"Callin'."
Clay began to frantically mash the buttons of Max's phone. He didn't have one, and wasn't entirely familiar with the interface enough to find contacts, so he simply went to the dialpad. He froze for a second, and squinted. With a gulp, he pressed his grimy thumb onto the keypad, mouthing out his actions as he went. "Nine, one, one." He placed the phone to his ear, hoping that he had pressed the right keys on the unfamiliar device. All he heard was static. Dissatisfied, he jammed the phone into his pocket, cursing his lack of reception.
When he looked back up, things had changed. Mario was holding a strange glowing cube, Max was talking to the alien, and the alien was offering them... A gift? Without a moment to think, Clay instinctively walked up to the three, taking the cube from Mario. It had surprising weight to it, and he stopped himself from inspecting it, fearing it would fire some extraterrestrial larvae into his chest.
"What's it do?" He asked, handing it over to the alien, just as Mario had. "Is it lasers 'n shit? You giving us like, space-age thinking like from that Lucy movie? Superpowers?" He tilted his head slightly, still too stunned to respond as the others were, more realistically.
Little Bill
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User has no bio, yet i consume the greedy. i rob the thieves. i kill the killers. nobody wants me. if you don't have me, nobody will want you. what's my name?
Most Recent Posts
I'll be trying to get a post up this week.
Also, has the idea of a posting rotation been brought up?
Also, has the idea of a posting rotation been brought up?
Until further notice, this'll be put on hold.
AmazinglyVivid said
Deadbeat and I discussed it, and decided that the best way to retcon Clay into things, while still leaving Jason alive and existing, is to just say that the latter ran off as soon as they heard the crash. He ran into Clay, who found out from him where Max was and arrived on the scene not long after. After Deadbeat posts, I'll be putting up the post where the War-Prince explains the yeerks and offers to give them their morphing powers. Then, the fun can really start!
I like to think that during the questioning, Clay was using his best Dark Knight voice. Otherwise, Clay's first post is done, so I'll leave the yeerks and whatnot to Vivid. Really stoked to get the ball rolling!
Clay's night time walks weren't eventful, for the most part. He lived in the trailer park on the edge of town, and so most of his walks were through the forests that bordered the trailer park, silently trodding through the thick underbrush or resting on old rotting logs. As much of a youthful maverick as he was, he enjoyed the quiet of the wilderness. It was just him and his thoughts. No parents, no teachers, no classmates. Just crickets.
Tonight, on the other hand, was different. His walk brought him near the hospital, rather than his usual forest. He sat at a bench outside of Carmine's Soft-Serve, a 24/7 ice cream parlor that Clay would occasionally visit with his mom after work. After all, it was only up the street from the hospital where she worked, and offered fairly cheap prices.
Sipping on a can of Mr. Pibb, Clay idly scanned the street. Even with his town's low population, outside of the road to the trailer park, there wasn't ever a street that was totally empty. Even in the dead of night, there would always be someone walking home from a bar, or going to a friend's house, or walking home from a late shift. In this case, there wasn't just one or two people shuffling through the night -- There were five. With a burp, Clay crushed his empty can and tossed it to the ground. He squinted for a moment, almost as if he had recognized a voice. And not just any voice.
He stood up, and began lumbering towards the group. He could make out Max, for certain. There were a few other figures with her, some tall, some short. He decided to pay his friend a visit. All things considered, he hadn't seen Max in two days, and to Clay and Max, that was almost unheard of. He stayed a safe distance from them, about twenty yards, not yet sure of who she was hanging out with. Best case scenario, she had tagged along with some of her friends who didn't know him. Worst case scenario, she had tagged along with some of her friends who did. By the time he reached about twenty yards, they made a sharp turn right. This made him pause for a second. It was the abandoned construction sight.
"Nothin' goes on there but bad news." Clay thought to himself. He hurried his pace. Quickly, his thoughts turned sour. "What if that one crackhead's there?" He muttered. "What if Maxie tries hoppin' that barbed wire?" He muttered a bit louder. He gulped, nearing the turn into the abandoned construction yard. They were out of sight in the dusk, but he could still hear them. At first, there was only the sound of their chatting and footsteps. And then, a bang.
It was loud, almost like a gunshot, but prolonged. The ground underneath his feet rumbled, and he grabbed on to the nearest wall to steady himself. It took him a moment to reassess the situation, as if he had been shaken awake. It was too loud to have been something fallen, and the air smelled like smoke. Something terrible had happened. Before he could react, Jason came sprinting out of the entrance, and ran face-first into Clay. Although he already seemed terrified, Clay noticed far too late, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt.
"Where?" Clay barked through his teeth.
"Where what?!" Jason stammered, frantically looking back and forth. He looked like he had just seen something too dire to comprehend, and was as white as a sheet.
"Max. You were walking with Max, and you came in here." He growled. Clay was panicking, underneath his grim exterior. He needed to know where his friend was, above all else. The only way he knew how to find out was the way he did everything else -- Threats and violence.
"P-Past the barbed wire fence, there was a plane crash, an-"
Before Jason could finish his sentence, Clay was off. He had come this way before, and didn't need any ways around the various obstacles. He threw his denim jacket on top of the fence, covering the barbed wire, and scaled it as quickly as he could. He tumbled in his landing, rolling on the dirt for a moment, only to spring right back up to continue his sprint. There were very few things Clay wouldn't joke about, but the safety of Max was one of them.
It didn't take long to find her. Out of breath, Clay's charge through barrels and crates led him to the scene of the crash in no time at all. With adrenaline still coursing through his system, he took note of his surroundings in an instant. Max was there. There were kids from school with her as well, although he wasn't completely familiar with them. Smoke filled the air, and there was some sort of wrecked aircraft in front of them. And in front of all of that was... A centaur?
Catching his breath, the dumbfounded teen took a few steps forward, making his presence known to the group. He couldn't match any of the faces to names, but he was sure he had seen them in school before. The centaur, unsurprisingly, he had not.
"Hell's going on here?"
Tonight, on the other hand, was different. His walk brought him near the hospital, rather than his usual forest. He sat at a bench outside of Carmine's Soft-Serve, a 24/7 ice cream parlor that Clay would occasionally visit with his mom after work. After all, it was only up the street from the hospital where she worked, and offered fairly cheap prices.
Sipping on a can of Mr. Pibb, Clay idly scanned the street. Even with his town's low population, outside of the road to the trailer park, there wasn't ever a street that was totally empty. Even in the dead of night, there would always be someone walking home from a bar, or going to a friend's house, or walking home from a late shift. In this case, there wasn't just one or two people shuffling through the night -- There were five. With a burp, Clay crushed his empty can and tossed it to the ground. He squinted for a moment, almost as if he had recognized a voice. And not just any voice.
He stood up, and began lumbering towards the group. He could make out Max, for certain. There were a few other figures with her, some tall, some short. He decided to pay his friend a visit. All things considered, he hadn't seen Max in two days, and to Clay and Max, that was almost unheard of. He stayed a safe distance from them, about twenty yards, not yet sure of who she was hanging out with. Best case scenario, she had tagged along with some of her friends who didn't know him. Worst case scenario, she had tagged along with some of her friends who did. By the time he reached about twenty yards, they made a sharp turn right. This made him pause for a second. It was the abandoned construction sight.
"Nothin' goes on there but bad news." Clay thought to himself. He hurried his pace. Quickly, his thoughts turned sour. "What if that one crackhead's there?" He muttered. "What if Maxie tries hoppin' that barbed wire?" He muttered a bit louder. He gulped, nearing the turn into the abandoned construction yard. They were out of sight in the dusk, but he could still hear them. At first, there was only the sound of their chatting and footsteps. And then, a bang.
It was loud, almost like a gunshot, but prolonged. The ground underneath his feet rumbled, and he grabbed on to the nearest wall to steady himself. It took him a moment to reassess the situation, as if he had been shaken awake. It was too loud to have been something fallen, and the air smelled like smoke. Something terrible had happened. Before he could react, Jason came sprinting out of the entrance, and ran face-first into Clay. Although he already seemed terrified, Clay noticed far too late, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt.
"Where?" Clay barked through his teeth.
"Where what?!" Jason stammered, frantically looking back and forth. He looked like he had just seen something too dire to comprehend, and was as white as a sheet.
"Max. You were walking with Max, and you came in here." He growled. Clay was panicking, underneath his grim exterior. He needed to know where his friend was, above all else. The only way he knew how to find out was the way he did everything else -- Threats and violence.
"P-Past the barbed wire fence, there was a plane crash, an-"
Before Jason could finish his sentence, Clay was off. He had come this way before, and didn't need any ways around the various obstacles. He threw his denim jacket on top of the fence, covering the barbed wire, and scaled it as quickly as he could. He tumbled in his landing, rolling on the dirt for a moment, only to spring right back up to continue his sprint. There were very few things Clay wouldn't joke about, but the safety of Max was one of them.
It didn't take long to find her. Out of breath, Clay's charge through barrels and crates led him to the scene of the crash in no time at all. With adrenaline still coursing through his system, he took note of his surroundings in an instant. Max was there. There were kids from school with her as well, although he wasn't completely familiar with them. Smoke filled the air, and there was some sort of wrecked aircraft in front of them. And in front of all of that was... A centaur?
Catching his breath, the dumbfounded teen took a few steps forward, making his presence known to the group. He couldn't match any of the faces to names, but he was sure he had seen them in school before. The centaur, unsurprisingly, he had not.
"Hell's going on here?"
Clay's relationships are done, I'll get started on the post shortly. Since Clay's default opinion of people is "Dislike" (Imagine he's one of those Sims who starts with -25 relationship points for everyone), let me know if everything's alright, or if you'd wanna change something.
What's your name?
Clay. If it's like, y'know, a formal-type name, like for a form or some shit, then Clay Donnel. Middle initial J. Most people call me Clay, 'cept for Mrs. Silver, she calls me C.J. I think it's retarded. Who the fuck wants to be called letters, y'know? What son-of-a-bitch sits down like 'Hey, I'm gonna name my kid A.J, or O.K, or T.Q' or some dumb hippie shit? Anyway, off-topic. Name's Clay.
How old are you?
I have to answer this? I'm, uh, eighteen, actually. But before you say some shit like 'Ohh, eighteen-year old in high school, must be one dumb motherfucker', just shut up, okay? I get that I'm dumb, but I don't like hearin' 'bout it. I got held back twice. First time was 'cause I didn't go to school, second time was for fighting. Anyway, off-topic too. Eighteen.
What do you look like?
Other than what you see? Dunno. I'm not good at descriptions. Max says I look like a Clay. People say I look kinda dirty. Not in the sex way. The bath way. I look like a guy with scars on his hands and brown eyes like mud. I keep my hair short so ain't nobody can grab it. I dress in whatever's cheap, which is usually just jeans and button-ups and sweaters and wifebeaters and shit like that. I own a pair of boots and a pair of sneakers, but I only wear boots if it's snowing. Too many guys around my school think they become some kinda badass if they wear boots all the time, and I think they all look like punkass bitches. Off-topic too, my bad. Anyway, long-story short, I look like me.
Do you have any hobbies? Please feel free to discuss them here.
Like, impressive ones? Sometimes I write songs about stuff, except, in my head. I remember them though, I have good memory. I like movies too, especially Lord of The Rings and Marvel and shit. Fantasy stuff. Do those count as hobbies too? Yeah? Fuckin' A. Also, I probably shouldn't mention it, but I like to box. Like, you could say 'Clay likes fighting', but except without like, choking or kicking or other shit. Dennis taught me to box when I was little, from before he left.
Any dislikes?
Teachers. Classmates. School and teachers and classmates and shit, mostly. Everybody treats me like some retard, they talk slow to me like I don't speak English. I don't understand most of what they teach either, so I mostly cheat or guess or make up excuses. I don't like school, and I been thinking of dropping out and working. I ain't have no skills, but, y'know, I still got two legs. I could shovel shit for all I care instead of dealing with everybody at school.
Tell me, what are your goals for the future? Both immediate and long-term.
None. Does that sound sad? I dunno. I just don't have many options. I can't stand school. I'm not smart enough for scholarships, I'm too fuckin' poor to buy my ticket into college. I was born in a trailer, and I'mma probably die in one too. I guess the only goal I got is just, not being where I am now. That make sense? I wanna be a guy who's got like, a girl, and a dog, and a house. Maybe a kid. Dunno yet. Kids are sticky.
What's your home life like? Specifically, what is your relationship like with your parents?
I have to answer that too? Alright, 'kay, gimme a sec. I have both parents, first-off. Usually not what you expect, from some guy from a trailer park, right? Yeah, both of 'em. Most people have a mean dad and a nice mom, but I don't think that's what I got. They both call me stupid and shit like that, so I just block them out. My mom has a job at the hospital, but not no doctor-type stuff. She's an orderly, like, she holds down crazies and cleans up after old people. My dad just kinda sits around and smokes weed and shit. I don't like him either. But it's not all bad, like, they don't say mean shit to me twenty-four seven. I wouldn't go that far. When they ain't mad at me, they act like regular parents I guess. Only problem is they usually got something to be mad about.
Siblings?
I got two baby brothers. That's all you need to know. Sometimes I take care of 'em while their mom's working or Max is busy and I ain't got nothin' better to do. Love 'em to bits. They draw pictures of me sometimes, and I think they got nicknames for me. One time the littlest one broke his nose fallin' off a porch, and Max freaked and didn't know what to do, and I reset his nose with my thumbs. Their mom still ain't know exactly what happened. That guy I mentioned earlier, Dennis. My older brother. Not talking about it.
What's your favorite animal, and why?
Naked mole rats are some badass things, man. Think about it. Naked mole rats barely feel pain, can't get cancer, and act like bugs with a queen and soldiers and shit. They even fight snakes. They can bite through dirt and rocks and whatever too. Basically, they're, like, little shriveled up superhumans. Imagine what a 6-foot long naked mole rat would look like? I'd ride it to battle and shit. Man. Naked mole rats are the fuckin' bomb. I bet if we made, like, an alligator-sized naked mole rat, it'd be like, the dominant species and shit.
Favorite color?
Real talk, yellow. Think about it. Star Trek, boom. Command yellow. Y'know who wore yellow? The best characters, that's who. Kirk. Data. Worf. All yellowshirts. Outside of Star Trek, all the best things are yellow. Baratheon? Yellow. The sun? Yellow. Butter? Yellow. Gold? Yellow. Flowers can be yellow too. It's a happy color, too. Ain't nobody gonna wear a yellow shirt and tell you some sad fuckin' shit.
You wake up late one night to discover that your house is burning down. What do you do?
Grab my cash and get out. Ain't nothing I own too pricey to replace. Trailers ain't hard to escape, either. Afterwards I'd probably come back and see if my folks got out too. Shit. Fucked up kinda question, don'tcha think? I guess everybody thinks they got a plan, but real talk, I don't know what I'd do. Don't think I'd panic though. Worst case scenario, I'd get out and forget my money, but that's in a mason jar by my futon where I keep my keys too, so it's kinda hard to forget. Yeah. Money, keys, escape. Boom, next question.
Finally, a tricky one; which came first, the chicken or the egg?
Sabbath.
Max
Max is geeky and weird and hyper, but nobody bullies her. Wanna know why? One guy tried, once, sayin' stuff about her freckles to his friends. Max heard about it. She said she didn't care, but I think she did, because she ain't ever look him in the eyes, and she walked faster when him and his friends would whisper in the hallway. I waited for him after school, slapped the shit outta him, and roofed his shoes with the socks in 'em. It was raining that day too, so he was walkin' home barefoot through puddles and shit. You know what happened after that day? Max dropped her books in the hallway, and he fuckin' sprints to pick them up for her. Problem solved. Nobody fucks with me, so nobody fucks with her by extension. She's my best friend since day one. My only friend too. Easiest way to put it, she's more to me than me.
[[Clay and Max grew up together. She is his closest friend, and the only person he trusts with his secrets. She is also the only person who can actually tell Clay what to do. Although he is fiercely protective of her, many see him as a bad influence.]]
Mario
Not exactly a fan. All I know about him is that he's some perfect all-star. All American, corn-fed, Eagle Scout, Track-Star set to inherit a family business. Probably goes to church every sunday and tosses papers from his bike. Seriously. Oh, I almost forgot, y'know that cousin you have that you get compared to? Imagine that shit, but with someone you don't even fuckin' know. My mom works with his or somethin', and I get stories about how good of a kid he is, as if I didn't already know I'm a shitty son. Seriously. Anyway, I don't know dick about him on a personal level, although he seems bareable from the stories from Maxie. I'd sum his existence up in a quote from Star Trek, season one, episode fourteen. "In a different reality, I could have called you friend."
[[Clay has no strong opinion of Mario, but is jealous of him for growing up in a comfortable middle-class background. He believes Mario grew up with everything he didn't.]]
Theo
Don't like him either. Makes me feel dumb. I always see him talkin' about some science-y shit like he was the guy to discover it. Oh, I almost forgot this, check this out -- Dude has a fuckin' manservant that follows him around and shit. Drives him to school, probably packs his lunches and tucks him into his fuckin' bed too. He wears name brand shit too, I could never stand that. Anyway, back on topic. Just some poindexter snob. I don't fuck with him. The one conversation I had with him is when he asked me where the AP Chem room was.
[[Clay has no strong opinions on Theo either, although Theo's wealth certainly doesn't make Clay think more highly of him. Clay believes that he is very stupid whereas Theo is very smart, and there is an element of jealousy as well.]]
Iikka
I hear stories about him. Mostly that we're the same, 'cept for one crucial thing everybody keeps missin'. I don't hit girls. Don't even slap 'em. I hear he beat the piss outta some chick for talkin' to him wrong. What the fuck's up with that? Christ. Fuckin' psychopath. Anyway, never met him before, although I met his lackey Jason a few times he tried bumming a cigarette offa me. People say they'd pay money to see me and Iikka fight. He tries steppin' up to me, maybe those people'll pay up. Maybe he'll see fightin' girls ain't the best way to make a name for yourself.
[[Clay has never met Iikka. Although the two have similar reputations, Clay only knows about Iikka through hearing that he beat up a girl, so his opinion of him is fairly low.]]
Alrighty then. Character sheets and basic plot are up. Tomorrow I'll try and flesh it all out (There will be an IC portion of the character sheet, for example) and include things like Race Applications, since the crew's diverse enough that there could easily be races that aren't on the wiki. Until then, I feel I should mention two things.
Co-GMs will be needed! As you can see, I'm busy with work a lot, and a handful of people helping things run more smoothly would... Well, make it run more smoothly.
Captain is up for grabs! Although preferably a Co-GM would play this role, I feel that being GM and captain would give me too much control. I'll be playing one of the chief officers.
With that, I look forward to everyone's applications, and I apologize for getting to it so late.
Co-GMs will be needed! As you can see, I'm busy with work a lot, and a handful of people helping things run more smoothly would... Well, make it run more smoothly.
Captain is up for grabs! Although preferably a Co-GM would play this role, I feel that being GM and captain would give me too much control. I'll be playing one of the chief officers.
With that, I look forward to everyone's applications, and I apologize for getting to it so late.
I'll be creating the character sheets shortly, glad to see people are still here!
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