Zechariah Auber
Lord Wraith
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Thunderbringer
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- Old Guild Username: Lord Wraith
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
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- Lord Wraith 12 yrs ago
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Bio
Reluctantly retired roleplayer.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
Most Recent Posts
Convergence
Junction
Junction
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>Awesome! I will write up my second post by this weekend and PM both to you, plus anything else I might feel is important to mention.
Apologies for the delay. Please feel free to consider Diablo accepted and proceed.
“I can’t find anything wrong with your leg.”
Dick Grayson looked up at Leslie Thompkins, his face marked by scowling skepticism.
“Doc, I’m not one to doubt your professional prognosis, but I can’t walk on it.” He replied, moving to stand as if to demonstrate before catching himself on the edge of the examination bed as his knee buckled beneath him.
“Mr. Grayson, physically, you’re fine.” Thompkins reiterated, pointing to the MRI scans on the board behind her. “Your bones are completely intact, no torn muscles or ligaments, no blood clots. By all measures, you are in prime physical condition. Whatever is preventing your leg from working is up here-”
Dick’s eyes rolled upwards as Leslie planted her index finger firmly between them, tapping him on the forehead.
“And I’m afraid that’s something out of my scope of practice.”
“You’re saying it’s all in my head?” Dick deadpanned in disbelief, “I can just will myself to stand up and cartwheel out of here?”
“I wish it were that simple, dear.” Leslie smiled sympathetically, “To be frank, I worry that your body’s waiting on something.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully, “Something that your mind hasn’t caught up to yet, and that’s what’s causing the disconnect.” Leslie took a seat, moving her chair directly across from Dick before her gray eyes locked with his deep blues.
“I know your nights can get a little unpredictable, but did anything traumatic happen recently?”
Traumatic
Happen
Recently?
The smell of gunpowder wafted under Dick’s nose, causing him to recoil in disgust. The cold rain on his skin sent a shiver down his spine while blood pooled on the ground, spreading out from the massive body.
Roland Desmond was dead.
Blockbuster was finally gone.
Sweat, blood and tears blurred his vision as he looked to his shaking arm. The smoking gun was in his hand. It clattered to the ground with an audible thud. A hand took hold of either of his arms as he was hauled away from the body.
He felt his throat going raw, hoarse shouting as he fought against either arm before he was delivered to her.
It was supposed to be a moment of celebration, of triumph.
Why did it feel like betrayal?
The taste of cigarette ash and smoke suddenly filled his mouth. A sandpaper-like tongue rubbing up against his own.
Skin on skin.
Cold.
Paralytic.
“Mr. Grayson?” Leslie asked, her eyes worryingly studying Dick. “Where did you go just now?”
He ignored the question, answering with one of his own.
“You think more of my body will shut down?”
Leslie let out a heavy exhale. Dick’s deflection didn’t go unnoticed, but she knew better than to force the conversation.
“We can put you into a physio to try and stave off atrophy,” Her voice trailed off at the end of the sentence. Dick knew all too well what that intonation meant.
“But?”
“But I’m not ruling out the possibility, Mr. Grayson.” She answered flatly. “That said, if you’re not going to talk to me, then I suggest you do talk to someone.”
Normally, Dick would have flashed his teeth, batted his eyelashes and cracked a joke.
Normally.
Nothing was normal anymore, though. He wasn’t Robin, and he sure wasn’t Nightwing anymore. Just a man living in Blüdhaven trying to find his way in a crazy, mixed-up world. He nodded solemnly towards Leslie, thanking her for her time before picking up his cane and hobbling out the door.
He felt like a prisoner in his own body, only he didn’t know what sentence he was serving.
“What’d Doc Thompkins have to say?”
“How long have you been waiting?” Dick replied, looking up at the radiant, ravishing raven-haired woman standing against the door frame.
“Inconsequential, there were no extracurriculars tonight on account of budget cuts across the board, and I don’t have anything to mark. Besides, you owe me dinner.” Helena smirked playfully.
“Do I?” Dick replied with a coy smile. “On account of what?”
“On account of what I’m planning on doing to you tonight, of course.” Helena smiled, “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of my previous question, though.”
“Leslie thinks my body is processing something that I’m not.”
“That much is obvious.”
“Come again,”
“Richard,” Helena replied, laying a hand on the younger man’s cheek. “You’re a man who lives in the present, always looking forward. It’s one of your greatest strengths, but it’s also your Achilles’ heel. Sometimes life requires you to slow down and remain in the moment.” She smiled softly, gently caressing his face.
“I know you have itchy feet, but the solution isn’t always to run and jump off the next ledge. Sometimes you need to stay in one place and deal with the cause, not treat the symptoms.”
“You know, you could have saved me like a hundred bucks if you had told me that this morning.”
“You and I both know Thompkins runs a free clinic.” She patted her hand against his face playfully. “Take this seriously. Whatever Doctor Thompkins told you to do, you need to do that. You’re more fun when both legs can move.”
Dick flashed Helena a quick grin before she held out her hand.
“Now then, Mr.Grayson,” Helena called, her tone playful despite it sounding like an order. “Pretend you like me and hold my hand. I’m thinking Italian for dinner.”
“Best I can do on a former ward’s budget is Big Belly Burger.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Dick Grayson looked up at Leslie Thompkins, his face marked by scowling skepticism.
“Doc, I’m not one to doubt your professional prognosis, but I can’t walk on it.” He replied, moving to stand as if to demonstrate before catching himself on the edge of the examination bed as his knee buckled beneath him.
“Mr. Grayson, physically, you’re fine.” Thompkins reiterated, pointing to the MRI scans on the board behind her. “Your bones are completely intact, no torn muscles or ligaments, no blood clots. By all measures, you are in prime physical condition. Whatever is preventing your leg from working is up here-”
Dick’s eyes rolled upwards as Leslie planted her index finger firmly between them, tapping him on the forehead.
“And I’m afraid that’s something out of my scope of practice.”
“You’re saying it’s all in my head?” Dick deadpanned in disbelief, “I can just will myself to stand up and cartwheel out of here?”
“I wish it were that simple, dear.” Leslie smiled sympathetically, “To be frank, I worry that your body’s waiting on something.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully, “Something that your mind hasn’t caught up to yet, and that’s what’s causing the disconnect.” Leslie took a seat, moving her chair directly across from Dick before her gray eyes locked with his deep blues.
“I know your nights can get a little unpredictable, but did anything traumatic happen recently?”
Traumatic
Happen
Recently?
The smell of gunpowder wafted under Dick’s nose, causing him to recoil in disgust. The cold rain on his skin sent a shiver down his spine while blood pooled on the ground, spreading out from the massive body.
Roland Desmond was dead.
Blockbuster was finally gone.
Sweat, blood and tears blurred his vision as he looked to his shaking arm. The smoking gun was in his hand. It clattered to the ground with an audible thud. A hand took hold of either of his arms as he was hauled away from the body.
He felt his throat going raw, hoarse shouting as he fought against either arm before he was delivered to her.
It was supposed to be a moment of celebration, of triumph.
Why did it feel like betrayal?
The taste of cigarette ash and smoke suddenly filled his mouth. A sandpaper-like tongue rubbing up against his own.
Skin on skin.
Cold.
Paralytic.
“Mr. Grayson?” Leslie asked, her eyes worryingly studying Dick. “Where did you go just now?”
He ignored the question, answering with one of his own.
“You think more of my body will shut down?”
Leslie let out a heavy exhale. Dick’s deflection didn’t go unnoticed, but she knew better than to force the conversation.
“We can put you into a physio to try and stave off atrophy,” Her voice trailed off at the end of the sentence. Dick knew all too well what that intonation meant.
“But?”
“But I’m not ruling out the possibility, Mr. Grayson.” She answered flatly. “That said, if you’re not going to talk to me, then I suggest you do talk to someone.”
Normally, Dick would have flashed his teeth, batted his eyelashes and cracked a joke.
Normally.
Nothing was normal anymore, though. He wasn’t Robin, and he sure wasn’t Nightwing anymore. Just a man living in Blüdhaven trying to find his way in a crazy, mixed-up world. He nodded solemnly towards Leslie, thanking her for her time before picking up his cane and hobbling out the door.
He felt like a prisoner in his own body, only he didn’t know what sentence he was serving.
“What’d Doc Thompkins have to say?”
“How long have you been waiting?” Dick replied, looking up at the radiant, ravishing raven-haired woman standing against the door frame.
“Inconsequential, there were no extracurriculars tonight on account of budget cuts across the board, and I don’t have anything to mark. Besides, you owe me dinner.” Helena smirked playfully.
“Do I?” Dick replied with a coy smile. “On account of what?”
“On account of what I’m planning on doing to you tonight, of course.” Helena smiled, “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of my previous question, though.”
“Leslie thinks my body is processing something that I’m not.”
“That much is obvious.”
“Come again,”
“Richard,” Helena replied, laying a hand on the younger man’s cheek. “You’re a man who lives in the present, always looking forward. It’s one of your greatest strengths, but it’s also your Achilles’ heel. Sometimes life requires you to slow down and remain in the moment.” She smiled softly, gently caressing his face.
“I know you have itchy feet, but the solution isn’t always to run and jump off the next ledge. Sometimes you need to stay in one place and deal with the cause, not treat the symptoms.”
“You know, you could have saved me like a hundred bucks if you had told me that this morning.”
“You and I both know Thompkins runs a free clinic.” She patted her hand against his face playfully. “Take this seriously. Whatever Doctor Thompkins told you to do, you need to do that. You’re more fun when both legs can move.”
Dick flashed Helena a quick grin before she held out her hand.
“Now then, Mr.Grayson,” Helena called, her tone playful despite it sounding like an order. “Pretend you like me and hold my hand. I’m thinking Italian for dinner.”
“Best I can do on a former ward’s budget is Big Belly Burger.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
When the discord bot tells you no even when you agree to the rules. Lol
I manually added the permissions, but this issue is fixed moving forward.
My apologies, Catwoman is accepted.
For some reason, I thought this was a WIP.
Crissy Chapel - A powerful psionic from Crestwood Hollow, V lineage.
Aiden Roth - A junior agent with the Bureau of Hyperhuman Enforcement, Logistics and Protection. V lineage.
Charles M. Callaghan - A rookie vigilante with a rotating power set.
Aiden Roth - A junior agent with the Bureau of Hyperhuman Enforcement, Logistics and Protection. V lineage.
Charles M. Callaghan - A rookie vigilante with a rotating power set.
October 18, 1967.
The day that the world changed forever, a near-cataclysmic event rocked the world.
In the midst of a lunar eclipse, an unprecedented coronal mass ejection irradiated the planet in high-energy particles, visibly noted by the largest and brightest occurrence of aurorae in recorded history. The focal point of which was in a sleepy New Hampshire hamlet of Crestwood Hollow. While ethereal colours bathed the night sky of the Western hemisphere, the CME also brought a geomagnetic storm, which ravaged Earth’s electrical transmission lines, causing power outages on a global scale. It was on this day that the Earth nearly stood still, sitting in total darkness for nearly ten minutes before backup systems began to re-activate. Numerous regions around the globe were left in the dark well beyond that. Cities were powerless for nearly a week, while some rural areas were forced to survive for nearly a month without power. This event left a death toll numbering in the tens of thousands, becoming known as the 'Long Night'.
However, the aftermath of the Long Eclipse reached far further than anyone could have ever anticipated. The resulting effect of the high-energy particles was a mutation appearing in one person of every million people. While public knowledge of the mutation remains vague, selected sects in the scientific community are aware of it and have dubbed the emergence of the mutation ‘Viriumosis’. In more common jargon, the possession of a mutation is referred to as the ‘Hype-Factor’ or ‘Hype-Gene’, making those who possess it a Hyperhuman. However, to those who know the whole story, these Hyperhumans are referred to as...
PREMISE:
Spinning out of my collective 'Hyperverse' lore, SUNBORNE is the latest entry into that catalogue and, in many ways, is a return to my roots. While most of the Hyperverse has been hyper-focused (wink), around the school of Pacific Royal Collegiate and University, SUNBORNE instead is focused on the individual and the lives they lead within the fictionalized metropolis of Crescent City, California. Lately, I've been particularly inspired by Invincible and its superhero world-building, while more often than not, previous Hyperhuman projects have taken inspiration from X-Men and Heroes. Here, my intention with SUNBORNE is a return to sandbox storytelling using the Hyperhuman lore as a springboard to build and flesh out new heroes, their stories and their (hopefully) complicated lives.
The day that the world changed forever, a near-cataclysmic event rocked the world.
In the midst of a lunar eclipse, an unprecedented coronal mass ejection irradiated the planet in high-energy particles, visibly noted by the largest and brightest occurrence of aurorae in recorded history. The focal point of which was in a sleepy New Hampshire hamlet of Crestwood Hollow. While ethereal colours bathed the night sky of the Western hemisphere, the CME also brought a geomagnetic storm, which ravaged Earth’s electrical transmission lines, causing power outages on a global scale. It was on this day that the Earth nearly stood still, sitting in total darkness for nearly ten minutes before backup systems began to re-activate. Numerous regions around the globe were left in the dark well beyond that. Cities were powerless for nearly a week, while some rural areas were forced to survive for nearly a month without power. This event left a death toll numbering in the tens of thousands, becoming known as the 'Long Night'.
However, the aftermath of the Long Eclipse reached far further than anyone could have ever anticipated. The resulting effect of the high-energy particles was a mutation appearing in one person of every million people. While public knowledge of the mutation remains vague, selected sects in the scientific community are aware of it and have dubbed the emergence of the mutation ‘Viriumosis’. In more common jargon, the possession of a mutation is referred to as the ‘Hype-Factor’ or ‘Hype-Gene’, making those who possess it a Hyperhuman. However, to those who know the whole story, these Hyperhumans are referred to as...
S U N B O R N E
C H I L D R E N O F T H E E C L I P S EPREMISE:
Spinning out of my collective 'Hyperverse' lore, SUNBORNE is the latest entry into that catalogue and, in many ways, is a return to my roots. While most of the Hyperverse has been hyper-focused (wink), around the school of Pacific Royal Collegiate and University, SUNBORNE instead is focused on the individual and the lives they lead within the fictionalized metropolis of Crescent City, California. Lately, I've been particularly inspired by Invincible and its superhero world-building, while more often than not, previous Hyperhuman projects have taken inspiration from X-Men and Heroes. Here, my intention with SUNBORNE is a return to sandbox storytelling using the Hyperhuman lore as a springboard to build and flesh out new heroes, their stories and their (hopefully) complicated lives.
In other news, I've started construction on a Discord server for us to encourage more communication and collaboration. Joining is completely optional, but open to everyone.
I'll also add this to the OP for easier finding.
I'll also add this to the OP for easier finding.
That's completely fair. If you have anything specific you want to ask (like about wider setting implications), I can do my best. I also have a first post done, so if you'd like I can finish the follow up that concludes the section and PM them to you if you want to get the vibe for how my take reads.
That would actually be great and incredibly helpful for me.
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