Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'Trinity Universe'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Discussion
    • Role Playing Games (RPG)
    • Role Playing News
    • Trinity Continuum RPG
    • Card, Board & Video Games
    • Movies, TV, Books & Music
    • General Discussion
  • Games Archive
    • Play By Post Games Archives
  • Scion: Modern Mythology's Topics
  • World of Darkness: The Chosen's Topics
  • WEIRDER STUFF's Topics
  • Shadowrun 5E: N!Prime Runners's Topics

Categories

  • Trinity Continuum
  • Trinity Universe (Original Game Versions)
    • Trinity
    • Aberrant
    • Adventure
  • Other Games

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


AIM


MSN


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Jabber


Skype


Location:


Interests

  1. Note Once I open the thread, others can join in at their discretion. July 1, 2013 1:30 am Japan Standard Time Tokyo University Hospital, Nova Medicine Ward ,, It was a rough delivery. Naomi had been struggling for four days without rest. Each child from her was a war against herself. A body is not designed to carry so many for a full term, and it took more and more for her to deliver each child. Then after her last child came out and the umbilical was cut, she dormed, her quantum energy utterly spent. The sound of blood and afterbirth hitting the floor sent the doctors into a scurry as Naomi let out a horrifying scream. For a few moments, they thought they could save her. But a quick scan with a portable MRI told the story... her internal bleeding was not healing, her organs had minor ruptures from the sudden change back to human. She only had minutes left... only moments. ,, A nurse came to Ryu who had heard the scream. ,, "Mister Hideyoshi, you need to see your wife... I'm... sorry... but you only have a few minutes now... maybe less."
  2. Name: Ivan Vandal (Ivanovich Vandalenska) Aliases Used: Frostbite, Steve Varner D.O.B.: Unknown (looks to be 32-35) Place of Birth: Vladivostock, Russia Gender: Male Color Eyes: Cerulean Blue Color Hair: Bald Height: 5'11" Weight: 220 lbs Race: Caucasian Marital Status: Not married Citizenship: Russian ,, Appearance & Distinctive Features: Ivan is a heavily scarred individual, his face appears to have claw-mark scars down his face. His piercing blue eyes are the most distinctive thing about him beyond the scarring. He is well-built and looks to keep himself in good athletic shape. ,, Personality: Ivan is very well known for possessing an icy demeanor to match his blue eyes. His demeanor is often remarked on as being reptilian, often watching and observing situations before engaging in them. He is not quick to anger, nor often quick to laugh - though he smiles often, or perhaps he's just showing teeth. Charming is not a term often used for this man. ,, Known Powers: Ivan has been documented with the abilities to shift his physical form into that of a large icelike humanoid. In this form he is a veritable wrecking machine, possessing ice-shard blasts, long jagged claws, and appearing heavily armored by the dense ice-form he adopts. He can withstand immense amounts of damage, often shrugging it off with little effect. ,, Verifiable History: A well-known safe-cracker in his home city, Ivan was utilized frequently by the Russian mafia to boost safes. In his human life, he lived very well-off and drove expensive cars. He was unaware that living the lifestyle he believed he should would become a danger to his life, and the same people that hired him regularly would be the ones to decide to end his life. ,, Ivan lived the fast life, possessing money, women, cars, homes, and power through his affiliation with the mafia. His fast living came to an abrupt and hard stop when he was asked to crack a safe containing some of the jewels worn by the Romanovs. While the man didn't possess much in the way of morality and decency, he did hold his heritage near and dear to his heart. He politely refused, and on the surface it seemed like there wasn't an issue. A few weeks passed uneventfully, until the fateful day he was pulled from his bed, handcuffed and beaten unconscious. ,, Waking in a large meat locker, Ivan quickly realized what was going on - especially when he noted the numerous faces he'd worked with in the past. Demands were made, threats on his life and person were levied, and then when he continued to refuse - his wrists were slit and two attack dogs were locked in the freezer with him. When the lights went out in the freezer, all hell broke loose. That night, Ivan Vandal died...or was born...or reborn... ,, Enemies: Without question - the Russian Mafia is his biggest threat and enemy. Their fingers are everywhere and in everything, regardless of location on the globe. Ivan is constantly looking over his shoulder, though less-so now that he's been rebirthed, and yet the paranoid of the night in the meat-locker helps him to stay alert and vigilant, if not mild paranoid. ,, Allies: As of now, Ivan has no allies, and hasn't seem to find anyone(s) he can genuinely trust. Having been a lone-wolf for quite a long time, he's seeking companions or friendships or some type of interpersonal relationships, yet they have proven elusive.
  3. Timeframe The Events of this story take place one week after Underdark Disclaimer Due to events that will play out, it is a reminder to all that this is a work of fiction. Any similarities to RL are either coincidental or used as "dressing" for this thread. The Macguffins are entirely possible. As such I need to remind everyone that NO, I don't know how such a thing could be put into action and even if it did, I don't have the resources to pull it off anyways nor have the reason to if I did. This is a game that uses much of RL in it's timeline. A game where we play the guys that stop the bad guys (hopefully). Now that this is out of the way, let's have some fun. -TG Morning 0800 Hours 60 NM from Pearl Harbor Kei walked about the flight deck of the USS George Washington, observing the waves and watching the Naval Aircraft that were being set up for take-off after refueling. Most of them Naval aircraft still on deck that needed to be transferred to some other ship, and a couple were emergency landings due to failed mid-air refueling. She stayed on deck wearing her flight suit that has become one-part costume, and one part safety equipment, with her cormorant vest on, making her look like another pilot, but with the design of the Devilion, it looked like she should be flying something that Connor would be acting in. She adjusted the vest, and looked up. She was expecting Karrie to arrive soon with the F-35N that was requisitioned for her use on this. She also wasn't used to not having May, her operator, present for the mission, as she was away in Japan working with her counterparts on later joint-exchange programs. That and May was doing leg-work on this mission on the ground, since the subject of the coming briefing was in regards to a Japanese cargo ship being Hijacked and Pirated from. She paced near the island, waiting for Karrie's arrival. The odd mix of blue jump-suited DSA crews prepping for KArrie's arrival intermixed with Navy crews in their gear was a jarring sight. But, Kei wagered that this would be the only way she would have ever been able to experience Navy life on a carrier or have a chance to be an aviator in the Navy. After all someone as short as her would be disqualified from most duties, or perhaps even be passed up for enlistment. She stretched out, and stepped back to watch a F-18 that was refueled take off on the catapult, the last aircraft to leave before the deck was cleared. Then it comes in over a loud speaker. "Attention Deck, F-35N #5 on approach, prepare for inbound VTOL..." Kei looked up and flew to the top of the island, and watched Karrie arrive. She had faith that she knew how to operate a high-performance aircraft for a Vertical Take-Off and Landing.
  4. Alex was born on July 4, 1915. His father, Alexander Aceworth SR., had just gotten back from his most recent tour of duty in the first World War, and had been discharged due to losing his right leg. But in the process, Alexander Senior erupted, becoming a sharp mind with a keen intellect. He went into business for himself, eventually pioneering research into a form of Aetherfiber that becomes one of the premier brands of Aetherfiber clothing on the market. Even after the Great Depression set in, Aceworth Aetherics Applications created many Aethertechnology products that have recieved wide acclaim, enough to bouy the corporation through the troubled waters of the 1930s. Alex's mother, Rebecca Aceworth (Nee Shwarzstadt) was a Nurse during the war effort, although once her husband Alex came home, they had gotten together. Rebecca was a smart woman herself, although she loved her coming role as mother to her dear boy. Alex was a only child, unfortunately, as Rebecca died soon after. Alex Junior had an eye for airplanes. They were the new form of transportation, and Alex loved putting models together whenever he could. Although he sighed as to how aircraft just weren't coming along like he wanted. He wanted to go faster, further, and with greater heights. Then when he turned 18, after hearing about the US Navy's aviation program, he immediately enlisted, and indeed showed great promise as a pilot. First in training with seaplanes that were just starting to see use, then with fighter aircraft designed for carrier use. While many higher up officials in the Navy didn't see the viability, Alex did, and participated in a demonstration that showed that indeed a carrier-based attack could devastate a old style battleship fleet. Then in 1940, as he was flying in a new Catalina type flying boat, he and his crew were testing a potential new aetheric detector that would pick up on submerged enemy submarines through the electromagnetic disturbances they cause as they travel through the water. When the device activated, it could detect even the most minute electromagnetic variance using a specific frequency called "Aetheric X-Frequency Waves". Everything started alright, as the crew reached their testing point over the Atlantic 50 miles off the coast of Miami. Then the device shorted, releasing a massive pulse of X-Frequency Aetheric Waves, causing Alex's crew to immediately have massive brain hemmorages. They died on the spot as their brains became a mush. Alex on the other hand was slammed into with the same waves, but unbeknownst to everyone, through interaction with his father and the constant exposure to a variety of Aetheric waves; his central nervous system was arranged in a certain pattern, causing the trigger of a eruptive event. Just as Alex's head hit the dashboard of his stricken plane. When he came to, his plane was sinking as the tail end was sheared off in the crash, and he had mere moments to get out. Grabbing the now fried device, and got out. Left floating out in the Atlantic for two days, blood trickling from his nose, and the test team on shore didn't know what had happened. Search parties went north and south of him. He didn't even know if the submarine that was picked to head out as a test subject would be passing through and made part of the search. All the while he knew sharks would arrive. And they did, but before they could make a meal of Alex, the test submarine surfaced and picked him up, sending him back home. Luckily he grabbed the device as well, the science teams had a field-day on it wondering why it failed. But Alex already knew just by looking at how it faulted. Sabotage. German Sabotage. Then he showed how the Aetheric waves interacted with the emmiter ring, and several other things only a Athertech engineer could figure out. In fact they discovered that Alex had somehow become smarter, and his reaction time jumped up greatly. Seeing he would be a great asset analysing Wunderwaffe weapons starting to pop up from the Blitzkrieg, Alex was sent to Washington DC; with a higher rank and a new duty to a newly formed department made up of the best minds in the US Navy. In January of 1941, he is sent to England to assist the Royal Air Force, Navy, and Army, in analysing discovered Aethertech from shot down Luftwaffe aircraft. This, is where Alex's war begins.
  5. Timeline: Not long after Lion, Wench and the Warzone ,, This council in Jericho Drumm's office was a tripartite one: Eileen Gomez on one side of the desk, Denise Childs sitting to her left in a quiet and inscrutable fashion. And in the big chair across from them, the man himself, Director Drumm. Though he had been quietly listening to Eileen, the women could detect the subdued optimism hidden within Director Drumm's face. No matter how bad it got, Jericho always had hope. ,, "So right now then, Caitlin should not be in classes then, Eileen?" He summarized her past several minutes of talk. Eileen nodded soberly, "The body may heal, and hers quite fast...but that... animal put her through immense physical pain and trauma several times over, along with the psychological effects of a near-death experience. Add to that a measure of self-loathing... she's close to being like a trigger, Jericho." ,, Director Drumm nodded, his face tightening for a moment at the mention of Primal. For all his calm in the face of the Jungle King, he'd had a ringside view to their clash, and it had sickened him more and more about the sadistic mutant hunter serving the government. That and the reminder of his own family - recovery came slowly and not easily. ,, "Well, seeing as we can't ignore the matter of academics, I think I have the perfect tutor in mind, the least volatile of our super-geniuses." ,, Ms. Childs looked a bit like the devil's advocate for a moment at this pronouncement. "You sure you can get him out of that lab?" Director Drumm smiled a little. "Denise, you're asking that after his participation in Gold's rescue? When push comes to shove, Curtis will help his fellow peers in great need." ,, "However reluctantly." He then allowed. ,, OOC Feel free to fast forward to the actual tutoring, Vivi.
  6. March 27th (Roughly one month after Lion, Wench and Warzone) ,, "Well," Professor Jensen sighed as she squinted down at the steady flow of data scrolling across the screen of her tablet, "I think we're done with this battery of tests." ,, "Agreed." Dr Chase said as she eyeballed the matching set of figures on her own screen. She looked up and out through the reinforced transparent viewing window. "The changes to his cellular structure are significantly beyond those I studied when he first arrived at the Academy, but they seem to be stabilising again now." She then added what both women were thinking. "Fortunately." ,, "Rapid secondary mutation." Jensen summed up as she turned to look at Director Drumm. "No sign of the cellular changes trending towards the malignant. As you can see, his cell formations are becoming more efficiently aligned as his mutation progresses." Jericho Drumm nodded and pushed away from where he had been leaning on the rear wall of the lab. As he came forwards, Chase handed him a pair of polarised goggles which the Director donned without argument before glancing out of the similarly-polarised observation window. ,, Alexander Andrews was floating roughly six feet off the floor, clad in a pair of shorts and nothing else, with a huge bank of lights arrayed around him in a roughly circular pattern. The lights were releasing a steady pulse of light, heat, UV and IR rays, enough to cause melanoma and blindness in anyone else after a mere ten minutes of exposure, but young Andrews was just soaking it up. Literally. ,, "This is kept hush hush." the Director told the doctor and the scientist. "Need to know only. Bad enough that they tried to snatch Alex and Aradia last month: if they knew this, they'd have put up one hell of a bigger fight." He squinted through the goggles at the young man and smirked. "A living sun." ,, "Not technically." Jensen said in her best scientist voice as she came to stand by Drumm. He glanced at her and she shrugged. "Well, the definition needs work." ,, "What would you call him, Professor?" the rakishly handsome man asked her with a sly smile. ,, "Well, he's technically a catalytic absorber. They are usually Class 3 mutants, but with Mr Andrews, there's an interesting twist. He can use the absorbed energy in a number of ways, giving him greater versatility. Combined with his power output, I'd say that puts him at Class 5. Next year?" she shrugged and made a gesture of helpless surrender. "Who knows." ,, "He's also a young man." Dr Lucia Chase said, a note of somewhat prim disapproval in her voice. "For all of his power. I worry about the possible emotional effects of his further mutation." ,, "We all have to learn to grow into our capabilities." Drumm replied. "That is what we're here for, doctor. I trust you and Professor Jensen to keep a close eye on Alex." The line was delivered deadpan, and Drumm gave no sign of noticing the faint flush on both womens cheeks in the dark booth. "Keep me updated." he told them as he left the room. ,, * * * * * * Alex was deep in thought as he wandered across the grounds, the spring thaw being helped along a little by the summery radiance he shed in his wake. The doctor and the professor had been straightforward in informing him of their findings. He was changing, growing further and further away from the norm, and the most significant differences were on the cellular level. The glow, the heat - they were just symptoms of the fact that every single one of his body's cells was akin to a tiny, inefficient star. ,, It's kind of cool he mused as he passed a group of girls heading the other way. He flashed the knot of freshmen a warm, if somewhat preoccupied smile in response to the staccato chorus of "Hi Alex" before shoving his hands into the pockets of his thick black wool coat and went back to thinking. It's not all bad. I don't get tired so much, I hardly ever miss a shot at hoops now, I can fly... Not so bad at all. He kept on walking, not really to anyplace so much as just to walk, head down and his mane of sun-hued hair tumbling in the wind, and wondering why he had to keep telling himself that it wasn't so bad...
  7. The three months and change since the Mexico City quake had definitely been Active ones. Humanitarian Aid poured in like never before, and while much of the city was in ruins, and work was still being done, looking now for corpses, to give the survivors closure, still great strides had been made, and A temporary settlement had been raised to house the many who did survive. What few novas who could control weather patterns were quickly employed to do so, keeping storms at bay and providing temperatures that the many workers and military personnel could function in without great inconvenience. ,, Of Course, the DSA's novas received the lion's share of the good press, through the efforts of Telluris, Vixen, Connor, and everyone else, Things were kept running smoothely. It was Karrie however who made a more startling discovery. Studying the tectonics, and all the readings provided by Rob, as well as a testimony provided by Connor, There was mounting evidence that something might have caused this quake. The entire region was unstable yes, but the volcanoes had been lying dormant for a long time, and the crustal plates were moving far far less than others. The Factors simply didn't add up for such a quake to have occurred. Of course Horst immediately classified the information as top secret, at least until the smoking gun could be produced. In an Emergency meeting with the President and Chief's of Staff, he did lay out the preliminary reports, receiving authorization to pursue this with the full abilty of the DSA. ,, Due to Japan's own well developed studies of earthquakes, the Decision was made and authorized to enlist the aid of Department Zero, adding their expertise to the DSA's. It became something altogether different, when some similarities to the Tohoku quake of March 2011 were revealed. ,, The DSA maintained a strong presence on site, the rubble was being cleared away of the old city, and already plans were being made to rebuild, though for many the question was "Should we rebuild over the bones of the old city once again, or Relocate somewhere more tenable. At any rate it was a massive undertaking, and both local buisnesses and American ones were on-site, drawn by the promise of work, and the lure of money. Many survivors worked side by side with the relief teams, they knew the area better, and one could feel the palpable awe and gratitude when a nova was found at the center of a workparty, or descended from the sky to assist. ,, ,,
  8. I've had a short story idea in mind for a while now and decided to get working on it in here, when I feel it's ready I'll move it to the fictions section on the main part of the site. Anyway here's the first part. * * * Sirens, hover engines, radio signals, they’re almost here! They’re finally coming to free us from it. Careful! Can’t let it know they’re coming or else it will try to get away, they have to kill it or it won’t stop. It’s resting now, it always rests after it kills, but only rests never sleeps. The others in the corner all whimpering, terrified, all looking at the blood drenched thing, praying they won’t be next. They don’t dare try to escape, others tried when they thought it was asleep they were torn apart by the beast. A little boy, Adrian the others called him, was starring at the window to his left, he knows they’ve arrived, you can tell by the look of hope across his face. He can’t let the others know, they’ll just alert it. “Adrian, careful, don’t let it know, it will be over soon”, There it couldn’t have heard that, it’s still in its slumbering state. Ah Adrian’s nodding, such a good boy, I hope he makes it through this, I hope they all do. Vehicle hatches opening, they’re here! Please don’t wake up, please. Rock a by monster on the tile floor… It twitched! No, rest some more, you’ve worked hard today, so many dead, you’re tired. Thank goodness, he’s relaxing again, but the others have begun to stir, they all know the police, or even the military, are here to save us or get us killed. They have to keep quiet! * * * “We’re three kilometres from our destination, ma’am”. The young officer, Banegri, said to his passenger, uncertainly. ,,She couldn’t blame him, she’d entered a trance a moment earlier to extend her sight, though she was well aware of her surroundings. “Shut the siren off, Mr Banegri, and order the others to do the same” she told him still focussing her attention in the distance ahead of them. She suddenly straightened, startling the driver, she wiped the newly formed layer of sweat from her brow and leaned over the data terminal in front of her and began typing. * * * “Incoming data message from Eyus Miller” The voice of the military client Nomad, chimed through Levin Blyth’s ear piece. He touched the pad to activate its holo display, risking the projections light giving away his position, Eyus must think it’s safe enough to send data rather than just audio. The data was a message and attached were updated schematics and markers signifying possible entry and exit points of the very building he was under and a rough location as to where the target was. We’ve got him now. * * * It smells something, it’s sniffing at the air towards what was a data terminal, it destroyed the moment it entered the room, along with anything else that required power to function. It hated electricity that was obvious, when each time it would rouse from its cat naps and would habitually strike at a terminal or a wall socket as it stalked by. But now it was studying the wreckage, as though it could see beyond it, wrinkling its nose and sneering with contempt. Ha! It’s actually annoyed. It’s leaving, and fast, to deal with something, more likely someone. It’s content to leave these people unguarded, no one will try to escape, it saw to that earlier, displaying the mangled corpses of the all those who attempted to flee when it left the room earlier. * * * “Levin, he’s pissed and he knows you’re there!” Eyus’ said urgently into the com, forgoing any security. “How long to go until the cops are in position?” The big man asked working on a spherical device the size of a melon as best he could in the dark sub-basement. “The assault teams are setting up here, they’ve sent two to meet you, should be there any second now. The actual cops are busy clearing the locals out”. She focussed again, and the sickening feeling struck again. “Three floors until he’s on you!” “Right! They’re here, deploying countermeasures and moving to position c. I hate this part”. He removed the cable connecting the melon device to Nomad and keyed in the activation code on the unit itself. The two officers waited for him to finish, they were wearing full assault garb and each with laser carbines at the ready, Levin motioned for them to gut the power to their goggles. “It’s set, keep the lights off, he’s attracted to it. Let’s go.” Thirty seconds later the entire floor was engulfed in white light. * * *
  9. The dorm halls were just one could expect, except with mutants... which meant loud talking, shouting, phones ringing, and people running around in the cramped hallways. Now add in a few pieces of telekinetically-floating luggage, and the occasional flier who didn't feel like being patient and walking ripping down the hall above the crowd, and what you have is a hormonally charged, post-pubescent, mutant dorm. Warren rolled his eyes as he waded through the crowd. Some of the students looked odd: strange colored hair and eyes seemed common but strange skin tones, colors and materials seemed to sprout up here and there. He noticed a student made of rock who was moving down the hall by rolling himself into a ball. He literally owned nothing except what he wore, but Director Drumm said that some lady named 'Childs' would help him in procuring a more sensible wardrobe. This is bullshit. He thought to himself as he grew impatient and simply began making his own path through the people. "Hell out of the way people, Christ." The rock boy he kicked and sent the little guy tumbling/rolling down the hall until he wiped out by slamming into some chick who appeared to have wood for hands and forearms. "Freak." He muttered as he watched the boy stagger to his feet. "Hey!" A classmate was suddenly in his face, a pretty girl with elongated ears, sligtly pronounced fangs, and fuzzy tufts of fur on her forearms. "The kid's only in 4th grade. Back off." "You wanna join him?" The glare he gave the girl was a challenge for her to keep talking and be prepared to back up her words, or walk away. "Ugh, asshole." She fumed as she walked away, shaking her head in disgust. As she walked off to help the poor little kid out. "Shale, sweetie, are you okay? Are you looking for you sister?" Weak. He sighed, disappointed. A few doors later and he was at his room. Twisting the knob he strode into his room to meet his new roommate...
  10. The guards outside the secure area were clearly bored; they had mastered the art of leaning against a wall without actually appearing to slouch. Both of them had the slack-muscled expression that suggested that they were moments from falling asleep on their feet from sheer boredom. There was nothing down there; the hallway ended at a corner. There was nothing interesting to see. ,, Until the laundry girl appeared from thin air and lodged throwing knifes in their throats from twenty feet. Both men went down with only the clatter of their twitching bodies. Silvestru retrieved her blades and cleaned them on the men’s uniforms before digging through pockets for the keys. Then she opened the door to the secure area. ,, She’d never been allowed this far before. The guards brought the linens to the door and left them outside for her and the other laundresses to retrieve. When cleaned, they were left in the same spot. Silvestru had always wondered why they didn’t allow anyone other than the guards back here and her first glimpse of the area didn’t explain matters. It was just a long hallway, lined by doors on either side. The doors were dozens of feet apart, implying massive rooms or suites of rooms behind each. ,, Silvestru didn’t have time to ponder. The sound of approaching feet required her to cloak herself again and press herself against the wall. Four men in the Gestapo uniforms exited a room and paused when they saw the door was open. One of them stepped past Silvestru, his expression confused until he saw the bodies. “Intruder!” he cried in German even as Silvestru winced. “Sound the alarms!” ,, Klaxons rang in the air, which was to her advantage. Under the aural cover of the sirens, Silvestru turned and dashed deeper into the complex, seeking the prisoner’s cells. The rooms in this area were interrogation cells and so reminiscent of her time in her cell that she shivered and fought nausea. The Nazis were no better than the Romanian Fascists. ,, A door right in front of her opened and Silvestru slammed into it. Another second either way and she’d have been fine, but the timing didn’t allow her to compensate and dodge. She tumbled to the floor, visible, and the guards who’d been emerging from the other side blinked at the sight of the blood-splattered laundress lying on the floor. ,, Silvestru kicked up while the first of the three was still gaping, slicing his throat and turning the splatters into a spray of gore across her and her clothing. With the other hand, she grabbed his submachine gun and turned it on his companions. Blood clouded the air in a mist as the bullets minced their flesh and bone and Silvestru turned as the Gestapo she’d been fleeing heard. They were leveling their guns at her as she sprayed the hallway again. When they returned fire, she ducked behind the heavy metal door, glad that it stopped bullets. ,, They were alternating shots, trying to keep her pinned down while they advanced on her. Silvestru scowled a moment before moving to the gap in the door formed by the hinges. She nudged the barrel of her gun into that opening and rapidly picked them off, each burst of fire taking out a man. ,, Silence followed her last shot and the young dynamic peeked out carefully. There was no sound or motion from the men but Silvestru sprayed the bodies again, just to be sure none of them were playing possum. She quickly exchanged her used gun for a fresh submachine gun. ,, Satisfied she’d protected her cover thus far, Silvestru jogged down the hall. Where did they actually keep the dynamic prisoners? That thought made her cloak herself again; where were the dynamic guards? ,, The last door in this hallway had a name on it: ‘Bæl’ Silvestru frowned slightly. What was a Bæl? With a shrug, she found the right key and opened the door. ,, The two guards in the control room were surprised to see her when the door swung wide, as surprised as Silvestru was. But she recovered first, the submachine gun rattling loud in the small room. The men were good; one of them returned fire as he went down, and Silvestru’s chest sported three holes. At least one of the bullets was in her lung; when she pressed her hand to her chest, it was easier to breath. The girl felt her stomach twist with fear. She wouldn’t die, not here. Not so far from home. She needed to heal, but she was low on energy after the cloaking, and she had a long walk out yet. Hesitantly, she forced the bullets out and stopped the bleeding, but that was all. ,, A thump bought her attention from the hole in her chest. A waist-high window peered into a water-filled room. A man was floating in a diving suit, but he was no ordinary man. His eyes burned like fire behind the faceplate. His hands were pressing on the glass, the source of the noise. He didn’t need to gesture to make his desires known; they were writ large in his face. ,, Struggling against shock and dizziness, Silvestru went to the control panel. Most of it was monitors and dials; there was only one button, leeren. Draining seemed logical when you had a man trapped in a room of water, and she pressed the red switch.
  11. Ryan was off duty, not stood down mind, but he didn't need to be in his plane, or with the men. Indeed he was coming off deployment again, which almost always meant some harebrained plan from higher-up. Still it did mean he got to come to London. ,, Despite the bombings, the city held great interest to him, it was where his Father's side of the family heralded from, centuries past. So once again, he was on base, heading to the women's Barracks, looking to meet up with a fellow Dynamic for lunch, to catch up on what he'd missed while deployed with his men. ,, Despite the aborted run with a large group of dynamics, they'd not secured an intact plane, He and Claire had it it off rather well, after the fact, and Ryan smiled. He did feel better in the company of other dynamics, and to be fair, She wasn't part of his Chain of Command.... His thoughts caused a rare smile to curl the corners of his mouth, He knew that it was going to be a good day.
  12. “And there you are.” The Hindi porter set down Olivia’s bags and turned with a smile to watch her take in the cabin. It wasn’t a small room despite their mode of travel, done in white and reds. The space was brightly lit with soft, indirect lighting. A small dining table with two chairs was placed against the back wall. A loveseat immediately to the left of the door faced two armchairs, making a small seating area. ,, The porter opened one of the two doors to show her a compact bathroom. “Here is the water closet. You have a hot tub for your use, as well as a shower. Your berth includes full use of water.” The tub filled most of the room and was large enough to fit two comfortably. ,, “Goodness, that’s… the largest tub I’ve ever seen.” Olivia stared, stunned. She was starting to feel a little overwhelmed—more overwhelmed. ,, “And this room is the bedroom.” Most of the space in the suite had been devoted to this room. The windows were large and made with thick glass; the image was slightly distorted but the golden light in the room was rich and warm. Heavy curtains could be drawn across it for night but were open right now and showing a picturesque view of Bangkok—as picturesque as that city got, anyway. Drawers and a closet had been built into the walls to create an image of space without sacrificing storage. The centerpiece of the room was the bed; it was a queen or maybe a king. The comforter on top looked as thick as a mattress, and all Olivia could think was that it was a bed made for lounging in for hours. ,, But it was the desk under the windows and across from the bed that really caught Olivia’s attention. The wood of the piece shone with a pale hue, matched by the cushioned chair in front of it. The young nurse reached out and brushed her fingers over the edge of the ætherlabe terminal. ,, “I’m afraid that you’ll not always have access to the æthersystem,” the porter said, slipping past her to turn on the screen with a flourish, “but when you do, you’ll be able to use it within the privacy of your own room.” The young man’s dark eyes glittered with dark amusement as he murmured, “And there are no restrictions to your usage.” ,, “Thank you,” Olivia said, knowing he was trying to imply something not sure what he meant. ,, The porter all-but winked as he repeated himself, “No restrictions. You can watch things you can’t find in say… a movie theatre.” ,, Olivia was still drawing a blank. “Unedited war footage?” she gamely guessed. ,, “He means pornography, darling.” James dropped his bags at the foot of the bed and dug a tip out of his pocket. “Oh, and have them bring around some champagne, glasses and a do-not disturb sign.” ,, The porter managed to tuck the money away without looking at it but it was clear he knew exactly how generous James had been. “Of course, sir.” He bowed. “Enjoy your honeymoon, Mr. and Mrs. Fleming.” ,, And with that, Olivia was alone in the cabin with James. Nervously, she spun the gold band on her left ring finger and said, “We should establish some rules. For… us. This. The… cohabiting.” She knew she was babbling, but her nerves wouldn’t let her stop.
  13. Morri ran. It wasnt all that different than her first emotional breakdown during the early weeks of her time at Hunt. But instead of running into the woods looking for solace from people, she was seeking certain people. Students gave her a wide berth for their safety as she streaked across campus. Though panicked, she was aware of what she was doing. Her nose was testing the air constantly, seeking one of a handful of familiar scents. When she found it, Morri skidded to a stop, her feet sliding in the soft spring mud. Jumping back and crouching, she confirmed it: Son-ja had been here recently. Sniffing, Morri followed the trail, as clear and bright as her friends hair. The path lead to the library, so inside the feral went, surprising the librarian. The man knew who she was, but had never seen the infamous mutant in his building. He rose from his chair, but she ducked past him without a word and dashed deeper into the shelving. Sonja was sitting on the floor. None of the furniture here was comfortable or at the right height for her legs anymore. Even if there had been a barstool to perch on, the seats were no longer wide enough to be comfortable for her hips. Not that she was fat! She was just big-boned. The kneeling cushion shed found at a new age store was perfect for softening the floor, and big enough that she could sit on it and cross her legs. It was still annoying that she couldnt sit on a chair; she was considering the possibility of using the tables as chairs. They were tall enough and probably sturdy enough Despite the fact that she held a book on the union efforts of early industrial U.S. in her hands, Sonja wasnt really reading it. She was too annoyed with her seating arrangements to concentrate, and though she was reading and pages were being turned in the book, she has no retention of the material. She was thinking about how she had to sit on the floor. Then Morri walked up, stepped between the book and Sonjas body, sat down in her lap and huddled against her. Sonja blinked as she found her arms and lap full of a shaking Morri. Even as she thought once again that someone needed to bell the red-eyed mutant, she set aside her book and hugged Morri. What is it? Whats wrong, Morri? The feral sat up and twisted to face Sonja. Mar-ko hurt head. Hurt here. Morri put a hand to her chest, her eyes wide as she looked to her friend for comfort.
  14. Tank lofted the football high into the air, wincing when it cleared Curt’s head by a dozen yards. His mutant powers had increased when he’d hit a second growth spurt, leaving him struggling to get used to his new upper body power. Curt gamely made an attempt, but he couldn’t stretch his arms fast enough to compensate for the unexpected distance. Both teens turned to see where the ball would land and both shouted a warning when they saw the man on the sidewalk. Tank’s bellow downed out Curt’s shout and echoed against the exterior of the gym; it got the guy’s attention easily. Instead of running away, though, the guy turned into the toss, giving a little hop and stretching out his hands. He placed himself perfectly for the catch and the ball seemed to float into his reaching fingers. Tank was impressed. The dude knew how to catch pretty well for an old human guy. The man was at least thirty, maybe even forty. The teens watched as he tossed the ball a couple of times; just when Tank was wondering if the guy would ever toss it back, the stranger snapped off a throw. He made it look easy, but the spin was just perfect and Tank had to move all of two feet to catch it. “Nice toss!” he hollered and got a wave from the man before he continued on the sidewalk. Curt jogged over to him and nervously asked, “Shouldn’t we tell someone that there’s a strange guy walking around on campus?” “Naw. He’s human.” It was one of Tank’s gifts; he didn’t know what a given mutant could do but he knew if he was mutant. It was a sixth sense or something, and a secret he didn’t share with many. In the wrong hands, he could be very dangerous to other mutants. “What’s one human going to be able to do to us? Go back to where you were, and let’s try again.” Curt looked unconvinced, but with a stretch and of his legs and a single step, he was back in position. Tank bit his lips, gauged the distance and threw it again. As Curt caught the ball, Tank looked the direction the guy had went, but he wasn’t in sight anymore. The young mutant promptly forgot him. Ford slipped between two buildings, going over the map in his head again. He hoped that the kids wouldn’t say anything to anyone; the last thing he needed was Gomez getting wind that he was here. She wouldn’t understand; none of them would. He owed the Morrigan for what he’d done to her; he needed to see her, make sure she was safe and deliver the gift he had for her. He didn’t trust what Gomez would do with it, and he knew damned well that she wouldn’t give him any credit. She hadn’t quite told him to go die in a fire in Africa, but it had been close. In truth, he was just as angry that she used him to free Morri and then left him behind. He’d nearly been killed by Vyse because she’d abandoned him. Ford stopped suddenly, his eyes widening. There she was. The Morrigan sat on a stone bench, laboriously writing or drawing in a notebook that was perched on her crossed legs. She was wearing jeans and a windbreaker against the spring chill; her hair was long and waving slightly in the wind. He’d always thought her beautiful but now she looked young and innocent. Frowning, he wondered if she had changed too much, if she was the same girl he’d come to love. With a snarl like shredding paper, Morri slammed both fists into the notebook, then threw it away from her in a tantrum. Ford grinned. That’s my girl. Carefully, he stepped forward, trying not to spook her. “Morri,” he called softly, and the girl twisted to see him. Ford’s heart sank at the rage that filled her eyes. “Vyse!” she all-but howled, bounding to her feet. Blood flowed down her arm to pool in her hands, a long blade already forming from the liquid. “He’s not here! Morri, Morri, it’s okay.” Ford quickly crouched, holding his hands well away from his body. “He’s not here, and you know I’m your friend.” The dangerous mutant peered around before sidling over to him. Ford held himself very still as she smelled him, no doubt seeking Vyse’s scent on his clothing. “See? No Vyse,” he told her when she straightened. “No…” she agreed, her voice uncertain. “I-lean say you bad man.” Ford blinked at her vocabulary. She’d known words in Africa but not this many, and she’d never been able to communicate very well. Pride at her accomplishments filled him, and he resisted the urge to try to touch her. He needed to be sure she was all right with being touched before he did it. “Eileen was half-right.” She frowned and he quickly added, “I know that what I helped do was wrong. I’m here to say I’m sorry.” “Help is-cape.” “Yes! Yes, I did.” He grinned, hopeful that things were going his way. “Morri, is there somewhere we can talk?” The girl frowned. “Talk work here. Words work here.” “No, I mean private.” He didn’t want anyone to interrupt them. “Pry-vet?” “Alone.” Ford swallowed, trying not to sound too eager. He didn’t want to work her emotions up, because who knows where they would go. “Just you and me, so no one else can hear us or… stop us.” Morri nodded and walked away briskly. Ford followed her, watching for spies as they walked. She led him into a building and then into a dance studio. It was a small room and probably doubled as a space for many things, but the mirrors on one wall betrayed what its original purpose had been. Morri sat down gracefully, crossing her legs at her ankle and dropping to the hardwood floor. That maneuver would have left Ford in pain, assuming that he wouldn’t fall on his ass trying it. He opted to sit down before crossing his legs. For a moment, he watched her, drinking in the sight of her. He hadn’t realized what she’d meant to him until Gomez had stolen her. She waited patiently, her glowing eyes moderately curious. “How have you been, Morri?” Her brow furrowed in confusion and he clarified, “Do you like it here?” She nodded quickly, her expression lighting up with delight. “Have frends. Good food. No Vyse. No cages. PIE! Can right!” “You can write now?” Ford latched onto the last thing on the list before her train of thought could keep going. “What can you write?” She pulled a piece of paper out of her jeans and handed it to him. Ford unfolded it to reveal the lined paper that they used to help kids write. In painstaking letters, she’d written ‘MORRIGAN’. The R’s were backwards, but Ford exclaimed, “Wow, that’s great! I’m so proud of you.” Morri’s smile faltered. “No drugs?” she asked abruptly. His own grin was gone as he matched her somber mood. “Never.” Ford met her eyes and let her see that he was being sincere. He held out a hand to her. “I will never hurt you again, or stand by and let anyone else hurt you. I swear.”
  15. I recently got the go ahead from the GM in my game to build a set of 6 rather interesting NPCs. Trouble is I am not familiar enough with the Aberrant system to build them. To make a long story short, I am trying to build Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rairity, and Fluttershy. And yes, those are ponies. Though as a joke I think making their nova form into the pony form would be best. No limits on the number of nova points used, but they can't take anything tainted. (Assume natural immunity to taint for game purposes) Powers would need to match those shown in the MLP:FiM series. Up to and including the Elements of Harmony super weapon. (Assume that it can do major disabling/transmuting but can NOT cause ANY lethal damage.) ,, For those wondering why the GM would allow ponies of all things, dude be a brony and enjoys fucking with peoples minds. ,, I wont list off every power I think they should have because while I am familiar with the series I am not sure how to match it up to the Abberant system. There are more websites than I can imagine for finding out what they can all do but I am fairly sure that the best would be this one. http://mlp.wikia.com/wiki/Characters#Main_characters ,, As far as I know there are no other rules, well just one. No Alicorn Twilight... When I suggested it I was told if I mentioned it again I would find my own character suffering far worse than death. ,, For those that help, thank you in advanced. For those that hate ponies and cant even fathom why I would taint Aberrant and/or this board with this... Meh. Don't care.
  16. Sometime after The Lion, the Wench, and the Warzone, but before The Proposal... ,, Aradia licked her lips nervously as she leaned up against the wall outside the boy's locker room. They'd just gotten done with gym class, which was always an amusing adventure at Lawrence Hunt, and Aradia had rushed through her shower like a speed demon, in order to get done and out before the guys did. She wanted to talk to Alex alone, and unless she was going to brave wandering through the boy's dorm and exposing herself to whatever was going on in that part of the building, as well as to the teasing she'd be subject to from the girls for being there, catching him right after class was her best option. Otherwise, he and Sonja would probably be hanging off one another, and she didn't even feel like dealing with that. It only took another minute for the boys to begin trickling out, and Ari nodded to a couple of them and flashed them friendly smiles. Finally she spotted Alex walking out by himself (thankfully!), and waved him over. "Hey, Alex - you got a minute?" ,, The young Adonis flashed her that charming smile - the one he gives everyone, stupid! - and made his way over to her, hefting his backpack up onto his shoulder. "Hey Ari, what's up?" ,, "Well, I've been thinking..." She ran a hand through shower-dampened hair, and smiled a little, trying not to look like an idiot. "I just kind of thought that maybe we should do something for Caitlin. I haven't had much of a chance to talk to her, see how she's settling in. And I really wanted to do something to thank her.. you know.. for doing what she did for us. I don't know what yet, but I thought I'd see if you wanted to get in on it." ,,
  17. "Look, guys," Director Drumm tried to plead with his three gathered students. "It's not that big of a deal, okay? We're just going to meet a family who's interested in their daughter joining our family and I'd like for them to meet a few of our students here to help break the ice. Easy peasy." "But... it's freezing." Aradia said calmly as they all stood there in the driveway waiting for the van to warm up. The quartet stood shivering. "We could totally keep an eye on things for you while you're gone, no problem. Just a normal day." As if on cue a young mutant with redish hued 'psychic wings' flew past them at break neck speed, slamming into a tree a second later. His 'wings' fizzled out with a blink as he tumbled to the ground just before all the snow in tree buried him. The kids that were chasing him ran to the tree as he was digging himself out, apparently unhurt. He grounded mutant raised his hands, pleading to one of the others that was approaching. "Mucus tag!" The approaching mutant shouted before drowning the snow covered boy in a barrage sticky, slimy mucus balls he dripped into his hand from his never empty nose. The Director and his three companions simply stood there, mouths agape in disgust and horror at the rather rancid scene. This of course meant retaliation and in a matter of moments the booger soaked boy begain blasting the others with bolts of reddish psychic energy, leaving them all drooling in a heap upon the cold snow. Jericho smiled brightly looking to Aradia. " Oh, how I yearn for normal. Get in the van." He ushered them into the van and turned to the poor snot soaked boy. "Hawke! Hawke, are they dead? They better not be dead. Or vegetables. I want no vegetables either." The boy shook his head, trying not to cry at the humiliation of being covered in boogers. "They're just dreaming of Cookie Monster." "Well, that's rather kind of you, I thought you baked their brains this time." Jericho was rather pleased at the restraint the young man showed despite how he was just treated. "Not really," Hawke shrugged, still shambling his way to the front entrance wringing boogers out of his scarf. "They're the cookies." With a stern glance the occupants of the van quit laughing hysterically. So much for restraint. Jericho sighed. "Just get inside and let someone know they're out here. We can't have them freezing. We'll talk when I get back." He climbed into the van and began driving off and by the time the van had reached the end of the drive way, all four were laughing hysterically again... Just a normal day. About an hour later... "Alright, we're here." The van pulled into the driveway of a rather nice home, apparently the parents did pretty well for themselves. "Now, remember..." "No power use." Aradia repeated, with a roll of the eyes. "Be respectful." Alex chimed up. "We're here to set their minds at ease about the school." Natalie said on queue. "Thank you. Now come on, try to have some fun with this. What's the worst that could happen?" He said with his typical charming smile. The four stepped onto the porch and Alex rang the doorbell...
  18. The wind blew cold and hard outside the Kauffman Center for the Arts; Midwest winters were always unfriendly. The other members of the charity committee board were straggling out in twos and threes, but Kitty was well ahead of them, moving briskly toward her rented car. She was eager to get away before Connor caught up with her. ,, It had seemed a pleasant commitment last November; a charity for cancer, featuring a nova auction. It was still in the formation stages, which meant they had a long time before this duty would be over. Before Christmas, Kitty had looked forward to it. Now the long months of planning seemed to drag on interminably. ,, It was so hard to see him and know that they weren’t together. It was harder to look at him and feel disappointment. Kitty felt tears sting her eyes. She’d lost Harley, her best friend, and now it felt like she’d lost the friend she’d made since Harley’s death. Damnit, Connor, why? I thought we knew where we were… ,, Kitty lifted her chin and blinked back tears. No. No more crying over Connor. She was done with moping over a man. It was a new day for Kitty Price.
  19. March 5th, 2013 ,, Connor had had a good weekend. God knows he needed it. It had been nonstop since the new year, as he ran around the world on DSA errands and State Department PR ops. he had seen scarce little of any of his comrades at the office, considering his highly irregular hours. He'd had the first and second of March off, for the gand opening of the new podbay in Houston something he didn't want to miss. ,, It was back to work though afterwards, as he was now In Mexico City, a guest of the President, who was seeking to improve US-Mexican relations. He'd been a real reformer so far rooting out corruption and on the whole truly helping redeem the Mexican central government's reputation in the eyes of the world. Of course, he made some enemies in this, but for the most part, his economic reforms had helped the nation, and the people were behind him. ,, Mexico boasted only three publicly known novas, Ming, Mariposa Esposita, and Juan Carlos Camacho, The man working for the Department of Agriculture. It was his work that had helped bring in record crops this past year, the old Ranch owner and vaquero was blessed with a gifted mind, but simple dreams. He had been offered far more money by the US in the early days of the DSA, but had remained in Mexico, much as Mariposa had. "I can do the most good for my people here." ,, He was in the Northwest, working there, and Ming and Mariposa were at the next stop on this goodwill tour. The Centro Medico Dalinde Hospital was the place where the petite Mariposa worked tirelessly to help diagnose treat an heal the sick in Mexico City, and She met the President and Connor's Entourage at the door. She shook hands with President Lorenzo, who kissed her knuckles lightly. When she came to Connor she seemed torn, and he extended a hand to her, which she took and then embraced him fondly. "I hear the two of you are well acquainted." ,, Connor smiled. "We are old friends on excellent terms." Mariposa blushed abit and regained her composure. "Gentlemen, please, I have many who would like to meet you, and much I wish to show you." She led them through the hospital into the non secure areas and the President shook hands with those patients they passed. It had all been cleared, and many were more impressed to see him there than Connor, until they came to the children's ward. There were two dozen beds in the largest wardroom, and the curtains were drawn back, they'd been told to expect a special visitor, not two, and certainly not Connor. ,, The eyes of two dozen children lit up upon seeing their guests, and They were ablaze with excitement. Both President Lorenzo and Connor spent time with each of them, and towards the end of the visit Connor even put on a miniature show for the them between two miniature copies of himself. ,, They lef and were outside the ward room when Connor felt the first tremble. He moved fast, faster than anyone there, to Shield the President and Mariposa, and then the main force of the quake shook the city to its foundations. There was a thunderous roar as the earth shook, and a high pitch Ringing that cased him actual pain. He went metal out of reflex even as the building was beginning to crumble. The ground shook and pitched, and For a moment his mind almost blanked. The hospital was already falling around him, and soon he and everyone there would be buried in thousands of tons of debris. ,, Across the city this was replayed. The military base, the refineries, every major building, all succumbed to the force of the 8.9 earthquake as monitoring stations all across the southwest detected the massive quake. most homes suffered great damage if not destruction, and fires raged across the slums and shantytowns of the city.The police were overwhelmed communications were knocked out, and what Emergency Response services that were on the streets at the time were largely all that remained in the city. The Death Toll in that first minute was over a hundred thousand, and would climb much higher by the time things were done. ,, Beneath 80 tons of stone Connor lay braced on the ground, covering three of Lorenzo's guards, the President, and Mariposa. They had all been knocked out in the fall, and Connor woke them with his tail in his minature Black lion form. "Connor?" ,, "There was an Earthquake a bad one, The hospital is around us, in shambles. The whole city was hit. Mariposa, we have a huge problem on our hands." ,, President Lorenzo awoke with a start.."Connor?" ,, "Yes sir. " ,, "My people?" ,, "I only see the five of you..." There was no hiding his sadness. ,, "More than we have any right to have hoped for. I've never felt one like that." Connor Nodded. "This building was one of the newest, and it was flattened. Sir, I recomend you appeal for immediate international Aid. There are people dying out there, and we have to help them." ,, The passion with which Connor spoke would have brought a lesser man to tears, he had no idea what brought out this nova's earnest desire to help strangers in a country not his own, but he was thankful to God for it, and He would do exactly as he said. "Your government?" ,, "Would need a Direct appeal from you sir." ,, "Do you have a phone?" ,, "No, it was destroyed in the fall.." ,, One of the guards held his up. "Sattelite, For emergencies." ,, "Now, sir, I will be honest. When I break us out of here, We may very well cause casualties. I will be careful, but I wish to state this now." ,, President Lorenzo shook his head. "There is nothing to be done. If the damage was this bad, then I may be the only one able to make this call and make it stick." Even Mariposa could only Nod. "I can feel Ming. after you free us help me get to her, she'll help." ,, Connor Nodded, and soon metal began to flow off of him as he shifted forms again. The metal encased them looking almost spherical for a moment but soon became a hand. Then, Amidst the rubble and ruin of the Sprawling Capital, an utterly massive Gundam Strike Freedom in it's gleaming black white blue and golden glory, two hundred and thirteen feet tall towering above everything else that remained.It held up it's hand its fingers uncurling. There was not much smoke around them, only due to the wind blowing it east. "Call quickly from my platform." The call was made, and Connor gave the right number and code to signify it was from him. It went first to Director Horst, The situation was explained, and he then used his clout to pass it directly to the President. ,, "President Carlson, I respectfully request Emergency Aid for my people. Thousands lay dead, and assuredly your people detected the quake that has ravaged my capital and nearly destroyed it. Please send all that you can, to help stave off any further loss of life. I know these aren't the proper channels, but innocent lives are in grave danger, and pride an bueracracy matter very little balanced against that." ,, Connor motioned for the phone to be directed to him. "Mr. President this is assistant Director Fontenot, I request immediate preparations to mobilize what personnel we can from the DSA to come down here and help these people. I'm already standing astride a ruined hospital, every building over the size of a house is in rubble, sir, these people need us." ,, President David Carlson looked to his Cabinet and the Secretary of Defense nodded. "I can have a Regiment in the air in 3 hours." ,, The Secretary of State nodded. "It will take time to get the red cross involved, and send our own Medical teams in." ,, "President Lorenzo, I will issue an order for a regiment of troops and Army Engineers to aid you, they'll be there in roughly 12 hours. What medical personnel and supplies I can muster, as well as Fire fighting crews, I will send as well." ,, Lorenzo shook his head. Twelve hours was a miracle but far too long. "Thank you President Carlson, for your prompt reply. God bless you and the American People." ,, He closed the phone and looked crestfallen. ,, "twelve hours, there's no telling how many of us will be dead by then." ,, Connor looked at him. "Dial the first number again, ask for Director Horst, I may have a sollution.: ,, He did so. "I can't hurry them any more Connor, even with such a tragedy..." ,, "I can." ,, "What?" "Get together all our people, Make Sure Dr. Richardson is there above everyone else. She's going to be the key in this." ,, It had been thirty minutes now since the quake and the news was starting to get out Everyone wanted to know what was happening, and after Connor's first Call, the Director had already recalled all DSA nova operatives to meet in one of the auditoriums in the compound. "Alright Connor, we'll do it your way I'm having everyone in the auditorium in ten minutes I'll see you then." ,, Horst Hung up and the Mexican president looked up at him. "What are you playing at?" ,, "I will save as many as I can, even if it costs me my job." He began shrinking down setting them on the ground safely, as he took a more manageable 8m tall form without the large wings. "Now, Mariposa, lead me to Ming."..... ,, ,,
  20. This will be where we create, discuss and disect idea involving the various toys we'll be playing with throughout the UA 'game'. Use this thread as a means of offering up input and adding to our ideas so we can create a final piece of work to include in the UA universe. Consider this a work bench where we tinker with prototype ideas.
  21. Olivia woke up crying. For a moment, she was still in the jungle; it was night and she could smell the stink of bleeding bodies and feel their touch on her. For a moment, her stomach and chest hurt from the long-healed bullet wounds of that night; the wounds in her flesh faded but the agony in her heart was still there. Stifling her sobs, Olivia glanced over at the other cot in the rude hut: Sadie Lou was still sleeping, her snores barely audible over the drone of the rain. At least she hadn’t woken her roommate this time. Olivia found this a small comfort as she dragged her pillow over her head and sobbed into its stiff white cotton cover. She wept for Sean, for her innocence and for the other two people who had died. She wept because she was still afraid—scared to be alone or in a jeep at night or just scared. She wept because she was still hurt, and she didn’t know if it would ever stop hurting. Her post-nightmare crying fit took a while to run dry. When she was done, she felt exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept at all. Another day in Burma. Once, it hadn’t been like this. After meeting Sean, she’d been hopeful and happy. That woman had been a child: she’d seen the harshness of the world and still thought there was more good than evil. That woman was no more; her optimism had been murdered in the jungle with her beau. Sniffling a little, Olivia got out of bed and tugged on her ætherfiber clothing. She’d heard that some women wearing the dynamic-created clothing went without their underclothing, or even made underclothing from their ætherfiber. To her, that felt like wearing her underwear where everyone could see it and so she had proper underclothes underneath the amazing, shifting clothing. Once dressed, Olivia grabbed her satchel and umbrella. It was a rare spring rainfall in the jungles of Burma, a reminder that the summer wet was coming. Yawning a little, she picked her way through the mud, trying to keep her galoshes from splashing dirty brown water onto her white uniform. She could clean it easily, but it was unsanitary. The mess was quiet and dry. It was the latter point that was important to Olivia as she took a seat well away from the kitchen. The three negro cooks were laboring away, getting breakfast ready for the small Red Cross camp. Olivia smiled to herself as she caught snippets of their easy banter. It drove away the sting of the nightmare and left her feeling a touch better. Normalcy. That was what she needed right now. Making sure her fingers were dry, she opened her satchel and pulled out the stationery and pen. A partially composed letter was waiting for her, and the young nurse reread what she’d written yesterday. Picking up her pen, she focused for a moment and started to write. The click of a tin cup on the wooden table caught Olivia’s attention. She looked sharply up to see Carl, one of the cooks, walking away. A steaming cup of coffee sat in front of her now; when she glanced again at Carl, he winked at her. They weren’t supposed to serve food outside of the regular mealtimes, but all the colored men were coddling her in small ways. Olivia took a sip of the coffee; it wasn’t very good but most food wasn’t very good over here. It was all so strange or had to ship so long that it was no longer flavorful. The caffeine was quite welcome, and as she set the tin back down, she realized she was stalling. The young woman sighed, hoisted her pen and heavily continued writing. Olivia stopped, her fingers shaking and tears in her eyes. She couldn’t tell her mother that she’d felt glad when the men died. She’d have to rewrite this page. The young woman breathed deeply for a moment to compose herself before starting again. Someone was shouting her name, and Olivia focused on the cry. It wasn’t anyone she knew, but she was familiar with the tone. Hastily she capped her pen and refolded her papers, putting them back in the satchel just as the British soldier burst into the mess tent. He was young, with a baby-smooth face. It was the wide eyes and pale skin that made Olivia think him young; he had that shocked look that boys get from their first taste of war. “Nurse Jennings?” “Yes?” she asked, grabbing her umbrella. The boy took two steps toward her and she recoiled reflexively. He was anxious and it was making her nervous. “Ma’am, we need you at the Army hospital. One of my mates - he’s hurt real bad.” It would be very bad if the British Army was calling on her for help. That meant it was something beyond what the surgeons could do for their man. “Then let’s go,” she said, waving for him to lead the way. If it was that dire, they didn’t have time to stand about and talk.
  22. This fiction contains scene of violence, sex and sexual violence. You have been warned. Oberleutnant Otis Huber had a problem. Soldat Ralf Kappel was the third man to go AWOL this month. It wasn’t like these men were on the front lines. This was training post, in the heart of Berlin, and these men weren’t lazy or prone to delinquent behavior. Yet they had disappeared and he had the bad feeling that they weren’t the last. Fahnenjunker Koch entered the room, carrying a clipboard. “I asked the men about Kappel.” The little officious man adjusted his glasses and peered at his notes. “He did not draw duty last night—” “I am aware of the duty roster, Fahnenjunker.” It was a sign of his agitation that he cut Koch off. Normally, Huber was far more indulgent of his men; treating them without respect was a sure way to sow dissent. He softened his voice as he added, “I’m sure you have discovered something else.” Koch was many things, the foremost of which was efficient. “Of course, sir. Kappel and six other men had permission to leave the barracks and go into Berlin proper. The seven of them went to dinner and then a theatre show. Our men ran into a group from Training Division Kurland at the bar after the movie. Kappel and another soldat named Niklas Fleischer decided to leave for…” Koch paused and twitched his lips in distaste. “A house of ill repute.” “Soldiers will be soldiers,” Huber replied, taking a sip of his tea. In truth, the thought disgusted him, but he had been a young man once. It would be better for the troops to frequent brothels than for their manly pressures to build until they were tempted into viler activities. “Yes, sir.” The repugnance hadn’t left Koch’s face. “I took the liberty of visiting Kurland.” This is why Koch was his assistant; he would not only take initiative, but he knew when to do so and when to refrain. Huber allowed Koch to see his pleasure as he asked, “Anything of note?” “Yes, Oberleutnant. I learned that Soldat Fleischer is missing as well.” Koch’s smugness seemed out of proportion until he added, “I have a friend in the Personnel department and learned that there are many disappearances within the ranks.” Huber’s eyes narrowed. When he spoke again, his words were enunciated precisely enough to cut. “How many disappearances?” “Ten men in twelve nights.” Huber inhaled slightly, dread easing into his bones. Ten was not so many… but ten was the start of an avalanche, in his opinion. Ten men abandoning their posts on the front lines during a losing battle was expected. That many in the heart of the Reich while on training was too many. Personnel should have seen these losses—only Fleischer and Kappel hadn’t been reported. Eight was better than ten; perhaps the head of Personnel had told himself one more and I report. Perhaps he had already reported. Huber snatched up his phone. Regardless of what the head of personnel had done, Huber was about to report this trend. His superior, Hauptmann Schneider, valued men who were reactionary rather than passive. And while Schneider hated to be bothered with needless details, Huber’s instincts were telling him that this was important.
  23. For Ayato, The time since the last mission had been spent getting used to his "Enhancements." He was much faster than he'd ever been before. beyond that his physical strength was so much greater. Dr. Goro sat there watching him as he went through his exercises, mostly writing on a small notebook, his observations. ,, "That last lift was over a metric Ton Ayato." "I can still do more, Doctor. I just don't see more weight." ,, Dr. Goro nodded. "Perhaps there may be another way within the systems, i will make some inquiries for you." ,, "Thank you. Have you assessed any of the others?" ,, "No, Captain, I have not. You are the first, though I left an open invitation to any others who may wish to quantify the effects of the enhancements. No one has yet replied." ,, Ayato nodded, and he seemed to shimmer, then vanish altogether. "That makes you more like a Ninja than you think." ,, Ayato appeared a dozen feet away, with not a single sound. "Special Operations Training helps there too." ,, "Do you have any further exercises you wish to see here, or shall we move on?" ,, "Run through your high speed Kata one more time, and we can move to the range." ,, Ayato nodded, and began moving at a speed very few could keep up with, his movements perfectly precise, yet moving as water, smoothly.
  24. Please leave comments, conjecture, questions, and reviews here. Rules are: be courteous and helpful; critiques are welcome, belittling is not. ,, Thank you for reading and taking the time to discuss!
  25. Abbey - Communal living accommodation for nuns. No abbeys exist for men in Children of Heaven. ,, Family - When used with a capital in reference to a nephilim bloodline, it refers to nephilim families of high "purity", or angelic ancestry, influence, resources, and connections. A family is usually composed of multiple Households of the adult members of the family, with children often living most of their lives at home. ,, First - The terms used by therianthropes for their leaders, usually coupled with a geographical or social tag, such as the First of South America or the First of the Ailuranthropes (cat shifters). There is also the First, who is the leader of all therianthropes. The term of First is gained through a democratic vote, with acts of bravery, martial prowess, and personal magnetism determining most votes. Flood, The - The flooding of the World by human Sanctified that ended the ancient Nephilim empire roughly five thousand years ago. The Flood broke up the original single landmass of the World and reconfigured the world and oceans to their modern locations. ,, Humanity - The children of Seth, third son of Adam and the Eve, and his three wives. Humans carry the divine gift to perform miracles and claim that they are the chosen people of God, having souls and free of the sin of Caine. Humanity controls most lands considered "First World" countries in our world. ,, Kizora - A nephilim that is not considered a child but is not considered adult yet because they have not established their own Household. ,, Metatron - The Voice of God, the only angel that God communicates directly with. ,, Miracles - Magical abilities possessed by humans. They include healing, repairing broken objects, cleansing items and people, creating everything from fire to simple items, flight, etc. More specifics to be added as we come up with them. ,, Monastery - Facilities for both men and women (always separate facilities) for those that commit sins against the Church but not actual crimes. Like asylums of the Victorian era, many methods are used to "rehabilitate" those sent to monasteries. Very few people sent to monasteries are released again, almost always women and universally broken in spirit. They are usually kept out of sight by their families and take up menial tasks in their family's homes. ,, Nephilim - The bastard children of the Second Woman and God's angels. They wield glamour, the ability to cast illusions, and are inhumanly beautiful. They also emit a glow, the stronger the glow the greater the angelic heritage of the nephilim. Nephilim are confined to small islands around the world, neither humans nor therianthropes will let nephilim get a foothold on any mainland. Nephilim lifespans are directly tied to the strength of their angelic heritage, ranging from human average to centuries; it is rumored that there truly ancient nephilim still living in the World. ,, Nephilim Empire - The first empire of the World, created and ruled by the nephilim, with humans and therians as slave races. ,, Nun - A human woman that has taken vows as a Daughter of Seth, forsaking marriage and children to pursue magical and professional ambitions otherwise denied to women in human society. Nuns that run an abbey are referred to as Revered Sister, and nuns that are particularly respected in their field of choice are called Sister Superiors, usually with their area of expertise added (the Sister Superior of Engineering at Brightenburg Abbey). All inventions, discoveries, and advancements made by nuns are considered the property of and created by the Church. Any nun or her family that takes personal pride in the accomplishments of the nun is considered prideful and crass. ,, Praisya - Nephilim word for slave. ,, Pirajana - Nephilim word for servant. ,, Prophet, The - The head of the Church, and technically elected by the Cardinals after the death of the previous Prophet. In practice, Prophets usually designate an heir before they die that is then voted in by the Cardinals. It has happened before that a designated heir was not voted in, but only once. The first Prophet was a human that (at least claimed) the Metatron spoke to him, instructing him in how to organize humanity to cause the Flood and end the nephilim empire. ,, Sanctified - Humans with significant talent in miracles. ,, Ser - Unisex nephilim term of respect. ,, Sentinels - A clerical order of soldiers that oversees the security of nuns and pursues profane crimes - crimes that specifically violate the tenets of the Church. ,, Sumaya - The head of a nephilim's Household. ,, Therianthropes - The children of Lilith and Caine, therianthropes have the ability to shift between humanoid and animal forms. Therians control most of the "Second World" and "Third World" territories in the world. They lost control of North America to humans only a generation ago; some therians even still remember living on the continent. Therians usually live a few decades longer than humans. ,, Wives of Seth - When each son of Adam was born, it was with a twin sister. God commanded that Caine's twin sister be Abel's wife and Abel's twin be Caine's. Caine's twin decided she preferred Caine over Abel and seduced the younger brother. When Caine confronted Abel to officially claim her as his second wife, the brothers quarreled and Caine murdered Abel. Caine was expelled from the family and both women were given to the third son Eve bore afterwards, who also had a twin sister. Thus Seth came to have three wives, which is now the legal limit for a man in the human empire. ,, Woman, First - Lilith, created at the same time as Adam. She refused to be submissive to Adam and left him. ,, Woman, Second - Created from dust just as Adam and Lilith had been, but Adam refuted her as he had watched God create her and was disgusted to see the innards of a human. She left without having been given the Breath of Life, a soul, by God or a name by Adam. She is also known as the Nameless One. ,, Woman, Third - Eve, Adam's second wife and the mother of Abel, Caine, and Seth and their twin sisters.
×
×
  • Create New...