X-Men: United (Rated M)
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May 7th, 2013 (01:22 AM). Edited May 13th, 2013 by Aquali Umiko.
Roaring back with a vengeance!
Join Date: Apr 2013
I put the mutation AFTER the writing sample, simply because that is when I first address his mutation. I hope that is alright!
Les Ouragan ("The Hurricane")
Boyce is what most would refer to as a looker. Hailing from a family with devilishly good looks, Boyce has never had to "hurt" for anything that he has ever wanted. Boyce is known by his friends and family for spending a good bit of time in the sun, and due to this he has a fairly good tan going. Besides his golden skin, Boyce has a short but stylish head of chestnut brown hair that is finished off with a hint of blonde hidden in his bangs. Boyce also spends a good bit of his time working out and has an impressive but balanced amount of muscle, and spent all four years of high school on the soccer and baseball fields. Coming in at 6'2", Boyce is one of the taller members of his family, coming in second only to his 6'5" mother. In terms of his eyes, Boyce is a
character. There are days were his eyes are the brightest of blues, and there are nights where his eyes are the deepest of emerald greens.
There is no true singular color to Boyce's eyes.
In terms of his clothing, Boyce is a character of the brighter colors. Whether it is a neon green polo with khaki shorts, or a pair of tattered jeans and a blue sweater, Boyce will throw any array of colors together to complete his look. He's been known for pushing the colorful boundaries more then once in his good ole' hometown of Meraux, Louisiana, but he has more than enough toughness to back his clothing decisions up.
More on that to follow.
Despite the wide array of colors that Boyce likes to utilize with his wardrobe, he is not quite as open as some would expect. As a whole, Boyce is a guarded, quiet, yet respectful fellow of a good upbringing. Boyce has a mixture of a thick southern accent mixed with a
pinch of French
, and it is for this reason solely that he is more guarded then most you would encounter. Boyce has always been the kind to pour himself into his hobbies rather than his studies, and it was for this reason that he was a breakout athletic star at his high school in Meraux, Louisiana. This is not to say that Boyce does not have smarts, however. Boyce has a personality that will not let him simply ignore his studies, regardless of whether he does them when originally assigned, and will always find a way to do the necessary things to be successful. Also, he is not the "leech" type. If there is something that needs to be done, then Boyce will do it, and he would much rather do it alone over asking for help. This is not to say he does not work well with others, but due to his shy nature and personality he is not the type to strike up conversation, regardless of whether he is in trouble or not. It was due to this stubborn nature that he sought out athletics and the prospect of teamwork to help him break out of his shell, but even with such efforts he still found himself going the loner route. He found success in athletics, but at a cost...
He just seems bitter.
Apart from the way he carries himself in his athletics, Boyce is what most would consider to be a prick. Now, as explained, he is just shy. Regardless of that fact however, Boyce has not been the best at presenting himself in a warm nature. Even in his highest moments of success, winning awards, trips to playoffs with his teams, etc., Boyce still stuck to the lonelier side of the road. He pushed away any guy that seemed to get a feel of who he was, mainly due to the feelings of lust and romance that swelled inside his head (and heart) when such closeness occurred.
Yes, Boyce is gay.
Boyce is closer with his mother then his father, but that is not to say that there is any tension between the two. In fact, it yet again comes down to athletics. Boyce's mother was an athlete for most of her life leading up to her marriage to Boyce's father, and it was she that instilled the athletic mentality in Boyce.
The hunger for something more.
It is worth noting that as hard as it may seem, it is not entirely impossible to get to know one Mr. Boyce LeBreau. With a little work, even the most guarded of the guard can be cracked.
Like a tumbling mound of brick.
The story of Boyce LeBreau began shortly after the marriage of Mr. and Mrs.'s Sebastien LeBreau. Born to an athlete and a up-and-coming American-French composer, it could be said that Boyce LeCreau was never meant to have a normal life. Drove by his mother to the athletics, while constantly pleaded with by his father to pursue music, Boyce found himself being forced into deciding at an early age whether he would be a famous athlete or a respected composer. Starting Boyce in sports at just the age of eight, Mrs. Ilyona LeCreau signed Boyce up for both travel baseball and soccer teams, and it could be agreed upon that Boyce never had a true childhood.
Boyce was not always the shy, reserved nice boy you see.
He developed a rather unhealthy competitive nature at an early age, and losing was not something that Boyce (nor his mother) took kindly to. Boyce would keep up his sporting education throughout the travel circuit of both sports until the age of thirteen, where he would then throw one of his biggest temper tantrums in both sports to date. With his competitive nature and overall talent on both fields, coaches in both sports were demanding more and more of him, pleading for more of his time. It was then that he decided to step back and exit the travel circuit, much to the displeasure of both coaches. Also aiding in the decision would be a mysterious and frightening rain storm that arrived on the scene of a soccer tournament, washing away both person and goal posts alike. It was here that Boyce began to lose his "spoiled brat" attitude and began to truly love the sport (
), and despite no longer playing on the travel circuit for either sport he found a certain level of leniency in each sport once entering high school.
There's a storm on the horizon, sugar.
Leaving the higher level of competition for high school sports turned out to be a good route to go for young Boyce. At the age of 14 as he first entered high school, Boyce had already built up a certain level of notoriety for his athletic abilities. Boyce was one of the "cool kids", had plenty of friends, and always had a steady stream of girls that chased after him.
Wait, isn't this kid gay?
Yes, it was at this time that Boyce began to understand that when he hung out with the town "hottie", or the principal's daughter that he felt nothing. There wasn't a feeling of desire to kiss either girl, or any other girl for that matter, and that lead to a good deal of rage in the young boy's heart. Why couldn't he feel something for them? Was something wrong with him? Surely this wasn't normal...
Boyce began to channel the frustrations he was feeling into his athletics, becoming in a sense reckless, and found himself being penalized constantly for his dangerous actions. The anger just wouldn't stop building, no matter how hard he tried to stay calm, and soon the star athlete was more feared then he was respected. Of course, with his level of skill and ability neither team could do without him, but Boyce again found himself living in his own world. Outspoken at one time he was now quiet, dealing and tackling his frustrations all on his own in the noise of his own mind. The anger within him never got better, even after discovering at the age of 17 that he was indeed a homosexual male. His athletic abilities continued to grow with each coming year, and the athletic accolades kept coming in for the struggling Boyce. However, there was one thing that eluded the aspiring athlete.
A state title in soccer.
Baseball titles rolled in for Boyce all four years of high school, but soccer continued to elude him.
Finally close, in his senior year.
It was all right there for the taking. Boyce and his Chalmette High School Owls facing off against the Archbishop Rummel Raiders in a game that was destined to be played in the rain. The two schools were rivals in the regular season, with each team taking a win in their prior two season meetings, and both schools had made their improbable runs to the state final. Neither team was expected to be there, and yet both teams acted as if they had been there before.
The stage was set for their most dramatic meeting yet.
Both teams wanted it, both teams had their star players, and the rival was up and running at full speed. Boyce would score two early goals for his Chalmette Owls, using his strong legs and cheetah-like speed to fly past the competition. Archbishop Rummel was not to be outdone however, and would retaliate with their own brand of success with just moments left in the game.
So overtime it is.
Both teams would continue to gut it out, fighting (literally) for the ball with every ensuing possession. Chalmette looked to be seizing control of things with an array of smooth passing and blitzing speed, but Archbishop had different plans.
. With Boyce closing in on the goal and just the keeper in his way, the keeper took a hard shot at the legs of Boyce, sending him flying through the air. Boyce was hurt, or hurting, and he could feel the rain running down his limp body more now then he had when he was running. There was a crippling pain running down his thigh and into his left leg, causing Boyce to scream out in pain.
Everything went dark...
The specifics of the incident are still rather cloudy for one Mister Boyce LeBreau. He barely remembers standing, let alone the surge of water that would soon envelope both his body and those of the Archbishop Rummel athletes. He didn't remember trying to drowned them nor did he remember the conversation that he had in his head with a rather peculiar voice, the voice later proving to be that of
Professor Charles Xavier.
There had been no prior incidents with his powers showing, not ever, so that too had managed to mess with the teen's head. Why him? Why Boyce? Boyce had never messed with anyone, and he had certainly never bullied anyone that was less fortunate than he.
It wasn't a curse by any means, but it also wasn't something that he could brag about. Boast. People had fled in sheer terror when the water had began to fall, screaming loudly when Boyce began swirling it around himself and the others like a whirlpool. Of course, he had not planned it that way, but the simple minds of a small town did not see it that way. Boyce, once the star of "Meraux's Team", was now the town freak.
Oh, what a freak he was.
No one wanted anything to do with the young heartthrob, once adored by all, and matters were even worse for his family members. All sorts of things were thrown at them when they showed their faces in public, whether it be food or something heavier.
Life is so cruel.
Following the crazy turn of events,
things got crazier.
Boyce and his family decided to relocate to a more... Swampy part of Louisiana, leaving the life among friends and family for a more deserted look Boyce, already shy and reserved, struggled with accepting the move. Now sure he was different, and sure he had powers... WHY did life have to change in such a sick manner? His family too, resented him for having to leave their home of all those years. More time was spent in his room, hiding away from the eyes and conversation of the few that weren't scared or disgusted of the boy. He did a little work with his abilities, minor things, such as manipulating the swamp waters around the family home when no one was watching. He did not have a great deal of control over his abilities, thanks in large part to his own resentments, but he was growing to accept himself more with each passing day. Things weren't
bad, after all... None of the people that had chased Boyce and his family had managed to find their new home, as the few people that still cared to be associated with the family were every bit as careful as they could be when visiting. Of course, that wasn't to say they wanted to see Boyce manipulating water, either. They were still very resentful of that, in fact...
Things would again change, however. On the day of Boyce's eighteenth birthday, there was a knock at the door. Not one of the discussed knocks for their visitors, instant terror struck Boyce and his family. Was this the end? Had their pursuers finally caught them? No, don't be silly.
"You can stop with the water tricks."
The voice rang out, almost frightening.
"We are not here to harm you, we want you to join us. With our help, I feel you could really grow and understand your abilities better than what you do now. You are not a freak, Mr. LeBr-"
I'm not interested. Please, leave me alone."
Boyce was not used to the voices in his head being anyone then himself, so stringing words together was quite difficult.
"I am happy here. With family. I don't want to understand my powers, because I don't want to be this way. I don't want to be this person..."
"Fair enough, Mr. LeBreau. I have a feeling you will change your mind. Sooner rather than later."
The conversation, albeit mentally, was a conversation that struck Boyce all the way to his core. It was enough to make him stop manipulating water for a good two years, whether for leisure or other purposes. He would also go on the run, leaving his family and all the memories of Louisiana behind in a puddle of rash decisions. Life had to be better on the outside... Right? So much of what was going on in his world now was unanswered confusion, and that was something that he did not like. Running of course didn't seem to make it any better, but it did temporarily numb the constant flow of negative emotions in him mind.
Boyce would continue to live his life on the run for the next six years, straying further and further from the life of the mutated. He had learned more control, albeit incidentally, but there was still a certain hesitance in him to use his abilities. However, it was with the last attempted contact from the X-Men that Boyce finally gave in. Sure, he was living a different life, and sure he was happier... However, he wasn't as happy as he knew he could be. The X-Men, although a drastic change that he had avoided for years, were just the change that a struggling mutant needed.
Mutant... Still so funny to say.
Life wasn't getting any easier with the coming years, and the urge and fight in him to use his powers were at it's highest. If Boyce was going to be a mutant, then damn it he was going to do it on the path of the straight and narrow.
About as straight as a gay man can go is down a path with no bends...
"Yes.. Is this.. Is this Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters?"
"Ah, Mister LeBreau... I had a feeling we could expect your call."
"Yeah, yeah... Look, fella. Consider me in. I... I'm coming to your school, if you'll still have me."
There was a hesitation, followed by a small laughter.
"We've never turned a soul away, and we won't start now... Welcome aboard, Boyce LeBreau."
And so it all begins...
Who does something like that?
Pain was ringing through his body. His leg began to seize up, and he screamed out in pain, and yet all Boyce could hear was laughter.
Sick, manipulative laughter.
Here he lay, soaking wet in the puddled grass, unable to move as the action around him went on. Boyce could hear nothing and he could see nothing,
he had not the slightest idea that Archbishop had just scored the winning goal. All he could feel was the pain in his leg, with the pain now soaring through the rest of his body, and a building anger in his chest. He wasn't sure how he had managed to stand, and he didn't care. Not a damn bit did he care, no the rage was steadily building in his chest and it was like a ball of fire. Burning at him, fighting it's way up his throat and down to his finger tips... He wanted to punch something, he wanted to let loose...
In due time, my dear.
As Boyce began taking small steps forward, there was a new feeling in his body. The rage has subsided, and there was an eerie calm coming forth. He slowly opened his eyes, first looking to his leg and taking notice of the swelling around his ankle .
That's not pretty.
Pulling his socks down and removing his shin guards, Boyce nearly doubled over in shock. There it was again, the sick pain and aggression, fighting it's way through Boyce. He could hear and see things around him, and he could comprehend everything, but he was far from being "present". He tore his socks off, stepped out of his shoes, tossed his jersey to the ground and ran.
The target was the huddle of celebratory Raider players, all hosting their trophy and shouting obscenities in the direction of the Chalmette players and fans. They had not earned that trophy, they had not bleed and worked as hard as Boyce had... Everything that they were celebrating? It was false. Not deserved. That trophy belonged to Boyce and Chalmette, and he was damn sure going to make sure that they got it back. They were clearly more deserving because they were faster, because they worked better as a team, and lastly because they didn't play dirty like Archbishop.
"That trophy is mine. Hand it over."
Boyce was now standing in the middle of their huddle, reaching out for the trophy. The players from Archbishop Rummel had just barely turned around when things began to really change. The rain, which had stopped falling while Boyce lay injured on the ground, was picking up again. The puddles? The puddles of water that littered the soccer field began to dance in a way that seemed almost haunting, drawing many stares and comments. Boyce was the only person that didn't seem to notice, his eyes and his attention focused solely on the trophy that was now singularly in the hands of the keeper that had brought him down. A smirk had now found it's way across the face of the boy, and laughter began to erupt from the lungs of the supporting cast.
There it is again.
The anger was mounting steadily higher, and the water that covered the field was now dancing in the form of waves.
"Forget it bud. Chalmette lost, and you have no one but yourself to thank for that. Nice dive, by the way..."
That was the final straw. Boyce closed his eyes, his breathing slowed, and everything went black.
The rain was now falling at a faster pace, and the waves of water swarmed around Boyce and the opposing players. Screams could be heard ringing out in the crowd, and fear could be seen plastered across the face of the boys trapped in the whirlpool of water.
Everyone except Boyce.
Boyce was screaming in his head, trapped in the confusion of it all, longing to understand what was going on around him. He had lost control of his body long ago, to the rage and the desire for the trophy, and now there was nothing he could do. Trying to will himself to move, the sudden movement instead caused the water to rush towards himself and the other boys at a more rapid pace. The rain continued falling, only to join the puddles of water that were forming into waves. The last of the fans began running for cover, and soon it was just Boyce and the boys he'd trapped in the waves that were left on the field.
How did it come to this?
Where was this even coming from?
"Boyce, stop. You don't want to do this."
Suddenly there was a new voice, ringing it's way through Boyce's troubled mind.
"I can't control this! I don't even know what is going on. One minute I was mad, and then... Then... Oh hell, I don't know! This is all new, I didn't know I could do this! I'm scared... I don't even talk this much outside of my thoughts, why am I talking to you in here, now? Who are you anyways? How do you know my name? I don't recognize your voice, and quite frankly I don't like the fact that you are in my head right now sug!"
"All will be explained in due time, Mr. LeBreau. For now, close your eyes and breathe."
Oh this is the beginning? What a cruel beginning this is...
: Boyce has the ability to manipulate any body of water as well as rainwater, although he has little to no control over matters. Boyce first came into his abilities around the age of 17, during the state championship game for soccer in his senior year of high school. Before the intervention of a mysterious voice in his head, Boyce nearly drowned a group of opposing players in a whirlpool of water. He has sense learned to deal with his abilities a little better then when he was 17, but the level of control still continues to waiver on his mood. As stated, Boyce can manipulate any body of water, whether that be a pond or the Atlantic Ocean.
The possibilities are endless.
Now at the age of 23, Boyce intends to attend the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters in hopes of learning to better manage his abilities and to make friends that are more like him. This comes after years of running or
contact with the X-Men after the incident on the soccer field, trying his best to ignore his abilities and living in means that wouldn't trigger his aqua manipulation. Boyce has never abused these abilities, although he has managed to have some fun with it when at the beach or in the pool, albeit alone when doing so. The discovery of his ability has since made Boyce a lot more bashful, and he's reluctant to talk to anyone that doesn't speak to him first. It's also not uncommon for bottles of water to burst around him when he is nervous.
Also Known As:
Joey Darling; ohHeyVaporeon.
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