on this for months, and I'd appreciate any feedback, so long as it's constructive. Thanks in advance for any thoughts or opinions.
  23. [Note: This fiction contains violence and mature themes of varying sorts. You have been warned.] October 6, 2009 Kara stretched slowly, letting the tensions of the day flow off her body. The hot water and bubbles were doing a magnificent job of easing the ache from today’s rough adventure; if she hadn’t had the ability to regenerate, she would have been in a world of hurt. Climbing over piles of junk to find a body match to the car that was being blown up in scene three had been harder and more hazardous than she’d thought, but it had been worth it just to find the right car-shaped piece of fiberglass. Next time, I’m totally hiring someone else to do this, she sighed. Right now, money was tight until they were sure that the investors were going to come though. And every penny saved by doing a lot of the work herself was a penny that could be put toward something onscreen, something beautiful or harrowing. With an effort, she stopped the obsessive thoughts; time enough to get back to work tomorrow. Slipping lower in the water, the beautiful nova allowed her mind to start to drift lazily and consider nothing. ,,A tap at her bathroom door chased away the warm fuzzy nothingness in her head, and Kara sat up a little. “Who is it?” Her power rippled below her skin, ready to burst forth with claw and fur. ,,“It’s ‘Denia. Can I come in?” ,,Kara frowned. Her cousin only came over when Kara needed her hair or makeup done and Kara was pretty sure she didn’t have anything happening tonight. Well, nothing save another pass over the files about Ramm or obsessively reviewing the script again. “Sure, sugar,” she called settling back into the tub, unmindful of her nudity. Gardenia had helped her to dress many times, and there was no reason to be modest now. ,,Her cousin came in, her round, happy face set in sad lines. Gardenia never frowned; it wasn’t in her nature to let anything but the most serious of issues get her down. “‘Denia, sugar, what’s wrong?” Kara asked, sitting straight up with a slosh of water. ,,“I just heard from Harbin,” Gardenia said softly as she sat on the closed toilet seat. ,,“My brother?” Kara clarified uneasily. This was family crap, and it had a way of biting her in the ass, when it didn’t break her heart. ,,“Yeah,” Gardenia said. “He said Claudia Marie is in trouble.” ,,Kara’s stomach sank. Claudia was her brother’s thirteen year old daughter, and was the darling of that generation, rather like Kara had been the darling of her generation. Claudia had inherited the severe beauty that was common in the women of the family; Kara did not have it, which was a point of alienation. But despite her stern appearance, Claudia was a sweet, gentle girl who did well in school. “What kind of trouble?” ,,Gardenia looked her straight in the eye and said, “The kind of trouble you got into in Miami.” ,,Kara rubbed her forehead. “Mom must love that. How bad is it?” ,,“Yeah, Aunt Anaïs wasn’t very happy,” Gardenia sighed. “Harbin says she’s pregnant.” ,,“Oh, shit,” Kara said, with true feeling, stopping the gentle movements of her hands in the steaming water. ,,“Yeah, really,” Gardenia answered with just as much feeling. ,,The two women sat in silence for a moment, thinking separate unhappy thoughts. “Why’d Harbin call you?” Kara said, raising her head suddenly. “I mean…” ,,“He… wants me to ask you something,” Gardenia mumbled softly. ,,Kara’s golden eyes narrowed, suspicion clear on her features. “What?” ,,“He wants you to talk to her.” Gardenia swallowed hard and added, “He wants to you convince her to have it.” ,,“Oh, god,” Kara nearly shouted, rolling her eyes. “How can he ask me that?! He knows I’m pro-choice!” ,,“Don’t do it,” Gardenia said, her voice low and intent. Kara felt a flare of happiness as she realized that her cousin was picking her side over the rest of the family. “Just tell him to deal with it.” ,,As much as she wanted to take Gardenia’s advice, she had other obligations. Kara laughed bitterly. “He’s my family, my brother. I can’t just say no. I should try to help.” But the question was, who to help? Her brother? Or her thirteen year old niece? ,,* * *,,Kara watched the District roll by outside her window, a pensive frown on her face as she tried not to think of all the work she wasn’t getting done, or the mess she was rolling toward. Her beautiful body was hidden under a baggy grey hoodie and thick sweatpants; the hood was pulled up over her head and the sunglasses left only her lower face visible. Rashard was out of his suit; he was wearing black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He wasn’t as recognizable as she was and that meant he didn’t have to hide quite as actively as she did. ,,They turned off the main road into the narrow streets, moving toward the residential areas of the city. Large buildings melted into separate houses with familiar accents and yards. Almost there. The thought was thick with tension. ,,It came too fast. The SUV turned a corner, they passed the yellow house, and there was the familiar white-sided building. The house was a medium-sized affair with a long wrap-around porch. The lawn was well-kept with several nice flower beds and trimmed shrubs. Rashard stopped the car and glanced at her. “I’ll come if you call.” ,,Kara was regretting her decision to have him stay in a hotel. She’d be alone with her family, which wasn’t all bad. But it certainly wasn’t anything resembling good, either. “Sure, sugar,” she said with a smile she didn’t feel. “I’ll call.” She badly wanted him around. But he was her bodyguard, not her heartguard, and only got paid enough to take a bullet. He didn’t get paid enough to clean up her emotional messes. With her chin high, she stepped out of the SUV, grabbed her bag from the backseat, and headed up the walk. ,,This was only the second time she’d been to the house. It was hers, in her name, but she didn’t feel comfortable with just walking into it. Her mother and father had lived here for a year or so now, and it was their home, even if she paid for everything. They wouldn’t let her just give it to them; they had always been proud. So they ‘took care of it’ for her. They’d complained about her buying a house if she was remaining in Miami, but they seemed to pretend to accept her reasoning that it was her dream house, the place where she would spend her retirement. And after they’d been hounded by her fans in their last home, it was the least she could do. ,,The door opened at her knock, and her father was frowning down at her. Joseph’s frown melted away at the sight of Kara, and he shouted in the musical tones of Creole, “Anaïs! It’s Kara! Kara’s home!” Then he snatched her up in a hug, his dark face falling into his laugh lines as if it belonged there. And it usually did; Kara remembered Joseph smiling far more than frowning. ,,Kara found herself laughing as her father embraced her joyously. “Hi, Papa,” she murmured into his neck as she hugged him tight. ,,“Ahh, my big girl’s home,” he said, his voice thick, and Kara realized he was crying. ,,“Papa,” Kara sighed, slipping into the language herself as she felt tears sting her eyes, “don’t.” ,,“It’s been so long since you came home,” he answered, putting her down and moving away. “Your mother’s in the kitchen.” ,,“Mmm.” Good call, Papa. That will take away the excess warm fuzzies. ,,“She’s missed you,” her father said, catching her by the arm. “Don’t let her fool you.” He gave her another hug. “Go.” ,,Her mother missed her? Things had changed. ,,Anaïs was in the kitchen, humming. Kara stopped to look at her mother, at her tall frame just starting to soften with age. She was wearing her usual red and blue clothing, as part of her devotion of Erzulie Dantor. “Maman?” she called, then sighed when her mother didn’t turn. “Are you ignoring me?” Still no acknowledgement as Anaïs worked at her cutting board. Kara silently prayed that she wasn’t cooking dinner. ,,Her father slipped past her and stepped up behind Anaïs. Reaching for her ears, he pulled the unseen earbuds out of them and said, “Honey, someone’s here.” ,,Anaïs started, then turned. So many emotions ran across her face, but Anaïs turned back to the cutting board and said, “Kara, you can stay in the guest room. Joseph, can you show her?” ,,So much for a warm welcome. ,,* * *,,Grown women don’t hide in their rooms, but Kara was tempted. She managed to delay things by taking a shower and then spending an hour with unnecessary primping. But finally, she had to leave and go downstairs. ,,“Papa? Maman? Anyone?” Kara called out hopefully. She almost called in English, but if Anaïs were there, she wouldn’t answer. It was a second language for her, and she still had trouble with it, mostly from a lack of practice. Attempts to make the matriarch speak English had been destroyed with icy stares. ,,But it wasn’t Maman who answered her. “In here!” ,,Kara smiled and followed her father’s voice into the kitchen again. She stopped to watch him for a moment, smiling at his tall, strong body and the fluffy fringe of dark silver hair circling the sides of his head. This time, he was the one at the cutting block, but Kara was sure that whatever he was cutting was actually for dinner instead of for devotions. Her mother, like all of the B’nath woman, was terrible a cook. Thankfully, Joseph was not. The rough, calloused hands that laid brick all week gently turned the pepper he was slicing as he said, “Your maman is at the peristyle, doudou.” ,,It was nice to hear him call her sweetheart again, even if Maman was being bitchy. “All the better to avoid me, huh?” Kara said, snatching up an apple and biting into it. ,,Joseph grabbed back the apple and began to cut it, expertly slicing out her bite. “Your maman is just like you,” he grunted irritably as he grabbed another apple from the pile. “She would cut off her own nose to spite you. Neither of you will admit when you’re being petulant. Both of you are beautiful woman who act like ugly children. You went to great lengths to avoid admitting when you were wrong, doudou. But you could – and can still – come home if you wished, and not just when there’s trouble.” ,,Kara sighed. “What am I supposed to do, Papa? She’s the one who is angry with me. I thought papas were supposed to be tense about things like this, with mamans being the ones who were forgiving.” ,,“She said one thing, now to retract it… it is hard for her,” Joseph said. He passed her a sliver of apple, smiling as she chomped on it with relish. “Hungry, doudou?” ,,“Yeah, Papa, I’m a nova,” Kara laughed. “We’re hungry lots.” ,,“Good for you then that I like to cook,” he laughed, sweeping the chopped fruit into a pan and setting it on the stove to simmer. When he straightened up, the smell of warming cinnamon was slowly seeping through the room. He grew very serious for a moment. “Kara, I think that I can handle it better because I’m not a hougan, and because you’re not my blood daughter.” ,,Kara shrugged. “I didn’t consider that because you’ve always treated me so well,” she admitted. “I mean, you think you disciplined me less?” ,,Joseph reached out and cupped her cheek with his rough hands. “I know you are my favorite of my children,” he said with a gentle smile. Kara would have believed that, too, had she not overheard Joseph tell Anaïs that he privately told each child that. After a warm moment, he dropped his hand. “So, you’re helping Harbin out?” ,,“Ugh, I know that I should, as a good sister, but he’s asking to me to do something that I don’t believe is right,” Kara said softly. ,,“You know what family and children mean,” Joseph answered evenly. ,,“Yes, I know damned well how important it is to pop out spawn,” Kara said, tying to remain calm. “But, Papa, she’s thirteen! I mean, do we even know who the father is?” ,,Joseph shook his head. “Non, she says she can’t remember.” ,,“Claudia can’t remember the man that knocked her up?” Kara shook her head. “I thought she was smart enough to come up with a better story than that.” ,,“She’s young, she’s scared,” Joseph said with an elegant shrug. “It makes for stupid thoughts. Well, anyway, your brother and his family are coming for dinner, so you can talk to him then.”
  24. By now, I'm sure many of you have already seen, but some promo photographs were released for my picture yesterday. Yes, they look unfinished (ie, no text or information on them), and no, they weren't supposed to be released yet. Still, I'd like you to enjoy them. We'll have to reshoot them closer to the time for release, and we'll have to come up with new shoots, so any feedback you have would be marvelous. Gallery of Strangle shots
  25. Birth Name: Ria Ravensbourne Legal Status: Citizen of Australia and Sweden with no criminal record Marital Status: Single Date of Birth: None of your business. Residence: Wherever I'm staying at the moment. Height: 5'11" Weight: 130lbs. Hair: Brownish-Blonde Eyes: Brown Occupation: None at present Place of Birth: Sydney, Australia Known Relatives: Neil Ravensbourne, father (alive); Sarah Ravensbourne (alive) Group Affiliation: Australian Pagan Awareness Network, Valhalla Riders Motorbike Club, Amnesty International, Assembly of the Elder Troth, Heathens Against Hate, Asatru Alliance, Alternative Religions Education Network, Circle Sanctuary, Lady Liberty League Heroes: Anybody with the courage to stand for themselves and others, regardless of their personal beliefs. This includes the Ragnarockette (whom I've actually met), LiberTeen (whom I haven't met, and while I mightn't share her sexual politics/preferences, I admire her conviction), Caestus Pax and the late, lamented Slider (for whom I'm sure there's a place in Valhalla). Likes: Honda Valkyries, rock music, my family, annoying intolerant members of organised religions, the Valhalla Riders, the Amp Room Dislikes: Tyranny, apathy, oppression, narrow-mindedness, moral absolutism, angst, racism, sexism, hidden motives, poor hygiene. ;\)* *Directly quoted from LiberTeen's profile. She sums it up so well. Goals: To show the world that followers of Asatru aren't all Neo-Nazi skinhead morons with issues against our pagan brothers and sisters. History: Ria Ravensbourne is one of those racial mixtures which can only occur in a multicultural nation like Australia: her mother was a part-Maori woman named Sarah who worked at a Harley and Davidson shop, and her father Neil was Swedish on his mother’s side and a member of the Odin’s Warriors’ subsidiary club the Valhalla Riders, a group of Asatru bikers (as opposed to the criminal bikies) who travelled along the East Coast of Australia. Growing up in the biker and Asatru subcultures, she lived in various suburbs in Campbelltown in Sydney’s west, but her parents managed to keep her schooling stable during both primary and high school – in fact, she completed Year Twelve and went on to study overseas at her father’s alma mater of Stockholm University after three years of backpacking in Europe, completing a Masters in Linguistics with a specialty in the history of the Scandinavian languages. On returning home to Australia in 2008 at the age of twenty-three, her father tried to keep her out of the Valhalla Riders for her own safety – things had heated up between the Odin’s Warriors and their old enemies the Finks, and the Riders were getting caught in the middle as both outlaw bikie clubs fought over the ice and speed trade in western Sydney. Unfortunately for everyone, the Finks hit on the idea of ‘persuading’ Neil, as a senior member of the Riders, to switch sides by attempting to mug Ria and Sarah as they were in the car park of Macarthur Square Shopping Centre in August of 2009. Things got ugly after Ria suggested some highly improbable sexual acts involving the two Finks and their motorbikes, angering them into drawing their guns. When one put a gun to Sarah’s head, Ria erupted, reacting quickly enough to telekinetically throw the gun several metres away. A force field snapped around her body as his friend fired until she took that weapon off him. She then picked up her mother and flew away to the Valhalla Riders’ clubhouse, where she remained until a Project Utopian intervention team arrived, including the Ragnarockette to counter any telekinetic problems involving the new nova. Much to everyone’s surprise, Ria was cooperative and even friendly to the team, accompanying them back to the Rashoud facility in Sydney proper and remaining there for the full training term. The only time she got testy was when one of the Utopian bureaucrats hinted that she was involved in criminal activities by dint of her background; he quickly reversed his attitude when she started to lift small objects in agitation. Just completing her term at the Rashoud clinic, Ria’s been let loose on the world with telekinetic powers. She’s currently flush with money due to a finished ad campaign for the ultra-light 2009 Honda Valkyrie motorcycle, and can be seen in a lot of places when she wishes to be. (Incidentally, she owns one of the Valkyries). Description: Ria lacks superhuman good looks, but her flawless olive skin and statuesque figure certainly draw the eye; her colouring is a quixotic mix of brownish-blonde hair and chocolate-brown eyes. Dressing to kill in an eclectic mix of biker leathers, punk and smart casual, she proudly shows off her full-length sleeve of black tribal and Nordic designs on her right arm. She is never far from her black, silver and pearl Honda Valkyrie.