Lugubrious

Unlikely Heroes

I just thought of a power way more interesting than psammokinesis. I knew of it before reading up that powers wiki one of you linked us too because I watched the show Heroes, but ink manipulation is pretty cool. Early stages start out with changing around pictures and written words, and with later stages come a black tide and inky armor. Pretty cool--but I've chosen my path.

Out of pure curiosity, if you all had any two superpowers in the mysterious and complicated realm known as Real Life, which would it be? Personally, I'd choose telekinesis and teleportation; they're a little bland, but the most useful in my eyes.

Unlikely Heroes

C'mon, fellas. I've been the last post for too long--makes me feel as if I've made some mistake nobody wants to follow up on.

Or that everyone's too stunned by the magnificence of my paragraphs to make a move. Yeah. That's definitely it.

Unlikely Heroes

An endless sea of sand...

Adam's mental activity was fuzzy, as if each act and thought was mired in syrup. His senses were equally lugubrious; he had almost no awareness of his surroundings except for a blurry divide between beige and white. The colors were very alike, making cognition difficult, but after a few moments his sight began to clear. Adam became aware that he was standing on a vast, empty desert, totally uninterrupted by dune, cactus, creature, or anything from horizon to horizon. As was his tendency when he lost his way, Adam looked skyward for guidance but found only white. Like the ground, the heavens were spotless and bright, though white instead of tan. They reminded the man beneath them of a winter sky, cloudy but pure. Was this some sort of dream? He took a tentative step, and the sand shifted normally beneath his feet. No vision assailed him, no sensations bombarded him, yet he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Where had he been last? It was hard to remember.

A pinprick of pain came suddenly to his wrist. Though the sensation was minuscule and dim, he recoiled nonetheless. Seconds later another hit him, but he couldn't see what was causing the tiny agony or where it was coming from. Adam whirled around, kicking up sand, looking in every direction before he figured it out: it was grains of sand that were hitting him. The ominous feeling from earlier was nothing more than a rising wind, blowing along some of the sediment from the strange wasteland in its wake. As he came to this conclusion, however, he became aware that more and more sand was blowing against him. He turned to face the wind for a split second and saw, to his surprise, a sandstorm raging his way. Still more than a thousand feet off, this squall stunned him. How had he not seen it coming just seconds ago when he looked every way to try and discover the nature of his surroundings? While he contemplated that, distracted, the dark, dirty cloud swallowed him up. Breathing was difficult, and the pain before that had been so scattered like a few raindrops was now a constant, intolerable deluge. Adam stumbled onto his back, unable to stop the dusty tide...

He awoke kicking, and a flood of relief washed over him. Morning sun peered through the unattended blinds. The storm, the sand, all were just a dream. A sudden realization hit him as he sat up and lifted an arm and found himself in the possession of a surprising vigor. Compared to the bumbling wreck he had been last night, he was right as rain. Muttering "Thank God" he sank back against the sheets. Sensations against his skin alerted him that something was wrong; the sheets were uncomfortable and irritating. He ran a hand across the pillow and felt numerous tiny grains that froze him in his tracks. There was sand in his bed--sand, only a dozen miles away from the New York-Pennsylvania border and dozens of miles away from the nearest beach. "How...?"

As it turned out, the presence of sand wasn't the only mystery in Adam's room. Thoroughly perplexed, the man stood up from the bed -still in the clothes of the night before- and meandered into the bathroom. On the way, he attempted to rub the remnants of sleep from his eyes only to discover with disgust that his hands were still pebbled with sand. After a thorough dusting he tried again but suffered the same result. Increasingly confused and annoyed, he yanked the sink faucets and washed his hands clean of all traces of sand. Third time proved to not be the charm, infuriatingly, and Adam was stupefied that the grains had managed to cling to his skin despite both dusting and cleansing. For the first time he actually looked at his hands, and witnessed -to his shock- grains of sand seemingly forming on his palms out of thin air. A new sensation took a hold of him: fear. With a violent motion he flung the sand off and hurriedly left the room, pausing his escape only to stop at the front desk to make sure that he had paid for everything and was clear to go. Moments later he was back in his car, staring at his palms once more. Not a grain of sand to be seen. He murmured darkly to himself and turned the ignition,

Unlikely Heroes

I'll be posting my next tomorrow, without fail.

Unlikely Heroes

Please do not hesitate to let me know if I make any errors in my posts.

Unlikely Heroes

It was hard for Adam to tell if his headache or his boredom were more painful. For what seemed like hours he had waited in the emergency room lobby, too 'hurt' to be allowed to leave yet not bad enough to warrant immediate attention. The events of the crash that had landed him here were already fading, which was strange to him; it seemed like such an event would leave a terribly lasting impact upon his mind, but already the image was slipping away. He remembered sitting comfortable in the back end of the vehicle after thoroughly thanking a young lady who had given her seat up for him (she insisted that her stop was imminent, but Adam was sure she was being kindhearted--a true Samaritan. Not that he was of such an advanced age to explicitly need it, of course, but refusing the offer would have been poor manners) and peering out at the bustling New York cityscape through a smudged window. Suddenly there were load noises, crunches and steely shrieks, and a bone-rattling impact. Adam had been spared severe injury by propping himself up with his legs, having been involved in a collision while aboard public transportation about three years prior, but the woman who had bequeathed to him her seat wasn't so lucky.

Though the emergency squads appeared promptly, somehow cutting through the dense traffic congesting the busy streets, they were preceded by flocks of gawking onlookers who offered no assistance to the people in the accident. That much Adam remembered. Before long the civilians had gone their separate ways, dismissing the collision as merely another casualty of their city. Adam marveled at the callousness of it; did the big city strip its countless inhabitants of compassion for their fellows? Adam had concluded he wouldn't stick around to find out and would depart back to Pennsylvania at the next opportunity. The bus crash put something of a dent in his enthusiasm for touring the Big Apple.

For now, though, he was stuck in the emergency room...or the lobby, rather. While there had been no major issues on the bus, the paramedics had insisted some of the passengers be screened at the nearest clinic for less-than-obvious injuries. Adam had been at the forefront, rushed to the dreary-eyed medical personal to make sure none of his elderly bones were broken, and left to sit in the waiting room while the more perilous hurts were assessed when he was found to be uninjured. The 'doctors' were almost all young, barely out of college if Adam judged correctly. A few hours in and he couldn't help wonder that if, in their youthful rush, they had forgotten him. A headache accosted him in the meantime, starting out tolerable but growing more intolerable with every passing minute. Finally he could stand it no more, and with a brusque wave in the general direction of the person behind the counter he left the clinic. He had hoped to stay until he could make sure that the young lady who'd been so nice to him on the bus was alright, but he assured himself that her kindliness would bring fortune to her side.

By God's grace the lot were he had left the family car was only a block away from the emergency service clinic. On the way he popped an ibuprofen from a little metal case in his wallet and downed it, careful not to allow the crowd to jostle the object from him. He felt an obligation not to mentally label some of the people around him as suspicious, but the suspicions lurked in his mind nevertheless. He was finally alone when the roar of the city was muffled by the frame of his car, providing a hint of relief from his pounding migraine. Drawing strength in the assumption that he was on the road to recovery, he slid his key into ignition, shifted into reverse, and eased his way into traffic. The outdated GPS flickered on and he inputted his desired destination into the device as he waited at the first red light. A few seconds later he was homeward bound.

Hours passed and Adam was forced to pull into a roadside motel at about dinnertime, feeling terribly ill. Home would clearly have to wait until tomorrow, but since he had originally planned to head back to Pennsylvania tomorrow evening it mattered little. Dinner would have to wait as well; the very notion of eating made his gut convulse. He bought a room for the night from a clerk who managed to look even more decrepit than Adam felt, though this individual's hands was neither sweating nor shaky like Adam's. Was this some sort of flu? Perhaps he had gotten it in the emergency room. Not long after Adam shambled inside, waves of stifling warmth and nauseating cold washed over him and the energy drained from his body faster than bathwater down an unplugged drain. Wondering why God would allow him to survive a bus crash almost unscathed only to suffer at the hands of some sickness, he collapsed into bed after placing his valuables in a bedside drawer, and gradually drifted into a fitful sleep, still in his clothes.

Unlikely Heroes

I assume we're free to begin?

Unlikely Heroes

Something tells me that that sheet's not going to make the cut.

Unlikely Heroes

Name: Adam Basset
Age: 51
Gender: Male
Appearance: Standing at a respectable 5'10” and weighing in at 148 lbs, Adam is a dignified persona. Though his scruffy black hair has been gray for years, it is always clean and neatly-shorn, though he does have slight sideburns. Bright, almost youthful brown eyes glint beneath bushy eyebrows, giving him a look that when coupled with a dry smile and a few laugh lines give him a visage of good humor. He also sports a long, straight nose and a marvelous cleft chin. The rest of him is unremarkable despite an obvious genetic predisposition for body hair. His favorite color, a forest green, is evident in his decidedly old-fasioned wardrobe, and he will often wear black or khaki slacks. A tiny pewter crucifix pendant adorns his neck and he's kept his father's dingy old pocketwatch in one pocket or another for years.

Superpower
Name of ability: Psammokinesis
Description: Adam is able to create and manipulate sand and dust, either projecting it in an attack, creating defensive structures, or forming partially-sentient beings that can act on their own.
Level one abilities: In its most untempered state, Adam's ability is fitful. Sand will appear in his hands, both when he wants it to and not, which can be controlled in an extremely clumsy and limited manner. Occasionally, when enough sand is formed, it will coalesce into a small construct that almost always acts of its own accord. A headache will develop if his abilities go unchecked.
Level three abilities: At this stage Adam can control his sand generation, able to make a lot in a short time and fire it off in blasts, though he is limited from. He can solidify it into rudimentary constructs and structures, though this is difficult.
Level five abilities: When mastered, Adam's ability is frightening. In the span of seconds he can generate vast amounts of sand from any part of his body and even a few feet away. A raging sandstorm isn't hard to come by, and if Adam tries, he can create an entire legion of reasonably intelligent but totally loyal sand soldiers to fight for him.
Weakness/drawback: Three noteworthy counters to Adam's power exist. Enough water will make his sand into mud, instantly nullifying its supernatural properties. Focused fire will fuse his sand into crude glass if its in a tangible form. Lastly, in cold conditions the sand practically turns to snow, halving its speed and its usefulness. In early stages, his untempered power can make everyday activities unpleasant.

History
History: Though the world has changed in the fifty years of Adam's life, he's somehow remained the same. The only son of a lower-middle-class family in Pennsylvania, he nevertheless grew up contented and remarkably well-educated, thanks in part to the compassion and powerful morality of his parents Wilson and Bee. He's been a faithful Roman Catholic all his life, and it is evident in almost every aspect of him, from grandiose way of speaking to dignified posture. Though he dreamed of becoming a pastor at his local church he ultimately chose to attend a community college to ensure a career that could afford him and his soon-to-be wife Jill Nephthis a comfortable life. As such, he developed a nagging fear that he had turned his back on his faith—a feeling that intensified when the majority of professors at his chosen college proved atheist, almost militantly so. Now long out of college but far away from his hometown and with two daughters of his own, one twenty and the other twenty-two, he seeks to return to his roots.
The day before the bus ride: After needlessly making sure Jill -and her fresh Subway sandwich- was safe in the seatbelt, Adam tentatively shifted his parked sedan into reverse and backed out into the parking lot before gliding gently out onto the main street. The roads were congested, of course, as they always were at this hour, which afforded his dusty mind ample time to drift. A decade ago a similar trip to what Jill referred to as 'the best fast food around', the backseat would have been occupied by two little girls happily munching away on chips and babbling excitedly about school. Nowadays, school was (for his daughters) college, and it had been months since either Adam or Jill had seen them last. Of course, they maintained an almost daily phone call or e-mail, the latter of which both husband and wife still had trouble using effectively.

He was roused from his reverie as the light ahead flashed green and traffic lurched forward. Driving was, by now, second nature to him but it never hurt to be careful. A bratty beep ejaculated from an impatient white Subaru behind him, annoyed at his caution. When the opportunity provided, the Subaru wound out from behind Adam's sedan and zipped forward. Though others may have taken offense, all the impatient driver sparked in Adam was a dry smile. He always found a gritty sort of amusement in people that furiously rushed through life. As the white vehicle thrust past, he shot a quick glimpse at the license plate and found himself momentarily enraptured; firstly, the license was from New York, the same place he would be driving to by himself to spend the weekend as a tourist starting tomorrow. Secondly, the inscription upon the plate read 'PMS24-7'. Unable to contain himself, Adam burst out laughing, startling Jill, who tore herself away from a delicious mouthful of meatball marinara to make sure all was well. A short-winded explanation and she, too, was snorting in laughter.

Mr_pink said
suggestions for powers? I can't think of any that aren't too OP or stupid.

Well, there's really quite a variety. Making things/self intangible, minor teleportation, shapeshifting (partially, or into a select form, such as a monster), all kinds of manipulation of matter, invisible finger bullets, illusions, the ability to find things, anything. A simple one that I found had a lot of potential was the ability to slow things in close range via projected 'stasis fields', to put it colloquially. Slowing things down or stopping them at later levels is a great defensive ability with a lot of application.

Unlikely Heroes

Thanks! Here's the shell. You'll have the rest tomorrow.

Name: Adam Basset
Age: 51
Gender: Male
Appearance: Standing at a respectable 5'10” and weighing in at 148 lbs, Adam is a dignified persona. Though his scruffy black hair has been gray for years, it is always clean and neatly-shorn, though he does have slight sideburns. Bright, almost youthful brown eyes glint beneath bushy eyebrows, giving him a look that when coupled with a dry smile and a few laugh lines give him a visage of good humor. He also sports a long, straight nose and a marvelous cleft chin. The rest of him is unremarkable despite an obvious genetic predisposition for body hair. His favorite color, a forest green, is evident in his decidedly old-fasioned wardrobe, and he will often wear black or khaki slacks. A tiny pewter crucifix pendant adorns his neck and he's kept his father's dingy old pocketwatch in one pocket or another for years.

Superpower
Name of Ability: Psammokinesis
Description: Adam is able to create and manipulate sand and dust, either projecting it in an attack, creating defensive structures, or forming partially-sentient beings that can act on their own.
Level One Abilities: In its most untempered state, Adam's ability is fitful. Sand will appear in his hands, both when he wants it to and not, which can be controlled in an extremely clumsy and limited manner. Occasionally, when enough sand is formed, it will coalesce into a small construct that almost always acts of its own accord. A headache will develop if his abilities go unchecked.
Level Three Abilities: At this stage Adam can control his sand generation, able to make a lot in a short time and fire it off in blasts, though he is limited from. He can solidify it into rudimentary constructs and structures, though this is difficult.
Level Five Abilities: When mastered, Adam's ability is frightening. In the span of seconds he can generate vast amounts of sand from any part of his body and even a few feet away. A raging sandstorm isn't hard to come by, and if Adam tries, he can create an entire legion of reasonably intelligent but totally loyal sand soldiers to fight for him.
Weakness/drawback: Three noteworthy counters to Adam's power exist. Enough water will make his sand into mud, instantly nullifying its supernatural properties. Focused fire will fuse his sand into crude glass if its in a tangible form. Lastly, in cold conditions the sand practically turns to snow, halving its speed and its usefulness. In early stages, his untempered power can make everyday activities unpleasant.