Status

Recent Statuses

4 mos ago
My grandfather had the heart of a lion and a lifetime ban from the Central Park Zoo. Rest in peace you strange, strange man.
18 likes
7 mos ago
My girlfriend is always stealing my t-shirts and sweaters... But if I take one of her dresses, suddenly "we need to talk".
31 likes
10 mos ago
I read recipes the same way I read science fiction. I get to the end and I think, "Well, that's not going to happen."
9 likes
2 yrs ago
My ex girlfriend had this really weird fetish. She used to like to dress up like herself, and act like a fucking bitch all the time.
11 likes
2 yrs ago
“I have 3 kids and no money, why I can’t I have no kids and 3 money.” -Homer Simpson
11 likes

Bio



I'm a mature man in age, but not in mentality. I love writing when I have the time and motivation for it. Supernatural, Horror and Fantasy are usually the genres I hang around most, but I'm not afraid to experiment with something new. I've made a lot great friends here, many of whom I met when creating the Red Hood universe, and am always looking forward to making more.

I tend to be a little raunchy and crude at times but if you can handle that, you'll have a heck of an RP buddy in me!

The Red Hoods: Rebirth
The Red Hoods: Initiates
The Red Hoods: Genesis
Red Dead Reckoning
X-Men: Avalon Rising
X-Men: The New Era
Cold Front: Tacitum
Crime & Devilry
Welcome to Ashton
The Fates' School for Gifted Monsters
TWD: Hell On Earth
Rebellion

:+:+:+:

Magnificent Bastards: The Many Faces of RedVII

Most Recent Posts

I would like to change from RedVII to RedXIII please.
Been avoiding it because of the Final Fantasy claim, but 13 has taken on a new significance in my life.

Thanks!
@ViolentViolet I'm totally cool with that. Tomorrow is shaping up to be a busy day offline, but I'm pretty free on Sunday and Monday to work with you on something.
Drake “D” Edwards



Interaction/Mentions: @c3p-0h, Open | Location: Danger Room > Pool > Dorm Room




Drake participated in the exodus from the Danger Room, but found himself taking the road less traveled, veering in a direction away from the others. His body was clenched and rigid as he walked. It was hard enough maintaining absolute control of himself when he was alone. The effort needed was exponentially larger when in a social group, largely composed of those whom he was not familiar.

He found that as he walked in a manner akin to a robot, he began to pick up speed. Perhaps he felt if he moved away from the source of anxiety faster that he would sooner unclench and could enjoy a sigh of relief once the distance had hit a certain point. He didn't even really know where his target destination was to be. His only goal was simply to get away.

As he scurried along the hallway, making no effort to give passersby any special attention, Drake started to feel something all too familiar. Heat began to radiate off of his skin. It was a particularly unique feeling to the flame bound mutant because he was incapable of feeling the sensation of burning. All he felt was the movement in air, a foreign and forceful flow, a sort of breath escaping the pores of his epidermis. The sensation gave him pause as he looked at his arms and hands with a raised eyebrow and a face filled with consternation. He knew what this feeling was, but he hadn't initiated it or summoned what would come next.

A layer of mirage began to emanate from the surface of his skin, the heat creating an illusion of dancing visuals around his body. His clothes were beginning to react as well, slowly blackening and constricting at the edges.

In his mind, he could hear laughing. A grotesque, alien laugh of an entity taking extreme pleasure in Drake's unfortunate predicament. It only served to make the young man that much more distraught and angry. "You piece of shi-" but words were a useless waste of time at this point. Drake knew the heat around him was rising. Combustion was inevitable. He had to think, to move.

Drake shot out in a dead sprint. Taking a few specific turns down various corridors, he finally found one of the exits to the building which lead him to the open outdoor area of the institute. As other students were running laps around the academy's track, Drake found himself matching and even surpassing their speed as he made a run for the aquatic salvation just ahead. His shirt was littered with fresh burnt holes, becoming more tattered with each passing second as the heat continued to increase and spread across Drake's body. His jeans were a little more resilient, but even denim had its limits. As the Ashford pool came into full view, Drake frantically fumbled with his pockets before tossing out his phone, a lighter, and even his wallet.

With a graceful hurdle, Drake jumped the fence surrounding the pool area and, as soon as his feel hit the slightly damp cement tile, his face and entire head ignited in flame. The fire was quickly spreading down, enveloping his neck and soon taking over his shoulders. He was a humanoid candle and, for the life of him, he couldn't turn it off. With a thunderous shout, she demanded everyone move aside and clear the path between him and the highly treated water head. After a few more steps, he took another great leap and, while mid-air, his denim jeans finally surrendered to the personal inferno he inadvertently created. He was a bare cannon ball of fiery fury just before breaking the surface of the water and submerging himself with a quick but angered hiss as the flames were abruptly extinguished.

Drake let himself sink a bit while he remained in a floating fetal position. He could feel his body trying to rebel, trying to overcome the water and burn through. He held onto his knees and repeated to himself silently. Please stop, please stop, stop, stop, STOP! The low rumbling laugh persisted in the caverns of his psyche. The thing, the invasive parasite, was enjoying itself immensely. And then all of a sudden, he felt it. The unclench. The release. The mental sigh. Drake had control once more.

The relief swept over him and felt almost euphoric. The cool touch of the water, the weightlessness... It was like he was experiencing swimming for the very first time. Drake surfaced once more and swam to one of the pool's ladders. Before pulling himself out, he took a moment to enjoy this fleeting moment. This feeling that, at least for now, he was left alone in his body. He couldn't help but let a crooked smile form on his face. He almost felt as if, in this moment, he could sleep safely. For a second, he even considered the notion. First thing was first, though. Drake pulled himself up the ladder and stood out on the tiled cement and stretched.

It was a glorious feeling. His muscles were loose and his joints were at ease. The blood that rushed to his head during the process left him a little dizzy, but it truly felt good. That was until he heard a scream erupt from behind him and several other shouts of offense.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" shouted one of the students who looked at him with puzzled disgust.

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get all flamey or anything. I'm having a real problem controllin-"

"Dude, you're fucking naked!" he interrupted before pointing down to a smaller Drake. Drake's eyelids vanished as if they, too, were trying to hide from the embarrassment. With a splayed hand covering his front bits and his other trying to cover the back ones, Drake quickly and awkwardly left the pool as fast as he could in a hunched over side-skip. He tried to make quick work of retrieving his wallet, phone and lighter before realizing how far it was to his dorm room. Welp... Here's hoping I don't get kicked out... And with that, he hobbled toward the dormitory entrance.




That night, Drake found himself laying in his own bed in new attire just staring at the ceiling, throwing his lighter into the air and catching it. He knew the truth of the matter: It was obvious now that he was not going to be able to solve his problems on his own. He was going to have to start reaching out. He had only tried with a select few students, one of whom had left the institute. He remembered talking to Aya about her powers and her family, and he about his own. He thought to his parents and to his twin brother, none of whom he had come out to, yet. After he caught his lighter again, he held it still instead of throwing it. Slowly his head turned to his nightstand and fell upon his phone. Perhaps it was time.

Drake set the lighter down and picked up the digital device before pressing a series of buttons and holding it to his ear. After a few moments, the audio came to life.

"Hey Shawn, it's me. Yeah, I know, it's been awhile. I'm good, I'm good. Listen, I've got to tell you something. In fact, I've got to tell you a lot. Sorry if this is a bad time, but you might want to sit down..."
How does society work? Is Daxter and those like him who existed before the universal merger considered pokemon or is there a differentiation between intelligent man-beasts and pokemon kind? Does he look at Pokemon as indentured servants, given his own predicament? Does Dark Eco play any significant role? Will there be original pokemon that better fit the new universe or are you planning on using the established roster for this game?

What incentive do the Jak and Daxter denizens have to collect and fight pokemon? Do you plan on having an NPC provide pokeballs, proliferate that technology and explain to society how pokemon culture works?

Will there be an overall story and antagonist or will this be more sandbox with players just finding and fighting pokemon every now and then with a Jak and Daxter scenic gimmick?

Drake “D” Edwards



Interaction/Mentions: @Brioko Jobe | Location: Ashford Institute > Danger Room




"Names," Drake repeated, parroting the Matt's word. The elder student realized he had offered up what he could do, but not what he was called. Were these to be the soldiers in the next fight? The new crop of people who he would be forced to rely upon for survival against spontaneous and unexpected conflicts? Or were previous events a fluke and it was time to simmer down? He supposed it didn't matter. Might as well give a flash card summary of who he was.

"Drake," he said in nearly a shout, his volume unintentional. "When I came in, I had a biological resistance to the effects of extreme temperatures. I couldn't and cannot burn. Now that has evolved into a control of and ability to generate fire. I know my way around a wrench, I am no stranger to throwing hands and I enjoy the occasional sin or three." His thoughts went to his ruined cigarettes for a moment. He looked around the room before letting his gaze drift upward toward the ceiling. "I'm not really sure what's going on anymore. If we all end up joining hands around a fire by the end of our training then... great. I'll even light the thing. But I'm with Matt," he said calmly, giving the younger a small nod. "I'm a walking corpse right now... figuratively speaking. Exhausted. So let's hit the gas on this little pow wow. Some of you I know, some I don't. Who are you and why are you here?"
Drake “D” Edwards



Interaction/Mentions: @Almalthia@Damo021@webboysurf@c3p-0h | Location: Ashford Institute > Danger Room




"Those aren't..." Drake's eyes looked upon the ruined pack of cigarettes with mild horror. 'Free' was the last word in his mind, but he decided to leave it unsaid. Like a child being told to clean its room before it can go play, Drake reluctantly trudged back toward the danger room. Once inside, he found a wall and posted up.

"We didn't start the fire," he whispered with a bit of a mumble as he looked at his own open hand, his head leaned against the same wall as his shoulder. "It was always burning, since the world's been turning." Slowly, a flame fit for a small candle danced into existence in the middle of his palm. "We duh duh duh duh fire. No we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it..." His eyes were beginning to glaze over again as he watched the miniature fire continue to sway, spin and twist.

The crew had been through a lot in such a short amount of time. A social outing turned into a nightmare of hellish proportions rather quickly and now they were back in school, business as usual to be expected, with new fresh faces to boot who were undoubtedly being trained up to face the world's ugliness, too. Hopefully the new folks would get some time to learn to paddle before they're dunked into the deep end, but that's seldom how it works. He caught of glimpse of the more familiar faces, too. Cleo was no stranger, but it had been a while since he had really talked to Aya. And, of course, he was always content with seeing his roommate.

"So," he finally said in a volume loud enough to address the room, without really adjusting from his current melancholy lean, his hand still a platform for his fiery summon. "You all ready to get back out there and fight some more monsters, or are we doing something different today?"
Withdrawn. Lots of luck!
I'm bumping this for grins and nostalgia.
Good points, I'll give it a shot, thanks!
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