LupusIntus

Fugitive Powers

Think we're for sure moving to that other site now...

Fugitive Powers

Yesh!
Auto-correct ho!

Fugitive Powers

Hey Jinxer and Lillium and everyone!
So I was thinking that Atticus has in his possession (inside the duffel bag stuffed with caaaash), several documents detailing the 'House of Powers Project' (or whatever it would be called). These would be co-drafted works by Atticus and Mari's fathers who worked together to create the initial experimental facilities for studying unnaturals (aka House of Powers) with Mari's dad being the chief scientist and Atticus' being the one handling the government funding, regulation, cover up, ect. Along with these documents would be a flashdrive, heavily encoded, that maybe would hold plans for a NEW facility; one far more advanced (and more horrifying) than the previous ones. If at some point the contents of this bag come to light (Atticus probably wouldn't show them outright) then I thought maybe Julius would be the one to break the encoding and reveal the project! (bum bum buuuuum!)

Anyway, just an idea! I didn't want to jack your thread or anything (super happy to have been invited, btw) but I thought it could be a fun/interesting idea in the works for whenever. :)

Fugitive Powers

Ya, but all that did was make it so I turn into a naked gnome every full moon. Not much to do with the chat program...

Fugitive Powers

Brooklyn - Downtown

The air burned in his lungs as he ran down street after street, alley after alley, but still the sound if sirens drew ever closer. This was the division of the military created for one sole purpose; to capture or kill all those deemed 'unnatural'; and they were relentless. Slowing just a bit to catch his breath, Atticus glanced over his shoulder when a strong hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him into a darkened alleyway. It was too sudden for him to react as he was thrown against the brick wall, one large hand clamping over his mouth. On instinct alone Atticus grabbed the man's wrist, the tiny red tendrils wrapping around his skin and constricting but he quickly stopped himself when the man spoke.

Gonzo said “Don’t say a damn word,” he growled. “I’m here to help.”

Atticus' dark eyes stared warily into the stranger's but he made no move to escape as the sirens blared past them.

Gonzo said Diego stared into the other Empowered’s eyes and took his hand from his mouth. “Stay still. Don’t move. You won’t be able to outrun me if you do.” He flashed the guy a sinister smile, then backed up, letting a couple of sparks of electricity fly from his hands.

He squinted through the flash of light as the first one went down in a shower of sparks, flesh smoking. Now Atticus did speak, a stream of curses spilling from his mouth as he hit he pavement just when the bullets started flying. The young man watched, amazed, as the stranger literally flew into action and began tearing the retrieval squad apart. One of the luckier ones was simply knocked away by the body of his squad mate, his limp form landing in a heap right in front of Atticus. Without wasting a beat, the young man crawled over and began riffling through his gear, retrieving what appeared to be a flash-bang grenade and a long double-edged combat knife and holster.

The gunfire having stopped, Atticus pushed himself to his feet, slipping the grenade and knife into his jacket pocket, just as the last solder tried to fire an empty weapon. Hearing a groan from the one at his feet, his features turned into a scowl as he viciously curb-stomped the man back into unconsciousness. He looked up just in time to see the stranger take off the head of the last soldier with his bare hands, the blood making an audible splash as it poured onto the street. Atticus lowered his chin as he stared at the empowered and wondered just what sort of creature he was.

Gonzo said “Hey there. The name is Diego, and you are?”

There was a short pause as Atticus considered his options. "Blake." He lied casually. His dark eyes finally looked away to examine the carnage. "Do you plan to take their ears as trophies or should we depart before more show up?" The sarcasm in his voice was palpable but already the sounds of more soldiers could be heard and in the distance one could even pick up the faint thrum of a helicopter's blades.

Fugitive Powers

Diego's got some anger issues. He should take up painting, or crochet! :P

New Terra Online - [VRMMORPG RP]

Victoria took blow after blow from the menacing forest wyrm but the predictable mature of the beasts attacks saw that not a single claw got past her shield. She took minor damage from what wasn't soaked completely by her defense but the wyvern's HP dropped far quicker. After a time the thing finally collapsed into a pile of dissipating pixels. She went over and picked up the bone and, when no one objected, put it into her inventory with a shrug. Rose was not one to let things go to waste and she had a particular idea of how to use such a values crafting item.

Some time later and the female knight stood overlooking the bridge that was about to become a battlefield. Her eyes narrowed at Hebigami's speech, hating the vile monster and all her ilk, and though she shouted out a protest at Garnet's acceptance of the 'duel' she gritted her teeth through the initial attack. At this point, Rose would have loved nothing more that to order the entire group to retreat but she knew that Garnet would never allow it. The fool man was set on seeing himself, and many others, into an early grave.

Smashing her shield with a fist, Victoria drew her sword and charged forward to the LG leader's aid though she activated no skill. Instead she simply slid to a halt between the man and the one called 'KuroTetsu' with shield raised. "You need to fall back, Garnet!" She shouted, bright green eyes never leaving her opponent. With shield raised she made no move to attack, having heard the idiot explain his entire style of fighting, focused on simply preventing him from doing harm to anyone else.

Fugitive Powers

Yes, snark and all! I figured this would be a good time to revive him and since I'd lost all his CS and backstory writeups anyway, it was sorta like making up a new character.
Don't worry, I'm sure each and every one of you will find some way to push his buttons! :)

And I do miss Vera and all the lil' school-house gang. XD

EDIT:
Posted the (long) intro. Yay me! :3

Fugitive Powers

Brooklyne Heights

Yar! Here be a long intro post!

A cold wind whipped down the riverside street sending the young man's unzipped jacket fluttering about his chest: surely a sign of the harsh winter that was coming to the sleepless city. The young man who walked casually down the street with three plastic grocery bags filling his hands hardly seemed to mind, rather the subtle smile curling his lips and his long intent breaths indicated just how much he relished the icy bite; the feeling of needles against his unprotected skin. It was a feeling of freedom, one that reminded him of what had been taken from him those four long years. He could still remember those cracked white walls, the dead fluorescent light on his skin day and night. It had been almost 6 months since his escape but he suddenly could taste that stale, sterile air. Now a chill did run up his spine, the blood quickening through his veins as the unwanted memories trickled back.

Atticus Tyren stopped and shook away the images he saw all to often, though some ghosts remained as they always did. His dark brown eyes peered out over the rushing water; thin, pointed eyebrows furrowing against the light of the sunset reflecting off the waves. Slowly those eyes moved up to the Manhattan skyline, to the glittering windows of a dozen imposing skyscrapers that formed an almost impenetrable wall separating him from the world he'd once known. Atticus wondered if his father stood at one of those windows, looking down over the city beneath his feet and pondering where he might catch his estranged son. "Not likely..." He admitted to himself for even those sorts of thoughts would have been more attention than his father had ever been willing to give him in 22 years. Just for a moment, the young man's dark eyes narrowed and he imagined holding his father over the edges of one of those skyscrapers before once again turning away and continuing his short walk home.

Atticus pushed open the door to the lobby of his apartment building and found it unsurprisingly vacant. Once a property on the up-and-up, home only for upper middle class families and above, the Civil War had done a number on the local housing market. Though long neglected, Atticus liked the feeling of sophistication the spacious marble-floored lobby provided as his shoes clicked across the scuffed surface. The elevator was in a state of disrepair and so he plodded up the stairs to his 4th floor flat, pushing through the stairwell door and sighing at the smell of must that hit his nose. Dim lights overhead flickered occasionally as he stopped before #43 and attempted to fish the keys from his pocket with hands full of groceries. He managed to retrieve them just as one bag went tumbling to the floor, sending a few cans rolling across the stained carpet. Cursing aloud, Atticus dropped down to his knees to retrieve them when a sudden voice from behind caused him to jump. "I think you dropped this..."

"Damnit, Sarah!" The young man snapped as he spun to face the freckled smile of his neighbor from #44. He quickly snatched the can from her outstretched hand, his scowl doing little to dissuade her cheerfulness as she giggled.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to sneak up on ya, Blake! Sarah casually flicked a lock of curly red hair out of her face before bending down to help with the rest of the groceries. Atticus didn't immediately respond as he grabbed the last can, stuffing it into the bag with a tightlipped frown on his face. This time Sarah looked over to him a much more sincere look of apology on her face. "Sorry... I really didn't mean to upset you..."

With a long sigh Atticus faced her again and grumbled. "It's not that... I just..." He ground his teeth at the thought of opening up to this girl he'd only known a few months but he couldn't much stand the sad twinge in her eyes. Besides, he'd already started explaining so he might as well finish. "I just try not to let anyone sneak up on me, alright? I try to stay alert and you caught me unprepared."

Sarah gave a sort of awkward chuckle as she regarded him with a slight tilt of her head. "Why? It's not like someone's after ya."

"Right..." Was all Atticus replied, forcing his mouth into a rather convincing smile. He, of course, could not tell her just how wrong she was on the matter; reminding himself that she would never be able to understand his situation. The young man really was angry that he'd be so focused on some spilled groceries that he wouldn't notice someone approach, that he wouldn't feel the thick red liquid pumping through their body. Enemies were looking for him and all it would take was one slip-up to bring him back to that horrible white cell.

Groceries in hand once again, Atticus turned back to the door and put the key into the lock...

And froze.

Suddenly it was as if the world came into focus and Atticus became hyper aware of his surroundings. Something wasn't right and his instincts screamed at him to notice the signs. But what is it? Nothing in the hallway looked out of place, out of the ordinary, but he could sense something.

There! Behind his apartment door he could barely make it out, the faint rush of blood through heart valves. One. Two. Three separate feelings behind that thin wooden portal. Realizing that Sarah had been speaking for some time but having not heard a word Atticus spun and cut her off. "Hey Sarah, I'm sorry but it's been a really long day. I'm going to turn in for the night."

"Oh!" She said blinking her bright blue eyes and seeming only a little bit hurt. "Y-ya, okay then. Have a good night Blake!"

"You too!" He smiled, turning the key and quickly shutting the door behind him. Atticus felt a twinge of guilt at how he'd left her but knew that she couldn't be dragged into this. The small entry hall was heavily shadowed from the failing light streaming in the living room windows but he did not flip the light switch, instead setting the grocery bags down as casually as he could manage while his eyes scanned every corner. They were there, he was sure of it now, three unknowns hiding in his bedroom, kitchen, and pantry. Knowing they would wait until he'd fully entered the apartment, Atticus reached up to the shelf of hall closet and retrieved a small duffel bag that was stuffed there: always ready to go. He threw it over his shoulders before pulling a small black flip knife from his pocket. "I know you're there..." The young man called out as he walked slowly into the living-room, hands out to his sides. "I'm impressed you found me so quickly. Father must have really shelled out for the best..." As if on cue the three figures in black combat gear and masks appeared, each one bearing a large stun-pistol that they wasted no time pointing in his direction.

"Put your hands up and we'll make this quick." The one in front said, stepping in threateningly. Atticus slowly raised his hands above his head, one still clutching the knife. "What's that in your hand? Drop it or we'll drop you." The young man's face remained cold as, after a moment, he let the blade clatter to the floor. With a signal from the one in front, the second soldier moved in on Atticus while holstering the tazer and producing a pair of handcuffs. The first clicked the radio on his shoulder, stun gun never leaving the young man who stared back at him calmly. "We've got him. Send in the retrieval squad."

The soldier reached up and cuffed one of his arms, pulling it down to his back, but just as he reached for the second he noticed the tiny trickle of blood coming from the hand that had been gripping the knife ever so tightly. Before he could speak, the red tendrils shot out and wrapped him around the neck. He let out a choked cry of surprise as they quickly constricted his windpipe. The leader fired his stun-gun in alarm but Atticus was already moving, whipping the tangled soldier around to use as a shield. The prongs went into his chest and the young man wasted no time launching the twitching, jerking body at his comrades. Struck hard by the projectile, neither of the remaining soldiers could react as Atticus jumped through the glass window and landed on the fire-escape. Without a moment of hesitation he rolled over the edge as if to plummet to the alleyway bellow but instead more tendrils of bright crimson stretched out from a few of the dozen small cuts on his arms and face and wrapped around the metal, lowing Atticus safely to the street.

The sound of sirens already filled the air as the retrieval squad answered the call of the containment team and Atticus knew they would be combing the entire area for him in a matter of minutes. He took off on foot, running deeper into downtown Brooklyn and hoping he could reach the gang-controlled territory before they ran him down.

LupusIntus Character Datasphere

Name: Atticus Tyren

Alias: Blake Rowe

Age: 22

Personality: At the best of times Atticus is self-absorbed, sarcastic, and abrasive. He often looks down on those who annoy him (which is a rather easy thing to do), those who lack class or tact, those who whine about their problems, and those who act superior to others (which is rather ironic considering he has an air or superiority at all times). Atticus is quick to insult and slow to apologize, often talking down to others for no apparent reason. Despite these rather difficult-to-handle mannerisms he is not a bad person at heart and is sometimes prone to sudden acts of kindness and empathy, though they are often accompanied by some snarky excuse.

When deadly serious, all manner of attitude and insult disappears as Atticus becomes single-minded in his pursuit. He will not rush in foolishly and will instead approach an obstacle with a cold and calculated cunning that is frightening to behold. When a true goal is at hand, he will stop at almost nothing to achieve it and will not hesitate to destroy anything, or anyone, in his path.

Being born and raised in the upper crust, adept at hiding his true nature. Atticus found it rather easy to blend back into ‘normal society’ after the Civil War. Through tact and manipulation, he is able to maintain a façade of normality that has fooled most of those around him. Inside, however, he despises the upper class and the government who sought to use him as a weapon. When faced with government workers, collection squads, soldiers, and the like he is prone to reacting violently and without mercy.

Appearance: Atticus stands about 5’10” with a light wispy build, fair skin and dark eyes. He is quite handsome, with a strong jaw and full lips, and his wavy brown-blonde hair is always carefully styled to give him a sleek modern look. His clothes don’t quite match up to the same level of style as he's usually seen in a light brown jacket over a button-down shirt and jeans.

Powers: Blood Manipulation – Atticus is able to control his own blood through force of will: bending and molding it into various shapes and changing its consistency outside of his body. At its most basic form, the powers allow him to create tentacles or spikes up to 5 or 6 meters in length. By manipulating the platelets within the blood he is able to make weapons that can pierce or cut surprisingly strong materials like body armor, some metals, and even concrete. Due to the nature of this power, Atticus must create self-inflicted wounds in order to draw the blood out of his body. This gives him a certain advantage when fighting enemies who leave lots of cuts or gashes as the strength of his ability would slightly increase as he sustained more injury.
As this power develops Atticus will be able to extend the range of his manipulation, create more complex shapes with his blood, and sense the blood of others. This will eventually lead to a slight amount of influence over blood that is not his own which will grant him many useful and deadly abilities.

Weaknesses and limitations:
Blood Loss – As would be imagined, the more Atticus uses his powers in a short period of time the weaker he would become as blood is inevitably lost through his manipulation. This can lead to light-headedness, dizzy spells, unconsciousness, and even death if not kept in check.
Required Outlet – Due to the fact that his blood must come out of his body in order for him to use it, Atticus is put at an extreme disadvantage when fighting enemies who do not cause blood-drawing wounds.
Short Range – At Atticus’ current level of mastery, he is only able to extend his powers about 6 meters from his body.

History: Atticus was born on the upper east side of New York City to his mother, Eliza, and his father, Senator Ames Tyren, a very powerful and influential man in the political circuit. The younger of two sons by three years, Atticus found from an early age that his parents held no particular love for him and was constantly overshadowed by the accomplishments of his brother, Emerson. If Atticus got an 'A', Emerson got an 'A+'. If he got silver in the national tennis circuit, his brother got gold. Nothing Atticus did or accomplished was ever enough to please his parents. Despite this obvious trend, Atticus actually loved his brother deeply and the two got on very well with Emerson often intentionally redirecting his parents anger and disappointment away from his brother.

This all changed, however, the day Emerson was killed. He was attending Yale University when there was a horrible school shooting led by another student. 37 students and teachers were killed that day: Emerson being one as he attempted to shield a fellow student from the gunfire. To the media and the public it was all seen as a random tragedy caused by an unstable boy and poor gun regulations. To those with enough power to learn the truth, the shooter had recently discovered a certain ability to hear others thoughts. The feverish scribblings in the journal confiscated from the boy's room indicated that hearing the mutterings and ramblings of everyone's mind at all hours of the day was enough to drive him insane. This was well before the great Civil War, before 'Unnaturals' came into the public eye, and so the government had certain protocols in place to ensure it all stayed quiet as more and more cases appeared around the country.

These protocols did not extend to the Senator Ames Tyren, who quickly learned the truth of the matter and thus began taking subtle steps to ensure these 'monsters' would be dealt with. And so it was that the first several laboratories were funded, all off the record of course, and the measures were developed to locate and contain those who might be deemed 'dangerous' and uncontrollable. They would be captured and studied in the hopes of developing effective countermeasures and weapons needed to protect the citizens of the United States.

After Emerson's death, things took a turn for the worse for Atticus. Blaming the death of their favored child on the life of their second, the physical and mental abuse became almost too much for the boy to bare. Still he worked for their affections in every way he knew how and received many awards in academics, musicianship, and athletics throughout his entire high school career. But even being granted admittance to Harvard could not please Atticus' grieving parents.

It was only a few weeks before moving to University that Atticus noticed something strange about him, or more specifically about his blood. He could make it squirm, twist, and move beneath his skin: he could feel it moving through his veins. At first he didn't understand until one night when he accidentally dropped a glass and caused his father to go into a fit of rage. Striking the boy, Ames sent him to the ground where he sliced his hand upon a shard if glass. In a moment of panic the blood that dripped from the wound lashed out and defended Atticus, much to the horror of his parents. Though he begged him not to, Ames immediately went to the phone and called the number of a special squad trained to handle the 'monsters'. With cold expressions, his parents watched silently as they came in and beat the boy into submission before wrapping a black bag tightly around his face and dragging him into the night. They drove for hours until they were far away from the lights of the city and when the bag was finally pulled away young Atticus found himself in the dim sterile cell that would be his new home.

For nearly four years he suffered beneath the scalpels and tests of the doctors who saw his kind as nothing more than a new animal to dissect.

They broke him down in every way imaginable, but at the bottom; when everything had been stripped away; Atticus found a sort of control. Through careful planning he bided his time until the moment was right and he struck, slaying his abusers and making an escape from that horrible place hidden deep in the northern forests of New York state. Through some miracle he made it back to the city, taking what he needed to survive the trip, until finally he'd returned to his parent's penthouse. There he found his mother, broken and withered from years of carrying a heavy burden, and though he'd had the intention to kill her she begged for his forgiveness at her mistake, saying they'd been too scared and grief-stricken to know what they were doing. Atticus immediately sensed this half-truth, for he knew his father had held no such regrets as the man led the country's crusade against the 'unnaturals'. He meant to wait for him, to kill the man who would send his own son to a fate worse than death, but it was taking too long and he could not bare to put such harm on his mother after seeing what she'd become. Instead he opened his father's safe and took with him an incredibly large sum of money and several incriminating papers regarding the so-called 'House of Powers'. Bidding a last farewell to his mother, Atticus left the penthouse behind and made his way into the world that now feared his kind and that would forever see him as an outsider.