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Considering that the Galvan setting encompasses a number of different cities, how should we designate location? |
Just let the roleplayers themselves mention where they are in post. People should be able to figure it out. |
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19% |
[ 4 ] |
Have everyone put their location in brackets at the top of each post, like this: [TTHQ] |
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76% |
[ 16 ] |
Have people color the text in their posts according to their location--for example, everyone in the TTHQ would post in purple. |
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4% |
[ 1 ] |
I have another idea that I'm going to share with one of the mods. |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
I'm a poll whore. |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
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Total Votes : 21 |
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Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2007 9:02 pm
(You’re really making me work harder than I expected. But thanks, I think I came out for the better end of it.) Gaia Name: Ariene Whippwillow
Name: Jiana Karen Dorvil (Ji for short)
Age: 19
Alignment: Team Tomorrow. (Being iffy is too hard to explain, then.)
Special Abilities: Photographic memory, ability to retain and process (understand, yes.) specific information (such as details of an attack plan or information in a book. She ‘throws away’ any information that she doesn't need, like details on a hand carved chair or headboard. She doesn’t actually throw them away, she puts it in the back of her head, and usually she can’t call up the information when and if she needs it.), sharp, technical mind, computer savvy. A headache gradually grows into a migraine at the end of the day, starting usually after breakfast, in her first hour of work. Since she is always working, she's always had a headache, and she doesn't know what would happen if she didn't work a day. (Does that make any sense, at all?) Some days are worse than others, depending on the stress and what’s going on. Every once in a while, usually at the end of a week or month, she looses a memory. It can be an old memory, like with her family, or a new one, like where she was going. A normal person’s brain is about 10%, hers is 50-60%. She has come by information that she can’t fully process. Human emotions. They are way too complicated for her and keep changing. The one she can never truly understand is love. Love for family she does comprehend, but love for another human being she can’t even begin to imagine, since she has never experienced it before. She does have emotions, but she doesn’t understand them or how they work. Sometimes she has trouble drawing the things she invents, since she isn’t much of an artist.
Codename: Tech (Or Techie)
Appearance: Jiana has short, dark brown almost black hair with a few white hairs here and there, a downside to her power. She has tanned skin, coming from her Cherokee heritage, she has no other traits that she is Native American. She has dark green eyes set deep, sometimes giving her a tired look. She wears white tank tops with a gray zip up jacket and blue jeans. She's about 5' 4" tall. Jiana doesn't exercise much because she is mostly at a desk, so she’s got a little pudge around the middle. She can, however, run pretty fast, even though she never does unless the situation calls for it. Her costume is black form-fitting pants with no pockets and a dark blue long sleeve shirt with the logo on the back. She wears a belt with the logo on the buckle, too.
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Personality: Ji is not very talkative. If she has to talk she will, but there's no idle chatter involved and she doesn't ramble when she knows no one is listening, or doesn’t want to listen. What gets her talking is when someone asks her about a new invention, or asks her for a suggestion (giving suggestions too.). She's open to all ideas and can pinpoint flaws in any course of action, even if they are minor. She doesn’t know how to flirt, so when faced with that situation she blushes and stammers, feeling a little awkward and stupid. Her temper hardly ever flares, but when people tell her she’s stupid or idiotic for no reason, it goes up like a flame and she gets red and starts stammering, much the same with the flirting, only she get revenge (“” She plots it, but never carries out the plans.) on that person who called her stupid. Sometimes when she’s mad, she’s somewhat of an evil genius, designing bombs and guns. (She would never do anything to hurt someone out of spite, but putting out an idea that hints it makes her feel better, and it usually wears away the anger...and the headache.) When she gets angry, her headache gets worse and worse, sometimes so bad that she passes out, or gets violently ill. Her anger headache combines with her power headache, amplifying and growing larger.
History: She was born in Houston, TX, but that didn’t last long. When she was three years old her parents, along with her three older brothers, packed up and moved to Washington DC because her father, who worked for an oil company, got transferred. Her parents were like any other, fighting mostly. They never split up though. Her family did lots of things together, picnics in the park, things like that. She was slightly spoiled by her parents, since she was the youngest of four children. Her brothers made sure she wasn’t too spoiled, by teasing her and keeping the knocking boys away. Okay, maybe not the knocking boys so much, since she threatened them that she would blast them into oblivion if they so much touched any of them. There was only one suitor, and it didn’t last long because her parents discovered that she was a nova. No one ever knew Jiana was a genius until she was discovered as a nova at 14, she was just starting freshman year in high school. She would build advanced technology with scrap metal or odd things lying around the house and then take it apart, so no one would know she was smart. She did, however, keep blue prints and sketches of her inventions, so she could rebuild them when she got older. If she remembered. When they did find out that she was a nova, her parents sent her to the school and she hasn't heard from them or her brothers and friends since. Ji hopes, though, that they will get in touch with her one day. She sends things on their birthdays, Fathers day, Mothers day, all the holidays, but she never got a call and at first the presents got sent back. When they stopped sending them back, she thought that they had started accepting the presents. Sometimes when she’s angry at something, she turns her thoughts to them, and gets into a slight rage. The rage usually doesn’t last long, because the headache gets worse all of the sudden, and she faints almost dead away. None of her brothers knew she was a nova at all. She supposed her parents told them that she got into trouble and sent her off to boarding school. She believes that they make up excuses as to why she can’t come home for holidays. She joined Team Tomorrow because she thought the rouge novas were going a bit too far, and Admon saying that they were supreme. She doesn’t think anything is supreme over another living being. Ji thinks we are just the same as a horse, or a dog. She doesn’t have many thought about the current events, just an exasperated sigh here and there, and then work on a new doohickey to fight them off, or contain them.
Sample Roleplay: Jiana hummed a little tune. She was pretty sure she was alone, or she wouldn’t have started that pointless jingle. As she hummed, she figured that it couldn’t be classified as a melody, since it had no rhythm, or any repetitive notes. She was in her room, which was somewhat small and comfortable- just the way she liked it. When you walked into the room, you saw a twin bed in the right corner and a desk the opposite of it. Two symmetrical windows were on the back wall, facing out onto the back gardens. She was glad they were there too. She would have something to gaze at while she was trying to fall asleep. There were white curtains on the windows, they were always open. On the desk was her laptop, which was white and orange, not black, as people would expect of her. It wasn’t as high tech as she’d like it to be, but it served the purposes she had for it. In the right hand corner was a cup of pencils that were sharpened perfectly, she never used them. On another wall was a dresser with a mirror. To the right of the dresser was a small closet she used for her summer clothes, her winter ones were in the dresser. She had no posters or personal paintings on the wall; she had no use of them. Jiana’s eye twitched a little. She had been up for almost 21 hours, working on a new project. She had no idea what it was though. It could be used for a number of things; she just had to decide was it was. She thought of what it could look like right before she fell asleep the previous night. The next morning she started to type out all the things that this curious little gadget could be used for. The picture of the device was clear in her head, and she had drawn in on a piece of scrap paper, that was now taped to the space of wall above her desk. Hundreds (and she was exaggerating) of scrap papers littered that wall, some from years ago, some from a few days ago, she could never tell. Her head felt like a chainsaw was being buried in it. She blinked a few times, then realized she hadn’t been out of her room for the whole time she’d been awake that day. This meant she missed work, and hadn’t eaten. As if on cue, she stomach growled loudly. How long had it been growling like that? It didn’t matter. Jiana stood from the stiff backed chair and stretched like a cat waking from a little bask in the sun. She awkwardly walked to the door, pausing every few seconds to stretch out an unused muscle. I’ll just pop into the kitchen for a little snack, then come straight back. She just hoped she could do it with out waking anyone. It was close to midnight, you realize. Considering the odds, she doubted it. In the dark she was clumsy, knocking over things and making a ton of noise. Something she needed to fix, and soon.
(I think I answered the questions. Boy you people really break down a person.)
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Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2007 7:15 am
Gaia Name: Pandali Name: Arielle Leonora Mancini (Ari for short) Age: 22 Alignment: Team Tomorrow Special Abilities: Transfer Healing. Ari is able to heal anyone with any ailment, but not without serious consequences to herself. When she heals someone, it is more of a transfer of ailments than an actual cure – whatever illness they had she then gains herself. Specifics: - Ari heals 75% faster than a normal human when she gets injuries directly (not pulled from someone else). - When she transfers injuries or illnesses to herself, it takes her 25% of the time they had the wound plus the time they would have had the wound to heal. - Thus, she cannot heal permanent injuries without permanent harm to herself – ie. Blindness, missing limbs, death, etc. She is not 100% sure on this, considering she hasn’t tried, but doesn’t want to risk permanently harming herself. The closest she ever got to this was when, still learning what her powers could do, she transferred lung cancer to herself. Luckily, one of the other novas had just discovered the cure. - To transfer physical wounds, she puts her hands over the general area of the wound – this can be difficult when the wound is internal because she has to figure out the area it is in. As far as she knows, the only mental illnesses she can transfer are headaches, which she transfers by putting her hands on the person’s head. - The only way she can heal herself, other than by waiting for it to naturally go away, is to transfer it onto someone else. - Healing exerts a lot of energy. The larger the wound and the longer someone has had it, the more energy it takes to transfer it. When she does over exert herself – which can happen when she tries to heal too many people at once or heal something large like a gash running all the way along someone’s side – she faints and her heart beat slows. One time she nearly went into a coma. This makes her very cautious about whom she heals and why, because fainting and having a large gash in one’s side can be very dangerous. Codename: Remedy Costume: Arielle has always loved Renaissance culture, and her costume reflects that, in a more modern way. She wears loose brown cotton pants underneath a knee-length green tunic. The tunic is a v-neck and embroidered with small, gold leaves along the collar, hem, and three-quarter sleeves. She wears a brown sash around her waist. The loose clothing also provides easy access to any external wounds she receives in her work. The TT symbol is stitched in gold on the shoulder of the tunic. She also carries with her a modern-looking brown brief case, embroidered with the TT symbol in gold and green. Despite being leather, the brief case is fire proof and water proof and has a large strap that she can sling over her head. Within it are several modern medical necessities – band-aids, gauze, rubbing alcohol, first aid kit, etc. Not wanting to have hordes of fanatic people pounding her doors for “miracle healings”, she also wears a half mask. The mask is gold with two, large green cloth leaves coming off one side. ((I know you all don’t like pictures, but I felt the need to put up a link to a picture of this mask)) Her hair is usually in a braid wrapped around her head, to keep it out of the way. Appearance: Ari is 5’5, thin, and not “well endowed” – she weighs about 135 lbs. She has very pale skin, which is prone to sunburns, but not to freckles. Her straight, light brown hair is usually in a braid hanging down to her waist. Her eyes are brown and her nose is rather sharp, but not so much that it is hooked or looks snobbish. Her face is elongated rather than round. Typically, she wears jeans and a t-shirt or the occasional skirt. Her favorite color to wear is green, but she’ll wear almost any color accept for orange – it doesn’t look so good against her skin. Shoes depend on the occasion, but she prefers to wear sandals when she can. She has the habit of carrying a medical emergency kit with her everywhere. Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Personality: Because she so often has to deal with the pains of others, Ari has learned to hide her emotions most of the time – it’s hard enough dealing with pain without bawling and crying. It is also easier for those she’s helping if she is calm and collected. She hasn’t become used to pain – she doesn’t think anyone could – but she is able to handle pain, even in stressful situations. She is calm and practical in most situations, but when she gets truly angry – which is not very often – she really loses her temper. Her words become sharp and cruel towards whoever she is angry at and she tends not to act very reasonably. Often she ends up aiming her anger at everyone around her, not just the person she is angry at. It tends to be more verbal than physical, though. Mostly what ticks her off is when people call her a liar, treat her as a second rate person who isn’t worth their time, or refuse assistance because of their own stupid pride – just because you’re strong or smart doesn’t mean you don’t ever need any help. Romantically, she is very picky about who she dates. Growing up with a romantic novelist for a mother, she’s used to reading about all of the perfect guys and expects to find them out in the real world, too. History: Ari was born in St. Paul, Minnesota to a romantic novelist and a Renaissance historian and professor – thus the rather elegant name. Needless to say, most of their family vacations were spent in museums or the occasional splurge on a European castle. How they fell in love she’ll never understand – every time her mother finishes a medieval romance, her father complains about how historically inaccurate it is. She led a pretty normal life – going to school, hanging out with friends, going to parties, etc – until she was fourteen. She and her friend Karen were horsing around on a jungle gym in the park near her home – even though they both knew they were a bit too old to be doing so. All of a sudden, Karen fell and hit her head. There was blood all over the playground, no one else was around, and neither of them had thought to bring a cell phone with them. Arielle hurried down the jungle gym and ran over to her friend. Crying, she tore up the bottom of her shirt and pressed it to her friend’s head and just kept willing Karen to get better. Suddenly, there was a searing pain in Ari’s head - then it was gone. Ari opened her eyes and looked down at her suddenly woundless friend. Ari was shaking as Karen opened her eyes, sat up, and looked at her, rubbing her head like she had a headache. “What happened?” she asked. “You-you fell.” Ari replied, shakily. “Wow. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt myself – c’mon, let’s head back to your house...” Karen paused; she looked around and saw all of the blood around her. Eyes wide, she turned back to Ari and whispered, “What happened?” Later that evening, Ari and Karen told her parents what had happened, not sure if they would believe it. Amazingly, they did and said that they had been hearing about different strange occurrences around the world from people known as novas. A couple of months later, she was off to Galvan. It soon became apparent that she couldn’t simply heal people, and that the searing pain she had felt that day was the short time she had held Karen’s wound herself. She learned to be wary of when she used her skills and why. She graduated from Galvan feeling much more comfortable with what she did. Knowing that there would be many people she would want to help but would be unable to without seriously harming herself, she went to nursing school to learn more practical ways of dealing with injuries so she could leave her gift as a last resort. She graduated just before the stoning. The stoning made her angry, but Admon’s speech made her angrier still. He talked about not repeating history, but it seemed to her that was just what he was doing. To her, he was the next Hitler – he felt repressed, so he encourages all those repressed with him to destroy those who were repressing them. She knew it was probably going to end badly for Admon just as it did for Hitler, especially when he said that all novas should be leaders and Kings and stuff like that. That was completely illogical – not every nova could be a leader and someone would end up crushed under his regime, not only humans, but novas as well. He just wanted power for himself and was luring people to work under his dictatorship. His speech alone would cause chaos all over the world. Not long after Admon made his announcement to the world, she was recruited for Team Tomorrow. She plays more of a support role than anything else on the team, but is often found out on the field – if not actually using her powers, then at least helping people get to safety or to a good hospital. Sample Roleplay: Arielle walked into the living room of her apartment, grabbed the remote, and plopped down on the couch. Turning to the news, what she saw shocked her – a nova, with tortured human prisoners hanging behind him. There had been so much turmoil going on lately, but she had never expected a reaction like this. Listening to his ravings, she glared at the TV and tapped her foot impatiently. He talked about not making the same mistakes and that every nova should be the king of the world and junk like that. What he sounded like to her was another Hitler – being pushed down, he was asking the people to destroy the ones pushing against him. This would just make things worse, and besides, not every nova would end up on top, no matter what he said. There was always a bottom of the food chain and a bunch of novas, not to mention humans, would be destroyed by this. Not able to listen to it anymore, she turned off the TV and threw the remote on the ground, practically breaking it. Pacing and clenching her fists, the phone rang. Picking it up, she practically spit, “Hello?!” It was her parents, wanting to see if she’d seen the news yet. Favorite food: cucumbers ((Oh, and it will be highly unlikely that I will be able to get to a computer between June 22 and July 2, just so you know.))
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Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2007 9:06 am
Okay, I know that the "Sample Roleplay" field is blank, but I want to make any changes needed before writing my sample (which will probably be my first post).Okay, I've got everything here. Quote: Gaia Name: Yoder Name: Samuel Joshua Thanati Age: 24 Alignment: Devia Special Abilities:>He bears the power to manipulate his bone, osteomancy. His power is only controlled from a live connection to his body, so all bone alterations must stay within or connect to his body. His powers of manipulation are only present in his arms and hands. His most basic power is compressing his bone, making is denser. This makes his bones less likely to fracture, but puts him at more risk for joint dislocation. While dense, any physical assaults will hurt more. The problem is that while the target is hurt more, so is the tissue between Sam’s bones and his target. >The aspect of his abilities he most often utilizes is bone extension. He can extend any bone in his arms or hands to twice its length. In order for the bone to do so, it must rip through his flesh. While this causes extreme pain, he has the supplemental power of hypercoagulation (severing his brachial, femoral, carotid, jugular, aorta, or vena cavas will result in him dying just like anyone else, but any other arteries and veins damaged will clot properly). It's basically the opposite of hemophilia in that injuries he receives bleed for a very short time (tissue repair is not hastened, only blood clotting). When his bone is extended, it must also be made denser to prevent it from cracking when attacking. Extended bone puts double the strain on his joints, which has already given him the beginning stages of acute degenerative arthritis (such that the joints in his arms and hands ache for several hours after his power have been used). He will usually extend his ulna and radius (forearm) forward, creating a tonfa-like weapon. The most common shape he uses when extending these bones resembles the blade of a sword and the point of a spear (double-edged with a pointed tip). Thus, he can slash and stab an enemy effectively. For very close-range combat, he may instead extend all the bones in his hand forward, creating multiple-layered claws. When his bone is retracted, he becomes extremely susceptible to infection and must be treated by a medical specialist (the wounds appear like deep slits). Because of this, he will leave his bone extended for a long time (his extended bone sealing/protecting the wound). >While making bone dense his hearing is mildly impaired (can‘t hear a normal conversation), while extending his bone his hearing is moderately impaired (can‘t hear a loud/animated/intense discussion), and while making bone dense while extended his hearing is severely impaired (can only hear sounds of 100 decibels or higher). Additionally, the longer his powers are being actively used, the more of a bloodlust he exhibits (almost to the point of insanity). Also, his powers cause him to tire very easily (keeping bone extended doesn‘t require constant use of powers, but keeping bone dense does). Finally, any use of his powers makes his pupils become white. Codename: Sanguine Nova Costume: He wears a solid black outfit, consisting of an untucked short-sleeved black button-down shirt, loose-fitting black cargo khakis (not sagging, just more leg room), and thickly-treaded black sneakers. On the front of his t-shirt, an angular letter “S” is scrawled in bright red. Various other details of his suit include a gray leather belt and a snug gray fedora with a black hatband. The final piece of his suit is a spacious maroon cape that is large enough to wrap around his entire body. Regular Clothing: Due to his job in the field of Business Administration, he is most often found in a neat suit with an expensive blazer jacket. In leisure, he prefers jeans (shorts are fine if the weather requires) always accompanied by a long-sleeved polo shirt that’s about one size too big for him. He uses this to attempt to hide the scars on his arms and hands from the public. If he is ever to be in close or direct contact with others, he will don gloves (white formal gloves if in a business situation and black driving gloves if in a relaxed setting). Physical Appearance: Having an olive complexion, Sam comes from a Mediterranean family. His black hair is kept neat and well-trimmed, and his face is clean-shaven. His irises are a basic brown. His jaw is well-defined, as are his cheek bones. His metabolism keeps him very slim, though he is physically fit as well. At a height of 5'8", Sam weighs around 160 pounds. Sexual Orientation: Straight Personality: He’s of the solemn sort, always logical and calculating the odds of any venture, whether in business or everyday life. He’s usually distrusting of the average acquaintance, which is the nature of the competitive world known as business. His sense of humor is somewhat dark. Always on guard, Sam knows well the changes to his disposition that will occur if the use of his powers is prolonged too much. History: My favorite food is candy! xp >Sam grew up in a small town in upper New York, his parents having emigrated to America before his birth. His family was in the higher end of the middle class, his father works as a successful restaurant owner, having 3 thriving locations in the region. His mother is a homemaker and stay-at-home mother who helped her husband keep track of business finances. Through involving themselves in community projects and affairs, the Thanati’s have become a respected family. In this entrepreneur-friendly environment, Sam grew to love the tactics of running a good business. >Sam erupted at 14 in a macabre display in his room. His humerus, ulna, radius, carpals, metacarpals, and phalanges all extended spontaneously in both directions. The pain caused him to pass out only a few moments later. Waking up at the local hospital, his parents were consulting with a doctor outside his room door. His bone had retracted (and was retracted when his mother found him passed out and spattered with blood several minutes after he fainted). All that was left were large slits on either side of each of his joints. The pain was still immense, but soon a codine in his IV kicked in. Outside his room, the doctor and his parents were puzzled. Those kind of wounds is such specific points were such an anomaly. Naturally his parents were questioned but found innocent. The doctor was also puzzled by how little blood he had lost; Sam didn’t even need a transfusion. He was released a few days later. His parents were told to watch for infection, but none developed thanks to the skill of the surgeon in stitching the wounds properly. For a few years afterward, the same uncontrollable events would take place often and without warning. Each time, Sam’s pain resilience grew until the first time he didn’t faint when it happened. Since he was conscious, he could observe exactly what happens during these spontaneous events. From then on, he worked to attempt to control his powers. >By the time he finished high school, he had an adequate control of his powers. While studying for a BA degree in college, he would still have involuntary bone extension, but he could usually retract it right away (and it involved less bones than his first episodes). Towards the end of his 4-year university, Sam discovered that he could adjust the density of his bone by using his powers to compressing it. After college he scored a fine job at a well-known business organization near NYC (and by then he had a firm grasp on the voluntary use of his powers). At 21 (the age when he graduated from college and got his first real vocational job), he heard about novas and Galvan for the first time. Galvan had been around for 3 years, training novas to use their powers effectively. Before this time, Galvan wasn’t well known and novas weren’t a widely discussed topic. Intrigued, Samuel took all of his vacation time for the year and traveled to the original Galvan school, curious about their company and goals. On the way, he contacted them and set up an appointment with a representative of the Galvan Corporation. Galvan didn’t offer training to post-high school individuals unless they were willing to live there and devote themselves to the development of their powers (at the same time, working for the Galvan Corporation in helping run the school). As much as Samuel wanted to, he couldn’t give up the great job he had back at home near NYC (which was rich with advancement opportunities). >Since, he has grown in the business to a position of relative authority. For the past year he has been working for Devia, a new company that deals with novas. While it was less focused n developing nova powers, and more driven towards selling nova services and abilities, Sam couldn’t resist the amounts of money they were paying novas. Most of the work he does for Devia is done during the weekend and on any nights. Because of his position, he can work from home freely. He uses to his advantage, allowing him to retain a normal job and express his nova status simultaneously. Sample Roleplay:Quote: Samuel, dressed in his usual career attire, was pacing behind his desk while holding a cellular phone up to his ear. The conversation was quiet and was mostly one-sided (as Sam spoke infrequently during the call). The call came to an end and Sam sighed and repeated the basics of his instructions back to the Devia official, "Assignment: A-086. Target: #1377. Location: Paradise. Deadline: 1011~011110_bw, 0101 01111. Status: Accepted." He ended the call, closed his phone and slid it into his pocket. Sitting down in his designer office chair, he logged on to his computer. Nonchalantly performing routine job procedures, his mind was elsewhere. "Great, one of the few days that I have to come in to the office, and I get a call from Devia. I don't want to miss this board meeting, because it could put me in good standing with the chairs of the company. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to attend it and complete my nova task. I guess I'll just have to skip out on the meeting," Samuel thought amidst numerous windows flashing past his habitual stare at the screen. Finishing his basic duties for the day, he grabbed his briefcase. Clocking out according to protocol, he slipped into the parking garage next to his company's building. "Heh, I just made it out of there. The meeting will be starting in just a few minutes." He jumped in his car and threw his briefcase in the back. Starting the engine, he pulled out and drove towards the airport. "Okay, so I've got to be in Los Angeles at 10 if I can hope to meet the 11:30 deadline. I've got a ticket waiting for me and the target is guaranteed to be alone. This should be a fairly routine cloak-and-dagger assassination. I'll be in and out before he can shout. Normally that'd be the case, but this is an A-086, not an A-085. I've got to get some information from him before the assassination and cover it up afterward. Ugh, they've been giving me quite a few of these recently." Sam drove into the airport lot and grabbed his suitcase, turning off the car. Once inside, he went to the ticket counter and accosted an employee behind the desk, "Excuse me, is this where we pick up previously purchased or held tickets?" The lady chipperly replied, "Why, yes! If you have a ticket here, all you need do is state the flight number and the password you created online." "Okay," Sam began, "I'm on Flight 492 leaving from Terminal C." The lady typed it in efficiently and, seeing that the customer had stopped speaking, asked for the remaining information, "May I please have your password?" Sam replied, "Sure, my password is: ''New." The lady behind the counter entered it into the computer and gave Samuel his ticket, wishing him a happy flgith as he went towards Terminal C. Samuel came to the security metal detectors and put his briefcase of the conveyor. He passed through the agnetic field without incident just as his briefcase passed through the x-ray machine without poblems. Grabbing it, he came to his gate. Sam arrived and stood in line (as Flight 492 was already boarding passengers).
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Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2007 8:18 pm
Try one. No major changes were made from the last Galvan 2 attempt (just rearranging for the new form), so we'll see how this goes. Gaia Name: Panpear Name: Sandy Dunstan Age: 21 Alignment: Team Tomorrow Special Abilities: Sandy can change her density. Her standard density is much lighter than air; if she does not think about it, she will just float off into space. (Thus when sleeping at night, she tends to strap down into bed, just in case). She can also make herself extremely heavy. Her ability to change her density also allows her to withstand extreme amounts of pressure (or lack of pressure, as the case may be). Normally her power only affects her body, but Sandy can also enlarge the range of her density changes to affect other people and/or her surroundings. She can easily maintain a radius of five feet or so for an extended period of time when making things lighter, and the same distance for about 10 minutes when making things really heavy. Her power naturally extends in a sphere, but she can make it elliptical. Sandy can also control what inside her power radius is affected, though the more she has to differentiate, the harder it is to maintain. Notes: Touching her will not affect your density. Becoming heavy is more difficult than being lighter, but while heavy, Sandy becomes harder to hurt and stronger, though her movement is slowed drastically. Although her density changes, everything else appears the same, thus she cannot float through solid things. Codename: G-force (because most people assumed she controlled gravity anyway, and ‘Dense’ wasn’t an option as a name). (( IF YOU COME UP WITH ANY OTHER IDEAS, PLEASE TELL ME! )) Costume: Sandy made her costume herself, and was very proud of it. Created from very durable materials, in consisted of a zippered dark blue jacket, with the Team Tomorrow T’s on the front left, in yellow. It has stretchable light blue 'wings' between the arms and body, to help her catch wind so she can ‘fly’ with it, as wind travel is faster than her peculiar walk. The wings can be detached from the body of the jacket via zippers, but it is quite hard to unzip, so she usually doesn’t remove them. Her pants fade from dark blue to light blue, and her shoes are dark blue. While in her costume, Sandy lets her hair down, where it whips around because of her light density. While it does look very impressive, she usually puts it into a segmented ponytail if she knows she will be doing a lot of work or fighting. Appearance: Sandy always likes to describe herself as average, an interesting term for a Nova to use. She topped off at five feet, five inches; an average height. Her hair is a mousy brown, usually worn in a large, tight bun; an average color with and average style. Her body shape, she might admit, is slightly below the average American’s; but then again, she’s from Canada, so it too is average. Not to big, not too small, though hardly anyone can tell from the looser fitting clothing she wears. Yes, loose shirts, usually of the plain color variety, are what she wears. And skirts. Lots and lots of skirts. Sandy loves skirts. She has made many over the years, and always buys more when she can. It’s not surprising to find her wearing multiple layers of skirts, especially in the winter. But she usually wears some sort of bloomers or shorts underneath her ‘hippie skirts’ (as one person referred to them as), just in case she floats over someone’s head. Sandy cannot deny that her movement style has become anything but average. She had developed, over the years, a gliding gate, where the momentum for movement came from a push off the ground. She would then glide quite a few feet before needing to give herself another horizontal push. It was an effective way to cover ground quickly. She tends not to move like that in the presence of humans though; at least while she was out of costume. ((Some drawn pictures for reference: Sandy wearing normal attire. Two full size images of Sandy in normal clothes. When she doesn’t expand her powers, only her hair is wispy and affected. When she does, her clothes do get affected. Sandy in her Team Tomorrow outfit. Full color image of Team Tomorrow outfit. ))Sexual Orientation: Straight. Personality: Sandy is friendly, but some might call her a bit slow. Not academic-wise, of course. It’s just that she has a hard time picking up on seemingly obvious social... nuances. Mainly in the area of relationships, though this can also extend to ill-timed or silly comments on her part. It was something she never grew out of while at Galvan, though she has gotten better. However, she isn’t all smiles like she used to be. She has also become more religious over the years, and is comfortable discussing any and all faith related matters with people, if they ask first. History: Native of Canada, Sandy lived in the countryside near Toronto, living a happy, normal life. It was during the big dance at her local high school (attendance being 89 students) that she erupted. Dancing with Tony Schlep, the closest guy to a highschool sweetheart she could get, Sandy closed her eyes as the slow dance started. Awkwardly shuffling around the gym, they got closer and closer, until suddenly people started screaming. Opening her eyes, Sandy saw that the two of them were floating off the ground by at least two feet. Panicking, Sandy let go of Tony (who fell to the ground, gibbering), and she continued to float to the ceiling. Luckily, she had enough sense in her to keep her legs together, though her arms were flailing as she tried to get to the ground. She spent the rest of the night on the gym ceiling until the fire department came to get her down. The next few weeks she stayed at home, with a rope tied to the floor as she determined how to stay on the ground. While the gym incident was embarrassing, she didn't let it faze her... much. Needless to say, an invitation to a Nova school was most welcome. Her years at Galvan started off fun, and mostly peaceful. There were a few bumps along the way in the first semester, but then everything smoothed down into routine. She and her group worked well together; she got to know everyone on campus fairly well, even though she did spend more time with people her own age. It was a wonderful time, as the classes were challenging, and fun. Her won school was responsible for curing several life threatening diseases. Sandy even helped some of the older researchers with them, as her scientific studies focused on biology and physics. She also focused heavily on English and Philosophy, which she used as a spring board for her own study in Religion. But those golden years were short lived when the video of the young nova being killed was aired. Sandy has heard about such happenings before in her Political Science classes, but had not taken them so seriously until that day. She was shocked. She knew they all were. She remembered so clearly the day they were all sitting the lounge, when that footage appeared on the screen. She even remembered seeing Admon, through her tear clouded eyes, quickly walk out of the room. She thought he had only gone to his room to express his anger in private. How wrong she was. Many times she would mentally berate herself for not knowing, not realizing, for not doing something. Oh, they had looked for him in the woods when they realized he was gone; it was not until the unfortunate incident that they realized just how angry he had become. The events that followed, the horrific retaliations between Novas and Humans, left Sandy sad, and confused. She tried not to dwell on such things too often, because she just didn’t understand why. Were not they all born from humans? Were not humans parents of novas, friends of novas? Were their differences that much greater than those of gender or race that hateful wars had to be fought, that people had to be killed? Were not they all children of God? Her personal reflections and study on such subjects often lasted through the night. Of course, there was, at times, little else to do but study, as protestors kept them on campus. It was safer there, at any rate, than to go into town. Sandy remembered all the people and friends she made there who now would cast icy glares in her direction and no longer talk to her. And every time she wondered why, and what she could do to make it stop. She was therefore delighted when the Galvan Corporation notified her and her remaining classmates (several had left, for Admon’s country, or for other reasons) about the Team Tomorrow project. In no time at all her costume was made, and she was ready to make her debut with the rest of the team. While part of Team Tomorrow, she was always helping, proving that Novas were good. She preferred humanitarian missions to fighting other Novas, but if they were harming others, she couldn’t help but to help them. Conditions improved, and the ‘war’ lulled. But Sandy still stays up some nights, wondering if what she does is the right way to bring Novas and Humans together. ((One of my favorite movies is Star Wars, btw. It's hard for me to pick one out. ^^;; )) Roleplay Sample:Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Be-WHAP!A heavy hand silenced the alarm in Sandy's room. Sleep heavy eyes glared at the digital clock, which read the ungodly hour of 5:31 AM. But alas, duty called. After a moment of staring at the ceiling, Sandy began detaching herself from her bed. Literally. Sandy tended to float if she was asleep, so she kept herself strapped to bed. Deftly she undid the clasps that kept her from bumping the ceiling and gracefully floated out of bed. Giving a push with her foot, Sandy drifted towards the door, yawning on the way. Opening the door, she drifted down the Team Tomorrow's HQ hallway, towards the bathrooms. She lived here most of the time now, as they constantly were called out to stop crimes and save the world. Plus, it was cheaper than living elsewhere, and safer. Even if you had to share the bathroom. Luckily, no one else was up at this hour yet, so no one had to see her unruly hair. And how unruly it was. It splayed around her head as if the air was water. Sandy sometimes contemplated cutting it, but her mother always liked her hair longer. Plus, it looked awesome when she was in her 'superhero' get up. "But not awesome after sleeping on it," she thought with a sigh, looking into the bathroom mirror. The tangled mess waved at her, and she smirked just a bit at it before preparing her shower. A half hour later, Sandy was clean, and fresh as a daisy. Well, maybe not a daisy- it was still too early for daisies to be up. Maybe an earlier bird. With towel wrapped around her, she gently propelled herself back to her room to change. "Ah... I should have about five more minutes until the meeting starts. Perfect!" she thought to herself, pleasantly pleased that she had planned her morning with enough time to get comfortably ready. "@#%$! I'm gonna be late!!" shouted a voice, startling Sandy out of her happy thoughts. A second later, another team member careened straight into Sandy, causing them both to tumble through the air. Only Sandy's intense training gave her the proper skill to keep her towel on during the collision. Unfortunately, she and the team member still end up in a tangled heap on the ground. "Then again... maybe it won't be plenty of time," she thought as the two detangled themselves and went their separate ways.
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Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2007 9:42 pm
Gaia Name: SenshiVulpix
Name: Kamil al-Abdulrahman
Age: 18
Alignment: Devia Corp
Special Abilities: Kamil is technically blind. But his power allows him to see with a sophisticated echolocation. His hearing is sensitive, but also resilient to high decibels. His range of hearing is also higher than a typical human's (~40000 Hz compared to 20000 Hz). The higher the frequency of sound, the clearer the image is. However, lower frequency sounds can 'see' farther (the energy doesn't dissipate as fast). In his mind, the sound is processed and he 'sees' fairly detailed black and white images. Black represents the absence of objects, while white would represent something right on his face. Varying shades of gray detail what is in between. A nice single sound gets him a clean image; he could map out details on a face 12 feet away ("You have seventeen zits on your forehead, didja know?"). But hardly ever do his ears receive a single sound, so most times he has multiple images of varying detail merged together into a single picture, happening every time he hears a sound. Add that to the fact that he generally gets a near 360 picture of his surroundings, and there is slight time delay (though keep in mind sound travels at 343 m/s), Kamil is prone to getting headaches.
Codename: The All-Seeing Eye ((I'll take suggestions though. Please. ))
Costume: His on-the-job outfit is nothing extravagant. He has a worn black leather jacket that he usually wears, unless the job requires other attire. If not in a hurry, Kamil also wears a dark green shirt underneath the jacket, along with black jeans and tennis shoes, and a bandana around his eye that has green stripes on the ends. If he is in a hurry (or doesn’t feel like wearing a ‘costume,’) he just throws the jacket over whatever he is wearing.
Appearance: Kamil is smaller, only a little over 5'6'', and very skinny as well, though physical training with Devia has given him more muscle. His hair is black, coarse, and currently a 5-inch long mess all around his head. Under the bangs in the front, he wears a simple black bandana. It covers his now cloudy eyes that tend to roll aimlessly around, and to help him 'see' better with his ears (His eyes still can detect light and dark, which throws off his mental echolocation pictures). Kamil's clothes are usually well worn and baggy. His skin color is a darker olive color. When not out on the job, carries a white cane, not only to indicate that he is technically blind, but also to make noise by tapping it so he can see.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.
Personality: He is cynical and generally not that friendly to most people. When Kamil does talk, (for often he prefers to remain silent in his own thoughts,) his sharp tongue often releases sarcastic comments that tend to get him into trouble. He dislikes picking sides, and is prone more to inaction than action.
History: Kamil was born in the governorate of Aden, which lies in the southern border of Yemen (a Middle Eastern country, south of Saudi Arabia), on the coast. However, Kamil and his family lived farther inwards, in a smaller village. He was his parents' third child, from the eventual total of six. They lived in a small four-room house, with a decent income through their business in livestock (they owned a fair amount of sheep, cattle, and a few goats and camels). The children helped out as they could while growing up.
His childhood was relatively uneventful until his was five. It was then that his eyesight started to dissipate. It was at first dismissed as an excuse to get out of work, and was told to stop making up such stories. Only after he ran into a wall while playing with Salim and Ali that his parents took him to the nearby doctors.
After a few examinations the doctor determined that Kamil had some sort of hereditary blindness, and that the boy's sight would continue to deteriorate. There was no medicine or treatment they could give him, though he wanted them to keep bringing Kamil in for check ups, so he could monitor the condition.
Needless to say, the news was devastating, for both Kamil and his family. There was a short period of time when everyone was silent when he walked in a room and gave him a wide birth, as if blindness was contagious. But after a few weeks, they got over the fact he was having trouble seeing, and life went on. Kamil tried to make the best of it, but even at the age of five, was not very optimistic. Those who gave him the most support were his siblings; they treated him as normal, though he did not realize they did little things to make his life easier. Chairs he was about to collide with were moved; objects he was groping for pushed into reach; overlooking his obvious hiding place in a game of hide and seek; the list goes on. His mother would coddle him when he got upset; would explain why all this happened to him and how it wasn't his fault at all; how God intended him to be an example to others to appreciate the gift of sight (though Kamil couldn't help but wonder why God didn't pick someone else). His father, however, distanced himself from his second son; he would be of no use on the farm, it would seem. If only his wife could bear him more sons!
And so in a six month period, Kamil lost almost all of his sight. He could tell where light was, which helped him navigate when no one was around. His hearing improved some, as well as his other senses, to make up for the lack of sight. His parents got him a metal cane, painted white, so people would know he couldn't see, and so he could make sure not to trip on things (the doctor had sold it to them, after teaching Kamil how to get around).
When he was six ("nearly seven,” he would add), his mother sent him and his older brother, Rafi, to the doctor for Kamil's final check up, as his father was busy. Rafi seemed happy to do the chore- it would keep him out of the fields, and they would be in the main part of town for the majority of the day. It would be fun. Little did they know of the tragedy that was about to befall them...
"What's that smell?" asked Kamil, holding his brother's hand. They were walking home after seeing the doctor. He had told them they didn't need to come again; Kamil's eyesight would stay as it was now for the rest of his life. Of course, they had made a pitstop at the market, where Rafi had bought them both some sweets, and some qac (for dad, but they both snuck a few pieces for later).
"What smell?" replied Rafi. "I don't smell anything."
Kamil sniffed the air again. "That smell... you know, like the one when we're cooking the old sheep that die."
"I don't smell anything. Besides, dad would've told us if he was doing that today."
"Would've told you," sulked Kamil. Their father hardly spoke to him anymore.
Rafi rolled his eyes, and ignored Kamil's comment. They walked in silence for a few minutes until Rafi stopped suddenly, staring off towards their house. Kamil kept walking, until his hand jerked out of Rafi's.
"What's the matter?" he asked, turning towards where he thought Rafi was standing.
"There's... smoke..." His brother's voice sounded distant. A moment later Kamil was carefully guided over somewhere off the road.
"Stay here," Rafi's voice commanded, but sounded rather shaky. In the distance Kamil could hear some screams, the sound of fire, a few gunshots.
"Wait-" he started to say, but Rafi had already gone.
Kamil waited. And waited. And waited some more. He eventually sat down, leaning against his cane, which he had stuck in the ground, like some sort of flagpole. He was worried. If there was smoke, there was a fire, and fire was bad. It was hard to put them out with just sand, but they couldn't use water- there wasn't enough of that. And why did Rafi sound so... chilled?
Several hours past before Rafi came back to him. The older boy collapsed next to his brother and did not speak. Tears were running down his face; Kamil could feel them.
"What happened? What is it? What happened?" he questioned, but got no answer right away. Rafi was holding him tightly and crying. Kamil started to get frightened.
It seemed like an eternity passed before Rafi spoke.
"They're dead," he whispered.
"What!?" came Kamil's equally hushed reply.
"O-our family. They're all dead." Rafi hiccupped once, trying to calm down and be strong for his brother.
"All of them?" came Kamil's horrified response.
"Y-yes. M-mom and dad and Salim and Ali..."
"Even Shadi?" Shadi was their little baby brother. How could he be dead? Kamil thought. Who could harm someone so small and innocent?
Rafi nodded, and then remembered who he was with. "Yes," he said softly.
Kamil sat in absolute silence for a long moment, in shock. Could this be true? Maybe Rafi was teasing- but that thought was banished as soon as Kamil thought it. Rafi wouldn't tease like this. And he had gone to the house, and no one came. And there was the smell of fire and... Overcome with emotion, Kamil buried himself into his brother's arms, sobbing. Rafi wrapped his arms around his brother, and the two stayed like that for many hours.
---
Dirty business, it was, the neighbors said. All were saddened by the loss of such a prominent family in the community, and only two of the children surviving, well, praise Allah for that little miracle, but... it was still dirty business. Official cause of death was by fire, though everyone knew that the 'guests' Muhammad was seeing earlier killed them and then burned their house down. That Muhammad had been getting into some pretty tricky political situations, and the strong rebel hold nearby didn't like that. He should've thought more of his family and of his business, the neighbors said.
The community was not heartless though. They paid for the funeral service, and found a temporary home for the boys. They mourned the three days that were set aside for mourning, and then the community's life went on.
The two had no living relatives in the area, and no one had the means (or so they said) to take the boys on. Instead, they were sent into the city of Aden to an orphanage.
The place was an interfaith community, where one could practice any religion they choose (though emphasis was on Sunni Islam, as was the common religion in the region). It had been founded by foreigners, missionaries from some place, but had been taken over by more local factions, though many foreign volunteers worked there. It was also a busy city place, much different from their life in the village.
"Your name?" asked the secretary, who was given the task of making the records for new arrivals. She had a slight accent.
"Rafi ibn Muhammad al-Nuhad ibn Nasser al-Abdulrahman," Rafi said smoothly. He had a protective hand on Kamil's shoulder.
The secretary gave him a blank look. "Rafi... al-Abdulrahman," she wrote out carefully, leaving out the majority of his name. "And you?" She looked at Kamil, and Rafi gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Kamil ibn Muhammad-" But he was cut off by the secretary, who merely wrote down 'Kamil al-Abdulrahman.'
She pressed them for more information before assigning them beds in the dormitory.
---
The next couple of years the two boys spent their time adjusting to their new life in the orphanage. During the morning there were classes, and in the afternoon they were to either study, or were assigned some chore to do. This would be the pattern, they were informed, until they turned 12, at which point in time they would try and find work for them to do, to bring in money, unless they did exceptionally well at their studies in the orphanage. Then they could apply to be.
For Kamil, the adjustment was hard. There were hardly any tasks he could do well, and some he couldn't do at all. He had a hard time controlling his tongue, and more than once Rafi had to step in to keep his little brother from getting the crap beat out of him (not to say that Kamil couldn't fight; he bit, scratched, kicked, elbowed, kneed, punched and/or lashed out at –anything- during a fight. Those who attacked him often came out with an equal amount of injuries). Both were still deeply affected by their family's death; during the first few months Kamil would sneak into Rafi's bed at night, where he did not break into tears on occasion and cry into his brother’s shirt. Who told you that? They were obviously lying.
But life went on, and the years rolled by. They generally kept to themselves, though Rafi made more friends than Kamil, partially because of his outgoing personality, and because Kamil couldn’t partake in games of tag, soccer, etc. The two dedicated themselves to their studies, as there was little else for them to do. Plus, Rafi noted, it kept Kamil out of trouble, and both of their minds off of their family.
Nothing extremely noteworthy happened until Kamil was nine, which was when he got his own room. It was an unprecedented act at the orphanage until then. Kamil though, was special. Mainly because he always seemed to be involved in, if not the cause of, the fights that erupted after the lights were out. There were just too many of them in a single week, and the staff were really tired of fixing Kamil’s injuries, not to mention the ones on at least ten other boys. One of the storage rooms near the dormitory was cleared out and in it they stuck a bed and a small set of drawers. The bed reached from wall to wall, and the drawers were placed next to the bed, across from the door. It looked cramped, but suited Kamil just fine. The number of fights decreased almost instantly, and the staff too was pleased.
About a year and a half later was when his brother left. Kamil was nearly eleven, and Rafi close to fifteen. Rafi had been attending one of the local schools; his studies at the orphanage had been superior, and he had elected to continue learning. And then, one day, he returned home with some glorious news- he was going to study abroad! In America!
He’d come back during breaks though. And this was only a three-year arrangement, so he wouldn’t be gone forever. The orphanage was overjoyed; Rafi would spread word of their organization while there, which meant more money. And when he came back, he would be sure to find a good job. It would be excellent. Kamil was unsure about this at first, but after some long talks with his brother, thought it would be really cool. Plus Rafi would write to him and Hakim or Armir could read the letters to him. And if Rafi had some money to spare, he could buy Kamil some presents. Perhaps some more books- Kamil had only two books in Braille, and he had them practically memorized.
And so it was not long before Rafi left for his schooling in America. True to his word, monthly letters would arrive, and every now and then Kamil would receive a package, containing some sort of literature in Braille. He even got an English-Arabic dictionary in Braille; needless to say, it was quite large. At first, Rafi would come home for breaks, but then he started to stay in America for longer periods of time with his host family. Kamil missed him when he stayed away, feeling a little hurt and betrayed. But he still coveted the books his brother sent him.
Kamil continued his education at the orphanage, and did quite well, especially in his language studies, particularly English. The schoolmaster at the orphanage had a feeling that Kamil wanted to go to America too, like his brother. But the local schools did not want to accept him as a student since it would be too much of a hassle for them. The orphanage, being tactful, did not inform Kamil this was the reason wasn’t accepted into the schools. He didn’t mind too much (or at least he didn’t let on that he minded), as he got to stay and learn at the orphanage for an extra year, as they just could not find a job for him to do. Instead, because he was older, they had him lead shopping expeditions to get groceries as a way for him to earn his keep. Mostly it was to get him out of the building, as all children needed some fresh air. It's not as if they expected him to keep an eye on the younger children who went with him. All he had to do was remember what they needed to buy and hold the money until they found what they needed. It was on one such shopping excursion that Kamil found himself, yet again, abandoned by his wards. It was a common occurrence. They would swirl and chat around him, and then direct him to a 'market stall' where they needed to buy something. Minutes later, they would be gone, and Kamil would be left standing next to a wall or post, or wherever they decided to leave him. After the first few times it had happened, Kamil got used to it and would often sit down to read until they came back. Then he would make sure they had gotten everything while they were out having fun, and then they would go home. This particular day was no different, and after a quick investigation, Kamil deduced he was standing in front of an old wooden post of some sort. He sat down, cross-legged, to wait. "So they just abandon ya, huh?" said a deep voice nearby. Startled, Kamil jerked up, and then sat up straight. "Um, yes," he said. "Saw it happen. Do they do it often?" the voice asked. It was to Kamil's left. "Yeah, but they come back." "Huh. Seems like a rotten thing to do, just to leave you out here." Kamil shrugged. There wasn't much else he could do about it, and it gave him some reading time. "Here," the voice said, and a hand touched his shoulder, "come sit with us in the shade. We'll keep an eye out for those kids." Kamil, sensing he didn't have a choice in the matter, let the hand guide him a ways over, into some shade. "Have a seat on the ground there. I am Hamal, a humble merchant. This is my wife, Umay." A female voice spoke up. "Pleased to meet you..." "Kamil." "Kamil," Umay repeated. "I asked Hamal to fetch you; we see you often enough, and those awful other children always leave you alone out in the sun..." "Uh... thanks," Kamil said, as he really didn't know what to make of the situation. And so Umay asked for more information about Kamil, such as why he went to the market with the other children, and where he was from. In turn, they supplied more information about themselves and their store. It was one of the larger enterprises on that side of town, as they imported foreign goods. Kamil also met their two children, Malik and Damali. Dinnertime came, and the wayward children still had not shown up. Umay invited Kamil to stay for dinner, as he had been such a good help by sorting an order of beads by size and shape (the other children had further sorted them by color). After dinner, Hamal telephoned the orphanage, explaining where Kamil was. They sent down one of their workers right away from him, telling Hamal that the children who left him there had been appropriately dealt with. Twenty minutes later, Kamil was picked up and taken back to the orphanage. They next day, he was summoned to the Headmistress's office. Feeling angry that he would get into trouble when the other ones left him alone in the marketplace, he steeled himself for a serious scolding. Instead, he was informed he was to work at Hamal's shop from now on. "One of the other boys who works in town will drop you off there in the morning and pick you up in the evening. Their family had generously decided to provide you lunch, so there is no need to bring one," she explained. "I suppose it was fortunate those boys left you standing there, eh?" She chuckled; Kamil forced a smile onto his face. "Now, take these to them; it's some forms they need to fill out. Bring them back with you once they are filled out. Now, I believe Fathi will take you there today..." And so Kamil began his first and only job in Yemen at Hamal's shop. He worked there doing sorting and other jobs that didn't need the use of eyes until he erupted, two years later. It began a typical morning; Kamil was sitting outside under the awning, sorting through a box of nuts. Damali was helping him. Behind the counter to their right was Malik, who was 'in charge' while his father took care of some business on the other side of town. Upstairs, Umay was taking care of her new baby, Jamila, a beautiful little girl. She was born three months ago, to the delight of her parents. Umay called something out the window of the second floor. "What was that?" yelled Damali. A louder, but still unintelligible call came from the window. "What? I can't hear you!" yelled Damali again, louder. Kamil winced. It seemed especially loud. And something else bother him too, though he wasn't sure what it was. Umay leaned out of the second story window. Jamila was in a cloth sling that tied around Umay's neck; she too dangled outside the window, but Umay kept one arm upon her child. "I said, do you happen to know where I- oh!" Just then, the sling's knot came untied. Umay's grip was not strong enough to keep her child from falling. Nor was she able to catch her; only to watch in horror as Jamila fell. The baby let out an almighty scream. Suddenly, Kamil saw everything. The cry pierced into his brain, and illuminated the streets, the buildings, the people turning in surprise at the baby's cry. He saw Umay's panicked expression, Damali's one of astonishment. He saw Malik leaning over the counter, concerned. And he saw Jamila, her face screwed up as she screamed, tumbling midair. It was like it was in slow motion; he saw how she was falling through the air, and if he just moved, just a little past the baskets full of rings, he could catch her. He darted forward, now in this world full of objects, things, people, arms outstretched, and he caught the baby, moving with her at first and then slowing her descent until she came to a stop. She kept crying; each wail filled Kamil's mind with the images of people, of the buildings, of everything. They looked so familiar, but different at the same time. He was incredibly confused. He just stood there, clutching the crying baby, trembling. Malik was the first to act. He leapt over the counter, and steered Kamil to the inside of their house, saying loudly things such as "Lucky catch, that!" and "Good instinct you have there." Then he told Damali to pack up any goods outside and come in as well. Next came Umay, running downstairs, screaming, laughing, crying. She grabbed Jamila from Kamil's arms and began to soothe her, to kiss her, praising Allah all the while.
Kamil was still shaking, in shock. He could see it all, waves of images that would appear when there was sound, and fade when there was none. They would wax and wane in intensity. It frightened him. Malik, noting Kamil's lack of movement, guided him over to a chair and made him sit down. Kamil provided no resistance, but seemed a bit jumpy. It took quite a few minutes for Damali to close up shop, and for all of them to assure themselves that Jamila was all right, physically. The baby had a few bruises it seemed, but was all right. Only after Jamila had been put to bed (which took a long time, as Umay was now reluctant to let the baby out of her sight for even one second), did they go to question how exactly Kamil managed to catch the baby. "So... how did you catch her? How did you know where she was?" asked Malik. He considered himself to be in charge while Hamal was out. "I-" He paused. His spoken word created another picture in his head, which caught him off guard. Steeling himself for more pictures, he started again. "I don't know. I- I just saw it." His audience looked confused. "What, like a premonition?" asked Damali. Kamil shook his head. "No. It's... it's more like I'm seeing. Seeing..." he faltered. He wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. Or how. "Seeing?" repeated Malik, puzzled. "Here, let me see your eyes," Umay said, and deftly took off the cloth Kamil wrapped around them. He flinched slightly as he saw her hands reach for his head. Blinking at the removal of the cloth, Kamil realized his eyes had nothing to do with his 'seeing.' In fact, he found it harder to 'see,' because the light he saw in the room masked out parts of the image. But he could still see the three of them peering closely at his face. Umay shook her head. "No, you see nothing out of them." She handed the cloth back, and Kamil quickly secured it over his eyes once again; most people did not like to look at them too long. "Then how is he seeing things?" demanded Malik to his mother, who shook her head and shrugged. "It's... it's like images show up when there is noise. When you speak. Or I speak. And I see everything around me, but there is no color..." supplied Kamil. All of them were silent for a moment. Then Umay said, "Kamil, please go to Malik's room and stay there until someone gets you." She sounded distant. Not having anything better to do, Kamil complied, carefully getting up and walking across the room to the bedroom door, where he let himself in. He could see their faces even with his back to them; the children looked nervous, Umay worried. As he shut the door, he heard Malik quietly ask, "Do you think he could be a Nova?" His mother shushed him. A Nova. A sudden feeling of dread rushed over Kamil. That would make sense; an unnatural way of seeing... he... he was a Nova. He walked over to the bed, still shaking, and sat down. He found it ironic that now he was able to see again, something he had always wished would happen, that he would be killed. He remembered a couple of years ago at the orphanage. One of the children had grown a tail. It was blue, and pointy at the end. He had also grown some long, fearsome looking horns, and some bat like wings. They had locked him away in a room when this happened; a government agent was going to come later to dispose of the unclean Nova. Everyone knew that Novas were an abomination, unclean in the sight of God, and needed to be purged from the earth. They were unnatural. It was a blessing to be rid of them. Kamil knew all this, but sometimes wondered about it. He could not see the change, and from what he had heard, nothing else really changed about the person except physical abilities. Did their personality really change so much that God could no longer love them?
He had doubted it, as did many of the other children at the orphanage. He still remembered hearing Amir (for that was the Nova’s name) screaming for someone to let him out, for someone to save him. Kamil did nothing, partly because Amir had given him a black eye a couple weeks ago, and partly out of fear of retribution. No one else made an attempt to free the boy either, because of the same fear, or out of fear of Novas themselves. Kamil didn’t actually see the tail or anything, but from what everyone else said, they looked pretty scary. At the moment, he felt like shouting for help too. It wouldn’t do him any good- in fact, it would probably get him into worse trouble. Oh sure, he could try slip out, run away... but where to? How would he be able to pass as normal, seeing all that he could without his eyes? He wouldn't know where to go, what to do; people would be looking for him too, and if they saw him acting normal, they would know something was wrong. And so Kamil sat on the bed, thinking such thoughts, worrying, until Hamal arrived. It was several hours until he returned, and he was quite upset about the shop being closed during peak business hours. He told Malik was to stop goofing off and go answer the door; Damali was to go watch her sister. A quiet conversation between the husband and wife occurred, where she explained the morning’s events. Kamil didn’t hear much, but in the end Hamal and his wife came in and promised him that they would keep his eruption safe, and try to get him safely out of the country. They asked him to stay the night, and told the orphanage that he wasn’t feeling well.
The next day, he practiced acting normal with Malik, while the adults discussed what to do with him. Umay planned to send a letter to her relatives in Turkey, who may be able to adopt Kamil or send him somewhere safer. Hamal was not too sure that would work- Turkey too had social issues with Novas, and most of Umay’s family would be aligned with those who considered Novas to be unclean.
Nothing too out of the ordinary happened for the next few weeks. Kamil went back to the orphanage, where he did his best to act normal and not raise any suspicion. It was difficult, especially when fights started up. A few of his fellows noticed that his punches seemed a little less wild, and he seemed to dodge better. Still, they put it too luck, even if Kamil was acting a bit jumpy of late. He continued to work at Hamal’s, where they would discuss how far along they were in getting Kamil out of the country.
But on one such day while Kamil was working, a foreign friend of Hamal’s came to visit. His name was Brian Connel, an English businessman with whom Hamal did business. Hamal seizes Brian’s sudden arrival to ask him to adopt Kamil, as the Western world had been more accepting of Novas. Brian was initially hesitant to accept, when Kamil butted into their conversation. More importantly, they had been speaking in English, not Arabic. More conversation revealed that yes, Kamil was fairly fluent in English, due to his studies. Brian was not, and could use a translator for his business deals, especially one that could ‘see’ entire rooms in great detail and had exceptional hearing.
So Brian made the arrangements with the orphanage to adopt Kamil. Kamil ended up living with Brian, who was often away from his English home on frequent business trips. Kamil functioned as a translator for Brian, increasing his English speaking skills and learning a little of other languages, including Hindi, French, and Italian. He lived with his new guardian for three years, during which time his communication with his brother ceased. On occasion he would think about contacting him, but he and Brian were constantly on the move, and he was quite busy.
Kamil would have mostly likely ended up as Brian’s translator forever, if not for a business transaction with Devia Corp. It was there that some of that organization’s agents noticed Kamil’s ability, and offered better education, and training. Kamil jumped at the chance- he didn't really want to be Brian's cheap labor anymore, even though he was still very grateful for his rescue. Since he had turned eighteen, there was nothing Brian could do to stop him.
With Devia, Kamil first learned to control his power with more precision, making him able to see things father away and with greater detail. The also worked on his physical strength and reflexes, making him more able to function in combat, though he tends to work more with missions that need surveillance than pure force.
LOTR, yo. All of them, probably the first most.
Sample Roleplay:
"Two of them. To the left... 20 meters."
His comrade nodded, and slinked off into the mist, leaving Kamil along again. He hunkered down where he was before, and absentmindly crushed a mosquito that landed on his arm.
He hardly needed the noise ping machine Devia provided him, there were so many goddamn chirping bugs in the swamp. His view was not obscured for nearly a mile, though he tried not to concentrate on things that far away. Besides the fact the image for so blurry, it had nothing to do with their current targets.
Thieves, they were. Stole a lot of money from some rich bugger, and now Devia got to get it back. And got a tidy share of the profit. Good for them, since they paid Kamil. He idly considered taking some off the thieves once captured (he could see some jewels bulging from the pocket of one), but then he would have to bother selling it. And that would be a pain.
"Where are they? I can't see a thing in this fog," muttered a voice near his ear. Kamil nearly jumped. He didn't like using the headset much; it messed with his view, and was far too loud for his ears. But it was needed for long distance communication.
He flicked the sound machine once just to get a clear picture of the situation. The image from the ping ground itself into his mind, and he smirked.
"Straight ahead of you, three, three and a half meters. What are you, blind?"
Since there was no reply, Kamil assumed his answer was heard. He focused his attention on the thieves again.
There went his partner. Kamil was certain he had seen the thieves, as he was heading right for them now. Their targets, however, were still unaware of their presence. Two yards away now... And there. He was spotted. It was too late for the thieves though- they were caught.
Kamil stood, brushing some stray dirt from his pants. Time to clean up. Proof of their capture wasn't going to magically appear in their van, no matter how much he wished it would.
"Alright! We got 'em!" screamed his 'buddy.' Kamil winced again, and ripped the headset out. Didn't he tell him not to do that?
Ah well. Sneaking up behind him while he was busy looting the thieves would be payback enough.
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Posted: Wed Jun 20, 2007 10:51 am
*Rubs hands together* Right. Lets get these guys tackled.
Also, 'cos someone asked. Here are some super hero name generators. Some of them you can put traits in for, some of them you plug names in for, but you can do either then just get a feel for some names. Hit or miss. It's fun? XD X, X, X, X
@Ariene: Yup. That's what we go for. -Okay, you're answering my questions for the power, but you're just answering them, you're not expanding very much beyond that. Ask more questions of yourself until you know the exact ins and outs of her power -- then type them out and tell them to us. I'm not sure if that's clear but I don't want you just going "and process (understand, yes.)" I want you to actually explain how she understands it. Is it instant, does she look at it, does she have to do a little dance and then she gets it, what? Does she understand verbal or written or what? Ask more questions (and answer them). -Can you re-work how the personality is written so it's a little less bumpy? Also, when her anger headaches go away does that lessen the power headaches or what? How can she tell that they're different headaches? -Okay, this has been bugging me, but I'm not sure I see what her power has to do with building advanced technology, from what I understand of her power she'd have to see the blueprints first, which means she can't make anything advanced, though she could re-make a computer if it got smashed or something. Enlighten me. Also still find it a little odd that after X-number of years of not seeing her the brothers haven't tried to visit her pretend boarding school or something. -Could you put spaces between your paragraphs and make sure they're actually paragraph sized too? Thanks!
@Pandali: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee -Can we change 'any ailment' to 'any ailment she's encountered so far' or something of the like? I like the big about the lung cancer. XD Just throwing that out there. S'well thought out. Last bit on the powers, can you give me an idea of how much is her limit, just for plotting purposes, like, five broken arms or something? Thanks.
@Yoder: Thanks for putting the sample in there. ^.^ -What happens when one of his bones is broken off? How quickly can he regrow it? How quickly can he extend his bones? How long can he keep his bones dense? What's his limit? What happens when he pushes his limit? Do his bones actually get sharp like a blade? How long can he keep his bones like that? What happens if he goes unconscious with bones sticking out, do they go back in? His hearing is impaired while he makes it but not when it's done being made, or is it still very mildly impaired, can't hear a whisper? Does the iris stay the same color? -Sanguine has to do with blood. XD I've got no problem with this, I'm just a curious Pansa, so why'd you pick it? (You can answer this outside of your profile.) -More on personality por favor. What makes him mad, sad, happy, what does he do when he's mad, sad, happy, what's he like in relationships, what does he love, what are his hobbies -- go wild. -Take out the bit about how long Galvan had been around, I think it's longer then that but am feeling a bit too lazy to look it up. =) Thanks. How did he get involved with Devia? -"that I'm have tomcome" What does that actually mean?
@Panpear: Wooooooooooshhhhh -Take a look at the name generators. That might help you a bit. -More on the personality. Emotions, likes, dislikes, sense of humor, whatever, just more detail please. =) -Few typos about, just proof it through one more time. -Also, I don't think they were still in school when Admon skipped out...I'll have to check with Krome and Merly first though. =) And a few other Nova went with him when he did storm out.
@Senshi: Whooooooooo. -Does he make the sound or are we talking the normal sounds of every day life? Does his own speaking hurt his ears? (And is this based off of Daredevil?) What would incapacitate him, a really loud noise? -Check out the name generators, see what they can come up with. ^.^ -His eye or eyes? Does he have pants he wears when he's not in a hurry? -Kamil is smaller then what? -More on personality -- details are key. Just tell me more about him. His emotions, hobbies, likes, dislikes, etc. Also, given the history I need more personality to make sure he's not an emowort. =] -You said he was the third child then the second son, I'm assuming the other child before him was a girl -- but could you actually work in a list of genders of his sibs if nothing else? What's 'qac'?
Whooo. Okay. There we go.
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Posted: Wed Jun 20, 2007 5:45 pm
@Pansa: Changes have been addressed. Still not too sure about the codename... sweatdrop Family relations are now mentioned near the beginning of the history, and some minor changes made at the end, in case you don't want to read through the whole thing again. ^^;; And for the record, I hadn't heard of Daredevil when this character concept first appeared to me, so I don't know how similar the two are (similar enough, it seems. XD)
Let me know if more changes are needed. Thanks!
Gaia Name: SenshiVulpix
Name: Kamil al-Abdulrahman
Age: 18
Alignment: Devia Corp
Special Abilities: Kamil is technically blind. But his power allows him to see with a sophisticated echolocation. His hearing is sensitive, but also resilient to high decibels. His range of hearing is also higher than a typical human's (~40000 Hz compared to 20000 Hz). The higher the frequency of sound, the clearer the image is. However, lower frequency sounds can 'see' farther (the energy doesn't dissipate as fast). In his mind, the sound is processed and he 'sees' fairly detailed black and white images. Black represents the absence of objects, while white would represent something right on his face. Varying shades of gray detail what is in between. A nice single sound gets him a clean image; he could map out details on a face 12 feet away ("You have seventeen zits on your forehead, didja know?"). Any sound will trigger this sight, so his ears hardly ever receive a single sound. Most times his mind takes multiple images of varying detail and merges them into a single picture, which happens every time he hears a sound. Add that to the fact that he generally gets a near 360 picture of his surroundings, and there is slight time delay (though keep in mind sound travels at 343 m/s), Kamil is prone to getting headaches. Sudden, unexpected changes in the sound environment (a large loud sound, or a sudden absence of sound) will startle and possibly stun him briefly. And if sound waves are unable to reach his ears properly (either his ears are covered or he's in a very wide and flat area), his power is rendered useless.
Codename: Visionary
Costume: His on-the-job outfit is nothing extravagant. He has a worn black leather jacket that he usually wears, unless the job requires other attire. If not in a hurry, Kamil also wears a dark green shirt underneath the jacket, along with black jeans and tennis shoes, and a bandana around his eyes that has green stripes on the ends. If he is in a hurry (or doesn’t feel like wearing a ‘costume,’) he just throws the jacket over whatever he is wearing.
Appearance: Kamil is smaller than the average male, only a little over 5'6'', and very skinny as well, though physical training with Devia has given him more muscle. His hair is black, coarse, and currently a 5-inch long mess all around his head. Under the bangs in the front, he wears a simple black bandana. It covers his now cloudy eyes that tend to roll aimlessly around, and to help him 'see' better with his ears (His eyes still can detect light and dark, which throws off his mental echolocation pictures). Kamil's clothes are usually well worn and baggy. His skin color is a darker olive color. When not out on the job, carries a white cane, not only to indicate that he is technically blind, but also to make noise by tapping it so he can see.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.
Personality: He is cynical and generally not that friendly to most people. When Kamil does talk, (for often he prefers to remain silent in his own thoughts,) his sharp tongue often releases sarcastic comments that tend to get him into trouble. He dislikes picking sides, and is prone more to inaction than action. Most people would call Kamil a pessimist, but he would call himself a realist. Life throws you nasty curves, get used to it. He also tries to avoid long conversations or other social situations, unless it's for some productive reason. Intellectual conversations are absolutely wonderful. But talking about some celebrity? Waste of time.
He likes to read in his spare time, having amassed a large collection of books on a variety of subjects (in Braille; it's too difficult to pick out printed text using his power, besides the fact no one taught him to read or write standard written text). A fair number are about languages, which Kamil continues to study in his spare time, in addition to removing the last traces of an accent from his speech. He also enjoys sculpting, sometimes with clay, but more often with less messy and more portable materials. In the morning, he is sure to get a cup of tea, heavily sugared. He loves tea. Kamil is noticeably cranky if he doesn’t get a cuppa in the morning, at least, if not several times during the day.
Kamil dislikes people who assume he can’t do things because of him being blind (yes, it has happened). It gives him a drive to prove them wrong, and once he sets his mind on a goal like that, it’s hard to stop him. In addition, he gets a little miffed when someone happens to be better than him at something, especially if Kamil thinks he’s really good at that task. He also lacks some common sense of when to hold his tongue, which obviously gets him into trouble. Usually his comments involve some kind of humor, though it may not be as funny to the person he addresses. He’s a little scared of thunderstorms, can’t stand pepperoni, and hates dogs.
History: Kamil was born in the governorate of Aden, which lies in the southern border of Yemen (a Middle Eastern country, south of Saudi Arabia), on the coast. However, Kamil and his family lived farther inwards, in a smaller village. He was his parents' third child, from the eventual total of six. The eldest was Rafi, followed by his sister Salim. After Kamil came his little brother Ali, little sister Jalia and eventually the little baby boy Shadi*. They lived in a small four-room house, with a decent income through their business in livestock (they owned a fair amount of sheep, cattle, and a few goats and camels). The children helped out as they could while growing up.
His childhood was relatively uneventful until his was five. It was then that his eyesight started to dissipate. It was at first dismissed as an excuse to get out of work, and was told to stop making up such stories. Only after he ran into a wall while playing with Salim and Ali that his parents took him to the nearby doctors.
After a few examinations the doctor determined that Kamil had some sort of hereditary blindness, and that the boy's sight would continue to deteriorate. There was no medicine or treatment they could give him, though he wanted them to keep bringing Kamil in for check ups, so he could monitor the condition.
Needless to say, the news was devastating, for both Kamil and his family. There was a short period of time when everyone was silent when he walked in a room and gave him a wide birth, as if blindness was contagious. But after a few weeks, they got over the fact he was having trouble seeing, and life went on. Kamil tried to make the best of it, but even at the age of five, was not very optimistic. Those who gave him the most support were his siblings; they treated him as normal, though he did not realize they did little things to make his life easier. Chairs he was about to collide with were moved; objects he was groping for pushed into reach; overlooking his obvious hiding place in a game of hide and seek; the list goes on. His mother would coddle him when he got upset; would explain why all this happened to him and how it wasn't his fault at all; how God intended him to be an example to others to appreciate the gift of sight (though Kamil couldn't help but wonder why God didn't pick someone else). His father, however, distanced himself from his second son; he would be of no use on the farm, it would seem. If only his wife could bear him more sons!
And so in a six month period, Kamil lost almost all of his sight. He could tell where light was, which helped him navigate when no one was around. His hearing improved some, as well as his other senses, to make up for the lack of sight. His parents got him a metal cane, painted white, so people would know he couldn't see, and so he could make sure not to trip on things (the doctor had sold it to them, after teaching Kamil how to get around).
When he was six ("nearly seven,” he would add), his mother sent him and his older brother, Rafi, to the doctor for Kamil's final check up, as his father was busy. Rafi seemed happy to do the chore- it would keep him out of the fields, and they would be in the main part of town for the majority of the day. It would be fun. Little did they know of the tragedy that was about to befall them...
"What's that smell?" asked Kamil, holding his brother's hand. They were walking home after seeing the doctor. He had told them they didn't need to come again; Kamil's eyesight would stay as it was now for the rest of his life. Of course, they had made a pitstop at the market, where Rafi had bought them both some sweets, and some qat (a chew plant for dad, but they both snuck a few pieces for later).
"What smell?" replied Rafi. "I don't smell anything."
Kamil sniffed the air again. "That smell... you know, like the one when we're cooking the old sheep that die."
"I don't smell anything. Besides, dad would've told us if he was doing that today."
"Would've told you," sulked Kamil. Their father hardly spoke to him anymore.
Rafi rolled his eyes, and ignored Kamil's comment. They walked in silence for a few minutes until Rafi stopped suddenly, staring off towards their house. Kamil kept walking, until his hand jerked out of Rafi's.
"What's the matter?" he asked, turning towards where he thought Rafi was standing.
"There's... smoke..." His brother's voice sounded distant. A moment later Kamil was carefully guided over somewhere off the road.
"Stay here," Rafi's voice commanded, but sounded rather shaky. In the distance Kamil could hear some screams, the sound of fire, a few gunshots.
"Wait-" he started to say, but Rafi had already gone.
Kamil waited. And waited. And waited some more. He eventually sat down, leaning against his cane, which he had stuck in the ground, like some sort of flagpole. He was worried. If there was smoke, there was a fire, and fire was bad. It was hard to put them out with just sand, but they couldn't use water- there wasn't enough of that. And why did Rafi sound so... chilled?
Several hours past before Rafi came back to him. The older boy collapsed next to his brother and did not speak. Tears were running down his face; Kamil could feel them.
"What happened? What is it? What happened?" he questioned, but got no answer right away. Rafi was holding him tightly and crying. Kamil started to get frightened.
It seemed like an eternity passed before Rafi spoke.
"They're dead," he whispered.
"What!?" came Kamil's equally hushed reply.
"O-our family. They're all dead." Rafi hiccupped once, trying to calm down and be strong for his brother.
"All of them?" came Kamil's horrified response.
"Y-yes. M-mom and dad and Salim and Ali..."
"Even Shadi?" Shadi was their little baby brother. How could he be dead? Kamil thought. Who could harm someone so small and innocent?
Rafi nodded, and then remembered who he was with. "Yes," he said softly.
Kamil sat in absolute silence for a long moment, in shock. Could this be true? Maybe Rafi was teasing- but that thought was banished as soon as Kamil thought it. Rafi wouldn't tease like this. And he had gone to the house, and no one came. And there was the smell of fire and... Overcome with emotion, Kamil buried himself into his brother's arms, sobbing. Rafi wrapped his arms around his brother, and the two stayed like that for many hours.
---
Dirty business, it was, the neighbors said. All were saddened by the loss of such a prominent family in the community, and only two of the children surviving, well, praise Allah for that little miracle, but... it was still dirty business. Official cause of death was by fire, though everyone knew that the 'guests' Muhammad was seeing earlier killed them and then burned their house down. That Muhammad had been getting into some pretty tricky political situations, and the strong rebel hold nearby didn't like that. He should've thought more of his family and of his business, the neighbors said.
The community was not heartless though. They paid for the funeral service, and found a temporary home for the boys. They mourned the three days that were set aside for mourning, and then the community's life went on.
The two had no living relatives in the area, and no one had the means (or so they said) to take the boys on. Instead, they were sent into the city of Aden to an orphanage.
The place was an interfaith community, where one could practice any religion they choose (though emphasis was on Sunni Islam, as was the common religion in the region). It had been founded by foreigners, missionaries from some place, but had been taken over by more local factions, though many foreign volunteers worked there. It was also a busy city place, much different from their life in the village.
"Your name?" asked the secretary, who was given the task of making the records for new arrivals. She had a slight accent.
"Rafi ibn Muhammad al-Nuhad ibn Nasser al-Abdulrahman," Rafi said smoothly. He had a protective hand on Kamil's shoulder.
The secretary gave him a blank look. "Rafi... al-Abdulrahman," she wrote out carefully, leaving out the majority of his name. "And you?" She looked at Kamil, and Rafi gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Kamil ibn Muhammad-" But he was cut off by the secretary, who merely wrote down 'Kamil al-Abdulrahman.'
She pressed them for more information before assigning them beds in the dormitory.
---
The next couple of years the two boys spent their time adjusting to their new life in the orphanage. During the morning there were classes, and in the afternoon they were to either study, or were assigned some chore to do. This would be the pattern, they were informed, until they turned 12, at which point in time they would try and find work for them to do, to bring in money, unless they did exceptionally well at their studies in the orphanage. Then they could apply to be.
For Kamil, the adjustment was hard. There were hardly any tasks he could do well, and some he couldn't do at all. He had a hard time controlling his tongue, and more than once Rafi had to step in to keep his little brother from getting the crap beat out of him (not to say that Kamil couldn't fight; he bit, scratched, kicked, elbowed, kneed, punched and/or lashed out at –anything- during a fight. Those who attacked him often came out with an equal amount of injuries). Both were still deeply affected by their family's death; during the first few months Kamil would sneak into Rafi's bed at night, where he did not break into tears on occasion and cry into his brother’s shirt. Who told you that? They were obviously lying.
But life went on, and the years rolled by. They generally kept to themselves, though Rafi made more friends than Kamil, partially because of his outgoing personality, and because Kamil couldn’t partake in games of tag, soccer, etc. The two dedicated themselves to their studies, as there was little else for them to do. Plus, Rafi noted, it kept Kamil out of trouble, and both of their minds off of their family.
Nothing extremely noteworthy happened until Kamil was nine, which was when he got his own room. It was an unprecedented act at the orphanage until then. Kamil though, was special. Mainly because he always seemed to be involved in, if not the cause of, the fights that erupted after the lights were out. There were just too many of them in a single week, and the staff were really tired of fixing Kamil’s injuries, not to mention the ones on at least ten other boys. One of the storage rooms near the dormitory was cleared out and in it they stuck a bed and a small set of drawers. The bed reached from wall to wall, and the drawers were placed next to the bed, across from the door. It looked cramped, but suited Kamil just fine. The number of fights decreased almost instantly, and the staff too was pleased.
About a year and a half later was when his brother left. Kamil was nearly eleven, and Rafi close to fifteen. Rafi had been attending one of the local schools; his studies at the orphanage had been superior, and he had elected to continue learning. And then, one day, he returned home with some glorious news- he was going to study abroad! In America!
He’d come back during breaks though. And this was only a three-year arrangement, so he wouldn’t be gone forever. The orphanage was overjoyed; Rafi would spread word of their organization while there, which meant more money. And when he came back, he would be sure to find a good job. It would be excellent. Kamil was unsure about this at first, but after some long talks with his brother, thought it would be really cool. Plus Rafi would write to him and Hakim or Armir could read the letters to him. And if Rafi had some money to spare, he could buy Kamil some presents. Perhaps some more books- Kamil had only two books in Braille, and he had them practically memorized.
And so it was not long before Rafi left for his schooling in America. True to his word, monthly letters would arrive, and every now and then Kamil would receive a package, containing some sort of literature in Braille. He even got an English-Arabic dictionary in Braille; needless to say, it was quite large. At first, Rafi would come home for breaks, but then he started to stay in America for longer periods of time with his host family. Kamil missed him when he stayed away, feeling a little hurt and betrayed. But he still coveted the books his brother sent him.
Kamil continued his education at the orphanage, and did quite well, especially in his language studies, particularly English. The schoolmaster at the orphanage had a feeling that Kamil wanted to go to America too, like his brother. But the local schools did not want to accept him as a student since it would be too much of a hassle for them. The orphanage, being tactful, did not inform Kamil this was the reason wasn’t accepted into the schools. He didn’t mind too much (or at least he didn’t let on that he minded), as he got to stay and learn at the orphanage for an extra year, as they just could not find a job for him to do. Instead, because he was older, they had him lead shopping expeditions to get groceries as a way for him to earn his keep. Mostly it was to get him out of the building, as all children needed some fresh air. It's not as if they expected him to keep an eye on the younger children who went with him. All he had to do was remember what they needed to buy and hold the money until they found what they needed. It was on one such shopping excursion that Kamil found himself, yet again, abandoned by his wards. It was a common occurrence. They would swirl and chat around him, and then direct him to a 'market stall' where they needed to buy something. Minutes later, they would be gone, and Kamil would be left standing next to a wall or post, or wherever they decided to leave him. After the first few times it had happened, Kamil got used to it and would often sit down to read until they came back. Then he would make sure they had gotten everything while they were out having fun, and then they would go home. This particular day was no different, and after a quick investigation, Kamil deduced he was standing in front of an old wooden post of some sort. He sat down, cross-legged, to wait. "So they just abandon ya, huh?" said a deep voice nearby. Startled, Kamil jerked up, and then sat up straight. "Um, yes," he said. "Saw it happen. Do they do it often?" the voice asked. It was to Kamil's left. "Yeah, but they come back." "Huh. Seems like a rotten thing to do, just to leave you out here." Kamil shrugged. There wasn't much else he could do about it, and it gave him some reading time. "Here," the voice said, and a hand touched his shoulder, "come sit with us in the shade. We'll keep an eye out for those kids." Kamil, sensing he didn't have a choice in the matter, let the hand guide him a ways over, into some shade. "Have a seat on the ground there. I am Hamal, a humble merchant. This is my wife, Umay." A female voice spoke up. "Pleased to meet you..." "Kamil." "Kamil," Umay repeated. "I asked Hamal to fetch you; we see you often enough, and those awful other children always leave you alone out in the sun..." "Uh... thanks," Kamil said, as he really didn't know what to make of the situation. And so Umay asked for more information about Kamil, such as why he went to the market with the other children, and where he was from. In turn, they supplied more information about themselves and their store. It was one of the larger enterprises on that side of town, as they imported foreign goods. Kamil also met their two children, Malik and Damali. Dinnertime came, and the wayward children still had not shown up. Umay invited Kamil to stay for dinner, as he had been such a good help by sorting an order of beads by size and shape (the other children had further sorted them by color). After dinner, Hamal telephoned the orphanage, explaining where Kamil was. They sent down one of their workers right away from him, telling Hamal that the children who left him there had been appropriately dealt with. Twenty minutes later, Kamil was picked up and taken back to the orphanage. They next day, he was summoned to the Headmistress's office. Feeling angry that he would get into trouble when the other ones left him alone in the marketplace, he steeled himself for a serious scolding. Instead, he was informed he was to work at Hamal's shop from now on. "One of the other boys who works in town will drop you off there in the morning and pick you up in the evening. Their family had generously decided to provide you lunch, so there is no need to bring one," she explained. "I suppose it was fortunate those boys left you standing there, eh?" She chuckled; Kamil forced a smile onto his face. "Now, take these to them; it's some forms they need to fill out. Bring them back with you once they are filled out. Now, I believe Fathi will take you there today..." And so Kamil began his first and only job in Yemen at Hamal's shop. He worked there doing sorting and other jobs that didn't need the use of eyes until he erupted, two years later. It began a typical morning; Kamil was sitting outside under the awning, sorting through a box of nuts. Damali was helping him. Behind the counter to their right was Malik, who was 'in charge' while his father took care of some business on the other side of town. Upstairs, Umay was taking care of her new baby, Jamila, a beautiful little girl. She was born three months ago, to the delight of her parents. Umay called something out the window of the second floor. "What was that?" yelled Damali. A louder, but still unintelligible call came from the window. "What? I can't hear you!" yelled Damali again, louder. Kamil winced. It seemed especially loud. And something else bother him too, though he wasn't sure what it was. Umay leaned out of the second story window. Jamila was in a cloth sling that tied around Umay's neck; she too dangled outside the window, but Umay kept one arm upon her child. "I said, do you happen to know where I- oh!" Just then, the sling's knot came untied. Umay's grip was not strong enough to keep her child from falling. Nor was she able to catch her; only to watch in horror as Jamila fell. The baby let out an almighty scream. Suddenly, Kamil saw everything. The cry pierced into his brain, and illuminated the streets, the buildings, the people turning in surprise at the baby's cry. He saw Umay's panicked expression, Damali's one of astonishment. He saw Malik leaning over the counter, concerned. And he saw Jamila, her face screwed up as she screamed, tumbling midair. It was like it was in slow motion; he saw how she was falling through the air, and if he just moved, just a little past the baskets full of rings, he could catch her. He darted forward, now in this world full of objects, things, people, arms outstretched, and he caught the baby, moving with her at first and then slowing her descent until she came to a stop. She kept crying; each wail filled Kamil's mind with the images of people, of the buildings, of everything. They looked so familiar, but different at the same time. He was incredibly confused. He just stood there, clutching the crying baby, trembling. Malik was the first to act. He leapt over the counter, and steered Kamil to the inside of their house, saying loudly things such as "Lucky catch, that!" and "Good instinct you have there." Then he told Damali to pack up any goods outside and come in as well. Next came Umay, running downstairs, screaming, laughing, crying. She grabbed Jamila from Kamil's arms and began to soothe her, to kiss her, praising Allah all the while.
Kamil was still shaking, in shock. He could see it all, waves of images that would appear when there was sound, and fade when there was none. They would wax and wane in intensity. It frightened him. Malik, noting Kamil's lack of movement, guided him over to a chair and made him sit down. Kamil provided no resistance, but seemed a bit jumpy. It took quite a few minutes for Damali to close up shop, and for all of them to assure themselves that Jamila was all right, physically. The baby had a few bruises it seemed, but was all right. Only after Jamila had been put to bed (which took a long time, as Umay was now reluctant to let the baby out of her sight for even one second), did they go to question how exactly Kamil managed to catch the baby. "So... how did you catch her? How did you know where she was?" asked Malik. He considered himself to be in charge while Hamal was out. "I-" He paused. His spoken word created another picture in his head, which caught him off guard. Steeling himself for more pictures, he started again. "I don't know. I- I just saw it." His audience looked confused. "What, like a premonition?" asked Damali. Kamil shook his head. "No. It's... it's more like I'm seeing. Seeing..." he faltered. He wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. Or how. "Seeing?" repeated Malik, puzzled. "Here, let me see your eyes," Umay said, and deftly took off the cloth Kamil wrapped around them. He flinched slightly as he saw her hands reach for his head. Blinking at the removal of the cloth, Kamil realized his eyes had nothing to do with his 'seeing.' In fact, he found it harder to 'see,' because the light he saw in the room masked out parts of the image. But he could still see the three of them peering closely at his face. Umay shook her head. "No, you see nothing out of them." She handed the cloth back, and Kamil quickly secured it over his eyes once again; most people did not like to look at them too long. "Then how is he seeing things?" demanded Malik to his mother, who shook her head and shrugged. "It's... it's like images show up when there is noise. When you speak. Or I speak. And I see everything around me, but there is no color..." supplied Kamil. All of them were silent for a moment. Then Umay said, "Kamil, please go to Malik's room and stay there until someone gets you." She sounded distant. Not having anything better to do, Kamil complied, carefully getting up and walking across the room to the bedroom door, where he let himself in. He could see their faces even with his back to them; the children looked nervous, Umay worried. As he shut the door, he heard Malik quietly ask, "Do you think he could be a Nova?" His mother shushed him. A Nova. A sudden feeling of dread rushed over Kamil. That would make sense; an unnatural way of seeing... he... he was a Nova. He walked over to the bed, still shaking, and sat down. He found it ironic that now he was able to see again, something he had always wished would happen, that he would be killed. He remembered a couple of years ago at the orphanage. One of the children had grown a tail. It was blue, and pointy at the end. He had also grown some long, fearsome looking horns, and some bat like wings. They had locked him away in a room when this happened; a government agent was going to come later to dispose of the unclean Nova. Everyone knew that Novas were an abomination, unclean in the sight of God, and needed to be purged from the earth. They were unnatural. It was a blessing to be rid of them. Kamil knew all this, but sometimes wondered about it. He could not see the change, and from what he had heard, nothing else really changed about the person except physical abilities. Did their personality really change so much that God could no longer love them?
He had doubted it, as did many of the other children at the orphanage. He still remembered hearing Amir (for that was the Nova’s name) screaming for someone to let him out, for someone to save him. Kamil did nothing, partly because Amir had given him a black eye a couple weeks ago, and partly out of fear of retribution. No one else made an attempt to free the boy either, because of the same fear, or out of fear of Novas themselves. Kamil didn’t actually see the tail or anything, but from what everyone else said, they looked pretty scary. At the moment, he felt like shouting for help too. It wouldn’t do him any good- in fact, it would probably get him into worse trouble. Oh sure, he could try slip out, run away... but where to? How would he be able to pass as normal, seeing all that he could without his eyes? He wouldn't know where to go, what to do; people would be looking for him too, and if they saw him acting normal, they would know something was wrong. And so Kamil sat on the bed, thinking such thoughts, worrying, until Hamal arrived. It was several hours until he returned, and he was quite upset about the shop being closed during peak business hours. He told Malik was to stop goofing off and go answer the door; Damali was to go watch her sister. A quiet conversation between the husband and wife occurred, where she explained the morning’s events. Kamil didn’t hear much, but in the end Hamal and his wife came in and promised him that they would keep his eruption safe, and try to get him safely out of the country. They asked him to stay the night, and told the orphanage that he wasn’t feeling well.
The next day, he practiced acting normal with Malik, while the adults discussed what to do with him. Umay planned to send a letter to her relatives in Turkey, who may be able to adopt Kamil or send him somewhere safer. Hamal was not too sure that would work- Turkey too had social issues with Novas, and most of Umay’s family would be aligned with those who considered Novas to be unclean.
Nothing too out of the ordinary happened for the next few weeks. Kamil went back to the orphanage, where he did his best to act normal and not raise any suspicion. It was difficult, especially when fights started up. A few of his fellows noticed that his punches seemed a little less wild, and he seemed to dodge better. Still, they put it too luck, even if Kamil was acting a bit jumpy of late. He continued to work at Hamal’s, where they would discuss how far along they were in getting Kamil out of the country.
But on one such day while Kamil was working, a foreign friend of Hamal’s came to visit. His name was Brian Connel, an English businessman with whom Hamal did business. Hamal seizes Brian’s sudden arrival to ask him to adopt Kamil, as the Western world had been more accepting of Novas. Brian was initially hesitant to accept, when Kamil butted into their conversation. More importantly, they had been speaking in English, not Arabic. More conversation revealed that yes, Kamil was fairly fluent in English, due to his studies. Brian was not, and could use a translator for his business deals, especially one that could ‘see’ entire rooms in great detail and had exceptional hearing.
So Brian made the arrangements with the orphanage to adopt Kamil. Kamil ended up living with Brian, who was often away from his English home on frequent business trips. Kamil functioned as a translator for Brian, increasing his English speaking skills and learning a little of other languages, including Hindi, French, and Italian. He lived with his new guardian for three years, during which time his communication with his brother ceased. On occasion he would think about contacting him, but he and Brian were constantly on the move, and he was quite busy.
Kamil would have mostly likely ended up as Brian’s translator forever, if not for a business transaction with Devia Corp. It was there that some of that organization’s agents noticed Kamil’s ability, and offered better education, and training. Kamil jumped at the chance- he didn't really want to be Brian's cheap labor anymore, even though he was still very grateful for his rescue. Since he had turned eighteen, there was nothing Brian could do to stop him.
With Devia, Kamil first learned to control his power with more precision, making him able to see things father away and with greater detail. The also worked on his physical strength and reflexes, making him more able to function in combat, though he tends to work more with missions that need surveillance than pure force.
*Full Family Information: Full name: Kamil ibn Muhammad al-Nuhad ibn Nasser al-Abdulrahman Father's name: Abu Rafi Muhammad al-Nuhad ibn Nasser ibn Qabil al-Abdulrahman Mother's name: Umm Rafi Duaa al-Abdulrahman Children's names (oldest to youngest, with age relations): Rafi (male: 10), Salim (female: 9), Kamil (male: 6), Ali (male: 4), Jalia (female: 3), Shadi (male: 1).
LOTR, yo. All of them, probably the first most.
Sample Roleplay:
"Two of them. To the left... 20 meters."
His comrade nodded, and slinked off into the mist, leaving Kamil along again. He hunkered down where he was before, and absentmindly crushed a mosquito that landed on his arm.
He hardly needed the noise ping machine Devia provided him, there were so many goddamn chirping bugs in the swamp. His view was not obscured for nearly a mile, though he tried not to concentrate on things that far away. Besides the fact the image for so blurry, it had nothing to do with their current targets.
Thieves, they were. Stole a lot of money from some rich bugger, and now Devia got to get it back. And got a tidy share of the profit. Good for them, since they paid Kamil. He idly considered taking some off the thieves once captured (he could see some jewels bulging from the pocket of one), but then he would have to bother selling it. And that would be a pain.
"Where are they? I can't see a thing in this fog," muttered a voice near his ear. Kamil nearly jumped. He didn't like using the headset much; it messed with his view, and was far too loud for his ears. But it was needed for long distance communication.
He flicked the sound machine once just to get a clear picture of the situation. The image from the ping ground itself into his mind, and he smirked.
"Straight ahead of you, three, three and a half meters. What are you, blind?"
Since there was no reply, Kamil assumed his answer was heard. He focused his attention on the thieves again.
There went his partner. Kamil was certain he had seen the thieves, as he was heading right for them now. Their targets, however, were still unaware of their presence. Two yards away now... And there. He was spotted. It was too late for the thieves though- they were caught.
Kamil stood, brushing some stray dirt from his pants. Time to clean up. Proof of their capture wasn't going to magically appear in their van, no matter how much he wished it would.
"Alright! We got 'em!" screamed his 'buddy.' Kamil winced again, and ripped the headset out. Didn't he tell him not to do that?
Ah well. Sneaking up behind him while he was busy looting the thieves would be payback enough.
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Posted: Wed Jun 20, 2007 5:55 pm
Woooosh!
We got'a winner.
=D
Accepted.
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Posted: Wed Jun 20, 2007 7:04 pm
I won't be able to do the changes until Monday. I am sorry for this, I'll get back to you. I am currently using my sister's laptop and I have to beg to even get on for a few minutes, let alone make major changes to my profile. I will definitely think on it and try to make the next one actually worth your while.
Bye!
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2007 7:47 am
Gaia Name: Pandali Name: Arielle Leonora Mancini (Ari for short) Age: 22 Alignment: Team Tomorrow Special Abilities: Transfer Healing. Ari is able to heal anyone with any ailment she has encountered so far, but not without serious consequences to herself. When she heals someone, it is more of a transfer of ailments than an actual cure – whatever illness they had she then gains herself. Specifics: - Ari heals 75% faster than a normal human when she gets injuries directly (not pulled from someone else). - When she transfers injuries or illnesses to herself, it takes her 25% of the time they had the wound plus the time they would have had the wound to heal. - Thus, she cannot heal permanent injuries without permanent harm to herself – ie. Blindness, missing limbs, death, etc. She is not 100% sure on this, considering she hasn’t tried, but doesn’t want to risk permanently harming herself. The closest she ever got to this was when, still learning what her powers could do, she transferred lung cancer to herself. Luckily, one of the other novas had just discovered the cure. - To transfer physical wounds, she puts her hands over the general area of the wound – this can be difficult when the wound is internal because she has to figure out the area it is in. As far as she knows, the only mental illnesses she can transfer are headaches, which she transfers by putting her hands on the person’s head. - The only way she can heal herself, other than by waiting for it to naturally go away, is to transfer it onto someone else. - Healing exerts a lot of energy. The larger the wound and the longer someone has had it, the more energy it takes to transfer it. When she does over exert herself – which can happen when she tries to heal too many people at once or heal something large like a gash running all the way along someone’s side – she faints and her heart beat slows. She can heal about 10-15 people with minor wounds at once, but only about 3-5 with major ones (broken arms, deep cuts, internal bleeding, etc.) Something that brings someone close to death – like the large gash mentioned above – it is risky for her to heal even one. One time she nearly went into a coma. This makes her very cautious about whom she heals and why, because fainting and having a large gash in one’s side can be very dangerous. Codename: Remedy Costume: Arielle has always loved Renaissance culture, and her costume reflects that, in a more modern way. She wears loose brown cotton pants underneath a knee-length green tunic. The tunic is a v-neck and embroidered with small, gold leaves along the collar, hem, and three-quarter sleeves. She wears a brown sash around her waist. The loose clothing also provides easy access to any external wounds she receives in her work. The TT symbol is stitched in gold on the shoulder of the tunic. She also carries with her a modern-looking brown brief case, embroidered with the TT symbol in gold and green. Despite being leather, the brief case is fire proof and water proof and has a large strap that she can sling over her head. Within it are several modern medical necessities – band-aids, gauze, rubbing alcohol, first aid kit, etc. Not wanting to have hordes of fanatic people pounding her doors for “miracle healings”, she also wears a half mask. The mask is gold with two, large green cloth leaves coming off one side. ((I know you all don’t like pictures, but I felt the need to put up a link to a picture of this mask)) Her hair is usually in a braid wrapped around her head, to keep it out of the way. Appearance: Ari is 5’5, thin, and not “well endowed” – she weighs about 135 lbs. She has very pale skin, which is prone to sunburns, but not to freckles. Her straight, light brown hair is usually in a braid hanging down to her waist. Her eyes are brown and her nose is rather sharp, but not so much that it is hooked or looks snobbish. Her face is elongated rather than round. Typically, she wears jeans and a t-shirt or the occasional skirt. Her favorite color to wear is green, but she’ll wear almost any color accept for orange – it doesn’t look so good against her skin. Shoes depend on the occasion, but she prefers to wear sandals when she can. She has the habit of carrying a medical emergency kit with her everywhere. Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Personality: Because she so often has to deal with the pains of others, Ari has learned to hide her emotions most of the time – it’s hard enough dealing with pain without bawling and crying. It is also easier for those she’s helping if she is calm and collected. She hasn’t become used to pain – she doesn’t think anyone could – but she is able to handle pain, even in stressful situations. She is calm and practical in most situations, but when she gets truly angry – which is not very often – she really loses her temper. Her words become sharp and cruel towards whoever she is angry at and she tends not to act very reasonably. Often she ends up aiming her anger at everyone around her, not just the person she is angry at. It tends to be more verbal than physical, though. Mostly what ticks her off is when people call her a liar, treat her as a second rate person who isn’t worth their time, or refuse assistance because of their own stupid pride – just because you’re strong or smart doesn’t mean you don’t ever need any help. Romantically, she is very picky about who she dates. Growing up with a romantic novelist for a mother, she’s used to reading about all of the perfect guys and expects to find them out in the real world, too. History: Ari was born in St. Paul, Minnesota to a romantic novelist and a Renaissance historian and professor – thus the rather elegant name. Needless to say, most of their family vacations were spent in museums or the occasional splurge on a European castle. How they fell in love she’ll never understand – every time her mother finishes a medieval romance, her father complains about how historically inaccurate it is. She led a pretty normal life – going to school, hanging out with friends, going to parties, etc – until she was fourteen. She and her friend Karen were horsing around on a jungle gym in the park near her home – even though they both knew they were a bit too old to be doing so. All of a sudden, Karen fell and hit her head. There was blood all over the playground, no one else was around, and neither of them had thought to bring a cell phone with them. Arielle hurried down the jungle gym and ran over to her friend. Crying, she tore up the bottom of her shirt and pressed it to her friend’s head and just kept willing Karen to get better. Suddenly, there was a searing pain in Ari’s head - then it was gone. Ari opened her eyes and looked down at her suddenly woundless friend. Ari was shaking as Karen opened her eyes, sat up, and looked at her, rubbing her head like she had a headache. “What happened?” she asked. “You-you fell.” Ari replied, shakily. “Wow. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt myself – c’mon, let’s head back to your house...” Karen paused; she looked around and saw all of the blood around her. Eyes wide, she turned back to Ari and whispered, “What happened?” Later that evening, Ari and Karen told her parents what had happened, not sure if they would believe it. Amazingly, they did and said that they had been hearing about different strange occurrences around the world from people known as novas. A couple of months later, she was off to Galvan. It soon became apparent that she couldn’t simply heal people, and that the searing pain she had felt that day was the short time she had held Karen’s wound herself. She learned to be wary of when she used her skills and why. She graduated from Galvan feeling much more comfortable with what she did. Knowing that there would be many people she would want to help but would be unable to without seriously harming herself, she went to nursing school to learn more practical ways of dealing with injuries so she could leave her gift as a last resort. She graduated just before the stoning. The stoning made her angry, but Admon’s speech made her angrier still. He talked about not repeating history, but it seemed to her that was just what he was doing. To her, he was the next Hitler – he felt repressed, so he encourages all those repressed with him to destroy those who were repressing them. She knew it was probably going to end badly for Admon just as it did for Hitler, especially when he said that all novas should be leaders and Kings and stuff like that. That was completely illogical – not every nova could be a leader and someone would end up crushed under his regime, not only humans, but novas as well. He just wanted power for himself and was luring people to work under his dictatorship. His speech alone would cause chaos all over the world. Not long after Admon made his announcement to the world, she was recruited for Team Tomorrow. She plays more of a support role than anything else on the team, but is often found out on the field – if not actually using her powers, then at least helping people get to safety or to a good hospital. Sample Roleplay: Arielle walked into the living room of her apartment, grabbed the remote, and plopped down on the couch. Turning to the news, what she saw shocked her – a nova, with tortured human prisoners hanging behind him. There had been so much turmoil going on lately, but she had never expected a reaction like this. Listening to his ravings, she glared at the TV and tapped her foot impatiently. He talked about not making the same mistakes and that every nova should be the king of the world and junk like that. What he sounded like to her was another Hitler – being pushed down, he was asking the people to destroy the ones pushing against him. This would just make things worse, and besides, not every nova would end up on top, no matter what he said. There was always a bottom of the food chain and a bunch of novas, not to mention humans, would be destroyed by this. Not able to listen to it anymore, she turned off the TV and threw the remote on the ground, practically breaking it. Pacing and clenching her fists, the phone rang. Picking it up, she practically spit, “Hello?!” It was her parents, wanting to see if she’d seen the news yet. Favorite food: cucumbers
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2007 8:11 am
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2007 2:04 pm
Gaia Name: George Crux (I have changed one of my mules to make it easier)
Name: George Crux
Age: 25
Alignment: Suffra, barely. Devia Corporation
Special Abilities: Sonic manipulation. In the most basic terms, George can control the path, and intensity of sound. Dampening it down to nothing, or amplifying it to a deafening roar and physical wave. It is, however, manipulation and not creation. Without ambient sound to work with, he would be powerless in this aspect. It also takes time to amplify sound, so it is not as if he has an unlimited amount of munitions in any given situation. In the right place, however . . .
Just for comparison purposes, here is a chart of decibel levels- the measurement of how loud a sound is.
1 - The smallest difference between sounds detectable by the human ear 10 - A light whisper 20 - A quiet conversation 30 - A normal conversation 40 - Light traffic 50 - Loud conversation 60 - Shouting 70 - Heavy Traffic 80 - Loud noise; subways, rock concerts 90 - Very loud; thunder 100 - Jet engine takeoff; temporarily deafening 140 - Extremely loud, painful, deafening
It is also possible to feel sound as a physical force. Anybody that has been near a large speaker that was turned up can tell you of the way wind is created by the sound. This is not possible unless a large amount of sound is concentrated, or expelled. While it is something George is capable of, without a very loud source to draw upon, it is typically a single shot situation. With such a large amount of sonic power, it becomes visible to the naked (human) eye. Seen as a confined ripple, imagine looking straight down a glass of water as you bump the table it is on, only the ripples do not dissipate.
Other abilities include amplification of sound- meaning he can make a conversation louder from a distance, but only to a certain degree. If a sound is raised above around 15 decibels, all quality is lost as the sound evens out. While is starts as a conversation, if raised too much, it will become a single tone.
The inverse is also possible, though. Calling it his 'Null Shell,' George can reduce sound around him to nil, literally canceling out the sounds in his immediate area, to a radius of ten feet. He has no control over the range of this as of yet; it is merely like a switch. Should the cancellation be enacted, it is on in a spherical area.
As a side effect of the advanced sound capability, George's hearing is greatly amplified. Able to hear a fraction of a decibel, his hearing rivals that of any Nova documented. Also his hearing extends beyond the upper and lower limits of the human ear, making him capable of hearing both Super and Ultrasonic tones.
Unable to control that, however, he was forced to have a limiter surgically set into his inner ears. Three settings are available to him via sub dermal control in his hand. Off, allowing him to use his full hearing, Partial, which keeps his hearing close to normal human and allowing him to live a 'normal' life, and Full, whereas his hearing is protected should he be in a loud noise situation. He is unaware of anybody having access to his control but him as it is fused into his being, and is biotechnology developed by the Devia Corporation.
Recently, he has begun to experiment with developing a form of sonar. Combining his hearing with mild sounds (often out of human range), he is able to discern some extremely basic information of his surroundings. this can be done with almost any sound, not merely the squawk of a bat, or something like that. This is an ability that can be developed, but not one that is instinctual to his Nova status or abilities. As such, he has yet to truly experiment with sounds for any optimum result, or to discern more than the size of a room he is in
Nothing is without consequences, however. Though he has yet to truly see what his power can do, neither his projection, amplification, or nullification powers will ever likely cause a drawback. What problem there is, however, is his storage of energy. Regardless of how his powers are used, if he overexerts himself, his body will 'evolve' into a more efficent sensory and storage component for sonic vibrations. Rather than go deaf, his body will become more and more sensitive to sound, literally becoming more of a living ear. If severe enough, his limiter will be of no further use.
To date, Crux has absorbed a maximum of 173 decibels for immediate use. That was a massive strain on him, but not an permanently damaging one. 185 decibles would cause him great unease, and likely begin a physical change, but one so small as to be difficult to discern. A good estimate of his limit would be around 200 decibels, as long as they are immediately used.
Retaining sonic energy for later use is a different situation altogether. Holding less than 100 decibles of sound is not taxing, and he can do that often with no ill effect. However, going over that for anything longer than a few minutes begins to be difficult. Going over 150, or holding 100+ for longer than about five minutes causes his skeletal structure to ache terribly. Like a body-wise arthritis, increasing in pain for every ten minutes it is held.
For instance, at the onset, it is a mild discomfort. After about ten minutes, it becomes a dull ache across his entire body. Another ten minutes and the pain is enough to make him wince. Yet another ten minutes (we are at 40 minutes of holding his charge above 100 decibels) and his concentration is very difficult to hold on anything due to pain. Another few minutes and it takes all his willpower to fight off the pain his body screams at him. At one hour it is nothing but pure agony and chances of him holding on are slim to none. The pain is overwhelming, and he will let it go at the first point he can. Any longer and you run into taint situations.
Recovery is simple. If given the chance to rest completely- literally doing as little as possible including movement, he will recover at a 1:1 basis. Holding ten minutes will cause ten minutes of pain. Normal exertion, such as walking, moving, and basic manuvers double that time to 2:1, twenty minutes of residual pain for every ten of exertion. If pressed, such as running, fighting, or forced into heavy labor, it becomes 4:1. Yes, for every ten minutes of inducing pain, it takes a literal fourty minutes to recover from it.
At that level, there is a very good certainty of his powers causing him to alter physically. Likely 'evolutions' include loss of external ears, and a mutation of head and torso to be more dolphinlike. Using the abilities of a Nova to capitalize on sonics as a weapon and navigation purpose, his echolocation/sonar would improve dramatically, but eyesight would suffer, as would agility and speed on land.
Codename: Octave
Appearance/Costume: Basic - Since joining Devia, his look has become much more robust. Filling out his near six foot tall frame, he is of slightly heavier than medium build. Muscular, but in a toned way as opposed to a wall of muscle. Typically he keeps his light brown hair crew-cut, mostly for convenience. His face is adorned by a 'Fu-Man-Chu' style mustache of a light red hue, appearing more intense as his skin is rather pale. Not due to any disease, George is not a fan of sunlight, and as such it shows in how pale he has become. His eyes, however, are a striking ice blue. In fact, at first glance some would even think him blind.
Civilian - When out in public, he is rarely fashionable, but acceptable. Favored clothes include tee-shirts with sayings or comic book character insignias on them (which he feels is hilariously blasphemous), jeans or cargo pants, and tennis shoes. It is very rare for him to be outside without a ball cap and sunglasses on, as he has an aversion to bright light. It is not a physical problem, just a preference- George likes it dark. When the weather allows, he enjoys wearing a duster (leather trench coat) that is not a single tailored piece, but rather a patchwork look of many odd shaped pieces of leather. All of it a dark tan, but still giving a haphazard appearance.
Devia - When in full 'regalia' of Octave, however, he dons a different look. Wearing a suit of matching colours, he is typically found in graphite gray. Boots to a visor over his eyes, the color is uniform. Across his chest lie two bandoleers set in an X formation harness, each holding about seven medium pockets. Though not large enough for any real weaponry, they do tend to carry an assortment of smaller items used for tasks or sound creation- like a tuning fork, a small flashlight, leatherman tool, high decibel alarm, etc. For an insignia, he chooses to have a tuning fork of dark blue put on both the biceps of his shirt, and on the upper thigh of his legs.
On his forearms, he prefers to wear a pair of bracers, each equipped with a set of speakers facing forward/the hand. Each can be used for quick deployment of either a 60 decibel burst, or a 40 decibel continuous tone. Over his eyes he wears a visor colored the same as his suit. It provides a HUD for him with basic information about the mission he is on. Connected via WiFi connection to base, it allows for communication with his employers, or mission leaders instantly, even if his null shell is in effect. Equipped with a small camera, George can serve as either espionage or communications officer on a mission quite well.
Sexual Orientation Heterosexual. While not disgusted by the opposite sex, or homosexual dealings, such pairings never held any interest for him, nor offered.
Personality: George takes great pleasure remaining out of the way. He learned early on that by staying out of the limelight, he can observe others as they tend to ignore him. As a younger man in school, he played the role of an outsider. Not the rebel that caused troubles, nor the geek that everybody picked on. In fact, few even took note of him there for the most part. No, he remained off to the side, unobtrusive.
The only times he spoke up, it would shock people. Some because he rarely spoke, but others because he would say things that were not only accurate, but also knowledgeable. For instance, when one student tried to be an a** and hid several important items for the class (tests, the main grade book, etc), he was not unnoticed. When it was most beneficial to him, meaning when the teacher was about to blow and punish the entire class, his hand raised slowly and through a large grin he told the entire tale of how he sat to the side and witnessed the theft.
This is not to say he uses his information for good, however. In fact the only good he has served consistently is himself. Later such observant skills were put to use in the form of blackmail. Though he was less than popular, getting a date for his senior prom was more difficult than it should have been for him. After a few attempts and failures, George managed to witness several occasions where his favored cheerleader was smoking pot. Rather than rat on her, he merely documented it with a small digital camera- complete with dates and times stamped on the photos.
Approaching her after classes one day, he calmly asked her "Do me the privelage of going to prom with me." When he laughed in his face and flatly rejected his offer, he smiled in return. She was of a whole different social status and it would be disastrous for her to be seen with him. Then again, her school status would be harmed much more by the three photos he produced out of a pocket. Her face blanched to an ashen white and as she stammered he could only stand still as stone- his smile no longer warm and kind.
It was then when he felt the first true surge of power that being observant can do. When prom came, he was happy to give her the pictures. His reputation grew by leaps and bounds as he walked into the dance hall with one of the most lovely women in school on his arm. Only after the evening was over did he hand over his evidence- which she promptly tore to shreds. George let her have her moment of relief. When her triumphant look met his cold smile again, she was confused.
Confused until he showed her his camera, and she realized it was digital. With a laugh of evil glee George walked away, letting her wonder how much it will take for her to get those pictures eliminated. She still waits to this day. It has not been too long out of high school, and after prom George never used that set again. It is merely a minor thing anymore, but enough to use as leverage if he needs a favor again.
Cautiously weighing his actions, his smile is not to be trusted. Just because he is introspective doesn't mean he isn't cataloging your actions for a later use. The trouble is, there is no telling if the use will be for good or ill, only that it will be in his benefit.
History: George has spent much of his life unobtrusive. Not sticking to the shadows, for that would draw attention and seem emo. Rather than doing something so blatant, he merely stayed off to the side and watched. This is how he acted through school, and over time he began to play a game in his mind. Guessing how relationships would develop or fall apart became his favorite pastime. Petty squabbles became entertaining, other's drama was his venue.
As one might imagine, even as he kept his entertainment under wraps, his social life was not a very rich one. As a very private person to begin with, that suited George just fine. Truth be told, there was only one activity where he was not content to stay out of the way- swimming. The buoyancy provided by water afforded him a new level of both relaxation and movement. It was as if he was meant to be in the water. Throughout school he won several medals in swim meets, and earned just enough clout with others to be respected- but not enough to be revered. Again, this was a machination of George's. Neither wanting to be bullied like an outcast, nor elevated as a jock, he remained cautiously in social limbo.
This continued on past high school and into college, where his cautious balance was maintained, though at a higher effort. Taking a psychology major, George reveled in starting classes designed to help him understand the minds of others. Unfortunately, the path of his life was about to change.
One day, classes over by noon, he was swimming in an Olympic length pool. Losing his emotional barriers in the freedom of water, George decided to get brave, and go for a dive from the second highest board. While not a picture-perfect dive, it allowed him to go deep into the water and enjoy it for a moment beyond anything he can compare. Resting for a moment on the bottom of the pool, literally 15 feet down, his hearing enacted.
Amplified by the conductive properties of water, he could quickly hear more and more of those in the pool with him. Conversations of the idiotic prissy girls in the shallows were as clear as if he were sitting next to them- not on the other end of the pool. A couple of frat boys' talking about a kegger set up a few days in the future suddenly opened up to him just in time to hear talk of them spiking the drinks with illegal drugs. Their hopes of having an orgy or something. Losers. What caught his attention, however, was the softest sound of all. One of the female professors had come for a bit of a swim, and her heartbeat was barely audible . . . but it was not steady.
The moment all this had come to pass only was a second long, but having taken biology, and felt the pulse of a woman more than once, George knew something was wrong. Angling himself towards the professor, he launched himself like a torpedo towards the surface. Through a few heavy breaths, he asked her if she was alright. Scared, the woman only could shake her head. Pain wracked her chest, and breathing was becoming difficult.
Wasting no time, George raised an alarm, and EMTs made it just in time to save her life. Turns out a few too many fatty meals had caused a heart attack in the Professor, and now she owed her life to him. Unfortunately, this caused him to gain some level of celebrity. While the gratitude of the staff can be a good thing in college, the attention made him uncomfortable. What made him even more uncomfortable was the heightened hearing he now endured. Everything, from the adoring murmurs, to the envious whispers around him came through clear as a bell. Walking out in the street became torture as every noise sounded impossibly loud.
Despite the fact that he is becoming a Nova, George ignored that nightmare as long as he could. After the difficulties of the world with Novas, he was reluctant to join the group centered in the World's eye. Spending his life staying out of the way, now he was thrust into the realm of not only local celebrity, but global. Left with little choice, he tendered his resignation from college and joined the Galvan Nova Academy.
Upon graduation, he was forced to wear earplugs in order to filter his hearing. Still, everything was so uncomfortably loud . . . Then came the Devia Corp. Specializing in tech designed by Novas, for Novas, it seemed the best place to go and find relief from the pain. While applying for the tech, and hoping to find a perfect solution, conversations popped up. While unwilling to say much, it was eventually worked out of him that George was disillusioned with both the hope and 'goody-two-shoes' outlook of Team Tomorrow, as well as the militant separatism of Admon Lemuelz or Adriana Estacado. George just wanted a comfortable life looking out for the only person he ever truly cared about. Himself.
Only after all this was divulged did he finally find what he wanted- an audible limiter. It was perfect! Various levels of control, implantable so it can't be lost or require a battery replacement, everything was exactly as if it were tailor made to his desires. All, that is, except the cost. As it was not only newer tech, but designed for a Nova, it was hideously expensive. Crestfallen, George sighed that he might have to see if there is a market for Nova kidneys, as that is the only way he could afford what he needs. Of course, He couldn't know that he wasn't the only hearing-enhanced Nova in the building.
Before he even could leave the room, George heard the receptionist's keyboard begin to clack at an amazing speed. Not really paying attention to it, he began to shuffle away. To his surprise, the woman actually called for him- softly. "Excuse me, Mr. Crux? You are requested to see Ms. Bianca. She would like to discuss your needs."
George started to argue, but stopped himself quickly. The woman didn't call for him with a normal tone, showing she was informed not to be loud. From her vantage point, she couldn't have seen what he was looking up. Also, somebody called for him? Not knowing anybody in the building, it intrigued him that somebody called for him by name. Taking the cautiously quieted directions, he came face to face with the woman that summoned him.
Similar to a mafia movie, George was given an offer he couldn't refuse. the implant, it's controls, and a job. On the lookout for those willing to put their Nova abilities to her banner, rather than the extremes of Team Tomorrow or Admon, Ms. Bianca minced no words in her offer. His skills in return for what the implant and fealty. It didn't take him long to accept.
Now a member of Devia, George revels in the fact that few even pay him any mind except to be cautious around him. Nobody knows what to expect from Devia, or George . . . and he likes it that way.
Sample Roleplay: George sat nonchalantly in a Starbucks. Sipping the flavor of the week, he sighs and wonders just where a person might get 'coffee' flavored coffee anymore. Still, that is just a passing thought. Dressed in casual attire, his faded X-Men shirt always brings a sardonic smile to his face as he realizes the prophetic nature of their comic in the new world rife with Novas. Still, there is no Xavier institute. No high-moraled people that championed the Novas when they were needed.
Sure, Team Tomorrow is doing their best. Working round the clock to improve Novas and 'help the world'. Unfortunately, they are a day late and a dollar short. Taking a sip of his drink, George smiles softly at the thought of some idiots in tights going around like '50s heroes and saying cheesy things. On the 'brotherhood' side, there is Admon. What a putz. Without any subtlety or finesse, he changed the world just like Hitler. Now, because he got his leaves in a wad, the world is on a teetering balance.
Still, that is part of what brought him here. Slow in this time of day, the dead of the afternoon, this particular part of town resides a few power brokers, but more importantly, there are a few mob bosses. Nothing like gathering dirt on those with enough power to carve life out in their own plans . . . With a touch on his palm, George disables the limiter in his ears, and for a moment he swoons as a flood of sound approaches his senses.
Still, it is worth it as he smiles and regains himself in time to hear about the underworld's comings and goings. Carefully typing on a special laptop, he takes intricate notes on times, dates, names, and numbers that in the right timing can make all the difference against a powerful bunch of men. "Another file for my library . . . welcome to my dominion, Don Vito." Naturally, it was too soft for anybody but him to hear, but in his enhanced ears, it is almost a scream of joy.
Favorite Food: Cheesecake
Changed to a similar profile form, expanded the physical description and clarified George's look, and gave a basis for overuse of his power. If anything is overdone, please let me know and it can be easily adjusted.
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2007 3:12 pm
*pushes a pile of cookies toward Pansa* I know it's rough...but I kept running into dead ends...be brutal >.<
Gaia Name:Electric Kool-Aid Name:Elaina ("Laina" to her family) Cybil Thanati Age:20 Alignment:Team Tomorrow Special Abilities: Elaina's mutation allows her to perform painless dislocation of almost all of her joints. She is limited by her muscular structure, organ location, and joint location. For instance, she can't compress her rib cage (there are no joints in the sides and it'd endanger her heart), and if she dislocates her elbow, dislocating her fingers and wrists would be much more difficult. however is she starts with her fingers and works up the arm it is possible. This gives her increased flexibility and contortion, which in turn can let her get into small and awkward spaces. Prolonged periods of dislocation results in inflammation. She is more susceptible to long term damage while her joints are out of place. Codename:Askew Costume: Because of the nature of her ability, her costume is similar to skiing GS suits, or unitards (like a full body leotard). This allows her to use the full extent of her flexibility. Her costume is patterned in red and blue for Team Tomorrow colors, but bears resemblance to Harlequin patterning, being comprised mostly of adjacent diamonds of alternating color. Appearance:Elaina has the build of a gymnast, mostly because her ability requires her to maintain that body type. She keeps her black hair very short (about an inch long) because it's a pain to be in small areas and suffocate on your own hair. Her hair is very curly due to her Greek heritage. She has gentle brown eyes in an olive toned face, which is complimented by sharp features like those you typically see on pixies in old picture books. Her vision is not the best and so Elaina wears thin framed, rectangular glasses most of the time, and occasionally contacts. Elaina is also almost embarrassingly slight of frame, this fact combined with her short hair have resulted in a very androgynous look, much to her chagrin. When in public, as it'd be a bit strange to walk around in a GS suit all the time, she dresses for comfort as opposed to style. She is at home in a t-shirt and jeans, and frequently wears some of Samuel's old clothing, even though some of it has hole in strange places. Sexual Orientation:Heterosexual Personality:Elaina is optimistic nearly to the point of naivety. She feels sad when she sees nova's abusing their abilities, she sees herself as an adapted human rather than a separate species. She worries about Sam working for Devia Corp. but has faith that he'll make the right choices. She gets frustrated easily and hates to feel like she isn't useful. She doesn't usually get really angry, but if she does, she generally stops speaking and regresses into herself. When she's happy, her wit is fast and she has a strange sarcastic sense of humor, compared to the rest of her very open and gentle demeanor. She is fairly submissive and takes criticism easily. Elaina is soft spoken and almost rabbit like in that she can be skittish and shy around new people, but once she gets to know someone she has their complete trust. History:Elaina's mutation came to fruition when she was fifteen, five years after Samuel's first displays. Her transformation was not as traumatic as Sam's: she was not hospitalized, and her parents were more relaxed and prepared.
It happened by accident at first, she'd been sliding down the banister of her family's suburban home when she lost her balance and tumbled unceremoniously down the stairs. Her mother, hearing her shout of surprise, had found Elaina in a contorted heap at the base of the stairs. Elaina was in no serious pain and was in the process of getting up and dusting herself off when she realized that her left shoulder didn't feel quite right.
"Laina! Doesn't that hurt?!" her mother had asked in a quiet horrified voice, pointing a shaking finger at Elaina's shoulder. Elaina shrugged her shoulders. One shoulder rather, as her left one remained stationary. Her mother gave her a strange look and helped her press the bones back into place. "That would've made a grown man cry like a baby..." her mother had whispered to herself. Elaina felt a little sick to her stomach and completely forgot why she'd come downstairs.
Shivering a bit, she returned to her room, sitting on the bed and hugging her knees. Her mind flashed to when she was ten, hearing Sam scream, she remembered blood, and sirens, and later scars. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and experimentally stretched her forefinger out and backwards. There was a soft "pop!" and her finger and when she opened her eyes the finger jutted out from her hand at a sickening angle.
Fighting down the urge to scream, Elaina used her other hand to realign the bones, before curling up in a ball on the bed. She expected that at any moment, her internal structure would revolt and explode from her body like Sam's had.
When she'd calmed down a bit, she called Sam at his college. It was then (during a very long conversation) that she learned about Galvan and realized that it was unlikely for her body to react like Sam's had.
After a discussion with her parent, Elaina was enrolled in the Galvan Academy, where with training she began to understand her ability and better control it. After graduating she joined Team Tomorrow, hoping to show that novas can be useful, despite the few bad apples.
She is in her sophomore year of college now, and works at her father's restaurant as a waitress.
Sample Roleplay:Elaina made her way down the white carpeted stairs to the equally white foyer. She glanced down at her digital watch, silently flashing 6:02. She reached for the doorknob, but before she could turn it, she heard a bustling from the kitchen. Pots being moved, a pan set on the stove, and a voice.
"Laina! You have not eaten yet!" Her mother came rushing from the kitchen.
"I know Ma, I was going to make eggs at work." Elaina said in a half whine.
"Why wait? You are too skinny." her mother put in simply.
Elaina sighed. There was no way out of it. It was either eat now, or make the subway ride weighted with guilt, and besides, her mother really was a marvelous cook. She nodded and took her hand of the doorknob. Tension dissipated from the air as though her hand had been on the trigger of a gun and now she put the safety back on.
"Right Ma. What's for breakfast?" she said in a conciliatory tone. "I am late you know." she added as a last ditch effort.
Her mother's face broke into a huge smile. "Nice try."
Half an hour later, sitting in the rocking air conditioned comfort of the subway train, Elaina thought her stomach might burst. She hadn't realized that (if forced) she could eat four eggs, potatoes, toast and bacon all in one sitting. She made a mental note: Don't eat lunch.
She got off the subway a block from the restaurant. Elaina checked her watch again. 6:47. Grimacing, she walked briskly over the next block to the restaurant. Pulling on the door, it was already unlocked. the lights were on too. She hurried through the door. "Hi! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" she called as she took her coat off.
"Elaina, where have you been!?" her father's voice materialized from the little office.
"Blame your wife." she said simply as she pulled an apron over her clothing.
"My fry cook called in sick. Do you mind Laina?"
"That'll be fine, but I have a class at 10:30." she answered, moving through the swinging doors to the kitchen. (my favorite movie is Easy Rider...i think)
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2007 4:22 pm
@Talon: -You imply that he can make mild sounds (in the sonar bit) am I misreading that? Is he actually making the sound or is something else making the sound and he's then taking it and using it? I.E. Can his vocal cords make a bat squeak? -I don't like that you're not giving his projection, amplification or nullification powers a drawback. They should have one. He should only be able to project so much -- even in a noisy environment -- before he stops being able to, or faints or something, same with the others. Sent you a PM about a bit of this.
@EKA: Ya'know, it worries me when people say things like that... >.> *Gets some milk for the cookies* -Hm. Intriguing power. So does she have some alternative support system that keeps her from bein' all floppy? How does she move about like this? Can she dislocate her spine or would that result in spinal injury/paralysis? What happens if one of her bones is broken? Can she dislocate often or do her bones have a recovery period before they can dislocate again? Is it painful? Can she dislocate her fingers after he elbow, does it take longer or what? -Little more on the costume and tell us where the TT logo is located. -Erm. Last I heard your girl and Yoder's were no longer related -- might want to talk that over with him. Or fill me in more. If they're not you'll need to remove him from your profile. -How is she optimistic? How is she in relationships? More personality. =] -Again with the Sam thing -- talk that out and let me know what's going on. I'm not getting into the History till then 'cos there's not much point. Though I do want more information about her feelings regarding the world events regardless.
*Nods* S'all for now.
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