Hillan

The Men Of Tomorrow [Hillan x King Kindred]

Everyone knows the stories of the Man of Steel - The Last Son of Krypton, the Tomorrow Man, Metropolis defender and the champion of earth - the paragon of the Justice League. The Big Blue - Superman. Everyone knows that Kal-El is the universes greatest hero, but with every hero is a equally great villain. And in the last Kryptonian's case, it was not a alien from a demonic planet, or a advanced intelligence from his home planet, but a man from his adoptive home. The greatest mind on the planet - Alexander Luthor, their battles started in the end of the 20th century, following the emergence of Superman and Lex's fascination, obsession with the Man of Steel. Their battles are forever etched into history.

Following almost three decades of fighting, they came to an uneasy alliance when Luthor became the president of the united states in 2016. Forcing Superman's Justice League to cooperate with him. He would go on to serve a full two terms - both of which he won with a landslide, being the first politically independent president, a man who belongs to no party his opposition never had a chance.
Undeniably, Kal-El and Lex Luthor would go down in history, not as hero and villain, but as Legends, their names etched into the stones of time and their names echoed through the entire universe.

Yet, this story is not about them.

It's about two young men walking in their footsteps, finding their way in the world.

The World:
The year is 2025, the month is November, and the world is still shaken by the death of former president, billionaire, inventor, philanthropist and Earth's Intergalactic Representative - Lex Luthor. Mr. Luthor died following a long battle with cancer, his body simply unable to keep going. The world has over the past decade had incredible advancements, including energy and fuel advancements that effectively has removed our carbon footprint, advancements in technology and healthcare that has made a lot more people able to live confortably, and great efforts to improve everyone's life here on earth.

Notably, a sizeable amount of Alien lifeforms have started arriving on earth, some legally others not so, thus the alien issue is one ever so present in the public space. Some are afraid of the aliens, other are welcoming of more extraterrestrials on earth.

Emerald City:
Located on the west coast in California Emerald City, the jewel of the west, is a metropolitan area not unlike LA, featuring a blossoming economy, a influx of young people and a vast amount of artists. If you were to go outside into the clubs, you would find painters rubbing elbows with electrical engineers, investment bankers doings shots with metal workers. Street Crime is far from extinct, there's always poor people who are desperate enough to get stupid, or people greedy and cocky enough to think they could outrun the law, besides a few street-leveled both heroes and villains, Emerald City has not had many Superpowered incidents.

Our Heroes:
Julian Luthor / Lex Luthor II.

Kieran Kent / Kor El.

VIGILANCE: Sanctuary

Don't let the Joshbugs bite. (Get it?)

Hope you're better now Wade.

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

Will will Rita admit her love for Kieran?

@King Kindred

Right after she's strangled him and it's too late to fess' up.

Modern tragedy, I tell you.

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

Julian Luthor:

Since the passing of his biological template, his father. Julian had been splitting his time equally between metropolis and the academy. He had more than enough loose ends to tie up at Lexcorp, and the phone calls, video chats and dinners with politicians who were looking to find out if Julian was planning on following in President Luthor's footsteps. He was exhausted, barely having any time for himself. But what time he had, he spent in the workshop. The ARC session had been cut short, but he did find himself being outgunned by just about everyone. He might have a higher IQ than the entirety of MENSA combined, but that didn't help him particularly much against the likes of Stan and Mrs. Rexen. He had to come up with something new if he would be serious about the whole Superhero thing.

In the workshop, he was working on a few different projects. Modifications to his arms being pretty high on the list, but he was also experimenting with NTH metal that Lexcorp had scourged over the years. It was the biggest benefit of being in charge of the shadiest organization on the planet - they had a whole lot of stuff. He was making a belt, one that would in theory allow him to fly, at the very least levitate. Ideally, it would be used to make a energy less alternative to the rocket boots and power armor Lex wore, more reliable, no risk of Kryptonite Cancer.

Leaning over his shoulder, he looked at the white piece of cloth being thrown over two glass cases, inside were his surprise for the dress-up at the dance. Even with the weight of Lexcorp on his shoulders, Julian still had to find time to relax and be a teenager, and not just the second coming of Anti-Christ.

Rita Rexen

Furious, aggrevated and completely fucking pissed off. That was how Rita had felt since the ARC session, all of that pent up anger boiling inside of her. She was close to snapping someone's neck, and when some poor kid bumped into her in the hallway, she purposely pushed her shoulder against his, sending the poor guy to the floor with a dislocated arm. To make matters worse, she was out of cigarettes, nicotine withdrawal was making her even more ticked off.

She was in the gym area, dressed in her white tanktop, punching the ultra-durable punching bag, suspended in the air with energy particles, the bag capable of handling hits from Superman, tech possible thanks to the combined genius of Ray Palmer and Michael Holt, Rita had been told. They struck her as just run off the mill nerds, they never had interested her particularly much.

She hit the bag harder. Each hit making the apparatus shake, and with each hit, she imagined her fists weren't hitting the unknown alloy, but the face of the youngest member of the Superman dynasty. The newest person to bear the shield on their chest. Thinking he's larger than life, better than everyone else just because of said shield.

It pissed her off so damn much.

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

I haven't slept yet, it's still Friday for me.

Loophole.

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

I don't think Wraith intended it as a "That's all folks" more so as in "Go fucking nuts."

It's a super school RP. Nobody's ever done these because we're interested in the overarching plot. You join them because you're interested in the character interactions. It's the best kind of game to make player driven if the GM is too busy. So, basically, get to posting, it'll be fine.

And to not be called too much of a hypocrite, I'll be posting by Friday at the latest.

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

Oh shit, this is still alive.

Anyone interested in some Rexen / Luthor posts?

VIGILANCE: Sanctuary

---

Marcus Weston

---

Like that, once the two had emerged from his vehicle, things went sideways, before they had had a chance to talk to anyone, besides greetings, they were met with the sound of screaching tires as a truck - the same truck Marcus had seen Landin in, be flipped upside down. A fight had started, Marcus and Gareth had arrived to warn the convoy, so, here they were. Holding his side, Marcus nodded for Gareth to try and get behind cover - Gar had done more than enough already. Finishing the last swig of alcohol from the bottle in his hand, Marcus eyes lit up with a emerald light for a moment as he launched the bottle a impressive 150 meters, the bottle hitting a biker with a sawed of shotgon so hard in the face that he was knocked unconscious. Ducking under gunfire, Marcus reached for the gun he carried on his back, in his belt. Usually a holster was placed on his shoulder - but he had gotten sloppy lately. Getting out the gun, he rolled out from cover, aiming the gun at one of the hillbilly's shoulders.

Pulling the trigger, he was met with a unsatisfied 'click' noise. "What th- Oh." Marcus mumbled to himself, realizing he hadn't replaced the magazine in the gun with a new clip - he was out of ammo. Having seen his eyes light up, two bikers rushed at him, armed with tazers and crowbars. Marcus had gotten beaten enough for today.

Twirling the hold of the gun - the finger on the trigger the gun spun around in his hand, letting him get a firm grip on the barrel of the 1911 Colt. The biker swung at Marcus with the crowbar - dodging by crouching, he hit the man in the back of the knee with the gun, using the grip as a weapon. The second biker came, tazer coming at him. Marcus quickly disarmed him by smacking the grip of the gun against his wrist - hard enough to send out the sound of cracking bones. The biker cried out in pain, but was quickly silenced by Marcus hitting him right in the head, knocking him out cold.

The first biker came at him, having recovered his balance since the hype's first attack. "Filthy fucking Hype!" The biker shouted, swinging at Marcus again. He dodged, put his shoulder towards the man and rolled the man over his back, sending the heavier biker to the ground with a loud thud, as Marcus came down onto his chest, knee first, holding him in place - the barrel of his gun between the biker's teeth. Seeing the sudden look of terror in the man's eyes, Marcus quickly hit him upon the jaw, knocking him out. Getting of the biker, he sat down in the sand, his heart pounding.

Looking to the side, he saw another man approaching a hype with a shotgun - the gun fired, buckshot piercing the air. In a green wave, the pieces of lead all clogged together, turning into one sphere, levitating in the air, a few inches from the chest of target. Changing the gravitational direction on the ball of lead, Marcus sent it right back at the shooter, hitting him in the face. His powers were lacking the exact nature of a telekinetic, but they had many applications.

Marcus cravled onto his hand and feet, dashing behind cover when more gunfire erupted. Hiding behind a vehicle that was not his own, he clutched his gun. His instincts might have dulled, but they weren't gone. He still kept track of the entire battlefield, he knew what was happening. In the back of his head. His subconscious recognized several of the people on the Hype-side, either because they attended PRCU, or because he had kept track of them himself. Yet, his concious mind was making no real connections, the only one he for certain knew was Gareth, and he had no clue what Corrigan's powers were.

Remember to talk more on the next roadtrip.

VIGILANCE: Sanctuary

<Snipped quote by Wade Wilson>

@Tyler

VIGILANCE: Sanctuary

---

Marcus Weston

The Harlot Cafe, Cajun District, Point Bordeaux

With help from @GreenGrenade.

---

The man had walked over to Marcus and lifted him up, introducing himself as Gareth Corrigan. Marcus grinned when he was told that they were even. "I'll be fine, all my bleeding is internal. Name's Marcus." He off-hand mentioned to Gareth, as the two headed out of the alley, but, only when they were a few meters away from the alley, a truck pulled up with inbred rednecks - the worst of the lot was a dude named Landin, Marcus had heard of him over the years. He was trained in a speraratist guerilla training camp for a few years, always harboring a strong Hyperhuman-Hate, they talked about a convoy, something he had heard about. "Stop." Marcus told Gareth, as the man let go of his arm, leaning against the wall, listening to what Landin shouted at Remy - their exchange wasn't long, and the sound of sirens coming for the men in the alley filled the air, forcing Landin and his boys to move out.

Marcus looked dryly up at Gareth, he had refused to answer his question previously, but he was more or less forced to now. "Yeah, I am, MARS-Type." He said, low-key, making sure others couldn't hear it. Marcus grunted, pointing towards the other street. "We should head that way, around the corner is where my car is at. We have to warn the convoy."

"Yeah," said Gareth, nodding. "Okay." He began walking again before stopping himself, turning back to look at Marcus - his eyes were blank, near emotionless, but his voice told of something different - concern. "Are you okay to walk?" Nodding in response, Marcus leaned against the wall before stabalizing himself, walking towards the turn of the road, making sure to getting out of the area before the cops would start looking for them, he had already been in plenty of trouble with the P.B.P.D. Marcus shifted his weight, holding his sides while heading towards the parking lot on the other side of the harlot cafe, where his Mustang Shelby GT stood, the slate grey paintjob with the black stripes reacing over the hood to the wing made it a beautiful car.

Marcus opened the door, as he nodded for Gareth to get in the passenger side, once he started the car, he pointed to the glove compartment. "There's pain killers in there, I need some, you?" Marcus asked, digging through trash near the handbreak, finding about half a bottle of fireball alcohol, he screwed the cork off and took a big swig, following it with three pills. "All right. We could play catch-up with the inbreds, or we could try and find the convoy. You much of a detective, Gary?" Marcus asked as he backed the car onto the road, driving in the same direction they had seen Landin and his boys go to.

"You could say that," replied Gareth, handing Marcus the painkillers, not taking any himself. "I used to be Detroit Police. Worked there as detective for a few years before my wife died." Placing the painkillers back in the glove compartment, his eyes glazed over, as if he was getting lost in memory.

"Yeah, I was in law enforcement, too." Marcus mentioned, one hand on the steering wheel, the other taking another swig from the bottle.

"I say we go to the convoy. Maybe we could warn them." Gareth paused, thinking. "It can't be too well hidden... I'm willing to bet they stopped somewhere on the outskirts of the city. Do you know anywhere that might be an ideal spot? Some factory, a farm, maybe?"

Marcus nodded. "Yeah, there's a pretty big place on the outskirts of town, Old Foster's Plantation. It's where I'd go. Got a good view of the surroundings."

"Might as well check it out."

Marcus nodded, and with that, the two were off towards the plantation. After a few minutes drive - it couldn't have been longer than fifteen - they exited the city. The plantation came into sight a few minutes more, and Gareth and Marcus feasted their eyes to the display on hand: an enormous collection of cars, vans, trucks and motorcycles, all parked near the variety of people scattered on the property. They exited the car as fast as their injuries allowed them, making their way through the crowd of vehicles. "Excuse me," said Gareth, approaching a portly young man, "Can you take us to whoever's in charge?" He paused at the man's distrustful stare. "We're - we're Hypes." At that the man leapt into action, leading Gareth and Marcus to where they wanted to go.