A Superhero Game: Alternate RP Thread

[BloodyAngel]

Here it be, all... the aforementioned thread for finishing out roleplaying scenes that will take time... without slowing down the game. Everyone is welcome to use it of course... Even for just random improvised backround stuff! Enjoy!

Oh... and you drifters who wandered in by mistake! Don't post here! This is only for side-track roleplaying that we are putting in another place to avoid slowing down the main game.

If you are truly interested in putting on a ski-mask and fighting crime... Here is the main game recruitment thread! http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=60095

Join up if you like (and the DM allows). The game is VERY active and a hell of a lot of fun!

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

OOC: Hey, sorry about the lag in reply time, I worked last night, and haven't been feeling all that well the last few days. Additionally, I don't have a job in which I can think about my PC's next action, and write up posts to this thread (which seems to be the case for several of our players considering their posting average)!

Although I noticed that everyone else wrapped up all of their actions on Day 1 in the main forum (except the Vox P. and one or two others), I have a feeling we may take a few posts to resolve things, so I'm posting here. If absolutely necessary, we can always import our interaction there if it ends up being shorter than expected.

In any case, I'll have my response to your last post up within the hour.

-TOA

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Last IC post for Tasha:

Spoiler

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Tasha

(Well crap crap crap crappity crap! I didn't know ol' dark and brooding could sense supers passively. *waves goodbye to her secret ID*)

Did he just... No... good guess... that's all. Stop being paranoid! Tasha chided herself internally as Draven spoke about the club and it's atmosphere.

It's alright... Plenty of people make that assumption. At least you didn't assume that I write morbid poetry and secretly want to be a vampire. Tasha will say with a laugh, and settle in at the bar.

I'm actually late because I spent all day watching the stupid news, thinking my class tomorrow was canceled. I just found out it's not... and I have a paper due. Which I should be doing right now but... I didn't want you think I stood you up. She will explain... only partially true... but better than confessing that she spent half the day possessing a boy from their school. But I'm here now, and I may as well skip tomorrow if I'm not going to have my paper due so... I'm up for staying out all night if you are.

Tasha smiled, her black lipstick a sharp contrast to her pale skin and long dark hair.

I... have no idea what half of those drinks are... so... I'll just have a screwdriver.

Tasha will pay for her drink herself... and show off her fake ID, if need be. She's only 20, technically... and small enough that she's often mistaken for younger.

Draven/Oblivion

"Oh, I just assumed the poetry and vampire obsession was a given", he said nonchalantly, appreciating her laughter...and briefly envying her barstool as he continued to...adjust to his new abilities. She seemed to be enjoying herself, but was a tad bit nervous about something...with her reputation, I figured she'd be acting a lot different than this, but then again, that's why you asked her out, isn't it? To take a chance on something different.

He smiled warmly the first genuine one of the day as she finished her second statement, responding after a momentary pause brought about by her smile,"I have a feeling that there's going to be a fair amount of skipping going on tommorrow, and if I had to guess, I'd say that you turning in that one paper a day late isn't going to mean your grade...but all night? Are you sure you can handle it?" he says, looking at her under his eyes, an eyebrow raised in mock querry. this is more like the Tasha I had heard about, but maybe it's more than that....

"Let me make you a little proposition," he said, making a diplomatic gesture as he spoke, "we'll spend the next few hours together, being as honest and unpretentions as possible, and then go from there. Agreed?"

After she orders her drink, hiding his smirk of amusement as much as possible, while with similar efforts in that vein signaling to Andy to use the top shelf Vox Vodka, he continued, provided she agrees to his proposition one way or another.

"In leu of such an effort, may I be so bold as to suggest that me relocate to somewhere slightly more private?" He leaned in conspiratorally "Bartenders are notorious gossips", making the last statement in tones of mock seriousness while making a subtle gestrure and glancing towards the back of the Club where there appeared to be heavily curtained booths in recessed alcoves.

"But first, a toast," he says, raising his glass, the red amber drink within catching the little ambient light nicely, "To new begginings, new experiences, and the positive outcome of both", finishing as Andy delivers Tasha's drink, and waits patiently for her to respond in kind.

OOC: If you could kindly tell me what the powerlevel of each of her unactivated powers are. That is, how many CP you spend on 2nd round enhancements, as well as the CP cost of any other powers she has that are constantly, or currently active.
Please don't specifically name them (seems obvious, but I thought I'd ask just in case you hadn't thought to do so).

[BloodyAngel]

Tasha

(Actually... I don't think any of Tasha's powers... save perhaps one, are constant. The one that is, cost 5 points... and her other enhancements, by which, i am guessing you mean stat boosts, come in at 4 and 5 points respectively... Or 9 total. Her other powers cost 22 and 23 points... and aren't active... so I don't know if you can sense them. I'll be honest, I have no idea how the sensing powers thing works.)

How many of those have you had? You speak like my English professor. Tasha will say with a smirk, looking to Draven's drink and picking up her own for a sip, Don't worry about the class... I'm doing just fine. As long as I go sometime this week, I'll be alright.

The slender girl will put away a good quarter of her drink without issue, glancing back to the secluded booths that Draven pointed out.

He can't possibly be trying to get me alone already. God-damned Kevin! It's his fault half the school thinks I'm easy! She chided herself internally, Ok. Ok... Calm down. Maybe if I just let him know I'm not like that... he'll be alright. He seemed nice enough in class. I suppose I could always look in his head and find out....

As she raised her glass to Draven's, a bit more distracted than he, she scolded herself.

Ok... This is seriously becoming an addiction. At this rate, I'm not going to trust anyone until I pick through their brain! We're in a public place, and I have pepper-spray. Why am I worried? Heather said he's a really nice guy... and she's a good judge of people. She told herself, and finally smiled. Not bad to look at either.

Look... I don't know what you heard, alright? But as long as you just want to talk and have a few drinks... that's fine. But if you think you're going to get lucky just like that, because you heard about that party at Kevin Baker's place... Tasha will say in dead serious tone... before a smirk spreads across her lips and she laughs the rest, I'm going to need more alcohol.

She laughed, hoping he would as well. That stupid party had given her a pretty bad rep around school... mostly because Kevin couldn't shut his stupid mouth. She made a mental note to jump into his head one of these days and make him get caught breaking into the girl's showers or something...

Tasha will slip off her seat and head with Draven to the curtained area... Figuring that if it gets really bad, she can always possess the boy and make him hit himself in the groin a few times. That would take the wind out of anyone's sails.

Once they are inside, she'll sit down on whatever passes for a chair/couch back here, and sip a bit more of her drink.

So... She'll say with a confident smile, What did you want to talk about exactly? I don't mind being honest... It's usually guys who have trouble with that.

[BloodyAngel]

I have to do who with the what now? Who the heck is Stickman?

I think you need to erase your own post... I'm not allowed for some reason. Probably sexism.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

In the background, Portis Head's "Only You" video fades in, making conversation easy enough, the underwater stopmotion antics of the video both haunting and beautiful.

Chuckling lightly, he says as she downs a large portion of her drink like a pro.,"Your English professor eh? I'll take that as a complement I suppose...although if I happen to lose you, or have already done so, don't be shy about letting me know ok?" the final statement made in subtly playful tones.

Slightly more seriously he says,"Good to hear that you grades won't suffer due to one night of...irrisponsibility. Although I would have understood if you didn't show, I would have been a little hurt to find out you ditched me for a paper asignment", gently elbowing her playfully as he spoke.

He examines her face as he makes his proposal and toast, trying to gauge her response, not sure how she would recieve it.


Although he knew it might seem forward, it was a risk he felt he needed to take. Not that sensing her all night would be unpleasant by any means. He didn't know if she knew what she was capable of, hell, he didn't know what he was capable of either, or how their abilities would even interact.
Although the option of simply getting away from her was a viable one, she was the only reasonably sane person who had been altered as he had that he'd met, or heard about, so far, and he wasn't about to give up on that so easily. It can't be an accident that we are both here right now. I have to believe in that.

His face fell as she mentioned some rumor that he had never heard about but that sounded sufficiently awful to make it pretty clear what she though were his true intentions...until she it became clear she was joking...mostly, and she laughed at her own joke.
Draven smiled and managed a throaty chuckle, offering in response "Hey I don't know anything about...but I do tend to get a lot of bang for my buck at this bar, so do take it easy. We wouldn't want a repeat of anything like that...". He gives her a sly grin, getting up as she does, and lead the way to the booths in the back.

Entering the code into the tastefully concealed password pad and waiting as the heavy weighted curtains slid aside, he stepped inside and waited for her to enter and seat herself before pressing the button to return the curtain to the closed position. Proceeding to sit down himself, positioning himself across from her, he made himself comfortable on the seat of the circular booth, putting his feet up on one of the foot stools available. I love this place.

He leaned back, resting his head, closing his eyes, and putting his arms up on the back of the seat, luxuriating in the sensation of the soft sued seats, and the lithe young woman seated across from him, the sensation of her skirt plastered momentarily across her thighs as she settled herself, the feeling of her lips on the rim of her glass, all "seen" without his physical eyes.

That horrible feelings abated he realized abruptly, lifting his head and looking at her with an unreadable look as she asked her question. I wonder if that's her power, he thought ruefully. But I guess that's just the romantic in me, hoping that there's a bright side to the horrible potential of this situation; and that hope being embodied in this woman I barely know...he understood it was too much to hope for.

"I'm glad to hear that, because I much prefer honesty over the alternative as well. I've also found that I have a hard time getting along with dishonest people, hard to see eye to eye and all.
Interesting that you have that problem with guys, I seem to have the same one with the girls. In the end, as I'm sure you probably know, it's not really about gender at all. But, it's nice to know I've met an exception to the norm".

He smiles faintly across at her, languidly leaning forward, crossing his legs 'indian style', and resting his hands on his thighs. "As far as what I wanted to discuss, it was mainly what's been going on today, and how it's going to affect, or has affected, us".
He paused a moment, letting her assimilate his words, realizing then, how the subject of this conversation could, by it's very nature, permenantly alienate her from him, if she was simply unable or unwilling to come to grips with her change. I have to proceed with the utmost caution.

---

* post roll count doesn't match database

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

I didn't even bother to look at the last roll, I was too busy noticing how I had missed text coloring my speech.

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Sense Motive Roll:(1d20+3)[11]

[BloodyAngel]

Tasha

(I shall go on the assumption that the first post is the right one... and the second one was accidentally cut short somehow. If I'm wrong, let me know.)

And in one fell swoop... she jumped right back from calm and comfortable... to freaking out!

Holy hell... that's... he... FOCUS! Tasha will run through thoughts at breakneck speed, He knows!? How does he know? Did he know where I was that night? No... that doesn't make sense. He doesn't even know which room my dorm is. HE can't know... but he does. @#$%! How could he have found out... unless.... Oh god... he's probably a mutant too and he's reading my mind!

At which point, Tasha will try very hard to concentrate on things other than her deeply held, important, secret thoughts.... which will, of course... cause her to think about her deeply held, important, secret thoughts. Brilliant.

In perhaps a desperate attempt to keep her secret, Tasha will try to turn the question around at him, while trying to hide her panic. What are you saying? You.... Were you in the chemical blast? Is that what you're trying to say? Are you one of them?

The entire while, Tasha will ATTEMPT to hide her thoughts by going through the song "99 bottles of beer on the wall" in her head. She won't dare try to read his thoughts or the like... fearing that he would know what she was trying to do and would then know that she can read minds...

Granted... intentionally telling herself to not read his mind will PROBABLY give away that she can read minds if he is, in fact, reading her mind. She's new to this whole telepathy thing.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

OOC:

Spoiler

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Umm, yes, the correct post in now all that remains. Please make changes as you see fit. It seems though that the post I've been working on for the last 30min. has been lost to a cyber space demon. I'll try and repost later tonight after I return from work.
PS: After your revelation that your highest passive power level would 9, the description should read "Like a cherry bomb in a martini glass, waiting to be lit", but I figure I'll leave it as is, since she's the first super he's ever sensed.
PPS: Isn't NOT knowing my powers a lot more fun?

[dfpiii]

((This post is just for those nosy buggers, like myself, who enjoy reading everybody else's posts and backstory. Geez3r, this changes a few cosmetic elements of the backstory, because I rushed it a bit at character creation))

EDIT: Apparently this bulletin board doesn't like the shortened form of the name "Richard". So whenever you see **** - that's what it is, it's short for Richard.



Lachlan Dark, Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Lachlan fidgeted. He was sweating bullets - why on earth was this building always so damn hot? He thought about opening a window. Was he allowed to open a window? Maybe he'd upset someone if he let the cold air in. Maybe these windows were supposed to stay shut. Or maybe this was a test of ingenuity; he was supposed to open a window because they had made it too hot!

"Oh get a grip," he said to himself. Then looked nervously up and down the corridor to check nobody had heard him. The corridor was otherwise empty.

The door he was sitting next to opened and he shot out of his seat. Standing he was a bit under 6 feet, but looked shorter and quite unassuming. He was thin, dark-haired and pale - if he'd been more outgoing and sociable he'd have been a Goth, but instead he was a physicist, or more correctly a mechanician as his Masters was in applied mechanics.

Professors D L McKinnon and H H Brown looked on from inside the room, while Professor Arnold "****" Turpin held the door open.

"Come on lad, we wont bite," said Turpin. The old man clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder and all but pushed Dark through the door when his legs proved unresponsive. He continued shoving all the way up to the table and then pushed Dark into a seat. Dark continued to sweat, he was glad he'd worn his black suit, because he had soaked it through. "Have a drink of water," Turpin said, actually putting the glass in his hand.

All the while McKinnon had fixed Dark with that characteristic vulpine stare from over his steepled fingers. Brown had received a message on her Blackberry and her attention was diverted while she responded.

A more diverse group of three professors it would be impossible to assemble from the MIT faculty. Brown had been a Rhodes Scholar and won the Fields Medal in 2002 for advanced work on fractal geometry. Although only just 40, she was already being talked about as the greatest female contributor to the field of mathematics. Like all mathematicians Dark had met, she was only ever half in the room.

McKinnon was more of a politician than an academic. He had advanced far in his field (biomechanics) because he had made many friends in DC and knew exactly who to speak to. He had been an advisor on government policy in this area to the Bush administration during its early years, but had, with typical cunning, easily distanced himself when things started to go seriously wrong. He was a good scientist, but due to his connections would ensure he was recognised and remembered as a great one.

Arnold "****" Turpin was a legend at MIT. There were pictures of him in the rowing team from his student days in the late 1960s. He had a full beard even back then, which had subsequently turned snowy white, but his glinting, dancing eyes remained the same. As a student it was rumoured he had painted the statue of John Harvard in psychedelic colours - John Harvard being the benefactor and de facto founder of the other school up the river. He never spoke about the incident - because it was also rumoured the cleaning bill was still outstanding - which only added to the story's folkloric charm.

Turpin had been forgiven his youthful - and not so youthful - indiscretions when he won his first Noble prize. And when he won his second it was pretty much accepted that he could, if he wished, egg the President's house every night of the week. Turpin was the reason Dark was here. He had seen him at his undergraduate interview and taken an instant liking to him.

"So, you'd like to undertake your PhD with us?" McKinnon asked, because he enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

"Yes, Professor," Dark replied. Turpin took a chair that was midway between Dark and the others.

"I've read your transcripts, your approach is workmanlike, uninspired - mediocre," said McKinnon, who also enjoyed to inflict casual cruelties because he could. "What makes you think you're capable of the kind of rigour needed to produce doctoral work?" At this point Brown put away her Blackberry - it was not clear she'd been listening to the conversation up to this point.

Dark cleared his throat. "I think that refinement of scientific knowledge is a process well-served by care and attention to detail. In every aspect of my work I am careful and considered. Before ever writing a solution I am well-versed in current theory. I think my approach is always scientific and that I am naturally suited to academic enquiry". He had memorised that response.

"Did you memorise that?" McKinnon asked.

"Plenty of good work is done by workmen," Turpin interjected. McKinnon’s eyes did not move from Dark for a moment. "A solid approach is the foundation of science and not something to criticise".

"Let's talk about your proposed area of study," said Brown, who was not so far removed that she missed the tension between the two other professors.

Here Dark was on much more familiar footing. He explained his ideas on stress-spreading in metals and the approach that could be taken to limit the spread of microfractures using a "molecular honeycomb". His calculations, which were extensive already by this point, showed that he could reduce the weight of an aircraft hull by between 3% and 11%, depending on the type of aircraft, while theoretically increasing the strength and the lifespan of the aircraft by up to a quarter.

"Hmmm," said Brown, visualising the implications of her own equations - which Dark had referenced in the work. "This would have considerable application in space-based technology, where weight and strength are more important considerations than production cost. ****, you think this will work?"

"Rigid foam works in much the same way," Turpin replied. "It's the same basic theory, but it's never been done with aluminium - or any other metal". The old man added, entirely for McKinnon’s benefit, "It could be worth a bit of money".

McKinnon rolled his eyes and settled them down on Turpin. "Very well".

"I agree," said Brown.

"Congratulations," Turpin said and Dark rose to shake his offered hand. "The committee is pleased to award you a National Defense Science and Engineering Graduate Fellowship".


Dr Lachlan Dark, Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Five years were nothing. Dark pursued that workmanlike approach relentlessly and after a two years managed to create stable molecular honeycomb which retained stability in extreme cold and heat. It was still too technically demanding for scaled production, but he - jointly with MIT - had his first patents.

He wrote home to his father, who died shortly afterwards, that "I have made my Dark material perform wonders". He never received a reply, but his father was an English teacher and he was sure he would have appreciated the reference.

After writing up and publishing his findings, he was given his doctorate and offered a teaching position at MIT by Professor Turpin.

Lachlan Dark had always seen those who were more gifted than him enjoy greater success for less work. That didn't bother him, because they could no more decide how smart they were than he could. It was the other kind of people he had grown to despise, those who came from generations of affluence and didn't work for anything.

They bought whatever they wanted. Cars, houses, position, and the appearance of academic achievement. It was soon after he began teaching that he encountered the worst, and best, example of this.

Scott Frobisher came from old money. His great grandfather had been an industrialist before the word existed and his direct male line - like the descendants of an ancient king - had been men of power.

Scott had decided that he wanted an undergraduate degree in engineering from MIT - though he would almost certainly go up river to law school when he was finished. Scott wasn't stupid, he was just average and arrogant, which meant the quality of work he handed in was dreadful.

Dark entered no record for their class on his first year transcript - this was MIT's traditional way of covering failure in difficult subjects for new students. He was called into the office of the President and informed - in the politest of terms - that he might want to reconsider the grade. Scott had been under a lot of pressure in his personal life. The grade was changed to an A. Dark did not raise an objection.

Dark who would have crawled through broken glass - and more: he studied - for every A he received, just passed one out like it meant nothing.

These thoughts of injustice filled his mind as he began the long walk from the river-side campus to his own cheap housing nearby. He had stayed late to grade papers, because it was easier than carrying them all home and back to work again.

He observed in the distance on the quiet road a couple of his students having an argument. Elaine Smith and Scott Frobisher had been sitting next to each other in class for a few weeks - which he understood to mean they were dating. Elaine was classically beautiful, but also head and shoulders smarter than Scott, smarter than Dark too, so whatever the argument was about Dark was certain he would have sided with her.

As he walked a little nearer he thought about coughing - they hadn't seen him and he hated to intrude on other people's personal lives. The argument was getting rather heated and Scott in particular seemed --

He slapped her. Dark stopped dead.

It seemed like they all stopped and the moment of time stretched out impossibly long.

Elaine moved first and slapped Scott back, though she had nowhere near his strength. Scott was an athlete who, with a little dedication and different parents, might have been a professional football player.

All that spring-coiled muscle was released in a single fist blow to Elaine's face. The sound of her nose breaking carried a long way in the cold night air. Dark heard it perfectly. He might have stepped in at that point, as Elaine staggered back between two parked cars. But a taxi, turning too fast onto the street, didn't see her in time, didn't stop in time and threw her fifteen feet down the street where she landed with a sickening thud.

Scott was terrified. He had just watched his future vanish. He might avoid prison, but he'd never escape the scandal - that would stay with him and his family forever. And his was not a family which forgave scandal.

But then the taxi driver stepped out. The driver blurted it out - "I wasn't looking - I didn't see her - oh my god". As the driver quickly radioed for an ambulance, Scott smiled. He looked so relieved. He had gotten away with it.

Right then, if Dark could have, he would have smashed the smiling face into the road. And when Scott finally saw Dark, and saw that look in his eyes, the smile vanished.

Before the ambulance arrived, before the police arrived, Scott arrived at Dark's ear.

"Don't say anything," he urged, his eyes wide with desperation. It was clear he didn't know whether to bargain or threaten, but Dark knew he had the means to do either. "You get me through this and you're set, man. It was an accident. Just don't say anything".

If it had happened during the day, he wouldn't have wavered for a moment. He would have been fresh and awake, he wouldn't have been at work until the middle of the night before walking home to his craphole apartment. He wouldn't have been as terrified by the sight of black blood on the black road and he wouldn't have wondered what threats Scott could make real if he refused.

But all those things were true.

At 3:30 AM the phone in Dr Lachlan Dark's apartment rang. He didn't remember if he was sleeping or just lying with his eyes closed wishing he was asleep. He picked up the phone.

"Doctor Lachlan Dark?" asked the voice. He confirmed that he was. "This is the Vice Chancellor at RIT".

"Did I leave something on?"

"Not MIT, Doctor Dark, The Randolph Institute of Technology in Rainport. I'm calling to offer you the job as Dean of the School of Applied Mechanics".

"...Is this a joke?"

"It is not a joke, Doctor Dark. I do not make prank calls in the middle of the night. The post has substantial benefits including accommodation, a tenured professorship and an appropriate salary. I have been asked to urge you to accept this offer".

He paused for a moment. "...How appropriate?"

The Vice Chancellor told him.

"Are you sure there are supposed to be that many zeros?"

The Vice Chancellor informed him that the figure was correct and the package was extremely generous - which Dark guessed meant "more than I get" and "more than you'll ever get anywhere else".

"When do you want me to start?"

"Monday".

"But I need to give notice".

"I am told that your resignation was submitted to the President of MIT four weeks ago and accepted and your contract terminated... 3 hours and 32 minutes ago. I will see you on Monday... no, wait, blast, it will have to be Sunday. We'll arrange for you to stay at a hotel. Good night, Professor".

He put the phone down.

Nothing so sordid as a bribe had been mentioned, and nothing so brutal as a threat had been made. The Vice Chancellor - whose name he didn't catch - almost certainly didn't know the details of why any of this was happening. But it was happening.

He had been bought-off. It was within the gift of some indifferent plutocrat to purchase his silence - because it was less messy than simply killing him.

He packed his things and, calling his landlord, discovered that the landlord expected him to move out on Friday. The landlord had received a visitor first thing that morning, who paid the next month's rent and told him Dark was moving out.

The plane to Rainport had been booked and the taxi was waiting to take him to the hotel at the other side. He already knew what was happening, of course. They had made it so easy to go along. If he were to change his mind now nobody would believe him. Though he wouldn't change his mind; he liked the idea of finally getting everything he wanted - given to him, without the years of hard work.

He wanted this now and he would fight tooth and nail to keep it.

But when he saw Elaine's broken face in his dreams it drove him out of his comfortable hotel to the streets of Rainport. He would take a long, winding walk to burn off his anxiety and when he got back he would go to bed.

And never dream of her again.


((We now return you to your scheduled programming ))

[evisiron]

...
((We now return you to your scheduled programming ))

That.. was... brilliant!

[dfpiii]

That.. was... brilliant!

Thanks

[PlasticSoldier]

That was a good backstory. Almost makes me wish Scott was a mutant so that we could introuduce him to pre-redemption Reaper

[BloodyAngel]

Your long and awesomely dramatic post makes ours look crap by comparison! Therefore, I ask you to misspell more words or something at least, so I can at least be proud of my superior spelling and grammar.

Seriously though... that was awesome. Sadly, Tasha probably doesn't have a tragic and interesting backstory. She's only 20, after all... and save a shrew of a mother and a bad break up in high school... she's never really done much of importance. Still... maybe I can come up with something. Perhaps a drug-addled past of some sort.

[Wiz]

I am amazed at your writing ability. I hate Professor Dark's amorality, but I love the way you present him.

[dfpiii]

Your long and awesomely dramatic post makes ours look crap by comparison! Therefore, I ask you to misspell more words or something at least, so I can at least be proud of my superior spelling and grammar.

Sory, I will trie to do wurse in the futur

I'm enjoying your back and forth in the nightclub - though to be honest, I'm not seeing Draven getting any action any time soon

Thanks everybody. I hope to see more about everybody else's characters, because, as I pointed out, I'm a snoop.

[BloodyAngel]

Sory, I will trie to do wurse in the futur

I'm enjoying your back and forth in the nightclub - though to be honest, I'm not seeing Draven getting any action any time soon

Thanks everybody. I hope to see more about everybody else's characters, because, as I pointed out, I'm a snoop.

If he doesn't get off his brooding rear end and post soon... I don't see him getting anything! I'm giving him two days, then assuming Tasha possesses him, empties his bank account and runs up every credit card she finds on him... and uses it all to fund his brand new sex change!

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Tasha

(I shall go on the assumption that the first post is the right one... and the second one was accidentally cut short somehow. If I'm wrong, let me know.)

And in one fell swoop... she jumped right back from calm and comfortable... to freaking out!

Holy hell... that's... he... FOCUS! Tasha will run through thoughts at breakneck speed, He knows!? How does he know? Did he know where I was that night? No... that doesn't make sense. He doesn't even know which room my dorm is. HE can't know... but he does. @#$%! How could he have found out... unless.... Oh god... he's probably a mutant too and he's reading my mind!

At which point, Tasha will try very hard to concentrate on things other than her deeply held, important, secret thoughts.... which will, of course... cause her to think about her deeply held, important, secret thoughts. Brilliant.

In perhaps a desperate attempt to keep her secret, Tasha will try to turn the question around at him, while trying to hide her panic. What are you saying? You.... Were you in the chemical blast? Is that what you're trying to say? Are you one of them?

The entire while, Tasha will ATTEMPT to hide her thoughts by going through the song "99 bottles of beer on the wall" in her head. She won't dare try to read his thoughts or the like... fearing that he would know what she was trying to do and would then know that she can read minds...

Granted... intentionally telling herself to not read his mind will PROBABLY give away that she can read minds if he is, in fact, reading her mind. She's new to this whole telepathy thing.

OOC: Ummm, YIKES! Ok, OK, I'm posting! Did I mention that I lost my last post due to some bizzar internet snafu?
I'd comment on the "good dr.'s" (a very loose usage of such terms), but I honestly haven't had the time to read it.


Draven/Oblivion

Draven, having noticed Tasha's increased agitation at the current subject, raised both his hands palm out, saying,"Hey, calm down, why are you getting so defensive?" he says, giving her a quizzical smirk.

"What I'm saying is, there is need for an alternative to be offered to those that have changed. An alternative that isn't offered by the government. We are capable of being the first to offer such an alternative. What I'm saying is, things are happening very fast, and if we don't adapt quickly, we're going to lose our opportunity to make any choices for ourselves at all."

He leans forward casually, slowly putting his feet on the ground in an effort not to startle her into doing anything rash I have to be careful, there's really no telling what she's capable of.

Looking at her with sincerity in his striking gray eyes, he continues saying, "I don't know about you, but I'd like to know someone had my back in case someone like The Reaper, or spirits forbid, The Man, tried to use their powers on me...and I was really hoping you'd feel the same way." a look of disgust at the mention of The Man being the only respite from his earnest expression as he spoke these words.

He sighs wearily,"I know this might be difficult for you, maybe you've had some negative experiences with people in general, guys in particular, but remember what I said about honesty and lack of pretense? Before we continue, try and entertain the possibility, for a moment, that I'm doing exactly that, while you try and do the same ok?"

He gets up, casually takes his coat off and undoes the top button of his untucked black dress shirt, revealing the top of his well sculpted pecs. He takes a step toward Tasha, picking up his drink from where he set it down, taking a long pull but all the while surreptitiously watching Tasha out of the corner of his eye and listening as she responds.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

empties his bank account and runs up every credit card she finds on him... and uses it all to fund his brand new sex change!

OOC: I apologize, I read this incorrectly the first time. That threat's not as scary as I first thought...he's wondered more than once what it would be like to be a lesbian.
I'm sure it'd only be a matter of time before Tasha converted.

EDIT: I've now read your post D., and yes, it deserved the rave reviews it recieved. I acutally found myself suprised by the turn of events, which, in my book is the sign of a good writier.

In general, this game has, somewhat to my suprise, attracted a fair amount of decent writers. This is something I am grateful for, although it forces me to continuously struggle with your rabid posting rate.

BTW BloodyAngel, thanks for the generous time frame before you self destruct. This should be resolved in only a few more posts.

[BloodyAngel]

Tasha

Well @#$%. Will be all that flashes through her mind, as it hits her like a cold chill that she can't hide anymore. She could lie... but what good would it do now?

Tasha sighed and slumped back into her chair, her eyes flitting closed for a moment, as if she were suddenly very tired... or maybe, scared?

Be quiet. I don't want to advertise that, alright? I don't know how this happened or why... but I'm guessing it wasn't an accident. At least, not all of it. That kind of stuff only happens in comic books and cheesy role-playing games. She will say in a muted voice, I think the stuff that blew up was meant to do exactly what it did... What it wasn't meant to do... was expose a few dozen of the locals to it. Even if someone wasn't behind this whole mess... you can bet that there are going to be people who try to exploit it... and exploit us. And I don't want them coming within a county mile of knowing what I am!

Tasha will slip her arms around herself nervously, looking down to the floor as the dip of her head causes her hair to drift over her face in a dark curtain. The black-painted fingernails of one delicate hand will nervously trace a shapeless pattern on her arm. When she finally does look up, her voice will be a soft plea.

How did you know?

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

He raises a curious eyebrow as she makes her first statement about "advertising", but chooses not to interrupt. As she said "what I am", a faint look of realization graced his features briefly, his eyes ever empathetic.

As she finishes, his look softens minutely, and he lowers himself to one knee beside her with a consolatory look on his face, although still keeping a safe distance from her, resisting the urge as if I'm drawn by something that transcends emotion or desire to reach out to her.

He observed her vulnerable body language, her alabaster arms encircling her small frame defensively, expressing without words her desire to protect herself, her fear that she would be hurt yet again.

In the back of his mind, almost grudgingly, he had to admit to himself, the closer he was to her, the better he felt, the rasping, twisting, empty feeling continuing to lessen into almost non-existence.

That scared him, and he didn't know why. But he was determined to find out.

"Natasha, you can trust me not to tell anyone about what's happened to you...in both cases."
He continued in slightly quieter tones, sitting on a nearby ottoman, "I'm glad you already know about your abilities. The potential risk of scaring you when I revealed that was killing me."

"The way I knew in the first place is simple; you're different than everyone else, and I can sense it...it's quite poetic actually...", he finishes, trailing off as he searches her dark eyes for some hint of deeper understanding, brow slightly furrowed, his hand unconsciously sliding to the end of his knee in her direction.

He looked away, resting his head in his hands as he continued to speak, his voice slightly husky with emotion,"I woke up this afternoon...and all I can recall are vague impressions of seeing an explosion last night and..." his eyes widen as another suddenly resurfaces,"Falling off of the roof from two stories up..."he says, mostly to himself.

He shakes his head, obviously trying to make sense of it all,"I know I'm probably not making much sense, but since then, besides feeling generally healthier all around, and, I guess more in touch with myself and the wisdom I've gained in my life time, I haven't noticed much. But, when I got back to my apartment, I was able to do everything without any lights on. Then I actually started seeing it all, like the spirits themselves were giving me sight."

He regarded her with a look of mingled emotions, as distrust, amazement, confusion and hope warred for dominance of his countenance.
"I know I'm taking a huge risk telling you all this, but I think you're someone that I can trust. I know if we're going to get through this, we're going to have to trust somone, so why not each other?"

Regaining control of his expression, he continued steadily,"Typically, I'm not one to be optimistic, especially about human interaction, but I don't believe anything happens by accident. I think we're here, tonight, in this situation together, for a reason, and I think it could work out...I think, if we gave it half a chance, even we could work out...", he says, an uncharacteristic shy smile appearing on his face that disappears almost as fast as it appears. He smoothly changes the subject after only a moments pause.

"So what abilities of yours have you discovered? You see, I can sense your power, but not their exact nature...hopefully nothing too flashy, as our anonymity hinges on our ability to blend in. Something I'm sure you're well aware."
He cocked his head curiously then, half smiling as he sayed "A little off topic, but you don't happen to speak any languages other than English do you?"

[BloodyAngel]

Tasha

Tasha will relax somewhat, at least outwardly... looking to Draven and sliding her hands down, folded, onto her knees.

I took spanish for two years and all I remember how to say is "El madre es enfuego."... and I'm probably saying it wrong, at that.

She will smile softly, her thoughts running a mile a minute.

It would be so easy to just... look. See if he's sincere. But... if he knew somehow. He could be dangerous. Or I could just ruin a good thing...

She hadn't been in an even vaguely serious relationship since junior year of high school... And that ended horribly. She smiled and tried not to look nervous.

I'm not sure if you're trying to be sincere, or trying to get into my pants... But you're doing a better job than most who've tried.

Tasha smirked. She felt less nervous slightly. The flirting and jokes made her feel like things were just a bit more normal. Like she out with any other guy. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and resigned herself to give Draven a chance.

I... don't know about this. I have enough trouble with normal relationships. This is something I don't even know how to PRETEND to do right. She will say, pulling back her hair from her face with slender fingers, to look at Draven without the obstruction. But... This can't be a coincidence... right?

She'll put a hand on his lightly, and move a bit, to make room on the seat next to her.

I suppose we can... give it a try.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

As Tasha's hand began to near Draven's, a bizarre reaction occured, as his skin appearted to writhe, starting at his shoulder then converging upon the point of immenent contact, in a way that could only be described as...hungry.
(something like Rasputin's under the skin tentacles effect in Hellboy).

With a look of horror, he attepts to yank his hand away from her touch.

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Reflex Save: (1d20+6)[20]

My OOC feelings on this little "situation":

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At this point I'm really regretting taking this comlication.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

With a speed that suprised even him, he yanks his hand from beneath Tasha's gentle caress, clutching and staring at his hand for a moment, breathing rapidly what the hell was that?.

Taking a shuddering breath which he manages to exhale calmly, steadying himself, he says very quietly "I don't know what that was...I...I'm sorry, please...don't...he moves to his coat, pulling his gloves from inside his jacket and quickly putting them on.

"Please help me Natasha. You might be the only one that can". He looks at her with pleading eyes.

A look of deep sorrow crept upon his face then, and he dropped his gaze, saying distantly "I don't know any Spanish...I'm...sorry this couldn't be more "normal" for you...if you want to go I'll understand."

[BloodyAngel]

Tasha

OOC: (HA! In your face "Marie". There's a reason no one ever takes the "always active" power flaw. A parting toast to your poor, departed love life. )

What happened? Was that me or you? Tasha will say... pulling just as quickly away. I don't think I can do that... It's... never happened before.

She will slip back into her chair a bit... as if she could disappear into it.

It's ok. It's alright. Calm down. You didn't hurt me or anything... It's alright. She will try to assure him... without touching him, of course.

I don't know what that was... And... I really don't know if I can help you with it but... I can... try. Has that happened before? Have you touched anyone else since the blast?

[chrono]

First of all, sorry for intruding in your game.

However, I'd like to remind you that there are IC and OOC sub-forums for a reason. This thread is in the recruiting section of the GiantITP forums and each time somebody posts here this thread bumps a perfectly legit recruiting thread down and eventually out of sight on page 2.

So please have your IC/OOC threads in the appropriate sections to avoid having people to "wander in" or to mess with GMs trying to find players and vice versa.

[BloodyAngel]

That's two complaints. I guess we should move this thing. Sorry for the mistake in placement. Can you drag it over to the IC threads, or do I have to? (And if I do... please explain how.)

[The_Snark]

If you PM one of the mods, they can move threads, I think. Baron's the one for this forum, so I'd ask him.

This message will self-destruct when no longer needed.

[Wiz]

Whatever you do, don't move the main ooc thread, because it still IS a recruiting thread with every right to be here.

[BloodyAngel]

I can't seem to get through to the mod. Maybe I'm doing something wrong? Can someone else give it a shot and see if they have any luck? Maybe it's just me.