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8 mos ago
Current i think i need to get better at time management
9 mos ago
Had a cup of coffee, now I’m just feeling more tired. WTF?
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9 mos ago
Finally got a new-gen XBOX! Feeling super happy today.
4 likes
11 mos ago
just found out today i have 1500 hours in the sims 4. what the fuck
5 likes
1 yr ago
Got the first dose of the Pfizer vaccine today! I feel great.
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I'm not sure on which bending type I'd like to go for- air or water seem to appeal to my initial character concept but fire could work, too. I'll have to get started on some character work and see.
Interested! This sounds super cool, I love Avatar RPs.
Carmen, too, stood in awe of Jane’s incredible costume. She went slack-jawed, gazing up at the very tall suit of power armor. Jesus, that was so cool. Bev, though, seemed to think it was even cooler, because she promptly tumbled onto the ground like some sort of Victorian woman taken by the vapors. Carmen blinked, staring dumbly at the situation while Will and Ms. Rachel managed to get the Tinker back onto her feet. She had half a mind to ask Bev if she was okay, but other things were on her mind- understandably- as they walked back into the main room to confront the Director.

He looked… Carmen couldn’t quite figure out how he looked as he told them what was going to happen. Not afraid, but he wasn’t confident in them. Not at all. The revelation wasn’t unexpected, but it soured her mood, making her wring her hands. Maybe the others didn’t know what they were doing after all. Could they be just as clueless and weak as her? If so, they were all about to meet a grisly end- or at least get stabbed. If she got stabbed- no, if she even had a broken bone, her mom would make her quit before things even really got started. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? She didn’t wnat to be here. But despite herself, Carmen started thinking of possible ways they might succeed. She had been to the museum on class trips once or twice, but didn’t know the layout as well as she’d like. And this was such a big team, so many powers to balance… she looked at everybody else, assessing. If they wanted to succeed, they’d need to work together.

Carmen turned her gaze to the door as it clicked, surprise appearing on her face as two more faces walked in. She thought she was the last one! Neither introduced themselves. Both looked to be much older than her- in line with the others, she supposed. One inquired about being late, while the other looking to the side, seeming uncomfortable. She could relate. But that didn’t matter much to her right now.

She watched Caiden’s performance with a degree of fascination. The other boy thoroughly intimidated her. His smile hadn’t gone unnoticed earlier, but he still seemed so scary. His tone was always biting, his words smug. But his power was cool as heck. And complicated. The uses, though! She might have to speak with him about it after all this.

Carmen cleared her throat, electing to say some more about her power.
“Car- V. Again. Um. I already kind of explained the basics, but I do object conjuration. They said I’m a Striker, but a really weird one so it’s not important… I just got them a bit ago, so I’m not too sure, but my power has a sort of limit, I guess. The amount of energy conjuring an object takes depends on the specificity of the creation, how much I need it, and its complexity. And size. Sometimes. You’d think specificity and complexity are the same, really, but they’re not, complexity just means making something as complicated as a computer would tire me out but specificity means the more I specify, like, for example, I want a mauve fuzzy scru- oh. That’s not relevant. Sorry! I can’t make things that I can’t visualize exactly and my objects disappear within thirty minutes to a few hours-” As she was speaking, Carmen’s scrunchie disappeared in a sudden burst of smoke, her curly hair floating around her shoulders. “Gah! Oh, sorry…” She hurriedly conjured and put it back up again. It was green, now- she hadn’t cared about the color. “Sometimes, if I don’t specify, it kind of just makes things up. And as for me, I’m, um. Nothing special. I’m not strong, I’m not a good fighter… I can run fast, and shooting a gun and tasing people are pretty self-explanatory, right?” Carmen finished her garbled speech, shifting on her feet.


Location: The Hotspot Interacting with:Viktor (@FunnyGuy), Aleen'a (@baraquiel), Zach (@Crimson Flame)



Alisa practically beamed at Viktor’s compliment, leaning in with the rest of them to look at her own work. She felt like she was really starting to get good at this lately, despite all their setbacks. Maybe she wasn’t so bad at this after all? Alisa did frown at Aleen’a’s comment, contemplating. “I don’t know… even if there was, it probably wouldn’t be the whole staff. And I doubt any of them are very involved. It’s worth pursuing, but let’s try not to draw too much attention to ourselves.”

Her chai latte arrived in a little plastic cup, a straw sticking out the top. Alisa said her thank yous and took a sip, swishing it around in her mouth before grimacing and swallowing it. It wasn’t bad- not at all- but liquids always felt so weird. She highly suspected that the only reason people liked them so much was because of the feeling of hydration, but they only coated her tongue in a strange film and sloshed around inside of her. She passed it to Aleen’a. “You can have it.”

Something near the entrance caught Alisa’s eye. Was that… oh. Oh, it had to be. She nudged Viktor with her elbow and tapped Aleen’a’s leg with her foot, gesturing to the door, where a young couple was walking in. The young woman exactly matched the description MArtian Manhunter and given to them. “That’s them, she whispered. She stared outside the window nonchalantly, listening to their conversation. What she heard didn’t surprise her. The boy seemed to be infatuated with the girl. Hadn’t she seen him around the center? Alisa wasn’t sure.

Just then, something else surprising happened- Zach walked in. She kicked him under the table as soon as he sat. “Shhh! Shut up! I thought you were on your date!” she hissed. They all knew he hadn’t actually been investigating a ‘lead’.

Location: The Hotspot Interacting with:Viktor (@FunnyGuy), Aleen'a (@baraquiel)



Alisa sat beside Viktor at their little corner booth, sketching an outline of the space in her favorite notebook. She held up the notebook while she drew so no one but the three of them could see it. Her hands moved the pencil across the page with practiced skill, building a picture of the building while she had an eye trained on their surroundings. It was nice here, quiet and quaint. Classical music played demurely from the speakers, and patrons spoke with an almost reverent hush. It was difficult to believe that someone- many someones- had disappeared from here.

It was also difficult to believe how well their mission had been going so far. So well, in fact, that Alisa had begun waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something awful had to happen soon, if their other missions had been anything to go off of. But this one seemed to mostly be… sleuthing, if anything. It was kind of exhilarating. She had fully expected Viktor to disapprove of her sudden information reveal to Cecile, but, to her surprise, he had done something similar, and hadn’t been very upset. And now, they were working with another group of teenagers, trying to thwart a kidnapper. She wouldn’t mention it to anyone out of fear of being seen as callous, but it was all exciting.

“i’ll just have an iced chai latte, please,” Alisa told the waitress. She wasn’t particularly in the mood for anything to drink or eat, but it would look strange if she didn’t get anything. She had chosen to wear a jean skirt, a white crop top, and black Converse for this particular operation, tying her hair back into a French braid as well. She thought she looked nice.

As she had that thought and as the waitress walked away, Alisa slid the 3D map of the cafe towards Viktor and Aleen’a. ”I think here, here, and here would be the best places to hide cameras, and here, here, and here for mics. Objections?” she murmured. She pointed the tip of her eraser to six locations. The ones for the cameras were by the door, behind the counter on the menu sign, and by the back door. The ones for mics were various tables where Alisa thought they might be most likely to sit. The kidnapper wouldn’t want her face seen by everyone, right?

Alisa shot a glance towards Kassy and Ja. “Whoever goes back there to download the footage should plant the camera when they do. We were thinking it would be Kassy, right?”
@Crusader Lord Our Discord is only for accepted players. They’ll send one once you’ve made a sheet and you’ve been accepted!
Carmen fought the urge to grit her teeth at both Morie and Bev’s responses to her display. She didn’t flinch when Bev punched her arm, although it did visibly startle it. Instead, she kept that same nervous, quavering smile plastered on her face. “Thanks,” she whispered back to the both of them. The only sign of her frustration was the slight tightening of her knuckles on her pants.

“Erm.” The only person who ended up asking about her power was that Andy kid. Carmen wasn’t too surprised- he seemed the curious sort. Still, as she was worrying about what the Director was talking about, Carmen wasn’t in the mood for an all-in explanation. No, no, and no. Sorry.”

A few moments later, Fashionista appeared and said hello, guiding them to yet another mysterious opening in the wall. It was cool, but why couldn’t they just have normal doors? Fashionista’s exuberance was comforting. In their early meetings, Carmen had found herself gravitating to the woman (she seemed to take her seriously, if nothing else), and that hadn’t changed here. Carmen shuffled to the changing rooms along with the rest of them, her anxiety steadily rising. They were changing into costumes unplanned, and both directors seemed rather on edge. They had to be going into combat- there just wasn’t another explanation. They entered the Changing Rooms, which was yet another room that looked as though it belonged in a prison, and they were given keycards and directed to the lockers containing their costumes.

She took her keycard and went to her personal locker, changing into her costume quickly. Carmen stared at herself in the mirror and cringed. It was an awful costume. Despite Fashionista’s best efforts, she looked like a cross between a member of Swedish pop sensation ABBA and Hannibal. It wasn’t a good look! Her costume featured a long, sleeveless black and gold-embroidered red tunic with a bullet proof vest with a red ‘V’ emblazoned on it overlaying it, simple black leggings that were reinforced with some padding in important places, black boots, and… a black hockey mask with some gold splattered on it. She also wore fingerless gloves and had her hair down. In shirt: embarrassing. Stepping outside was a labor, but she did it anyways. She fingered the small utility belt of her costume as she stared at Beverly.

God, everybody else looked so cool. Carmen tried her best not to nerd out. “Object generation with some caveats, yeah,” she muttered. She’d have to explain her power at some point, but that seemed the simplest explanation for it she had.

mmm
Much to Carmen’s relief, the chatter continued on without interruption upon her entrance. Only a few waves, some surprised looks, and a singular “hello” were thrown her way. The director didn’t even seem to notice her. … Or maybe he did, since he threw her a pair of earbuds. Carmen fumbled with them for a moment, glancing around as she sat on the couch. What were these for? Everyone else seemed to be already wearing them, so she put them in her ears. Were they a headset? Like in spy movies? They didn’t seem to block any sound, so she decided that was it. Headset. Right.

Carmen waved back to Andy, not quite wanting to interrupt the very animated conversation going on. They seemed to be talking about… who they were? How they got here? There was a slew of introductions and one very cringy thing said by Andy (Carmen could barely keep from rolling her eyes). But she elected not to respond, instead sitting on her couch. She had expected the Director to be angry with her for being late, but he seemed to be nonchalant, which was good. There was confetti everywhere, which was strange. It didn’t look like they had thrown a welcome party.

An older girl sat next to Carmen, followed by her… friend, maybe? Bev and Morie. “Mine’s Carmen. It’s… nice to meet you!” She held out a hand for a polite handshake. One seemed enthusiastic and bubbly, and the other seemed quiet. A strange mix, but they seemed to be nice. They had an interesting look in their eyes. Was that… no, it was pity. An ugly feeling settled in Carmen’s stomach, twisting. Out of the corner of her eye, a boy gave a wide smile to her- in direct contrast to how cold he’d been acting to everybody else. In the Director-imposed silence, she contemplated her position in this room of wannabe heroes.

God, she might as well have been wearing pigtails and holding a teddy bear for the way they all looked at her. They were being so nice, but it wasn’t comforting. It was mocking. They didn’t intend it that way, but she felt it like nails on a chalkboard. It didn’t show much on her face, but she still felt that twisting. She was familiar with that feeling. She’s so young to be going through this. Oh, and she’s so young… What did they think she had done to get here? Why did they think she was here? She wasn’t like them. She wasn’t a criminal. She hadn’t been forced to do anything by anyone.

Well, maybe she had. It hadn’t been that much of a choice. Her mom had called the PRT, arranged a meeting, and signed the papers, all without Carmen’s input. She had known but didn’t argue, wasn’t asked for her opinion. Maybe she was less like them than she had thought. These kids were heroes, people with hero names and powers they understood. And she was a thirteen-year-old girl who had been signed up and thrown into a world she didn’t understand. While she was having her small crisis, Carmen listened to Director Fukuda’s phone conversation with an open ear. She intuitively knew to shut up whenever adults spoke, so she did, keeping her lips zipped and ears peeled. What he said was… concerning. Her anxiety spiked. What on Earth was going on?

“... Things are getting interesting? Mr. Fukuda, is something wrong? Are- are we getting attacked? By villains?” If Carmen had further dissected his conversation she would have understood that it likely wasn’t that, but the idea concerned her. God, fighting? This soon? She didn’t even know how to fight with her power yet.

“Um, but, since I think I didn’t get to it… I’m Carmen Foster, but I guess I’ll be V to everybody else. I’m 13, I go to Redline Middle, my mom signed me up for this, and my power lets me make stuff. Objects. I'll show you.” Carmen stood as she said it. With an almost unnoticeable flash of light and smoke, a basketball appeared in Carmen’s hands. She chucked it at the opposite wall, letting it bounce around the room, but then curled her fingers and watched it vanish into that same fog. She sat down on the couch again, watching the room warily for reactions. People had been impressed with her power. Would they be?

Carmen couldn’t stop staring at the oven clock. 5:55. Director Fukuda- who had sounded very serious- had given a deadline of 6:00. The Fosters’ apartment was close to the PRT building, but it was rush hour, and she wouldn’t get there by 6:00. Frick. Her mom was late. Why was she late? Carmen could have walked herself, but nooo. She wasn’t allowed to walk there by herself. She had to get a ride. From her mom. No one else was getting a ride from their mom! Older kids got to walk, or take a taxi, or may even drive… so unfair.

She was still in her school uniform. The crest of Redline Middle School was emblazoned on the right side of her blue polo, and she wore khakis underneath and a gray puffy jacket on top. As she waited for her mom, Carmen had packed a backpack for the Wards headquarters, too. Hadn’t he mentioned there were beds there? She had the red backpack slung over her shoulders. She had also tidied the house, and packed herself an Uncrustable and some carrot sticks for dinner later. She had been busy. But now, Carmen stood by the door until…

Her mother walked in. Valerie was a short yet imposing woman, wearing a boxy police uniform. She looked similar to her daughter- dark hair, dark skin. “Carmen, come on, go, get in the car, you’re late!” Her mom rushed her out the door and down to the car- a police car. Carmen groaned.

“Seriously? We’re taking the squad car?”

“Jonas has the other car. Get in. I won’t have you getting fired on your first day.”

Carmen resisted the very true rebuttal that she was already late and climbed into the front seat. It was always disorienting to find herself in the front seat of a cop car, and even more disorienting to know she was headed towards her own version of law enforcement. As they pulled out of the driveway, Carmen fiddled with her hair. Had she forgotten to get the hair tie out of her room? Dangit! With a kind of ease, she summoned a purple scrunchie from thin air and used it to put her hair up. It would dissipate later, but she would find a more permanent solution. Her mom’s gaze slid towards her, silently judging.

“You know, Carm,” she started, and Carmen braced herself for whatever she was going to say, “I want you to understand something. These other kids you’ll be working with are trouble. They’re delinquents, criminals. I don’t want you getting mixed up in all their business. Keep your distance and don’t get comfortable.”

Carmen shifted in her seat, eyes on her mom. “How do you know that? I thought our identities were supposed to be secret.”

“They are! Don’t worry. Just… most parahumans are trouble. Something about the… the powers and psychology or something. I don’t know.”

“But I’m a parahuman,” Carmen said. It was something that had taken her a lot of time to come to terms with it. She was pretty sure she still hadn’t come to terms with it. Her power seemed so tiny, but getting it had changed her life. She wasn’t sure if that change was good or bad, but it was change.

“Well, yes, but…” Valerie trailed off, looking resolutely into the street. “You’re different.” She left it at that, and Carmen frowned.

“I don’t-”

“Jesus, this traffic,” her mom interrupted. There was in fact, a long line of cars trailing through their icy downtown, but Carmen couldn’t see how that was relevant. Although she was going to be late, and that was a terrifying thought. “Hm. Can’t have you be late Let’s fix this.” Without warning, her mom flicked the sirens on and began to speed up, other cars making way for them and their supposed emergency.

Carmen flattened herself against her seat. “MOM!” she screamed.
“Seriously?! This is SO embarrassing!”

Valerie laughed. “But you’re not as late as you would’ve been, are you?” They pulled up to the PRT Headquarters at exactly 6 o’clock. People turned their heads, spooked as the cop car with the sirens pulled up and then turned them off. A few PRT officers turned their heads, making their way over to the car. “Get going, Carm. I’ll see you at home- curfew is 9:30, you understand? Don’t let that Fukuda guy keep you later, or I swear to God he is dead. It’s not a school night but you need your sleep. Oh, and be careful-”

Carmen stepped out of the car, still flushed. “Bye. See you later.” She huffed and headed into the building, red backpack slung over her shoulder. She checked her watch. 6:01. Frick! She sped up, walking to the receptionist’s desk with purpose. What was it that she was supposed to say? Something strange… She thought for a moment as the receptionist stared at her curiously. She had seen a ton of teenagers today and knew what was coming. “Hi, I’m here because, um… my mom got bit by a rat and it turned her into a Herald.” That sounded right.

The receptionist sighed. “You’re the last one, kid.” She buzzed up an officer to escort Carmen down to the Wards headquarters.

A PRT officer showed up in full tactical gear and grabbed Carmen’s shoulder, guiding her to the elevator. She almost immediately felt uncomfortable. “Hi.” No response. The elevator ticked down, level after level, including going beyond the prison sector (which made Carmen’s heart rate pick up- she was not going to jail this was NOT a Scared Straight thing) and eventually stopped on the floor below.

Carmen stepped out of the elevator, looking thoroughly nervous. Just from observations, she could tell she was the shortest, youngest, and most ordinary person in the room. All these people were genuine teenagers. Oh boy! And they were all looking at her. She gave a cheery little wave, flashing a braces-filled smile, and tried to mosey on over to the couch, avoiding attention from the Director. Maybe he’d think she was there the whole time?
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