DeLarge

The Blank Magnus had just punched flew four or five feet across the lobby, landed hard and skidded even further. Magnus recoiled in shock, staring at his clenched fist - he knew he hadn't thrown the punch with much more force than usual, but the uniform must have seriously amplified his physical strength to allow him to do that. The second Blank took the shock as an opportunity to rush him. This one had a large Bowie knife in his hand, and he looked like he knew how to use it. Magnus only just managed to back out of the way as the knife sliced the air where his stomach had been just a second ago, but the Blank was quick and changed his movement into a stabbing motion, the blade of the knife grazing Magnus' uniform as he dodged again. [b]"Get away from him!"[/b] came a surprisingly strident voice, and the Blank turned to see Echo, her chest puffed out, just as she let out a powerful scream. Magnus had to block his ears to stop his eardrums from rupturing, but the Blank wasn't so quick - Magnus saw spots of blood appear on his mask, right where his ears should have been, and as he screamed and reached up to grab them, he was hurled across the lobby, smashing through one of the teller windows and slamming into the wall. He hit the floor with a thud, and Magnus knew he would be unconscious. [b]"You stupid little *****!"[/b] the third Blank yelled, rushing towards Echo. Magnus managed to turn, his ears still ringing, and thrust a hand out. Echo skidded a few feet backwards without moving her own body at all, and the Blank hit the ground hard, skidding a few feet across the polished stone. [b]"How did you do that?"[/b] asked Echo. [b]"I guess Geist put metal filaments in your uniform too. Close one,"[/b] he said with a broad smile, just as he felt a rush of heat fly past the back of his head. He ducked and turned in one swift motion, and saw that the first Blank, the one Echo had put down with her first sonic boom, was on his feet, his hand outstretched. Magnus could smell the air, and it crackled with energy. It took him a second to realise, but as the Blank pulled his hand back, this time aiming towards Echo, he understood, and leapt towards Echo, tackling her to the floor as a bolt of white-hot lightning crackled through the space they had occupied just a split second ago. [b]"He's a super,"[/b] gasped Magnus, getting to his knees after a quick check to make sure Echo wasn't hurt, [b]"The leader's a ******* super..."[/b] He stood up to face the leader, who now had his hands by his sides, although Magnus could see the electricity coursing around his fingertips. [b]"You finally worked it out, huh?"[/b] snarled the white-masked man, [b]"You seem pretty good with your ability, but you're just a kid. You lack focus, and you haven't worked out what these abilities mean yet." "Oh yeah?"[/b] replied Magnus, [b]"And what's that?"[/b] The Blank reached up and pulled his mask off, revealing a grizzled, darkly-tanned face, belonging to a man in his mid-forties, a mane of scruffy brown hair hanging around his face, and a pair of electric-blue eyes nestled in the deep folds of his face. [b]"That we're unstoppable,"[/b] he replied, [b]"We're better than human beings, and there's nothing they can do to stop us."[/b] Magnus took a step forwards, his hands behind his back. Feeling the magnetic field in the room, he felt for any metal lying around on the floor, and eventually latching on to the precise piece he needed. [b]"We're the next stage of evolution, man,"[/b] the Blank said, raising his hand and letting the electricity crackle around his fingers, [b]"We're gods." "Well, you might be right about that,"[/b] replied Magnus, [b]"But you sort of forgot one thing." "Oh yeah? And what's that?" "'Gods' don't stand around bragging, giving their opponents time to do something like this."[/b] He flicked his hand toward the man, and the Bowie knife that the Blank had dropped earlier flew through the air and slammed into the leader's neck. He dropped to the floor, a cascade of blood pouring down his front. Magnus took a few steps towards the leader, knelt down over him as he gasped through ragged breaths and mouthfuls of blood and looked into his eyes. [b]"You were right,"[/b] he whispered coldly, [b]"We are the next stage of evolution. But using that power to rob banks and get rich? You're a selfish moron, and you deserve to die."[/b] He stood up, seeing the fear in the man's eyes, and with another flick of his hand, the knife twisted in his neck, and the man let out his final, gasping breath. Magnus, shook his head, before going over to Echo, who had just managed to get back up to her knees. He dropped to his, and put his arm around her. [b]"Everything ok?"[/b] he asked. [b]"You...you killed him?"[/b] she stammered. [b]"I had to. He would have killed both of us if I'd given him the chance. But I'm sorry I had to do it in front of you,"[/b] he replied, squeezing her shoulder. She nodded slowly, and rested her head on his shoulder, a few tears dropping from her eyes onto his jacket. He held this position for a couple of minutes, feeling her deep breathing, and then began to stand up. [b]"Come on,"[/b] he said, [b]"We should find the hostages and then see if any of the others need any help."[/b] She nodded and he helped her up, guiding her away from the leader's body and towards the back rooms where the hostages were.

The huge coils clanked to the ground as Magnus dropped them, the previously-aggressive machines now inert. He looked up, just in time, as one of the remaining cannons swivelled to face him and a few of the other members of the team, Flare and Echo amongst them, and flipped his hand up. The coils leapt up, snaking into position between the group and the cannon, blocking the barrage of bullets as the cannon fired, and with a second flick of his hand, Magnus sent the coils like twin serpents towards the cannon, tearing it from the ceiling and smashing it to the ground. [b]"**** this,"[/b] snarled Magnus, and he clenched his fists in front of him, feeling the magnetic fields in the room, his ability to sense them somehow amplified by his new uniform. He felt the energies swirling around him, and he grabbed on to the field and pulled it towards him. He felt a field of magnetic energy gather around him, and he was vaguely able to see his team-mates staring in disbelief. The coils began to stir, as did much of the debris from the cannons, and once he felt the energy reach it's apex, he concentrated it outwards, sending an electro-magnetic pulse through the room. Chaos. Machines that were just starting up, about to attack them, failed, sparks exploding from them as they dropped to the floor. Similarly, all the lights in the room went out, and from the cry of shock that came from behind Magnus, so did Flare's new visor. He would have to apologise for that later. As the emergency power began to kick in, the lights flickering back into life, Magnus dropped to one knee, unable to hold himself up through sheer exhaustion. He'd been able to generate an electro-magnetic pulse before, but only ever on a much smaller scale, knocking out cellphones at most. He'd never been able to knock out all the electronics in a room, let alone one this size, before. He felt vaguely aware of the people around him, his new team-mates checking to see if he was ok, technicians coming in to fix the electronics he'd disabled, and some kind of announcement over the training room's PA system, but it all felt as though it were underwater, or down a long tunnel, somehow distant and muffled. He could feel himself blacking out, but he was unconscious before he hit the ground. --- He woke, opening his eyes slowly, to a harsh neon striplight and a young woman's face looking down at him. She was incredibly attractive, with pale skin and hair that was so red it was almost unnatural. Her green eyes flicked between Slate's two eyes, and she occasionally shone a light over them. [b]"Good morning, sleepyhead,"[/b] she said with a smile that revealed perfectly straight, pearly-white teeth, [b]"That was some impressive display you put on back there."[/b] [b]"Where am I?"[/b] asked Slate, forcing himself up into a seated position, before realising the answer to his own question - he was clearly in some kind of medical centre, and the redhead was obviously a doctor. He shook his head, and reconsidered his question. [b]"I mean...how long was I out?"[/b] he asked, and she smiled, his train of thought perfectly obvious. [b]"Just an hour. You pushed yourself to breaking point, you're lucky you didn't do yourself permanent damage,"[/b] she replied, [b]"But on the plus side, besides not knowing your own limits, you're pretty much a perfect physical specimen. Blood pressure's a little high, but whose isn't, right?"[/b] Slate nodded, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. He looked down and silently thanked whoever had brought him here for not dressing him in one of those ridiculous hospital gowns, instead simply removing the jacket of his uniform and placing it on a chair next to the gurney he was on. [b]"Glad you managed to retain some dignity?"[/b] the doctor asked, seeing his reactions, [b]"Don't worry, nothing serious enough for them to risk ruining one of these fetching uniforms for."[/b] Slate smiled, and held his hand out. [b]"Jacob Slate,"[/b] he said, [b]"But I'm sure you already know that, right?"[/b] She laughed, a wonderful, hearty sound that exploded outwards, and shook his hand. [b]"Elena Ambrose,"[/b] she replied, [b]"But I suppose, for posterity's sake, I should introduce myself as Dr. Ambrose."[/b] [b]"Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Elena Ambrose,"[/b] Slate replied with a smile. She seemed...different to the other personnel he'd encountered, and he wasn't sure whether it was the mild concussion he'd presumably suffered, but she had one of those faces he felt he could trust instantly. [b]"Nice to see you've met the good doctor, Mr Slate,"[/b] said Welsh as he burst into the ward, [b]"The way you're going, you'll be seeing a lot more of her."[/b] Slate turned to face him, about to make a joke and try brushing him off, but when he locked eyes with Welsh, he saw something in them: an anger, a fury that he hadn't seen before, and every fibre of his being never wanted to see it again. [b]"You pushed yourself too far in there, Slate,"[/b] he said, matter-of-factly, as he dismissed Dr. Ambrose with a wave of his hand, [b]"Maybe I overestimated your leadership qualities."[/b] [b]"Whatever,"[/b] replied Slate, making sure not to meet Welsh's eyes again, [b]"You attacked us with everything you had, I responded in kind. If you put me in that situation again, I wouldn't do a single thing differently. Well, maybe I'd have given you the finger as I went down, but that's about it."[/b] He braced himself for the fury of Welsh's response, but instead of anger, he heard something entirely unexpected. Laughter. Welsh was laughing, his head thrown back. [b]"Excellent!"[/b] he said, beaming, [b]"Those are exactly the qualities we chose you for - a willingness to push yourself to your limits and beyond, you made a choice you don't regret, and you don't give a **** about what I think. The perfect leader."[/b] [b]"So glad you approve,"[/b] replied Slate, his words dripping with sarcasm. [b]"Get yourself ready, you're on the plane to New York in half an hour. Don't let me down, Slate,"[/b] Welsh said with a smirk, then left the medical centre swiftly. Slate sighed and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, swinging it on as he went. --- The plane was a military-style aircraft, with a large rear section where they all sat, strapped into their harnesses on two parallel benches, and definitely not comfortable. They were jostled as the plane trundled over the runway, and they were subjected to bone-rattling turbulence as they took off. Magnus twisted round and looked out of the window placed between himself and Vegas, intrigued to see some of the surroundings of the place they were essentially imprisoned. But he was disappointed. They were clearly already too high to see anything, all he saw around him were clouds and blue sky. He sighed, until he saw the runway come back into view - it wasn't too far away, maybe a few hundred yards, and suddenly he saw the headquarters in all their glory. They were imprisoned in a real, honest-to-goodness [i]skybase[/i]. [b]"What the..."[/b] he murmured, transfixed by the sight in front of him. He turned as the base dropped out of view, a few of the others in the same position as him, amazed by the discovery of their location, and sat, chewing the thoughts over in his head. [i]The perfect surveillance station...[/i] he thought, [i]And the perfect prison. We've got no hope of escape unless we can get hold of transport, and that won't be easy. Looks like we're stuck, for the time being anyway...[/i] He ran through more thoughts of a similar tone over the next twenty minutes, until he heard a crackly, distorted voice come over the tannoy, the voice of the pilot. [b]"Reaching destination in three minutes, switching to stealth mode. Troops are advised to move towards the rear of the craft to disembark,"[/b] he said, smooth as any commercial airline pilot. The group began to unstrap themselves from their harnesses and move towards the back of the plane, where the floor began to lower. Slate stood at the opening, looking down at the dark concrete roof of a large building, just a few feet below them. He looked back at the team, resplendent in their bizarre uniforms, and nodded to them, receiving a number of nods back. He turned back to the opening and leapt out, dropping the three or four feet to the roof of the Federal Reserve Bank building, crouching as he landed. The others dropped around him, some losing their balance and pushing forward into combat rolls, others simply landing and continuing to walk. [b]"Right, intel tells us that there are twelve Blanks inside the building, one on every other floor down to the vault, where there are three guys attempting to break it,"[/b] said Magnus, immediately taking on his newfound role with vigour, [b]"They've disabled all alarms, so chances are they won't have any idea we're coming, but they're also heavily armed, so exercise caution when engaging them. Martian, Critter and Night Terror, you need to accompany Warp down to the vault, where I need detailed reconaissance about the team down there, I'm talking weapons, equipment, how far they are through the vault door. If they are vulnerable and you see an opportunity, take them out. If you don't see one then report back to me and await further instructions. The rest of us will divide into teams - Flare and Vegas take the top floors, Phoenix and Brawler take the middle floors and Echo, you're with me on the bottom floors, including the lobby. Take out any hostiles and ensure the safety of any hostages. Keep in radio contact at all times, but exercise reasonable restraint, Vegas, I'm looking at you."[/b] [b]"Yes, bossman!"[/b] replied Vegas with a mock salute. [b]"And if anyone calls me 'bossman' again, I [i]will[/i] kill them. Now go,"[/b] he ordered, pointing towards the various entrances around the roof. The teams broke off, running in different directions, and Magnus approached Echo. [b]"You ready?"[/b] he asked, and she replied with an anxious nod, [b]"Don't worry, we're not going to kill anybody. Not until we have to. Just stick with me and use those vocal chords on anyone with a gun, and we'll be just fine, ok?"[/b] She nodded again, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. Then he took a deep breath and ventured into the dark stairwell of the building, Echo following close behind. --- OOC: You all know what you're doing. All you need to know about the Blanks is that they're your bog-standard armed gang of bank robbers, and they all wear blank white masks over their faces, hence the name. Enjoy!

Seems like I should show my face to the world. [attachment=15208:beard and chicken.jpg] The highest level of epic beardage I have been able to reach. Plus chickenhat. [attachment=15207:1 (30).jpg] On stage, looking slightly more like I can take care of myself.

Yes, at the moment, posting is a free-for-all. Once a couple more people post, I'll wrap things up in the training room and get us out on our first mission.

[b]Name:[/b] Alexis LeCrosse [b]Age:[/b] 29 [b]Nationality:[/b] French [b]Physical Description:[/b] LeCrosse is a tall, well-built man of around 6 feet tall and 165lbs. His hair is dark brown and relatively short, although it tends to stick up no matter what he does with it, and his eyes are a shocking crystal blue. He has a scruffy beard and a long, thin scar running from his hairline, through his right eyebrow and across his right eye, and down to his cheekbone. This scar was from a Death Eater who attacked him with a cursed knife, causing an injury no charm could heal. In terms of dress, LeCrosse tends to wear a black t-shirt with a grey hoodie over it and a black jacket over that. He has a pair of fingerless gloves which he very rarely removes, for reasons unknown to anyone but him. Usually, he wears a pair of dark blue jeans and a scuffed pair of black boots. The only concession he makes to his magical past in terms of dress is a silver pendant of a hawk in a silver circle, which he wears on a thin black leather thong around his neck. This serves no magical purpose other than to remind him of the people he has lost; his beloved sister gave him the pendant a few days before she was murdered by Death Eaters. In practical terms he keeps his wand in an inside pocket of his jacket, with the handle poking out so he can grab it at a moment's notice. [b]Personality:[/b] LeCrosse has seen a lot of death in his life - he has been in many battles, he has witnessed the aftermath of others, he has even taken lives himself. In a way, he has become desensitized to it, and as such he has developed a dark sense of humour. He also finds he talks far too much, whether it is to his brothers-in-arms or even to his enemies, usually just vocalising his inner monologue. Another side effect of his prolonged exposure to death and violence is that he has become ruthless and merciless towards the Death Eaters, having no qualms injuring or even killing them in combat. He knows that this side of him has no place in a world free of darkness, and realises that there is no place for a man like him once the war is over. [b]Wand Description:[/b] Birch, 12 inches, dragon heartstring, fairly rigid. Made from fairly dark birchwood, LeCrosse's wand has an intricately-carved handle for better grip, complete with a smaller version of the circled hawk of his pendant set into the base. He was told when it selected him that it was especially good for Charms work, although it would work almost as well for duelling. [b]Skills:[/b] LeCrosse is, essentially, the Auror equivalent of a forensics expert. He tends to use Charms to inspect scenes of magical crimes and battles and pick up evidence that others have missed. He combines Charm work with a keen eye for detail to make himself invaluable in this sense. While this is his forte, he is also a skilled dueller and an asset in a combat situation. [b]Writing Sample: "You gave me a good run for my money,"[/b] the Frenchman said, crouching amongst the dirt and dead leaves of the forest floor, [b]"Better than most Death Eaters, that's for sure."[/b] He faced a black-cloaked man, his hood down, revealing his bloodied and bruised face, lashed to a tree with golden rope of some kind. His robes were torn and scorched, and his wand lay on the floor a few feet from him, now just a useless piece of wood. [b]"I've seen a lot of destruction at the hands of your people,"[/b] he continued, [b]"A lot of death. I've been to the sites of great battles - the Ministry of Magic, Edinburgh, and countless IMU strongholds that you've attacked, and there is something about death. Even before you begin to pick apart the spells and curses used to kill people, before you even get a glimpse of the magic that was used at one of those battles, you can sense the death. You can smell it, there is an unmistakable stench that death carries with it. But then, you'd know all about that, of course."[/b] He stood up, took a few steps towards the Death Eater, stooped and picked up his wand. [b]"What have we got here? Elm, unicorn tail hair core, 11 inches? Good wand for curses,"[/b] he drew his own wand, a slightly longer, thinner affair, and held the two end to end, looking the Death Eater in the eye as he spoke his enchantment. [b]"[i]Prior incantato![/i]"[/b] he boomed, and a smoky image appeared above the point where the two wands met, a tall man in a hooded cloak with a smaller, weaker man kneeling before him, a thrust of the cloaked man's wand and a burst of green light. The kneeling man slumped to the floor, and the image dissipated. [b]"The Killing Curse,"[/b] murmured the Frenchman, [b]"On an innocent Muggle, no less. You have no honour."[/b] He dropped the wand, took a few steps back, aimed his wand at the one lying on the floor and shouted: [b]"[i]Reducto![/i]"[/b] A beam of light shot out of his wand, and smashed the Death Eater's into splinters as it struck, leaving a small, smoking crater on the ground where it had previously lain. The Death Eater stared at the crater, his chest heaving and his eyes blazing with rage, but he was unable to talk. [b]"No honour at all,"[/b] the Frenchman said, [b]"But it is unfortunate for you..."[/b] He walked up to the tree and looked directly into the Death Eater's eyes, their faces close now. [b]"...that I don't either."[/b] He turned and began to walk away. The Death Eater began to struggle, his bonds now straining to hold him, his rage providing him with extra strength. The Frenchman stopped, a few feet in front of his captive, then turned and yelled: [b]"[i]Petrificus Totalus![/i]"[/b] The curse struck the Death Eater, and his limbs snapped together, and the Frenchman aimed his wand once more, for one final charm. [b]"[i]Evanesco![/i]"[/b] he said coldly, and the Death Eater began to disappear from sight. Not completely, his form could still be seen as a ripple in mid-air when he moved, but he was reasonably well-hidden. Plus, in this dense woodland, it was unlikely that anyone would ever find the lone warrior. [b]"Hope you're not too hungry,"[/b] muttered the Frenchman as he walked into the undergrowth. ([i]Evanesco[/i] is the Invisibility Charm - it is used in the books but an incantation is never given, so I used the Latin translator to find an equivalent. Hope this is ok!)

Slate stepped out of the meeting room, shaking a little as the adrenaline from his encounter with Welsh coursed through his veins. He liked to think he didn't scare easily, but something about Welsh terrified him. He rested against the wall, taking a few deep breaths as various soldiers marched past, clad in heavy-looking armour and carrying futuristic-looking rifles, shooting him dirty looks as they passed. He tried to return them, but he was still shaky from the events that had just occurred in the meeting room, and they came off more as nervous than angry. Shaking his head, he took off down the corridor, eventually finding a door with his name on a removable plaque. [i]I wonder how many other people have had their names on this door...[/i], he pondered, before pushing it open, revealing a minimally-decorated room, dark blue carpet and cream walls. He took a few steps in, saw the bed, armchair and desk, a fridge underneath the desk and a door set into the wall, presumably to the ensuite bathroom. It smelt like a hotel room, a mingling scent of cleaning products and the odours of the previous occupants, but Slate didn't mind; he'd stayed in enough cheap hotel rooms in his time, one more was no problem. He dropped the file and his uniform on the bed, and yanked open the fridge. There was a basic supply of milk, juice and some slabs of packaged meat, but most importantly a dozen bottles of ice-cold beer inside. He smiled and grabbed one, popping the cap off and taking a long drink. [b]"At least they got one thing right,"[/b] he sighed as he pulled it away from his lips and placing the bottle down on the desk. He sat on the edge of the bed and flipped open the file, finding a bundle of pictures of him, sometimes doing nothing incriminating, sometimes using his ability. He threw them onto the desk, slightly unnerved by the amount of intel they had on him, and began reading the pages of hand-written notes about the early stages of his ability, and moving on to neatly-typed pages about possible future application of it, and the capabilities of his uniform. [b]"Subject's uniform contains metal filaments which, when combined with his ability wll enable him to utilise above-normal physical strength and durability, and it is possible that in future Subject will be able to control his ability in order to levitate himself,"[/b] he read aloud, [b]"Levitation? They think I'll be able to fly?"[/b] He shook his head and took another swig of beer, before spying the shower in the bathroom and realising how much he needed one. After possibly the longest shower of his life, Slate pulled open the wardrobe to find dozens of garments of exactly the kind he normally wore: long-sleeved shirts, some plain, some checked, tank-tops in black, grey and red, dark jeans and three pairs of boots. [b]"Now this is just plain creepy,"[/b] he murmured as he grabbed a red tank-top, a pair of black jeans and one of the pairs of boots from the wardrobe and pulled them on. Exactly the right sizes, he thought, Of course. He looked at his uniform for a moment, before shaking his head and wandering out of the room, heading down the corridor. He passed Addley's room and saw him sitting on his bed, reading through his files. He had to admit, even though it wasn't the best situation, he found himself liking Addley; he was headstrong and a little aggressive, but he seemed like his head was screwed on right. A few minutes later the two of them were heading down the corridor towards the kitchen, where there was a significant amount of noise. Addley ran on ahead of Slate, who rolled his eyes and headed in behind him, only to be greeted by the sight of a half-naked Tyler, surrounded by a few of the others from the group. Cody was stirring something that smelt delicious in a large pot on the stove, accompanied by Autumn and another girl whose name Slate didn't know. [b]"Hey, bossman!" [/b]shouted Tyler,[b] "Care to join us?" "Bossman?"[/b] muttered Slate, shaking his head and moving over to the group gathered around the stove, [b]"I wondered how long it would be before you took your shirt off, Tyler." "Actually, it's 'Vegas' now, apparently. We also have Phoenix, Flare, Night Terror, and over there by the stove are Echo, Critter and Martian. What hilarious names did you end up with?" "I'm Warp,"[/b] said Addley, [b]"And the bossman over there is Magnus." "Please stop calling me bossman,"[/b] sighed Slate, [b]"And Magnus is no better. My name's Slate, just call me that, at least when we're here." "Fine, fine,"[/b] said Tyler, hopping off his chair, [b]"So what was it you stayed behind to talk to Welsh about?" "Oh...nothing. Nothing,"[/b] Slate replied, before turning to Cody, [b]"That looks fantastic, Cody. I hope you've made enough for everybody, I'm starving." "That beer probably won't help that," [/b]said the other girl, 'Martian', who continued after she saw the confused look on Slate's face, [b]"I'm Esfir, nice to meet you." "Nice to meet you too, Esfir,"[/b] replied Slate, putting the beer in his hand down, slightly guilty. [b]"So, what about this situation we've gotten ourselves into, huh?"[/b] said Tyler, clearly someone who hated silence, [b]"Pretty strange, right?" "Yeah, it's kinda weird,"[/b] replied Autumn, [b]"I mean, it makes sense that they'd use us. Plus, I guess once we're done, if they let us go then it'll be fine, right?" "I'll be honest,"[/b] said Slate, [b]"I don't think it's going to be that easy." "Come again?"[/b] asked Addley. [b]"They've put a lot of effort into getting us here. Companies like this, they're all about money - I don't think they'd waste all the money they've put into getting us this far by just letting us go once we're done." "You don't think they're going to let us go? They're gonna keep us here even after we've done what they needed us to?" "I don't think they're going to keep us here either. I think that once we're done, they're going to kill us regardless. That way, no financial compensation which, for ten people, would add up to a lot of money, and no need to keep spending money to keep us here. They've already convinced our friends and families that we're national criminals, so there's nothing stopping them from just killing us. Unfortunately, as a group, we're pretty expendable." "They're just going to...do away with us?"[/b] mumbled Autumn. [b]"Honestly, we might as well just be called...I don't know...the Throwaways or something. We're definitely not a permanent fixture here,"[/b] said Slate, [b]"I'm sorry, but it's the only outcome I can see." "Can we stop them?"[/b] asked Derek, [b]"Is there any way we can persuade them not to?" "These people only understand one method of persuasion,"[/b] said Slate, [b]"So we just have to take our time, be careful, and we can do something. I'm not sure what yet, but we'll think of something."[/b] By the time Slate had finished saying this, Cody had begun passing out bowls of hot beef stew, and the group began to eat in relative silence. [i]That was kind of a downer[/i], thought Slate, savouring each mouthful of the stew, [i]But better they know what's going on now than when it actually happens...[/i] --- The following morning, the group had assembled in the training area, clad in their uniforms and finally free of their power inhibitors, which had been removed by a weaselly-looking man in a white lab coat as they came in. There were, however, dozens of armed guards standing around the training area, and it had been made very clear that any attempt at escape or assault would end messily. Slate, for one, was glad to be free of the power inhibitors. It comforted him to be able to feel magnetic fields again, and he was itching to get into training. Some of the others looked a little nervous, but a few were clearly in a similar state to him, happy to be fully-equipped with their abilities once more. [b]"Welcome to the Training Room," [/b]boomed a disembodied voice, and a large holographic screen blinked into life in mid-air, a few feet above them and six feet or so in front of them, showing Welsh sitting in his leather reclining office chair at his desk,[b] "And your first team training session. You will be faced with various obstacles and threats, and you will be required to work as a team, and utilise your abilities to their fullest extents, in order to complete your training. I'd say good luck, but at least one of you really doesn't need it."[/b] The screen blinked out of existence, and the lights in the Training Room dimmed in anticipation of the training session. [b] "Here we go,"[/b] murmured Slate, flexing his muscles. --- OOC: Alright, welcome to the first training session. You have pretty free reign in this section of the RP, feel free to use other characters in your posts as long as you do them justice, work as a team and remember; the Training Room knows how to improvise, so you will have to as well!

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"]Thanks for your queries, everyone, I'll try and answer them as best I can. Lilt, your position on the team is entirely up to you. I would choose something appropriate to your abilities, so likely something recon-based rather than directly combat-based. As for your movement problem, the Geist-issued uniform doesn't stop you from having rocket boosters. I'm sure the company can put some kind of rocket pack together, like a backpack that has a couple of small rockets on it. Really, it's up to you. Gavin, that's fine. I'm sure you can find a good way to introduce your character so I'll leave that up to you. Mage17, there's no real posting order so anyone can post next. I will probably put something up in the next few hours, though, just to keep everything moving.[/font][/size]

[b]"Raines, right?"[/b] Jacob asked the angry young man as he slid into the chair next to him, and Raines nodded,[b] "Jacob, most people just call me Slate though."[/b] He extended his hand to Raines, who took it and shook it gingerly. [b]"Braddock Raines,"[/b] he replied, although he stopped and shook his head, [b]"I don't know why I said Braddock, nobody calls me that. Most people just call me Addley." "Nice to meet you, Addley,"[/b] Slate replied, [b]"Well, nice might not be the right word. This is a shitty situation, but you seem to be realising that we've just got to roll with it." "Yeah,"[/b] Addley replied, seemingly resigned to the situation,[b] "The thing that I don't get is, how do they know about us? Like, what we can do? I've never told another soul about my ability, I don't understand it."[/b] Slate shrugged. [b]"Big corporation like this, they've probably got surveillance teams up the wazoo,"[/b] he replied, looking around the room, [b]"They probably saw you at a moment when you thought no-one else was looking, same for the rest of us." "Why do you seem like you know so much about them?"[/b] asked Addley, swivelling his chair a little to face Slate, [b]"You were the first to accept what was happening to us, do you know something we don't?" "I know exactly as much as you, Addley,"[/b] replied Slate, looking Addley straight in the eyes,[b] "I'm just a realist. I'm not like you, I've never had anything even approaching a normal life. Ever since I was old enough, I've been running from people like this. I understand how they operate, and these guys know exactly what they're doing, they've got every angle covered. The best thing, for now at least, is to go along with them. The best that happens, we get rid of the Big Five and make the world a little better. The worst...well, you have an idea." "That makes sense,"[/b] replied Addley, nodding,[b] "So...what can you do? I mean, your ability, what is it?" "I can move things...with my mind,"[/b] replied Slate, [b]"Not anything though, only metal stuff. I can...kind of sense magnetic fields, I guess, and manipulate them. Although not right now,"[/b] he tapped the power inhibitor on his forehead,[b] "What about you?" "I can teleport. Often I can think of a place and, with a little concentration, I can get there. Not long distances, mind, but it comes in handy occasionally." "Like, when running away from people like this?" "Yeah. Lot of good it did me in the end." "Relax, it looks like these people have been dealing with the Big Five, they're a lot more talented than all of us put together. These people are professionals, none of us could have done anything to stop ourselves from being here eventually."[/b] Their conversation was cut short by the door to the meeting room swinging open, and Welsh striding back in, this time followed by a severe, but impossibly attractive woman, her blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. She wore a grey suit with a skirt, tailored like Welsh's, and held a pile of manilla file folders in one hand. A young man in shirt and tie followed her, pushing a wheeled clothes rack in behind her, twelve black suit carriers hanging on it, then turned on his heel and headed back out of the room, his nerves etched across his face. [b]"Well, ladies and gentlemen,"[/b] said Welsh, [b]"I hope you've had some time to acclimatise to your new situation, and I trust that seeing as you're all still here and in one piece, none of you tried to leave. I'm going to assume that this also means you have made your decision to work with us. In that respect, I'd like to introduce the lovely Ms Cassandra Veidt, our finest PR guru."[/b] He gestured to the woman to his right, as if expecting a round of applause, which unsurprisingly never came. [b]"Good evening,"[/b] she said, her voice as severe as her appearance,[b] "As Mr Welsh said, I am Cassandra Veidt, and I am here to introduce you to the country's newest superhero team. That's you, in case you hadn't worked it out."[/b] She grabbed the remote control for the monitors behind her, aimed it at the screens and hit a button. A bright, garish logo coloured red, white and blue swooshed into view on the screen, consisting of the words 'Nation's Pride' and a golden eagle resting on the 'N' of 'Nation's'. Some of the group struggled to stifle giggles, the others looked vaguely nauseous. [b]"You may scoff, but focus group studies have shown that the public want something patriotic, something that evokes the idea that you will protect this country from all that endangers it." "But 'Nation's Pride'?"[/b] Slate asked, [b]"It makes us sound like ******* Nazis!" "Your input is irrelevant, Mr Slate,"[/b] Veidt replied, [b]"The name tested very well indeed with the public, and that is what matters in this case. We need to garner a lot of respect and faith in this team very quickly, and a strong name is the best way to achieve this."[/b] She strode over to the clothes rack and grabbed one of the suit carriers, unzipping it and letting the carrier drop to the floor, revealing the contents. It was a combat suit, consisting of trousers and a high-necked jacket, both made of something at least resembling leather, completely black except for large crimson panels on the front of the jacket. This elicited confusion and more barely-stifled sniggers. [b] "These are your uniforms,"[/b] Veidt continued,[b] "We tested red, white and blue uniforms, but somewhat ironically, the focus groups thought that the name, logo and uniforms combined came across as pandering. Red and black tested much better." "Do they have to be leather?"[/b] asked Tyler, raising his hand as though he were in school,[b] "I'm fairly sure the S&M look is out this season!" "Very amusing,"[/b] she replied, her face showing the irony in this comment, [b]"But this is not leather. It is a highly sophisticated fabric which is not only designed to conceal your natural bio-rhythms, meaning no-one, not even the Big Five, will be able to identify you as anything other than normal humans, but each suit is also tailored specifically to you, enabling you to boost both your ability and your control over it. They are also bulletproof, shock-resistant, flame-resistant and lightweight enough for you to remain agile and free in combat."[/b] She tossed the example uniform to Slate, who caught it and began playing with the fabric. [b]"Finally, these,"[/b] she said, grabbing the files and sliding them to each person around the table, who grabbed the one with their name on and began leafing through them,[b] "Codenames have proved very successful in building trust with the public, thus you have each been designated a callsign, and I have also enclosed suggestions of public behaviour, as well as detailed information on your own abilities and your proposed combat positions. Read them, memorise them, and utilise every piece of information."[/b] Slate flipped through his file, finding countless black-and-white surveillance photos from through the years, pages of handwritten notes on the use of his abilities and newer typed ones on potential future developments, as well as a new codename, and his suggested position on the team. [b]"Jacob Slate, aka 'Magnus', Team Leader,"[/b] he murmured, raising an eyebrow. All this seemed totally surreal to him - two days ago he had been working a low-paying job in a hospital, and now he was a superhero. [b]"Right,"[/b] said Welsh, clapping his hands together and startling some of the group, [b]"Down to real business. We've run simulations and ascertained that the best way to train you is by throwing you in at the deep end; our intel suggests that a gang known as 'The Blanks' is planning a major heist in two days' time. We're talking the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. You're going to stop them, with or without employing lethal force. They are planning to rob the bank at the end of the day, when there are as few civilian witnesses as possible, so there's minimised risk of civilian casualties. You'll be filled in on details as we get them." "What do we do until then?"[/b] asked Autumn, looking up from her file. [b]"Get to know your new situation,"[/b] replied Welsh, [b]"This HQ has everything you need - bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchens, a gym, a training area. Get to know yourselves and each other, too, you never know when you could find something that will help you take down one of the Big Five. Just don't try anything funny. Now go."[/b] He waved his arms as if to dismiss them, and they began to get to their feet and shuffle out of the room, grabbing their files and suit carriers on their way out. Slate remained seated, until only he and Welsh remained in the room. [b]"Problem, Mr Slate?"[/b] Welsh asked. [b]"I'm just wondering why you've made me team leader," [/b]Slate replied. [b]"We've established a preliminary psychological profile for each of you. Yours suggests that you will thrive in your role as team leader,"[/b] said Welsh with a cocky grin, [b]"Basically, Jacob, you don't give a **** what people think of you or the decisions you make, and that's all leadership boils down to in the end. The ability to make the unpopular decision."[/b] Slate got to his feet and stepped close to Welsh. One of the soldiers reacted, but Welsh waved him off, apparently unconcerned. [b]"This is all very impressive,"[/b] Slate murmured, [b]"But don't think, even for a second, that you know what I'm capable of."[/b] With this last word, he turned, grabbed his file and his uniform from the table and stormed out of the room. [b]"I know exactly what you're capable of, Jacob,"[/b] muttered Welsh, [b]"In fact, I've put a lot of work into it."[/b] --- OOC: As Welsh said, you need to get used to your situation, so explore the HQ and your files. Just bear in mind that, while the HQ is well-equipped, you are essentially under house arrest; there is a lot of security presence around the HQ, so you're not able to go outside or even roam around all that freely - basically just keep to the places Welsh mentioned and we'll be on our first mission in no time!

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"]OOC: Don't worry if you haven't posted yet, I'm just trying to keep this thing moving. This post is going to be a bit of an infodump, I'll attempt to make it as readable as possible --- Jacob sat in his cell, his back pressed against the cold concrete wall, his arms resting on his knees. His breath emerged from his mouth in billowing clouds of vapour as he breathed in and out, and he could hear the muffled sounds of the other prisoners, not through the walls, which were thick and soundproofed, but through the metal doors. He had attempted to remove the power inhibitors they had placed on him, but to no avail; he had no idea how they were attached, but they were stuck fast. Suddenly, the door creaked open, a shaft of harsh light flooding into the cell, and two soldiers marched in. Jacob got to his feet, sensing that they were about to move him by force, and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. They nodded, and one of them stepped behind him, prodding the barrel of his rifle into the small of Jacob's back, forcing him to move forward. The second soldier remained in front as they led him from his cell, down the rows of doors and into a large room. The walls were dark blue and seemed to be pulsing with light, there were computer monitors covering two walls, showing news feeds from around the world, and a large, oval-shaped table, the same blue as the walls, sat in the centre of the room, with a dozen or so high-backed leather swivel chairs placed around it. Zachary Welsh, the man Jacob had encountered earlier, stood at the head of the table, facing the bank of monitors. [b]"What is this?" [/b]asked Jacob, looking around as the soldiers gestured for him to sit down, which he did. He didn't see any way of escaping this situation, so he might as well play along for now. [b]"Debriefing,"[/b] said Welsh, spinning around, his hands in his pockets, [b]"The rest will be here in a few minutes."[/b] He was right - over the next ten minutes, more soldiers and prisoners filed into the meeting room, sitting down either in resignation or by force, until the twelve seats around the table were filled with unwilling participants. [b]"Welcome, friends,"[/b] said Welsh loudly, a smirk on his face,[b] "I'm assuming you're all wondering why you're here, and rightly so. For those of you who don't know, I am Zachary Welsh, and you are all currently guests of Geist Industries, and yes, both myself and the rest of the company are well aware of your...special circumstances, hence the reason you've all been fitted with power inhibitors that stop you from accessing them, for now."[/b] A number of the members of the group absent-mindedly ran their fingers over the nodules on their foreheads, and Welsh nodded, smiling. [b]"They're just a friendly reminder of the fact that you are now property of Geist Industries. Your friends and families have each had a visit from one of our agents, who has informed them that you are threats to our national security, and have been taken into top-security holding facilities. No visits, no phone calls, nothing. As far as they're concerned, you barely exist." "You son of a *****,"[/b] snarled one of the prisoners, a young man with a ponytail, jumping to his feet, upon which movement the two guards standing behind his chair forced him back down. [b]"You may well disagree with our methods, Mr Raines, but there's nothing you can do about it right now,"[/b] replied Welsh, [b]"But down to business."[/b] He flicked a remote control at the screens behind him, a group of five changing to show the faces of the Big Five - all recognisable to the public, all infamous across the country. [b]"The Big Five. As you are probably aware, this country is currently in the thrall of these five psychopaths, our former defenders. Police forces, SWAT teams, even the military are unable to do anything to stop them. That's where you come in." "What do you mean?"[/b] asked another prisoner, this one dark-haired, with a scruffy beard covering his chin. [b]"What I mean, Mr Grey, is that you are going to be our new team of heroes. You are going to defend the public from the Big Five, and become the nation's new protectors." "That doesn't seem like the kind of thing you need to abduct us for. You could have just asked,"[/b] said a young, thin girl sat towards the head of the table, looking more nervous than the rest of them. [b]"That's the official line, Ms Finley,"[/b] replied Welsh,[b] "As far as the public are concerned, you are here to save them from the tyranny of the Big Five. Unofficially, you've got a slightly different goal. You are tasked with tracking down and eliminating the Big Five. Permanently." "We're a wet work team?"[/b] asked Jacob, [b]"You want us to kill the Big Five, but behind closed doors." "Check out the big brain on Mr Slate!"[/b] smirked Welsh,[b] "Yes, you will be killing each and every member of the Big Five, stone dead. That's why we've recruited so many of you, it's going to take all of you to take them down." "What makes you think we're going to help you? We're human beings, we can't be forced into murder,"[/b] asked a man with short dark hair and a scar down one side of his face. [b]"I think you'll find I can get you to do anything I want you to, Mr Reins,"[/b] replied Welsh, fishing a small remote control out of his shirt pocket,[b] "With this."[/b] The group craned in to look at the device, but a closer look didn't reveal anything else about it. [b]"It's a detonator. While you were unconscious, we fitted each of you with a small, but powerful, subdermal explosive, right at the bases of your skulls. You step out of line, I detonate them, and you die. Messily, and publicly. Even you, Mr Grey,"[/b] he gestured to the bearded man from earlier,[b] "As resilient as you are, I don't think even you could come back from having your head blown off, so you're no exception." "You can't do this to us!"[/b] shouted the lively, angry young man from earlier, [b]"We're ordinary people, not assassins! We won't kill anyone!" "I don't think we have much of a choice,"[/b] said Jacob,[b] "Geist are holding all the cards. We can't use our abilities to escape, we can't do anything wrong otherwise they'll kill us. I think we're stuck." "Finally, someone gets it,"[/b] said Welsh, his lips curling up into a smile. [b]"I suppose..."[/b] said the scarred man, Reins,[b] "What happens once we've finished...the mission?" "Well, there's a few administrative issues, but you'll be free to either go back to your lives, with considerable financial compensation, or stay on with the team and continue to be defenders of the nation. Either way, once the Five are down, no more lethal takedowns. Five people dead, and your lives will be vastly improved afterwards,"[/b] said Welsh, looking around the group, whose attitudes seemed to have altered slightly with the revelation of this latest piece of information. [b]"You have two choices, basically,"[/b] he said, [b]"Either work with us, or spend the rest of your lives in those cells, and believe me, that's no life. You will be tested, you will be tortured, and you will lose your minds. I'll leave it up to you, talk amongst yourselves."[/b] He signed off with a wink and strolled out of the room. --- OOC: Ok, next round of posting should be your feelings on the information you've just been given, or if you haven't posted yet, post how you were captured as before. You can discuss the situation with the other characters, get to know each other and flesh out your characters a bit. You won't be able to leave the meeting room, as there's a second meeting coming up (the fun never ends!). But once that's over and done with, we'll be into the meat of the RP. And don't you worry, there's still a few mysteries to be solved![/font][/size]

[font="Lucida Sans Unicode"][size="6"][center][IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/throwawayslogo.jpg[/IMG] [b][u]The Throwaways[/b][/u][/center][/size][size="2"] [right][i]"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men."[/i] - Lord Acton, 1887[/right] [b]"So, tell me what we've got,"[/b] said the tall, dark-haired man, stroking his goatee as he strolled along the rows of cells, their metal doors shut fast, his polished shoes clicking on the hard, concrete floor as he walked. [b]"We've captured the majority of the surviving members of the twelve, sir," [/b]said the shorter, balding man, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he struggled to keep pace with his superior, fumbling through papers attached to a clipboard,[b] "Subject #001 remains elusive, but other than the ones officially classified deceased, we got all of them." "Talk me through them,"[/b] said the dark-haired man, straightening his black skinny tie. [b]"Subject #004, real name Carter Grey, the man who cannot be killed. Subject #006 almost got away from us, his real name's Cody Aneel, and he turned into some little woodland critter and ran away, but we got him. Subject #007 was tricky to capture, his real name is Tyler Reins and he appears to be the luckiest man alive. Subject #008, also known as Riona Sharp, put up a fight, but we got her. Subject #010 wasn't too difficult, we used the tactics we used for one of the big boys and got him with relative ease. The intel we received on Subject #011 was vital in his capture, real name Braddock Raines, goes by "Addley", tricky little bastard has the ability to teleport. Autumn Finley, that's Subject #012 also put up a fight, burst the eardrums of one of the men assigned to capture her." "And what of our main man?" "Subject #003, real name Jacob Slate, has the ability to control magnetic fields. He could be dangerous, we don't yet know the limit of his powers." "Power inhibitors?"[/b] asked the dark-haired man. [b]"Applied and tested, they can't do a thing unless you want them to. Here's the controller,"[/b] the smaller man handed his superior a small key fob, which he took and tucked into his pocket. [b]"Excellent. Bring young Mr Slate into the debriefing room. I'd like a little chat with him."[/b] --- Ten minutes later, Jacob stirred, opening his eyes to the harsh, fluorescent light. He tried to move to brush the hair out of his eyes, but found that his wrists were tied behind the back of the chair he was seated in. He looked around, saw only concrete walls and a one-way mirror set into one wall. He stared at his own reflection: he looked terrible. He was pale, there were rings under his eyes, his dark hair was lank and plastered to his face. Whoever had put him in this position had removed his shirt, leaving only the light grey wife-beater underneath, and there were two strange metal nodules attached to either temple. The door squealed as it swung open, and a man in a tailored black suit walked in and sat on the chair opposite Jacob, crossing his legs as he did. He stared at Jacob, who stared back, unable or unwilling to speak first. [b]"You caused us quite a bit of trouble back there, Mr Slate,"[/b] he said with a smirk,[b] "Fortunately you're not going to be giving us more now you're here."[/b] Jacob snarled and reached out with his ability, attempting to sense the magnetic fields in the room in order to manipulate them. But he couldn't feel anything. [b]"Ooh, scary,"[/b] said the suited man, his voice dripping with sarcasm,[b] "That'll be those power inhibitors we stuck on you,"[/b] he gestured to the nodules on Jacob's head, [b]"You're not allowed to use your abilities until I decide you can." "How do you know about my ability?"[/b] murmured Jacob. [b]"Are you kidding? I know everything about you, Jacob,"[/b] he replied, [b]"I know you grew up in an orphanage, I know you were never adopted, I know your bank account details and where you live. And yes, I know about your abilities." "Who the **** are you?" "My name is Zachary Welsh,"[/b] he replied,[b] "I'm an executive here at GI, and I'm now your boss." "GI?" "Don't you watch the news? GI is Geist Industries. Get to know them, because they own your stupid ass now." "You own me? How did you work that one out?" "That's not for you to know. Not just yet, at least. All you need to know right now is that there is nothing you can do to hurt us, and it's really not in your best interests to try. This can be a very fruitful relationship if you allow it to be, and if you're not prepared to do that then you're of little use to us." "And what happens to people who are of little use to you?" "They have a tendency to...stop."[/b] The suited man got to his feet and gestured to someone behind the one-way mirror, and a moment later the heavy metal door swung open. [b]"You can be great, or you can be an insect. Up to you, really."[/b] He walked out, and the door swung shut behind him. --- OOC: Ok, here we go. Yes, we've all been captured already - your first post should be a retrospective on how you were caught by the agents (I've tried to keep the explanations of how you were all captured as vague as possible to give you some freedom). See the 'Two weeks ago' section of the Auditions thread for a guideline. Most importantly, enjoy![/font][/size]

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"][b]SIGN UPS ARE NOW CLOSED![/b] That is, with the exception of Lilt, I will allow you to edit your post, provided you do it within the next couple of days. You're all in, and I will post the RP proper later today! I'm really happy to have had so much interest in this, your sign ups are all really good and I hope we can make this RP something a bit special![/font][/size]

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"]Preliminary Casefile [b][b]Subject Number:[/b] #003 Real Name:[/b] Jacob Slate [b]Codename:[/b] Magnus [b]Age: [/b]23 [b]Appearance:[/b] See attached. However, this photo was taken several months ago and subject's physical appearance may have changed in the intervening time. [b]Personality: [/b]Preliminary evaluation has thrown up some concerns about Subject #003's psychological state - he seems to have a number of unresolved anger issues and seems detached from other human beings. However, it is thought that with training, he subject can be fashioned into a strong leader. He has dubious morals, and is willing to do things that can only be classed as 'morally gray' in order to get results. [b]Powers/Abilities:[/b] Subject has power over magnetic fields, meaning he can move metal with his mind. At this stage in his training, he is able to lift heavy weights and move small objects quickly, but his fine motor control leaves a lot to be desired. He has also recently developed the ability to create electromagnetic pulses, which can disable electronic equipment, but this facet of his ability is unstable and difficult to control. Tests have shown that subject has the potential to be one of the most powerful supers on the planet, but it will take years, possibly even decades of training, and he is unlikely ever to live up to this potential. [b]Other Skills:[/b] Subject is a competent physical combatant, able to hold his own against one or two opponents of a similar level, but he usually prefers to use his abilities to fight. However, he is a good tactician and leader, able to effectively organise and deploy his team in a combat situation, partly due to the fact that he doesn't really care what they think of him.[/font][/size] [attachment=15179:Aidan Turner.jpg]

[center][size="6"][b]The Throwaways Backstage[/b][/size][/center] [size="2"]This is where I will post information about the RP, and answer any questions you might have. I'll start by posting information about the Big Five. [center][IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/ThePatriot.jpg[/IMG] [b]THE PATRIOT[/b] The leader of the Big Five. He has a number of powers, including superhuman strength, speed and durability, flight and heat vision. He was sworn protector of American for a number of years, until he realised that he could have anything he wanted, and decided to start taking it for himself, leading to the beginning of the Rebellion. Since then he has committed robbery, murder, arson and rape on numerous occasions, and his most significant act since the beginning of the Rebellion was the complete destruction of the Pentagon by crashing Air Force One into it. It is expected that he will soon take the title of President of the United States by force, at which point he can extend his Rebellion to the rest of the world. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Hydro-Girl.jpg[/IMG] [b]HYDRO-GIRL[/b] A young woman with complete power over water and it's natural denizens (fish etc.), including the alternate forms of water (ice, steam). During the original appearance of the Big Five, she seemed like the sweet and sexy member of the group, even featuring on the cover of Playboy. However, since the Rebellion, she has revealed herself as violent and ruthless, using both her looks and her powers to cause chaos. Notably, she has caused massive flash floods across the country, and has on a number of occasions threatened to plunge much of North America into a new Ice Age. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/FreightTrain.jpg[/IMG] [b]FREIGHT TRAIN[/b] Physically the strongest member of the Big Five, but mentally the most deficient, Freight Train is a human juggernaut. He not only has super strength and durability, but is incredibly fast, meaning once he has started, only he can stop himself. However, he is incredibly stupid, and will constantly put himself in incredible physical danger simply because he doesn't know any better. He also has anger issues, which became known to the public when he punched the head off the Statue of Liberty. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Starlighter-1-1.jpg[/IMG] [b]STARLIGHTER[/b] The youngest and most inexperienced member of the Big Five, Starlighter has the ability to fly and control light, creating flashes and beams of light, to the point that he can shoot lasers from any part of his body. He gets his power from the sun, and to a lesser extent the stars, meaning he is significantly less powerful at night. He carved The Patriot's image into Mount Rushmore on The Patriot's orders, but often complains about this act. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Oracle.jpg[/IMG] [b]ORACLE[/b] The least combat-active member of the Big Five, Oracle is their master tactician, mostly due to he ability to perceive the future. Her visions tend to come in fragments, and as such the rest of the group usually leave her alone to interpret them. It is said that it was one of her visions that persuaded The Patriot to go rogue, as he feels obliged to follow his 'destiny' as she sees it. Often considered to be insane due to the nature and the frequency of her visions. [b][u]GEIST INDUSTRIES STAFF[/u][/b] [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/ZacharyWelsh.jpg[/IMG] [b]ZACHARY WELSH[/b] A Geist Executive, and the official liaison to the team. He has access to a large amount of state-of-the-art technology pioneered by Geist, and has no qualms about using it to keep his new team in line. A tough, ruthless man with a twisted sense of humour and some less-than-acceptable personal habits. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/CassandraVeidt.jpg[/IMG] [b]CASSANDRA VEIDT[/b] A cold, efficient woman, and Geist's best PR consultant. She designed the look and themes of Nation's Pride personally, and went to great lengths to put together the files on each and every one of the team. She has very little sense of humour, and will not tolerate fools. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/ElenaAmbrose.jpg[/IMG] [b]DR. ELENA AMBROSE[/b] The doctor assigned to Nation's Pride. She is a beautiful and charming woman with a great sense of humour, behind which is a great deal of trauma. She is good friends with Michael McKnight, aka Novus, the pair of them having worked for Geist Industries for a number of years. [b][u]TEASERS[/u][/b] What is Jacob Slate's darkest secret? What are the secrets of the Advanced Biology Division? What is the mystery that has plagued Oracle for years? What lies in the Vault at the heart of the [i]Valiant[/i]? How are the Big Five connected to Geist? What is 'Project All-Star'? Why is Welsh so keen for Hydro-Girl to be eliminated? What is The Patriot's plan, and why does he have a vendetta against Addley? Who is 'Adam' and what is his connection to Jacob Slate?[/center][/size]

[b][center][size="6"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"]The Throwaways[/size][/center] [size="2"]WARNING: THIS RP WILL CONTAIN VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE AND SEX, AND IS THEREFORE DEFINITELY NOT FOR THE FAINT-HEARTED. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY ANY OF THE ABOVE, TURN AWAY NOW. IF NOT, COME ON IN![/b] [right][i]"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men."[/i] - Lord Acton, 1887[/right] [center][b] -Twenty-one years ago-[/b][/center] Fluorescent strip lights hummed, suspended from the high, vaulted ceilings of the long, narrow underground room, casting their pale, sickly light over the wooden workbenches and the equipment scattered across them. Large glass cases filled with dark, slowly-shifting shapes lined one wall, and a thin, hunched man with a dirty white lab coat draped over his wizened frame shuffled along the rows of cases, looking carefully into each one as he passed, scribbling rough notes on the battered clipboard in his hand. [b]"No change,"[/b] he whispered, his voice hoarse, and tinged with disappointment. He looked deep into one of the cases, with a yellowing label in the corner which read "Subect #003", and softly tapped his finger against the glass. The shape inside stirred, moving towards the front of the case, and pressed itself up against the glass. It was a small, male child, seemingly no older than eighteen months, now pressing his hand against the glass and blinking his large blue eyes at the old man. The old man's narrow mouth curled up into a smile, and he pressed his index finger against the glass, where the child's hand was pressed on the other side. Suddenly, the door to the room exploded open, and two metal canisters flew in high arcs through the air and clattered to the ground, smoke gushing from them and engulfing the old man. He choked on the acrid smoke and blinked as he saw bright red beams shining through the gloom, the ends dancing around his chest. [b]"Step away from the case!"[/b] came a booming voice, echoing around the room, but the old man was disoriented and confused, and he stuck to the spot in his panic. He heard more shouts, then sound exploded in his ears, and his chest exploded where the lasers had been aimed. He fell slowly to his knees, then slumped to the ground, blood pumping from the chest wound. [b]"Target down, we have secured the hostages!" [/b]were the very last words the old man heard as darkness clouded over everything... [center] [b]-Eleven years ago-[/b][/center] [b]"You're such a freak,"[/b] spat the unusually muscular young man, wiping the smear of blood off his knuckles as he stood over his smaller, weaker classmate, who had sagged to his knees under the weight of the first punch. Blood was dribbling from his nose and top lip in a steady flow, and he could feel the place where a bruise was bound to form around the bridge of his nose. He blinked to hold back the hot tears he could feel welling up in his eyes and struggled slowly to his feet, blocking out the jeers and insults of the crowd that was surrounding the fight. [b]"Why don't you just leave me alone?"[/b] he murmured, flecks of blood spraying to the floor as he spoke, [b]"Please, just leave me alone!" "What the ****, Slate? Are you crying?"[/b] asked the bully, barely stifling his laughter and leaning back on the metal school gate,[b] "Slate's a little *****, everyone!"[/b] The crowd started laughing and jeering louder, and the twelve-year-old felt his anger building inside him, but unlike all the other times this had happened it seemed like something tangible. His breathing grew heavier, and he turned, his whole body trembling, to face the bully. The school gate which he was leaning on was rattling, and the bully moved away from it, advancing slowly on the angry young boy. [b]"Now you're spazzing out on us? What next, are you gonna piss your pants?"[/b] he snarled, and at that moment the smaller boy flung his hand out, and the metal gate swung open violently, slamming into the bully's back and sending him to the floor with a thud. A moment later, he pushed himself to his feet, his face now bleeding more profusely than his victim's, pure anger etched across his face. [b] "You're ******* dead!"[/b] he scowled, but then he noticed the weaker boy slumped back down on his knees, still trembling, and decided this particular victim wasn't worth his time, and walked away, but not before spitting a mouthful of blood and saliva onto the boy's back. [b]"Asshole."[/b] [center] [b]-Five years ago-[/b][/center] The alarm screeched, echoing around the marble lobby of the bank. The group of men in black combat gear hefted sports bags full of money out of the vault, assault rifles slung around their shoulders. Bank customers were lying on the floor, covering their heads with their arms and shaking, some of them crying in fear, hoping not to be shot like the man who had tried to stand up to the robbers a few moments ago. Suddenly, the glass doors of the bank exploded inwards, sending shattered glass flying across the lobby, and a dark-clad figure swooped in through the gap where the doors had just been, landing on the floor in front of the lead robber. He was a tall, almost unnaturally muscular man dressed from his neck to his feet in a thick black leather jumpsuit, with a black mask over his eyes. [b]"What the **** is this?"[/b] spat the lead robber,[b] "A ******* superhero?" "You're damn right, asshole,"[/b] replied the newcomer, slamming his hand into the criminal's chest and sending him flying across the lobby, slamming hard into the wall with a loud crack, and slumping to the floor. The rest of the robber watched this, shocked, and began firing their assault rifles at him. The man moved so fast all that could be seen of him was a black blur, dodging the bullets and attacking the robbers in quick succession, knocking them all to the floor and disarming them. The hostages began to shakily get to their feet, in awe of the man who now stood in front of the pile of money. [b]"Who...who are you?"[/b] asked the man closest to him. [b]"I am The Patriot!" [/b]he boomed, standing tall, hands on hips. [b]"You're...a superhero?"[/b] [b]"The first of many, ma'am. The first of many,"[/b] he said with a smile as cameras flashed from outside the bank. [center][b] -Six weeks ago-[/b][/center] [b]"The country is in a state of panic,"[/b] said the reporter,[b] "The Big Five, those superheroes we have all known, respect and loved for the past five years, have seemingly turned on the country they supposedly protect. Many people have been killed in what is now being called "The Rebellion", there has been an extensive amount of property damage and people are living in fear. It is expected that the President will be forced to hand power over to The Patriot, who is now heralding himself as the One True Leader of America..."[/b] The reporter was cut off mid-sentence by an enormous fist slamming down on top of the television, crushing it almost flat. [b]"Fuckin' news!"[/b] growled the owner of the large fist, a similarly large man, covered in rippling muscles and a suit of sleeveless red armour,[b] "Makin' out like we're the bad guys just for takin' what we deserve!" "Well...we are the bad guys now, Freight Train,"[/b] said a slender, blue-haired woman as she slinked past. [b]"Hydro-Girl's right,"[/b] said a young man crouched on an armchair in the corner of the hotel room, [b]"By all definitions of the words, we are the bad guys." "And don't you just ******* love it?"[/b] said The Patriot, a wide grin across his face and a devilish glint in his eyes. [center][b] -Two weeks ago-[/b][/center] The young man's boots slapped on the hard concrete as he ran full pelt across the rooftop, breathing hard as he moved. A few feet behind him, a man in a grey suit and holding a handgun ran at a similar speed, although his movement was somewhat hindered by the nature of his clothes. Leaping over the gap between the building he was on and the next one, the young man rolled as he landed and continued to run, his arms and legs pumping. The suited man followed him over the gap and landed harder, skidding a few feet across the ground as he landed, before getting up and continuing his pursuit, only stopping to aim and squeeze off a few shots at the young man. Concrete exploded by his head as the bullets just missed, and he reached out as he ran, spotting a metal pipe lying on the ground, which flew into his hand as he ran. He ducked behind an air-conditioning unit on top of the building, wielding the pipe like a club, and swung out as the suited man rounded the corner, slamming the pipe into his chest and knocking him to the floor. [b]"Stay away from me!"[/b] he panted as he stood over the suited man, who lay on his back gasping for air, his gun now just out of reach. The young man flicked his hand out, and the gun skittered away across the rooftop. He turned to walk away and leave the suited man where he was, when something stung his neck. He reached his hand up and found a small plastic dart stuck in his neck. He yanked it out, but it had already deposited it's payload into his bloodstream. [b] "Oh ****..."[/b] he murmured as he lost consciousness, dropping to the floor hard, just making out the two suited men stepping into his vision as he blacked out. --- We live in a world where superheroes are very much real. America was protected by the Big Five, five of the most powerful supers in the world: The Patriot, Starlighter, Hydro-Girl, Freight Train and Oracle. That is, until they went rogue and began attacking innocent Americans, and using their powers for their own personal gain. But this is not their story. At least, not yet. Twenty-one years ago, Special Forces stormed an underground research lab where an informant claimed experiments were being carried out on children. This information was proved true, the scientist involved in these experiments was killed in the operation, and all twelve children were recovered. The nature of these experiments was unknown, but the children were both unharmed and completely healthy. Unfortunately, their parentage could not be ascertained, and thus they were all relocated to an orphanage run by a woman named Alexandra Foster. In the following years, some were re-homed, but others remained in the orphanage until they were old enough to move out and find their own ways in life. For all intents and purposes, their upbringing was normal enough, except for one thing. When each of the children reached puberty, they manifested strange abilities. For example, Subject #003, real name Jonathan Slate, developed the ability to control magnetic fields with his mind, and Subject #009, real name Katherine Bell, manifested the ability to pass through solid objects. For the most part, they managed to keep their abilities secret, but in the past twelve months they have been disappearing without explanation, abducted by men in grey suits. This is their story. --- Welcome to The Throwaways, a brand new original superhero story. There are a number of mysteries to be solved in this RP, and answers will come steadily throughout. However, you should have everything you need to know thus far, aside from the sign-up, which is here: [b] Subject Number:[/b] (between #002 and #012, excluding #003 and #009) [b]Real Name:[/b] [b]Codename:[/b] (this will not be used at first, but it is important for later in the RP. Make sure it is relevant to your abilities) [b]Age: [/b](this will be either 22 or 23, sorry for the limitation but it is important for the story) [b]Appearance:[/b] (as with all my RPs, a picture or a detailed description is great, both is fantastic) [b]Personality:[/b] [b]Powers/Abilities: [/b](make this reasonable - think X-Men, anyone that I consider to be overpowered will not get in. Also consider that, while we've had these abilities for 10 years or so, we've never received and formal training, so you won't be very good with your powers) [b]Writing Snippet:[/b] (write a short piece describing how your powers emerged - see my "Eleven years ago" section for a guideline) [b]Other Skills:[/b] (can you fight? Pick locks? Anything helpful that is not a facet of your powers will work here) I will post my character sheet once I've seen some interest in this, either here or in the Backstage thread which I will post momentarily. If you have any questions, comments or queries then don't hesitate to let them be known![/font][/size]

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"][b]"Wow,"[/b] said Kincaid, exasperated, [b]"You. Are. UGLY." [/b]The creature's eyes swivelled, independently of each other until they locked onto Kincaid and Coronamon. [b]"Insolent child,"[/b] hissed the Digital Monster, [b]"You don't know who you are dealing with!"[/b] [b]"Someone please enlighten me,"[/b] Kincaid sighed, emphasising his sarcasm with big, exaggerated arm movements and a very obvious eye-roll. [b]"This is Chameleonmon,"[/b] replied Coronamon, stepping between Chameleonmon and his human partner, [b]"He's a crafty character, and while his Tongue Lashing technique is dangerous, his real skill is his hypnotizing Wide Eyes attack!"[/b] [b] "Thanks, buddy,"[/b] said Kincaid, [b]"So, you're Chameleonmon? Makes sense, I guess."[/b] [b]"Silence!"[/b] screeched Chameleonmon, [b]"Tongue Lashing!"[/b] His tongue whipped out, hurtling towards Kincaid, only to be blocked at the last second by Coronamon, who slapped the tongue down, and watched as it retracted back into Chameleonmon's mouth, then blasted a fireball out of his forehead at the enemy Digimon. Chameleonmon turned, and the fireball dissipated across the armour that covered his back. [b]"He's too strong,"[/b] Coronamon said, turning to Kincaid, [b]"He's an Armor-level Digimon, I'm not powerful enough to beat him!"[/b] [b]"Tongue Lashing!"[/b] screamed Chameleonmon again, this time the tongue slamming into Coronamon's back, knocking him to the ground, then snapping back to Chameleonmon's mouth, at which point he lashed it out again, this time the slimy tip wrapping around Coronamon's ankles, dragging his prone form back towards the evil Digimon. [b]"Coronamon! Get off him!"[/b] shouted Kincaid, at which point he felt something in his pocket. Reaching in, he yanked out the device that had assisted in Sunmon's digivolution. It was glowing again, with a bright orange light, and Kincaid held it up, desperately hoping that it would do something. Which it did. [b]"Coronamon, digivolve to..."[/b] The same orange light engulfed Coronamon, the same way it had to Sunmon, and his form began to grow and shift, this time getting much larger, until it was larger than Chameleonmon, causing the evil Digimon to let go of his ankles and snap his tongue back into his mouth. The light exploded outwards once again, causing Kincaid to reel back and shield his eyes with his arm. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Firamon.png[/IMG] [b]"...[i]Firamon[/i]!"[/b] The new Digimon stood on all fours, his mane full and proud, small jets of flame bursting from all over his body as he breathed in and out. [b]"Holy..."[/b] murmured Kincaid, looking at his new friend in awe. Chameleonmon jumped back, clearly afraid of this new development, as Firamon turned to face his opponent. [b]"Do you wish to flee, Chameleonmon?"[/b] Firamon boomed, his impressive stature casting a shadow over Chameleonmon, who shook his head, even though he was clearly shaking. [b]"I...I dare not,"[/b] he stammered, [b]"It would n-not sit well with my Lord..."[/b] [b]"Very well. If you wish to fight, then I will gladly vanquish you myself,"[/b] replied Firamon, flapping the wings on his shoulders and launching himself into the air, [b]"Flame Dive!"[/b] Fire spread across Firamon's body, until he seemed like a shooting star, as he hurtled down towards Chameleonmon, who stood quaking on the spot, and as Firamon collided with him, he disintegrated, leaving nothing but a smoking crater, a foot and a half deep in the ground, in the centre of which stood Firamon, still tall and proud. Kincaid stood, his mouth hanging open, as Riley and Lunamon regained consciousness behind him, and the rest of the group stumbled, a little dazed, from the forest in which Chameleonmon had trapped them. [b]"Whoah..."[/b] mumbled Eddie, gesturing towards Firamon, [b]"Who's the lion guy?"[/b] [b]"That's Firamon!"[/b] yelled Gaomon, clearly impressed by his friend's digivolution, [b]"Coronamon must have digivolved to defeat Chameleonmon!"[/b] [b]"I did,"[/b] replied Firamon, yawning before his larger form dissipated, leaving Coronamon standing in the spot he had just occupied. Kincaid rushed over to his friend and raised his hand, which Coronamon looked at, mystified, before Wyatt stumbled past and slapped his hand against Kincaid's. Coronamon smiled, and followed suit, high-fiving his human friend with a wide grin across his face. [b]"Why did Chameleonmon attack us?"[/b] asked Lunamon. [b]"He said something about his 'Lord',"[/b] replied Coronamon, [b]"I don't know who he meant, but I'll bet this Lord is behind everything!"[/b] [b]"I hope we can find out before too long,"[/b] said Falcomon, [b]"Come on, let's keep going!"[/b][/font][/size]

[font="Lucida Sans Unicode"][size="4"][b][center]Episode Two: Flames of Loyalty: Enter Firamon![/center][/b][/size] [size="2"][b]"Digi...Destined..." [/b]mused Wyatt as they walked across a wide, grassy plain around thirty minutes' walk from the clearing they had encountered their first wild Digimon, trying to work out from a single word what their purpose was in the Digital World. [b]"I think you've missed the ones we can ask about that, Wyatt,"[/b] said Kincaid, calling out to his friend, who was a few feet in front of him. Wyatt turned and shrugged, and Kincaid sighed, rolled his eyes and pointed to Coronamon, who was walking alongside him. Wyatt nodded in sudden recognition, and turned to Falcomon, who had landed on the ground next to him. [b]"Falcomon, can you tell us what a 'DigiDestined' is?" "Of course, Wyatt!"[/b] beamed Falcomon, and the rest of the group gathered around the bird-like Digimon,[b] "The DigiDestined are humans paired with Digimon partners in order to save the Digital World from a grave threat! You, my friends, are the Chosen Ones!" "The Chosen Ones?"[/b] murmured Riley,[b] "Chosen for what? What grave threat are we supposed to be saving you from?" "We don't know,"[/b] replied Coronamon,[b] "Virus-type Digimon like the Goblimon have become more aggressive, attacking other Digimon for very little reason, but we don't know why. That's what we're trying to find out, and now you're here you can help!" "But we've never been here before," [/b]replied Eddie,[b] "How are we supposed to help?" "You have qualities that will help us overcome whatever stands ahead of us," [/b]replied Gaomon,[b] "Resolution, Reliability, Loyalty and Curiosity. These qualities are why you were paired with us, and even though you are in unfamiliar surroundings and don't know this world, they will help us hold back the rising threat." "Besides, we know our way round the Digital World,"[/b] chirped Lunamon, [b]"We can help you!" "Together, we'll be unstoppable!"[/b] said Coronamon, a grin spreading across his face, and Kincaid slowly returned his smile. [b]"So what's our first move?"[/b] he asked. [b]"Well, if we keep heading this way, there's a Digimon nearby who can help us. I'm sure he'd love to meet you!"[/b] replied Falcomon, gesturing to the horizon ahead of them. Suddenly, a blast of purple energy hurtled into the middle of the group, causing them all to jump backwards. They looked upwards, and saw what looked like a black dinosaur plummeting towards them, pulsating purple energy surrounding it's claws. [b]"Sorry to break up your party,"[/b] it growled in a gravelly voice. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/BlackGuilmon.jpg[/IMG] [b]"It's BlackGuilmon!" [/b]yelled Coronamon,[b] "A powerful dark Digimon - his Pyro Grenade ability is dangerous, but it's his Virus Breath that takes most of his opponents down!" "Do you guys always do that?"[/b] asked Kincaid, slight panic breaking through his cool exterior. [b]"Enough!"[/b] shouted BlackGuilmon, opening his powerful jaws and blasting more purple energy at the group. Coronamon dodged the attack and blasted a ball of flame back at the dark Digimon. It struck and threw BlackGuilmon backwards, where Lunamon fired a ball of water at it, seemingly stunning it. [b]"Gao Rush!"[/b] yelled Gaomon, charging towards his opponent and rapidly punching him, knocking him to the ground, defeated. [b]"That was really easy," [/b]grinned Kincaid, [b]"You guys are a good team!"[/b] BlackGuilmon shakily got to his feet, glaring at Kincaid and growling softly under his breath. [b]"You are certainly powerful,"[/b] he growled,[b] "But you are unprepared for what is coming. You will not be victorious..."[/b] Purple energy began emanating from BlackGuilmon, concealing his form, which began to change slowly, growing much larger and changing shape into something much more terrifying. [b]"BlackGuilmon Digivolves to..."[/b] The energy burst out from the form to reveal a huge, dragon-like Digimon, with huge, powerful claws and blades on it's arms, and flames issuing forth from it's mouth with each exhale. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/BlackGrowmon.jpg[/IMG] [b]"BlackGrowlmon!" "No..." [/b]groaned Gaomon, [b]"That's BlackGrowlmon, the Jet Black Demon Dragon! Watch out for Exhaust Flame and Plasma Blade, they're both deadly!"[/b] BlackGrowlmon opened his mouth and blasted forth a huge stream of flames, scorching the ground around them. [b] "We're no match for him!"[/b] yelled Falcomon as Lunamon threw balls of water, one after the other at the dark dragon,[b] "BlackGrowlmon is a Champion-level Digimon, much stronger than all of us put together!"[/b] As if to illustrate this point, BlackGrowlmon raised a huge claw and swiped it at Coronamon, hitting the smaller Digimon square in the chest and throwing him over Kincaid's head, where he thudded to the ground hard. [b]"Coronamon!"[/b] yelled Kincaid, rushing over to his new friend and dropping to his knees, [b]"Are you ok?" "Look out!"[/b] yelled Coronamon, looking over Kincaid's shoulder to BlackGrowlmon, who was charging towards the pair...[/font][/size]

Well I didn't really watch Digimon beyond Season Two (and even that was sometime ago so certain plot elements are somewhat hazy) but I liked the way they set the adventure out, breaking it up into 'chapters', with a different villain in each, but all the villains connected. But as for specific Digimon to have as villains, I'm really not sure. The brave Virus Digimon seems to provide adequate danger for us to overcome for now, however, so I will work on that for my next post. I'll start putting something decent together for the first post of my chapter, but it may take a few days!

Really enjoying this so far, I hope there are no problems with my latest post, I was trying to inject some more peril into the situation. Five Goblimon should be no match for us, right? Obviously I can edit if there are any problems with my post.

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"][b]"This is the weirdest nightmare I've ever had!"[/b] yelled Kincaid over the ensuing chaos. The Goblimon were leaping around, hurling handfuls of flame at the group of kids and their tiny bouncing creatures, Eddie's Digimon had just inexplicably changed into a dog with boxing gloves, Riley's into...some kind of rabbity thing, and a giant mammoth wearing a metal helmet was standing watch over the whole scene, [b]"Did they put something in the water at camp?"[/b] [b]"I think this is real, Kincaid!"[/b] shouted Wyatt, dodging fireballs as the pair of Goblimon advanced on the group, Pinamon shooting ineffectual bolts of electricity at them. Sunmon struggled in Kincaid's arms, and he realised he was clutching the little Digimon significantly harder than he had intended. He shrugged apologetically and placed Sunmon on the ground, where he shot tiny balls of flame back at the Goblimon: they were much smaller and less powerful than the ones the Goblimon were throwing, and did very little damage to the manic, giggling Digimon. [b]"It's not working!"[/b] squeaked Sunmon, [b]"The Goblimon are much stronger than us in this form!"[/b] [b]"Isn't there something more you can do?"[/b] asked Kincaid. Sunmon stopped attacking the stronger Digimon and turned to face Kincaid, a grin spread wide across his little face, a mischievous glint in his eyes. [b]"Oh, there's something I can do, alright!"[/b] he replied with a smirk. Kincaid's pocket began to glow, and the same orangey light began to emanate from Sunmon's diminutive form, quickly spreading to engulf the whole Digimon. [b]"Sunmon, digivolve to..."[/b] The light spread in bright flashes, and Kincaid could just about make out the Digimon's form changing within the field of light, until it exploded outwards and left the Digimon standing tall and proud in the midst of the chaos. [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Coronamon.png[/IMG] [b]"...[i]Coronamon[/i]!"[/b] A new Digimon was left in place of Sunmon, a lion-like creature a few feet tall, surrounded by a corona of flames. [b]"That...is...awesome!"[/b] shouted Kincaid, looking at the new creature in awe. Coronamon turned and gave Kincaid a wink, then turned his attention back to the Goblimon, and took a deep breath, puffing his chest out. [b]"[i]Corona Flame[/i]!"[/b] he yelled, a ball of flame building in the circular brand on his forehead, then blasting outwards at the closest Goblimon, the one Gaomon and Lunamon had been attacking and weakening. The ball of flame slammed into the Goblimon, hurling it backwards with ease, and at the highest point of the arc it followed through the air, it burst into tiny particles of energy and disappeared. [b]"Yeah!"[/b] Coronamon shouted, raising his arms in celebration, [b]"Let's see what else these Goblimon have got!"[/b] At that moment, the remaining Goblimon stopped, threw it's head back and howled into the air. [b]"That's...probably not good..."[/b] said Kincaid as Coronamon took a step back and looked into the forest. [b]"I don't think it is..."[/b] replied the Digimon, pointing towards the trees. Four more Goblimon emerged from the forest, surrounding Mammothmon and brandishing their clubs, ready to attack. [b]"Nope, definitely not good..."[/b] sighed Kincaid.[/font][/size]

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"]Joseph Kincaid came to slowly, realising he was face down on the dusty ground, the powdery earth clinging to his lips and face. He groaned slightly as he pushed himself upwards, and twisted his neck from side to side to work out the kinks, a loud crack making him groan even further. He coughed, a dry dust cloud emerging from his mouth as he did so, and he brought himself up to his knees gradually. Blinking a few times to work the dust out of his eyes, he looked around at his surroundings. He seemed to be in a small clearing within a thick, dense forest of trees and plants he had never seen before. [b]"I guess we're not in Kansas anymore,"[/b] he groaned, lifting himself to his feet and brushing the dust off his clothes. His courier bag lay on the ground a few feet away from him, and he let out a small sigh of relief: at least he wasn't completely without supplies. He grabbed the bag off the floor and rummaged around in it, eventually grabbing a bottle of water and yanking it from the depths of the bag. He spun the cap off and took a hefty swig, enjoying the feeling of the cool water flowing down his throat. He replaced the cap on the now half-empty bottle, satisfied if not completely happy, when a small burst of flame erupted from the forest surrounding him, followed by a tiny voice. [b]"Hrp...'scuse me,"[/b] it said, and Kincaid swivelled to face the direction the voice had come from. [b]"Who is that? Wyatt, is that you?"[/b] he asked. [b]"No..."[/b] replied the voice, [b]"It's not Wyatt."[/b] A small red creature, spherical and about the size of a cantaloupe emerged from the undergrowth, a smile on it's tiny face and a plume of bright flame emanating from the top of it's head. Large spines protruded from it's body, seven of them, evenly spaced around the spherical body/face unit in the middle. [b]"So I'm being tormented by a flaming tetherball?"[/b] Kincaid sighed, [b]"That's not even frightening. Whoever thought this prank up really didn't do their homework..."[/b] The young man's mocking of his new companion was interrupted by a burst of flame exploding upwards from the top of the little creature's head, which immediately made him simultaneously stop talking and jump backwards about a foot. [b]"Who's not frightening now?"[/b] the little creature asked, as smug as was possible for something with so few physical features. [b]"Ok, ok, I'm sorry,"[/b] Kincaid responded, [b]"I'm Kincaid, what's your name? Do you even have a name? What are you, for that matter?"[/b] [b]"Of course I do,"[/b] the creature replied, [b]"I'm a Digital Monster, or Digimon for short, and my name is...[i]Sunmon[/i]! Come on, Kincaid, this way!"[/b] Sunmon turned and bounced off into the undergrowth, the flame atop it's head illuminating a path through the dark forest. Kincaid shook his head in disbelief, but still slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder and followed the flame through the thicket. It was only a dozen or so feet deep, and with the Digimon in the lead it only took a few moments to make it through into a second clearing, this one much greener than the one Kincaid had awoken in, with four large stones placed around a small fire pit in the ground. It was quiet, all sound deadened by the thick undergrowth on all sides, save for a pair of hushed voices on the far side of the clearing. Kincaid blinked and cleared his eyes, reaching into his bag to fish out his glasses, which he slid onto his nose, making the two speaking figures come into focus. The first figure was Wyatt, the boy Kincaid had made friends with at camp just a few days before, and he was one Kincaid was glad to see. The second figure was a second small creature, this one bird-like, with brown feathers, perched on top of Wyatt's head. [b]"Kincaid!"[/b] came Wyatt's voice across the clearing, and he got to his feet and rushed over to Kincaid, almost tripping over Sunmon, [b]"Where did you come from?"[/b] [b]"I woke up back there,"[/b] Kincaid replied, gesturing into the brush behind him, [b]"You got a much nicer clearing than me, that's for sure."[/b] Wyatt laughed and looked down at Sunmon, then back up to Kincaid, an eyebrow raised. [b]"Oh good, you see him too. That's reassuring,"[/b] said Kincaid, [b]"This is Sunmon. Sunmon, Wyatt, Wyatt, Sunmon."[/b] [b]"Pinamon!"[/b] chirped Sunmon, hopping up and down a little hyperactively, and the bird-like Digimon in Wyatt's hair fluttered down to the ground where Sunmon was, and they greeted each other in a bouncy, excitable manner. [b]"Do you have any idea what's going on?"[/b] asked Wyatt, [b]"Or where we are?"[/b] [b]"No idea,"[/b] replied Kincaid, [b]"I just followed Sunmon here, he seemed pretty convincing."[/b] [b]"Same with Pinamon. He said 'the others will be here soon'. I guess you're one of 'the others'!"[/b] [b]"So there's more of us coming? Do you think it's the others from the camp?"[/b] [b]"I guess so, it would be too much of a coincidence if it wasn't."[/b] [b]"We should probably go wait for them then,"[/b] Kincaid suggested. [b]"Yeah, I guess so. Come on, Pinamon, we're gonna go wait for the others,"[/b] Wyatt said, and Pinamon hopped and fluttered back up into his hair. [b]"Don't get any ideas,"[/b] Kincaid warned Sunmon, looking purposefully at the plume of flame on the Digimon's head and then up at his own fringe. Sunmon nodded, an impressive feat when head and body are all the same unit. Kincaid followed Wyatt over to the stones, Sunmon hopping along beside him, and took a seat next to his new friend. Sunmon took the opportunity to hop up onto Kincaid's knee, and sat there quite contentedly, albeit bouncing with hyperactive energy. [b]"I can't wait to see the others!"[/b] the Digimon chirped. [b]"This could be interesting..."[/b] murmured Kincaid.[/font][/size]

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"]Sure, I'll bite. [b]Digidestined[/b] [b]Name:[/b] Joseph Kincaid (usually known by his surname) [b]Age:[/b] 17 [b]Appearance:[/b] Kincaid stands at around 5'8", with a lean, muscular build and a mop of light-brown hair on his head. His eyes are a startling, icy-blue and incredibly piercing, but often dulled slightly by the pair of rectangular, black-rimmed spectables he wears at almost all times. As for clothing, he tends to wear various coloured and patterned t-shirts with blue jeans and black boots, with a black denim jacket over the t-shirt. He also has a wristwatch with a thick, black leather strap on his right wrist, and a metal bracelet on his left wrist, and a silver arrowhead-shaped pendant on a black leather thong around his neck. [b]Background:[/b] Kincaid is friendly enough, but rarely talks about himself. He is outgoing and is constantly making jokes or playing pranks, but in many ways he uses his humour to avoid any great attention being drawn to the rest of his personality. He is slightly hyperactive and tends to feel uncomfortable if he is not the centre of attention, which can be annoying to some people, but ultimately Kincaid is incredibly loyal to those he considers his friends, and will in fact do anything for them. [b]Supplies:[/b] Kincaid was lucky to have his courier bag with him when he entered the Digital World - it contains a plastic bottle of water, a small black leather-bound notebook with pen, two cans of soft drink and a multitude of snacks, and a small, mostly blunt pen-knife which isn't good for cutting much more than twigs. [b]Crest:[/b] The Crest of Loyalty [b]Digimon[/b] In-Training: [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Sunmon.jpg[/IMG] [i]Sunmon[/i] [b]Starlight:[/b] Uses energy from the stars against his opponent Rookie: [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Coronamon.png[/IMG] [i]Coronamon[/i] [b]Coro-knuckle:[/b] Throws multiple punches with fiery fists [b]Corona Flame:[/b] Focuses the power of fire into the forehead and unleashes a ball of flame [b]Petit Prominence:[/b] Charges the opponent with its body engulfed in flames Champion: [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Firamon.png[/IMG] [i]Firamon[/i] [b]Flame Dive:[/b] Winds his whole body with fire and comes down quickly from the sky to tackle [b]Fira Claw:[/b] Winds his front leg(s) with fire and scratches the enemy [b]Fira Bomb:[/b] Uses his full power to shoot fire bombs from the forehead. Ultimate: [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Flaremon.png[/IMG] [i]Flaremon[/i] [b]Crimson Beast-King Wave:[/b] Summons the spirit of the lion and releases a lion-shaped energy wave [b]Red Lion Dance:[/b] Winds his fists and legs with fire and punches and kicks his opponents at a high speed [b]Refreshing Roar: [/b]Turns fire into a devastating shockwave that is released with a roar that dissolve's away the enemy's data Mega: [IMG]http://i1114.photobucket.com/albums/k528/PhilBoothman/Apollomon.png[/IMG] [i]Apollomon[/i] [b]Sol Blaster: [/b]Fires a scorching solar orb generated from the sphere of flames on its back [b]Phoebus Blow:[/b] Attacks with a single, deadly blow from a fist filled with its inner power [b]Arrow of Apollo: [/b]Continuously fires red hot arrows from the shining jewels on its hands[/font][/size]

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"] [b]Name:[/b] Unknown, he is generally only referred to as "O'Riley" [b]Age:[/b] Somewhere in the region of about 320 years old [b]Homeworld/Origin:[/b] O'Riley was born on the planet of[i] Orwellia[/i] as a being of pure energy. His species, the [i]Geians[/i], began as vaguely humanoid creatures, with long necks and gently glowing blue skin, but they evolved much more rapidly than the average species, becoming beings of gas and ultimately beings of pure energy. O'Riley was created when the being that took the traditional place of 'mother' sacrificed herself to split into two separate new beings, one with the characteristics of a 'male' and one with those of a 'female'. As beings of energy, the [i]Geians[/i] existed to maintain balance across the universe, but approximately two hundred years after O'Riley's 'birth', the species began to change once again, this time into beings of pure consciousness, with no physical form whatsoever. However, due to some unknown occurence, O'Riley remained anchored in his energy form, and was unable to ascend with the rest of his race. With his sole purpose being fulfilled by the far more powerful [i]Geians[/i], O'Riley became aimless, drifting across the universe, becoming attached to various species and their cultures before moving on. However, his favourite species and culture was the human race, and he became fascinated in particular with their music. He even took his name from a song written by a human. He has particularly empathised with human emotions, especially the more aggressive ones; this is perhaps due to the fact that the [i]Geians[/i] were an entirely peaceful race, and as such he was ill-equipped to deal with the disappearance of his entire race emotionally. When he came into contact with the very human emotions of anger, rage and aggression, he found that they allowed him to come to terms with his situation. However, a side effect of this is that O'Riley is occasionally an unpleasant person to be around, with a nasty, selfish streak brought about by his loneliness and lack of purpose. [b]Species/Appearance:[/b] [i]Geian[/i]. O'Riley is, tragically, the last of his kind, the rest of his species having ascended beyond the physical world. In his true, pure form, O'Riley exists as a floating orb of light which pulsates and gradually changes colour, the light becoming more intense as he emits sounds. However, this form is impractical for communication with his fellow crewmates, and as such he has taken a human form - in this form he has pale, almost luminescent skin, dark, shaggy hair and blank white eyes. He has a strong build, and wraps himself in coloured energy that takes the form of a black jacket, dark blue jeans and black boots. While he appears vaguely human, he has an uncomfortable habit of moving in a distinctly fluid way, seemingly drifting instead of walking, switching his stance from facing forwards to backwards without physically turning around and moving silently, which means he occasionally appears behind people without them noticing. [b]Special Skills/Abilities:[/b] O'Riley is able to convert sound energy into light and vice versa. This means he can absorb all the light from a room and create a devastating sonic wave, or create dazzling light shows from continuous, rhythmically sustained sound. These abilities exist on a smaller scale as well, allowing him to illuminate surroundings just by whistling, for example. [b]Theme Song:[/b] [center]The Seeker by The Who [media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAbzlj3nf4E[/media] I've looked under chairs I've looked under tables I've tried to find the key To fifty million fables They call me The Seeker I've been searching low and high I won't get to get what I'm after Till the day I die I asked Bobby Dylan I asked The Beatles I asked Timothy Leary But he couldn't help me either They call me The Seeker I've been searching low and high I won't get to get what I'm after Till the day I die People tend to hate me 'Cause I never smile As I ransack their homes They want to shake my hand Focusing on nowhere Investigating miles I'm a seeker I'm a really desperate man I won't get to get what I'm after Till the day I die I learned how to raise my voice in anger Yeah, but look at my face, ain't this a smile? I'm happy when life's good And when it's bad I cry I've got values but I don't know how or why I'm looking for me You're looking for you We're looking in at each other And we don't know what to do They call me The Seeker I've been searching low and high I won't get to get what I'm after Till the day I die[/font][/size][/center]

[quote]This all reminds me a lot of FlashForward, except you're jamming it into five days instead of several months. So like FF meets 24, lol. Sounds interesting enough, though the time frame seems a little intimidating.[/quote] [size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"]I'll admit the idea of people 'stopping' is similar to [i]FlashForward[/i], but the remainder of the RP will not follow a similar format to that show (at least not on purpose, I've never seen it). As for the time frame, it may seem intimidating, but 120 hours is quite a long time - admittedly some characters may be asleep at various points, and obviously people need to eat, but there is no expectation that you have to write in detail about every single event of the day. Similarly, the time frame is important to the story, and each 'day' will last a long time in writing terms, so there will be plenty of room for detail on the important events. It's nice to see some interest in this![/font][/size]

[quote]Well.. I like to be kept guessing! If I can figure out exactly were the plot is going it looses some suspense so I am hoping you have all the twists an turns cleverly hidden instead of the classic M. Night Shyamalamadingdong "twist up ahead" metaphorical roadsigns. d:[/quote] I'm trying - it seems there's a fine line between hiding twists and turns and making them so oblique that they make little to no sense within the story, so hopefully I can keep my balance on that front. As for everyone else, it's a pleasure to have your interest, I hope I can keep it. If this keeps up then hopefully I'll have the Auditions thread up by the end of the week!

[size="2"][font="Lucida Sans Unicode"]Thanks for your response, CaNz, I was worried no-one at all would be interested. This is my first 'suspenseful' RP as well, so I'll be needing all the help I can get from other players. Is there anything in particular you're looking for from the RP? I'm in the process of writing a skeleton of a plot at the moment (I'm 3 days in so far!) and would like to know if there are things people would like to see. Again, thanks very much for your interest, and I hope I can live up to expectations![/font][/size]