View Full Version : Deus Ex Machina

Master Electrician
August 10th, 2008, 7:00 PM
Setting: In November of 2012, an explosion enveloped the center of Durango, Colorado. The infrastructure running the city was destroyed in the blast. Roads were already closed in expectation of a harsh mountain winter. Nearby National Guard units did not mobilize. For all practical concerns, the city ceased to exist to those outside of it.

Those inside found themselves in an unexpected situation. All mechanisms of governance within the city were gone and all contact with the outside was cut off. It was, effectively, everyone for themselves. Aside from the twelve blocks destroyed in the blast, survivors were plentiful and looting was good. Chaos swept over the city until a number of rival gangs established themselves several weeks later. The gangs took sections of the city, imposing a certain sort of order as long as they were offered their tributes and one stayed away from the borders of conflicting territories where a constant turf war was being waged.

This is the world you wake up into, a month after the explosion. The last thing you remember is a massive wave of heat, pressure and sound overcoming you, a blinding light, and now waking just outside the blast zone in a small building converted into a medical center. A strange sense of power flows through you and you realize that for better or for worse, you’re different than everyone else.

Background: After the explosion, all communication with the outside world was cut off. With the roads closed and the small airfield shut down, there’s effectively no way in or out of the city Four gangs took over control of the city. In the north, a group called the Ko’bal has control. They’re known for ruthlessly crushing their opposition, but for those who make no trouble, things are fairly safe.

A paramilitary organization calling itself the Counterinsurgency Front controls most of the west and south. Their loudly stated goal is to gain control of the city and institute martial law for the safety and security of the citizenry. As a practical matter, though, their tactics show little concern for human life collateral damage is taken as a given in their operations.

Escaped prisoners have taken a narrow sliver in the southeast. What they lack in numbers, ferocity and a life of vicious fighting make up for. Every civilian capable of fleeing from this area has done so to escape the brutality and anarchy of the prison gangs.

Finally, in the east, on the plateau where the college campus used to be, a number of conspiracists and survivalists have taken up residence. They claim to offer shelter to anyone seeking it, and indeed they do but very few can take the atmosphere of constant paranoia and suspicion that hovers above the place.

Plot: The home and world you knew is no more. You have the ability to change things; you can feel it burning inside of you. All that remains is to see how. Something is obviously wrong; a city does not simply disappear. A series of perfect coincidences like this does not simply happen. What’s the secret behind the blast that changed it all?

Of more immediate concern, are there others like you? What are they doing? Can what you are able to do now change anything, or is the city bound to kill itself off in infighting? Conqueror or messiah, you have it in you to be either.

Rules: All normal PC and RP rules apply.
This is a superhero RP. But I really would like to see some creativity in your powers. I reserve the right to veto it if I so choose.
No godmodding, character control, bunnying, etc.
I also reserve the right to veto characters as well. Please try and be creative, people.

Sign up:

Special skills:

August 10th, 2008, 8:11 PM
The girlfriend must join, of course!
Well. Unless the RP sucked. Then I wouldn't. But this one sounds so fun. Like the TV show Heroes. That first season was love. I have have have to watch the second D<

Name: She be Paige!
Age: Been on this earth for 17 years
Gender: Femme
Appearance: She has cute short hair, which is just a little bit longer than the average boy's haircut, that she decided to dye bleach blond, for fun, but it turned out white! She didn't mind, though. She likes to put comb-in-colors like blue and green in her hair. It turns out pretty well. She has a porcelain-like face and complexion, which is part of what led to the short haircut. Her eyes are an odd shade of blue, kind of dark. She's just a little on the short side, about 5'3". And she is a bit underweight. Something people seem to love to get after her about.
Personality: She is the very outgoing, independent, don't-care-what-you-think type who speaks her mind and can hold herself in an argument. She has strong beliefs and lets them be known, and also lets people have it when she's been offended in any way. She tends to come off too strongly to people, but is comfortable enough with herself and her friends that she doesn't let it bother her.
History: She was like any other normal teenager in high school. She was in a few honors classes and in her schools Debate and Civil Rights teams. She was even in a couple of productions in the Drama Club, but didn't like the whole "giving up your life for it" part of the deal. She lived in Massachusetts and was forced by her father to go visit her mom and step-father in Colorado for Thanksgiving. Her mom had just recently moved there to be with the "love of her life" that she met online, Paige had never been there before in her life. She was an only child, so she went there alone.
Power: Persuasion. She can persuade people to feel a certain way, sometimes act a certain way, and once in awhile get a situation to go the way she wants it too. She'd always been fairly good at persuading people before this happened, it seemed natural for that part of her to be amplified.
Special skills: She is an amazing liar. One of those people that could lie to a lie detector without being detected.

August 10th, 2008, 9:23 PM
Wow this looks great!

Name: Zephyr Insti
Age: 19 years old
Gender: Male

Appearance: Zephyr is not a normal teenager when it comes to physical attributes. His hair, for instance, is snow white in color - no one knows why his hair is the way it is, but everyone usually grows to accept it. The hair is cut short just below his chin and is just long enough to be tied up in a small "knot" if Zephyr so wishes. His eyes are also very unique, he figured out that it was due to his ability, and they are a nice shade of lavender purple. His eye color, lavender, eventually became Zephyrs favorite color and he incorporates it into everything that he wears - his right cartiledge piercing is included, as the small gem is lavender.

Zephyr wears a silver chain that dangles to the middle of his chest, and on the chain are three rings, of course in his favorite color, and they represent his siblings. His shirt is black in color, but the chinese symbol for strength is lavender and resides in the very center of the tee. His body beneath the shirt is toned and defined naturally, with a hint of his efforts from working out for six hours three times a week.

Lavender boxers covered by a simple pair of light blue jeans hide the lower level of the late teen. Finishing up his attire he has a nice pair of black sneakers and laces.

Personality: Outer Personality? Well if you were walking down the street and then suddenly someone pulls you into an alley way and stick a knife to your neck, Zephyr would be the type of person to run down the alley and put his life on the line for you - even if you are a complete stranger to him, he knows that it is the right thing to do. Zephyr constantly helps others, whether the danger be minor or major, and he has received a reputation of kindness and respect from many.

What about his Inner Personality? Rage is what fuels Zephyrs kindess and is the reason that he is willing to risk his life for anyone. The anger that fills Zephyr, against bullies and murders, keeps him in the "crime fighting" business - the world being filled with cruel and corruptive people.

History: Born into this world with both of his parents still in the picture, Zephyr was the first of four children who was raised to treat everyone and everything with respect. His younger siblings, born ten years after himself, just so happened to be triplets but they all could have been quatuplets - all of them, even with the age difference, being inseperable. The entire family was raised in Colorado, but when Zephyrs dad was offered a promotion the entire family had to moved to Durango when Zephyr was 16 and the triplets were 6.

For the last three years the family had lived in Durango and then it happened...now Zephyr is left alone - his family having vanished after the explosion, but he will not give up until he finds them.

Power: Manipulation of Kinetic Energy (Like Gambit)
Special skills: Black Belt Martial Arts background, Tracking skills and is very good at working with his surroundings.

August 11th, 2008, 8:06 PM
Name: Lunatheria Aphrodite Julietta McGaiver (Luna for short.)
Age: 20
Gender: Female

Appearance: Luna is a literal goth princess. Her hair is always kept in short, choppy black layers, occasionally dyed in other colors of very unnatural colors. Her skin is a beautiful, milky white against the black of her hair, and her eyes are constantly changing shades due to her stage contacts. Naturally, they're an ice blue. She wears varying outfits of blacks and reds, sometimes accented in tiny bits of pink, purple, blue, and white. Her clothing is always very "punk-rock" or "goth." She also always wears a studded black choker necklace.

Personality: Quiet and withdrawn from most of the world, Luna prefers to spend her time practicing Witchcraft, playing music, and painting. She's not very outgoing and doesn't make friends easily. What friends she has, she keeps. She's a very loyal individual with those she's close to. There isn't much more to say about her. She's your typical goth. Very deep and brooding. While she isn't obsessed with death, she doesn't have a wonderfully bright outlook on life.

History: Born to a meth-addicted mother, Luna was immediately taken by the state and thrown into foster care while her mother "sobered up." This sobering never happened, and Luna was stuck with the mouthful of a name her drug-hazed mother had bestowed upon the tiny, pasty child. As the years went on, Luna fell in love with the mountains of Colorado, and so, upon turning eighteen and getting kicked out of the system, the girl moved, completely alone, to Boulder. After taking a year off, she found herself in Durango, going to school for art. She'd always had a natural talent for drawing and painting. Now she makes a fairly decent living off her art as she pays her way through school. She doesn't expect to stay in school much longer. Especialy not now, since the incident. Luna is also a devoted follower of the Wiccan faith, and though she's gothic, she is not, by any means, a "Satanic witch" or a "black witch."

Power: Empathy, Clairvoyance, and limited Telepathy

Special skills: Limited martial arts skills for self defence, her powers with the occult, drawing/painting, a natural affinity with animals

August 12th, 2008, 12:18 AM
I'm going to poke you with my Suspicious Stick now. Furries are a no?

Either way I'll edit this post (or post another message, whatever's more convenient) with my signup later on today.

August 12th, 2008, 5:09 AM
What is it with you and furries?

Name: John Morbane Omega
Age: 25
Gender: Male

Appearance: John looks like the businessman he is. At work, he often sports the formal white dress shirt, ties of different colors, with black dress pants and shoes, and white socks. When meeting with officials or traveling in the name of business, he will wear a full-blown navy blue suit. When at home or relaxing, he normally wears the same dress pants, shoes, and socks, but switches out the collared white dress shirt for an ordinary T-shirt. John’s hair is black and cropped in a sleek, swept-back manner. His eyes are dark brown, almost black in color. He stands slightly taller than the average person, though not enough to make him stand out in a crowd.

Personality: On the outside, John is a charismatic character, friendly, a cheerful guy who always looks on the bright side. An intelligent, curious problem-solver, he always searches for a quick and easy solution, and has a good shoulder to cry on in a time of need. What one would expect from a successful start-up businessman.

But just beneath the surface of Mr. Omega lies a much more sinister being. While many people consider him his friend, he himself does not return the favor. John has no friends, and doesn’t want any. Secretly, he takes a sadistic pleasure in the torment of others, and to a small degree, himself, although he doesn’t go around slicing himself with a knife. In reality, John has little he really cares about, which, to a degree, includes himself. John is the kind of person who takes glee in war, senseless murders, mob action, gang violence. John is the kind of person, who, when he hears of a natural disaster, only wishes for the death toll to mount higher. He doesn’t care who wins or loses; he only wants to watch the world burn.

History: John Omega was born into poor circumstances. While his mother was a doctor, living in the upper-middle class of the spectrum of wealth, his father was a poor alcoholic who sold drugs on the side of the street as an additional way to make money in addition to his job working in the kitchen at a local McDonald’s. John was an “oops” child, his parents only got married when they knew they had a son coming on the way. But the marriage didn’t work out; when his father showed his less-charming side to John’s mother, the two quickly divorced after only two years. His mother, refusing to have to do with anything coming from her ex-husband, pushed her son off into the much-less capable hands of his father. Regularly abused as a child, this drove John to work for success, eventually taking up a career in business. His experiences at school were little better, going to a poor-quality public school only fostered his belief that humanity was rotten. Graduating from his high school on the honor roll, John was accepted at Harvard University’s sector for business, but dropped out after a few years, although not before he got his Bachelor's degree. By now his disposition towards the world had been solidified, and he saw every action of man, even the ones others would see as friendly, kind, and giving, as a sign of how wicked man really was.

Many business were eager to hire him, and John quickly started work in a small start-up corporation, the evil of which he regarded second only to the evil of government. A business meeting was required in Durango, but everyone else who was qualified to attend the meeting was busy, so John was sent. The meeting was with a supplier whom the owner of which the CEO of the corporation John worked for knew personally, so they figured that there wasn't that much damage he could do anyways.

Power: Manipulation of electromagnetic fields. (need explanation?) John’s body has become a natural capacitor with near-infinite storage capacity, and can unleash pent-up electrical energy at will. He can bend electrical energy to his will, causing it to bend and arc as he wishes, to go from a wire to his body for storage, or vice versa. He also can manipulate magnetic fields to an amazing degree, giving him precise control over magnetic metals. His control over magnetism, however, is directly related to how much charge he has stored in his body, the more charge, the stronger the fields he can create and manipulate, and the heavier the objects he can control.

Special Skills: Uhh… he’s good with computers. Not 1337 h4x0r good, mind you, but he knows them better than most people.

Master Electrician
August 12th, 2008, 5:47 PM
Darkhaven-Before the explosion, that'd be a no. You couldn't have grown up as such. But obviously, your physiology has changed some, it's entirely possible that you are post-accident.

Lusankya-I'm a trifle dubious about your character's age. I expect to see a good explanation of why he's on that track without at least an undergraduate degree. Other than that, you're greenlighted.

Everyone else, you're good.

Name: Ryan Vilderkamp
Age: 23
Gender: Male

Appearance: Ryan has the stereotypical appearance of an enlisted soldier, and actually looks like something straight out of a recruiting ad. He has blond hair in a crew-cut, ice-blue eyes, a strong jawline and cleft chin. He's tall and broad in shoulder and chest. When not in uniform, Ryan is typically dressed in a polo shirt tucked into blue jeans with a simple belt to hold them up. His foortwear (again, when not in uniform) consists of black biker boots that he tucks his jeans into.

Personality: Two and a half tours in combat zones have given Ryan a very grim outlook on people as a whole. He bears a particular hatred for the U.S. government in general, having seen friends die time and again because of DOD bungling. He also bears a great deal of anger towards hawks and those who believe that Iraq is the main front in the war. Since a field promotion to Sergeant, he's begun to develop a commanding persona that expects orders to be obeyed when they're given and has a very short temper towards being questioned.

Prior to enlisting, Ryan has a history of mental illness in his family, one that it is suspected that he shares in. Right now the most prominent sign is how easily he gets addicted, chain-smoking cigarettes and drinking, though his actions in combat hint at sociopathy.

History: Ryan had a relatively normal childhood, growing up in Grand Junction in a "dog and 2.3 kids" family. Once he was in school, his grades were average for the most part, and most of his interests, extracirricular. He took a particular interest in his family's history and has been secretly ashamed of the German side of his heritage sine learning that his great-grandfather fled to the U.S. after World War One became a losing cause for Germany.

Enlisting as soon as he was out of high school along with a couple of friends was his way of atoning for what he saw as his family's sins, as well as proving something to himself. Once in the Army, he volunteered for Squad Designated Marksman duty. During his second tour, his parents moved down to Durango, leaving him in an unfamiliar city during his next leave. His third tour, and his company's first in Afghanistan say his best friend killed and him severely wounded. He returned to Durango to be with family on medical leave when the explosion happened.

Power: Ryan is capable of warping the gravitational forces around an object to make it travel much slower or much faster than it otherwise might

Special skills: Everything one might expect of a soldier from a combat unit, and a little extra. Ryan is a crack shot with either a rifle or a sidearm and was due for Sniper training before he was promoted and declined to care for the soldiers in his command.

August 14th, 2008, 6:24 PM
Edited his age to 25 and added a part saying he had his undergraduate degree, as well as an explanation for why he was sent on this business meeting.

Master Electrician
August 14th, 2008, 8:10 PM
<OOC>All right, y'all, let's get this started. Any future out of character posts should go in the designated thread unless you have a damn good reason.<OOC>

Mountain fighting was brutal. For the young man crouched behind a boulder, the thought that it was worse than city fighting flickered through his mind. He steeled himself and flipped his rifle to burst fire before popping up from behind the rock and shooting uphill at his distant targets. The scope helped a little, but the rocky terrain provided cover for both sides in the skirmish. He started jogging to the side and slightly uphill, sweeping fire back and forth across as much of the enemy position as he could manage.

Another boulder provided him with some cover to duck behind before someone like him with a good eye and a good rifle but better position could get a bead on him. He took a quick look from behind his makeshift shelter and cursed under his breath. One of them had an RPG aimed vaguely in his direction. The blast radius would probably be enough to injure him badly enough that he'd be out of the fight. Maybe kill him. He picked up and ran straight in a continuation of his diagonal path. He heard the projectile fire and picked up his pace.

And ran right into something solid an warm. They both went down and he found himself staring into the face of his best friend, the kid he'd known since third grade. Then it didn't matter, the world went white and his ears heard nothing but ringing.

Ryan sat bolt upright in bed. It looked like a field hospital and for a moment, he thought he was back in Afghanistan right after the skirmish he'd been dreaming about. His ears were even ringing a little. But it wasn't the one he'd woken up in precisely. The walls were cinderblock, not canvas. The light was substandard instead of almost blindingly bright. And it was dank, cool, even a little chilly.

That, and he didn't hurt like he had the last time. The doctors had had to pull pieces of shrapnel and bone from his calf, his hip, and a couple of spots in his abdomen. He still had the scars. But curiously, his hip didn't seem to ache like it usually did after he'd been sleeping. They'd told him that would go away but an overnight recovery seemed unlikely. And this certainly wasn't the guest room at his parent's home.

Come to think of it, he hadn't gone to sleep that he could remember. He'd been downtown, taking a walk. They'd told him walks would help build the muscle back up, he'd been in the town's Civic Center and... That was the last thing he remembered. Except feeling better and waking up here. He fumbled for his nightstand and the pistol he kept there. There wasn't a nightstand. This wasn't his parents house. He needed to clear his head. Stupid stupid stupid.

Looking around, Ryan saw other beds, most filled with sleeping forms. There was a door at one end and four lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. A door was set into one of the simple cinderblock walls. Not much else to define the place.

"Medic!" he shouted. "Where the **** is a goddamn medic?"

August 14th, 2008, 8:35 PM
Luna had been awake for quite some time. In fact, she had been awake when the ambulance had come to retrieve her. She had been awake while the man in the rushing vehicle had told her she was going to be fine. She had been awake while the doctor twisted a melted hunk of steel from her leg. She had been awake while they dressed the wound. For some reason, she wasn't feeling the pain.

The woman sighed and brought a hand to her forehead, brushing away a few beads of sweat collecting about her brow. She supposed she probably had a fever from the shock, but that same shock had saved her a lot of pain and suffering after the explosion. And a white-hot explosion it had been. Or something like that. Down in the Square. So many people had been injured. Most of them were currently sleeping or passed out, and those that weren't were moaning with the pain of the injuries they had sustained.

Luna sighed and brushed a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear, knowing full well that her meticulously drawn emo trails had been completely ruined by the accident. She reached over the side of her bed, doing her best not to disturb the leg currently held together by a lot of bandages and stitches. It would be a long healing process, she had been told.

Off the side of her bed was the backpack she had been carrying when the blast hit. Surprisingly, despite the injuries to herself, the contents of the backpack had been relatively unharmed. A little singing to the outer layers of canvas, but other than that, she had saved everything inside. Which was fantastic news to her. Luna smiled to herself and pulled out a dingy sketchbook and a graphite pencil, flipping to the page she'd been working on when the blast hit.

Maybe it was the morphine hazing her judgment, but she got right back to work on that sketch. Her hands worked with a slightly lopsided slant from that drug-induced pleasure, adding a rather trippy look to the man in the drawing. He had already ripped his heart out and was attempting to stuff the hole with a wad of cash.

Suddenly, the man in the bed next to her sat bolt upright in his hospital bed. He was screaming for a medic.

"Shut your trap," Luna hissed at him. "You're in a ****ing hospital. The medics are all extremely busy at this moment patching people like me up. Unless you're dying, I suggest biting your tongue and letting them do their jobs."

She cast a sidelong glance at him. Her eye make-up gave her a very hollow appearance, and the sweat and blood still clinging to her cheeks and hair didn't help much. She mumbled an apology for her outburst before going back to work on the sketch.

"You know what happened?" she queried.

August 15th, 2008, 5:29 AM
The sounds of two people yelling caused Zephyrs mind to reboot, but while he was awake his eyes remained closed as he listened to the screaming - the first one having come from a guy, one who seemed to be confused and just woken up, and the second from a girl basically telling him to shut the hell up with a "she'd kick his ass" kind of tone. Zephyrs mind wandered, trying to think about the last thing he had been doing before waking up here - the thought of him being in a hospital scared him and he wanted to know what had happened to his family and if they were all right.

Lets see..the last thing I was doing was..uhh, crap what the hell was I doing? OH! I remember know, I was running to the corner store for mom - we'd run out of juice for the triplets, but where was dad? I'm pretty sure he hadn't been at work that day, but he definitely wasn't around the house - perhaps he was in the garage again, working on god knows what.

Zephyrs train of thought was interuppted by the girls voice, this time in a much calmer tone, as she asked the guy if he had known what happened - any information about how at least three people, but most likely more, ended up at the hotel. Zephyr decided that it was time to join the conversation seeing as he was awake, trying to go back to sleep would not work out well with the coming discussion.

"You know," started Zephyr, who this whole time had been facing away from the two people on the opposite side of the room, "its not very polite to be screaming, especially in a hospital, when people are sleeping - who knows who'd you wake up or, even worse, anger. Luckily for you, I am not a cranky person when I wake up/get woken up."

It was now that Zephyr rolled over, a pain racing up his leg as he did so, so he could actuly open his eyes and look at the people he was talking to. The pain had eminated from his ankle which, from past experiences, he knew meant he had sprained it - thank god, another broken bone and his doctor would probably start just breaking them himself and signing him up for The Guiness Book of World Records. Slight pain showed on his face, but it soon disappated as Zephyr had been used to such injuries. Zephyr looked at both of the people, glancing them over quickly, and took in the fact that girl had obvious injuries and the guy did not, but he wasn't a doctor so he probably had some internal injury.

"So guy," Zephyr said looking over at the man who'd screamed first, "do you know what happened? From my intuitive listening, I've learned that this beautiful young lady does not."

While Zephyr awaited the mans response, to both his and the girls dublicate question, he listened to the background noise of the world around him - namely, the hospital. The sounds of rushing feet and squeeking wheels was what caught his attention most, meaning lots of doctors and nurses were at work with gurneys and wheel chairs - the casualties must have been great, but still the reason why hasn't been found. Zephyr began to think about what could have caused such damage.

A bomb? But what kind of bomb is the question. Maybe there were multiple bombs throughout the city. Could there have been a gas released into the air somehow? The bigger question is WHO did whatever they did? Terrorists? The Mob? The Mafia? What other big time organzations are out there? Oh yes, there is the biggest one of them all - The US Government. Who knows what types of projects and experiments they've been running, one of them probably got out of control and now innocent civilians are punished for it. Whatever the reason, I am going to figure it out and fix it.

Zephyrs rage began building up, but he slowly started thinking about all the good times he had in the past to calm himself down - right now would be a good time to lose his cool, especially when he's trying to work with others to figure out what exactly had happened. His face, which had begun to scrunch up with his anger, now had a seemingly "happy" look - well, as happy a look somone could have at this time.

August 15th, 2008, 9:34 AM
"Ow, ****," I complained as a voice woke me. First I was irritated. Then I was completely confused. Then I was a little afraid. All in about one second. Then I was sitting upright in my bed. My head was spinning. This wasn't my room. Not my familiar room back in Mass, and not my guest room in my mom's house in Colorado. Where the hell was I?

From the smell, and the looks, it was a hospital. How did I end up in a hospital? I looked over my body, but nothing seemed wrong. Until I tried to turn my head and felt a brace on my neck. I ripped it off, what an embarrassing thing those were. Besides, my neck felt fine. But how did I end up with one?

I lay back down and tried to think back, not bothering to listen to the obnoxious sounds of the people beside me. I thought back to the most familiar thing, home in Mass. I left to go to the airport, said good-bye to my dad, got on the unfamiliar plane, took the unfamiliar ride to Colorado, met up with my mom and her new romantic interest. Now it got more confusing because there were even more unfamiliar things. My mom's house, the guest room, the bathroom, the food. The freaking news channel! But I was there for a few days. Mom and I were talking, or maybe fighting, that seemed more likely, her boyfriend told us to check out something on the news.

And then I don't know. I rubbed my aching head. I didn't freaking know. I groaned in exasperation. I didn't like not knowing things. It wasn't my style.

I jumped up out of my bed. "I gotta go find my mom," I mumbled to anyone who would listen and try to stop me. But no one had to. It didn't matter. My head was spinning like a draydel on Hanukkah. I sat back down. "I gotta go find my mom in a couple of minutes," I rephrased.

August 15th, 2008, 5:04 PM
John woke up to the sounds of people talking.

People talking? He lived alone. He had always lived alone, and he had always preferred to be alone. To have people around when he was sleeping was anathema to him. He didn't trust people that far. Not even his parents. He knew all too well what evil humans could perform.

He opened his eyes, and abruptly closed them again and piercing white light screamed onto his retinas. Painful light. Too bright. Trying again, he opened his eyes just a sliver. Florescent lights. Strange. He definitely wasn't home. He wasn't in his hotel room. Where was he? Had he passed out on the floor during the meeting? That wouldn't look upon his job record favorably at all. However evil he might consider it to be, he still needed money to live.

No, the material he was laying against was far too soft. There was what felt distinctly like a pillow, a soft, fluffy substance he was lying on, and what might have been blankets covering his body.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and squinted around the room. He was in a bed. There were other beds, with people in them. A hospital? he asked himself.

"I gotta go find my mom in a couple of minutes," a girl, looking to be a teenager, in the bed next to him murmured so softly he barely understood what she said. John felt a pang of annoyance, but hid it from his face. He disliked children. Even when he was one, he disliked kids younger than him. They were so... difficult.

What was he doing in the hospital? He whacked the side of his brain, trying to knock some memories back in, jar his brain cells a little.

He gasped as the memories came flooding back. An enormous explosion, white-hot flames, pain searing through his body as he was thrown around like a rag doll. Memories of a devastated town center, hundreds, maybe thousands of people, innocent civilians, screaming in pain, the sounds of the dying, the sounds of those in the embrace of pain, that of despair.

He couldn't help it. It was so incredibly amusing. Whatever the source, he approved of the massive amount of destruction and death the explosion had called. Vengeance from a God he didn't believe in. A chuckle, low and menacing, escaped his lips involuntarily.

"Wow," he said, still chuckling and shaking his head, "that was fun."

Master Electrician
August 16th, 2008, 3:07 PM
More people seemed to be waking up, most seemed to have no idea of what was going on, or if they were, the didn't seem to be sharing. Ryan ignored the acidic comments coming from the first girl who'd joined in this chaos resembling a conversation and swung his legs out over the edge of the bed, then sat up. He was still in his jeans and boots, though the former seemed a little singed. He supposed that the damage to his shirt had been irreparable.

Ryan stood, ignoring the goose bumps raised on his flesh as he left the warmth of his blankets and barked, "Everyone! Shut up until we know where we are. Unless," he stared pointedly at the first girl, "You have anything you'd like to tell us about what's going on." When in doubt, go with what you know. For the past five years, military life had been what he'd known, and it'd worked for the most part.

He took another look around the room. Not much else to be seen. There were more beds, but they seemed to be unoccupied. Other than that, not much to be seen. The door had a small window in it, he walked over to it and looked out. A hallway. Better-lit than this room, but otherwise nothing unremarkable. He tried the door. It was unlocked, but her left it alone for now, turned around and returned to the center of the room and said, "So. Who wants to share?"

August 17th, 2008, 5:55 PM
I started to stand up, a LOT more slowly this time. "Hell if I know, man," I said to Mr-Boss-Dude. I didn't remember electing him in charge. "All I remember is going to see something on the news and then feeling really hot, and then passing out. But hey, I feel fine now, so I am outsies." Glad to see that he had tested the door, I walked over to it and opened it fully, right as an older nurse came bustling in.

"Oh!" she exclaimed when she saw us. "So all of you are awake now." She gave Bossy pants and me a disapproving look. "You should really be lying down," she said in that annoyingly maternal manner that should be saved for mothers, not graying nurse ladies.

"Why?" I countered, not in the mood for being told what to do. "I'm fine."

"I can see that, but you really should rest."

"Listen lady," I said, sighing with impatience. Not only was she being too motherly, she was being annoyingly persistent. This wasn't going to be easy. "I need to go find my mom. She's going to be worried sick about me."

To my surprise, the nurse backed down. Though, she didn't look too pleased about it. "Alright, I'm not going to stop you," she said.

"Oh." I was caught by surprise. I was sort of used to getting my way, but it had never been this easy before. "Oh. Okay. Er, well, thank you." I turned to head out the door.

"But," nurse lady said, stopping me. "I don't know if you'll like what you see."

I shrugged. "I think I can handle it," I said, and headed for the hospital exit.