View Full Version : X-Men: Life, liberty

December 8th, 2005, 4:12 PM
Note: Co-author credit goes to Shiney for this one. He's the co-owner, and I trust his judgement enough to say that you'll do what he asks as you would I. Authority problem? Too bad, don't sign up if you can't take the occasional order.

Other notes: I do want a few humans in this, and a good distribution across the mutant factions. fgor humans, if you use a mutant chara, you MUST also play a human. For factions, pay attention to what you've already seen in other sign-ups and try to keep them even.

Plot: The war between the Brotherhood and the Institute is over, the threat of Apocolypse is over, and mutants have risen to general acceptance, power even. Power does corrupt, though, especially when you have the means to get almost anything you want. Many of the politically powerful mutants begin under-the-table dealings to increse their own standing and abilities. More money, more positions, and in particular... enhanced abilities through Muraille, and chromosome-altering drug that heightens whatever mutations are already in place. When Professor Xavier passes away, these dealing become more and more open, more and more brazen. Once again, mutants are seen in a negative light, now, not as threats, but as thousands of dictators-in-training. A hastily-passed law makes mutant slavery legal and many go into hiding. Several amongst them begin to view Magneto, long dead, as a god almost, the man who truly could have saved them. Meanwhile, mutant slaves are kept controlled by means of a reverse-engineered Muraille drug, supressing their powers now. Those who escape tend to be the most fanatic of these underground rebels. For years, the majority of mutants have spoken against violence, now, even elders of the old Institute/Brotherhood war see that for liberation, they must fight. Unfortunately, liberation is not the only thing at stake. A militant fringe group, known as Black Lotus as taken to purchasing mutants and killing them, trying to drive their DNA out of existance. Though no govenment condones their actions, none condemn it and many of their actions go entirely unnoticed. To any being now, mutant or human, pacifism is nothing to a rapidly brewing war.


Unaligned: Mutants still enslaved, or in hiding without having joined a faction.

Emerald: Led by members of the old Institute, Emerald is the largest faction and predominantly comprised of disenfranchised mutants, but those who have never known slavery.

Omega Squadron: More of a professional military organazation, Omega is comprised of the remanants of the Brotherhood and escaped of freed slaves. They advocate total mutant power and an organized uprising.

Dimir: Secretive, Dimir serves no know ideals, nor any faction. The most they are known for (if they are known at all) is a massive intelligence gathering network. The more paranoid believe they know almost everything. They're close.


--Slave/Free: (Mutant only)
--Faction: (Mutant only)
--Powers: (Mutant only)

RP Sample: (Required for everyone but Shiney. I expect you to RP at the level of your sample. Otherwise, you're gone. One warning.)

December 9th, 2005, 9:42 PM
Name: Pablo "Chipo" Chipolinchutli
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Mutant/Human: Mutant
--Slave/Free: Free
--Faction: Omega Squadron
--Powers: Like Storm, Chipo has weather manipulation powers. Unlike her however, Chipo seems to have a storm within his body rather than just the ability to control them. This supposed storm within his body gives him super-strength along with the ability to conjure lightning, storm winds, and rainstorms out of nowhere.
Appearance: Chipo is a 5'11" Meso-american child with shaved hair. His eyes are completely pupilless. He has a slim build and wears a pair of worn-out bluejeans with faded color. He wears no shirt, and his chest is scarred from wounds of unknown confrontations. He has a tatoo on his left arm of the feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl.
Personality: Chipo is mostly quiet and keeps to himself, but he has a ragey streak that often gets him into trouble. His short-temper drives him to fight and he will fight unmercifully against any foe, no matter how powerful they seem to be.
History: Chipo was a mutant child born into a rural village in Mexico. The vilage was one of the few Nahuatl speaking villages left in the country. Chipo would have lead the life of a poor farm boy and never discovered his powers had it not been for a fateful confrontation one hot summer day. A rich white farmer was moving in on the lands of the village. He ordered the people to move out, but they didn't budge. The farmer sent in a team of mercenaries to destroy the village. A mob of the local men and teenage boys gathered to try to defend the village, but they stood no chance before the mercenaries' fully-automatic weapons. The only survivor of the mob was Chipo, and his powers emerged when the mercenaries open-fired on him when he was seen to be the last one standing. Chipo's brown eyes suddenly became pupilless, and he mysteriously fired a bolt of lightning at the attacking mercenaries. The mercs that weren't killed by the lightning fled to their cars and helicopters. Chipo pursued them and destroyed each and every one of them with his newfound powers. He returned to the village with the news of the mercs being destroyed, but the remaining villagers only responded with fear. The little children began screaming "Tlacatecolotl! Tlacatecolotl! (Demon! Demon!)" The older villagers called him the reincarnation of the Aztec storm god Tlaloc. With his people rejecting him, Chipo fled. He became a victim of severe depression, and was captured by the mutant slave wranglers. He lived on as a servant to the normal humans, until he heard of the rebellion. Lost hope came unto him, he decided to join the Omega Squadron and destroy the humans that had rejected him.
Occupation: Since his liberation, unemployed

RP Sample: Pat dashed about the Pokemon Tower, through halls, up and down stairs, opening any door where he heard the faintest sound. Alana is being hurt, I know it...I have to find her soon. Haunters and Ghastlys tried to ambush him...but he ignored the ghosts.

He dashed up the stairs to the 5th floor and walked through the quiet halls, the only sound was the echoes of his hurried foot-steps. The stone-gray halls teamed with shadows. Pat ran right through a Ghastly. Pat coughed, but nothing more. He was more focused on saving Alana. He wouldn't stop now. Not after the personal risk he put himself into so he wouldn't have to betray her.

Pat ran up the 6th flight of stairs. This floor made no noise...yet it echoed of the pains of lost pokemon. Pat almost swore he heard a Marowak scream...but nothing entered his ears. Pat saw a young Cubone huddling in the shadows...shivering in the cold. The tower was chilly...but was the cubone shivering in fear instead? Pat looked at his arms as he dashed, his arms were red. He couldn't even feel his arms. He was in a tee-shirt in this cold tower...that didn't matter. His arms would regain feeling...

I can't be worrying about myself now...Alana might not have much time left. Pat, for the first time since he entered the tower, heard his teeth chattering. Pat ignored it and ran across the room to the door to the stairway. It was common knowledge that this top floor was forbidden...What Daimeon is doing is probably forbidden... Pat rammed the door...it opened...but Pat nearly broke his shoulder. He didn't care. The pain was bothering him greatly...but he pressed onwards.

This hall the stairway was in, was echoing actual screams...Alana, shes behind that door at the top of the stairs. I have to make it. Pat's heart was already pulsing from the run...but it began beating faster and faster. Like a chain gun was being fired against the inside of his chest. His palms were sweating...even though the air was nearly freezing up here. He could see he breath as he breathed faster.

Pat ripped open the door, to find Daimeon with his foot pressed against Alana's chest. Alana's body was cut up and bloody, she was limp and lying on the floor. How could he do this...not Alana...not the only person I've ever cared for. Pat's eyes started tearing up, he sniffed and said, "You bastard..."

Pat's face turned to an angry look. His fists clenched. Pat forgot that he was only 15 and that Daimeon was a full grown man. He forgot that Daimeon was an accomplished psychic who could toss him around like a ragdoll. Pat lunged at Daimeon, in an attempt to strangle him.

December 10th, 2005, 12:52 AM
OOC: Mutant haracters must have a human as well? I hadn't anticipated this, would it be all right if I edited in a human character later? I hadn't expected on playing one, and so I wasn't prepared. >_>

Name: Mymridon

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Mutant/Human: Mutant

--Slave/Free: Free

--Faction: Unalligned, but he's only waiting a little while longer to see how the dice fall to choose a path.

--Powers: He posessed what appears to be a short walking stick made of black graphite, but it's more than meets the eye. He has extraordinary speed, comprehension, reflexes, and other physical attributes such as stamina, and strength. He also posesses something he doesn't quite understand, a form of extrasensory that is in a word, insane.

Appearance: He has short cut brown hair, which has the look of never having seen a comb, with a medium-dark skintone. He has some minor acne on his face, enough to notice, but not really anything heavy. His eyes are usually bloodshot, and a deep brown with hints of green. His frame is very large, with his height at 5' 11'' and he can be intimidating witha stare that makes him look almost dead.

Personality: Usually, he is calm, or seems to be, without many emotions of any kind. This is mostly due to sleep deprivation, though. When he is well rested, he is fairly cheerful, if with an... odd sense of humor, and suffers from some of the symptoms from asperger's syndrome, and ADHD.

History: He lived a typical, human life, and as soon as he discovered his powers, he kept them a secret. It was relatively easy to, as his occasional episodes were regauded as slight brain damage. Other than that, he lived a normal life, school, work, and internet. Exciting, isn't it? Which is the main reason he's looking to join the main conflict, because he's likely to die of boredom if he doesn't.

Occupation: Restocker, cashier, and janitor of a local groccery store. Behold the marvelous glory.

December 10th, 2005, 8:49 AM
<OOC>Yeah, it's all right if you edit in a human later. I'm still tweaking mine, so...<OOC>

Name: James Crane (Ryu)
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Mutant/Human: Mutant
--Slave/Free: Freed slave
--Faction: Omega Squadron
--Powers: Catlike abilities, heightened sense giving him ESP-like reaction times. So too, his agility, flexibility and speed are heightened well above any sort of norm. He has short, one and a half inch retractable claws on each finger, of little use in a fight. He prefers the kodachi he works with. Though not strictly a mutant power, his own mutation has allowed him to achieve unheard-of mastery of the French discipline of parkour.

Appearance: Crane is a lither 5'4'', leanly muscular with curly brown hair and deep green eyes that much of the time seethe with hatred. He bears no physical marks of his slavery but the emotional ones run very deep. Most of the time he wears a loose black t-shirt, blue jeans and black combat boots. When on assignment, he trades them for the garb of an assassin. At all times he carries his kodachi strapped inside the back of his shirt.

Personality: Crane's hatred for humans runs deep. there is not much more to him than a desire to kill them, or, at the least, dominate them. Fanatically loyal to the Omegas he obeys every order and assignment as swiftly as possible. There is no hidden kind side to him, nothing except his loyalty and desire to eliminate. To this end, he is also obsessed with his training, pushing himself as far as he possibly can go.

History: Crane had never been well off. Indeed, for the first seven years of life, he was stuck in an abusive home with a drunkard mother. He ran away after the most he got for his seventh birthday was a black eye. he next eight years were spent as a street thief and pickpocket where he learned his mutant abilities and began to practice parkour. When the act was passed, his homelessness made him an easy target for the first mutant slavers. Indeed, they didn't even know he was and never found out. They were just looking for some cheap help, and no one was gonna miss a homeless kid. He escaped when he was seventeen, dropping into a sewer. There, he was found by Pyro and brought into Omega Squadron, crafted into the perfect assassin. There he has remained, the only deviation being when he snuck out to kill the three men who enslaved them.

Occupation: Omega Squadron assassin

Name: Andr Foucan
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Mutant/Human: Human

Appearance: Andr is tall, thin and lanky-haired, combined with his sandals, loose white shirt, round Lenon-style sunglasses, and faded, torn blue jeans, he presents the perfect image of the modern hippie-musician. He typically has a guitar case strapped to his back and one or more bracelets jangling about his wrist.

Personality: Laid-back, carefree, lax, pretty much anything you can think of for a guy just graduated from high-school (barely) and nothing to do. His favortie activity is to sit on a streetcorner and play repetitive, relaxing guitar music. Or, that's the image he likes to present. A member of a small group of humans attempting to liberate mutants, he's devoted to his work with a fervor that belies anything in his voice or appearance.

History: Andr has had had an almost entirely uneventful life. When he was 13, he was almost abducted by the same group of slavers who first captured the man he calls savior, "Ryu." He has had no further contact with him since, though he has been searching for him.

Occupation: Street musician/Mutant liberator

December 11th, 2005, 11:54 AM
This sounds cool! ~_*
For the record... I'll have you know that most of my posts might be rated Pg-13 or higher, I'll add the rateing to the top of every post.
((FYI~ the humen(s) I will also be playing will be the family that I serve who are active members of the "Norms Against Mutents (NAM)" empire))

Name: Morice P. Harrison "morph"
Gender: male
Mutant/Human: Mutant
--Slave/Free: "Slave"
--Faction: don't have one, noone cares enough about us.
--Powers: I have shapeshifting powers, in other words, (for those who don't know) I have the abbility to change into anything or anyone I want. that is basicly all shapeshifting is, now I know there have been many a shapeshifter in the past but my powers are more addvanced then theirs, how? well.... my master makes me use them so much that I've gotten alot better, as such I can be eather an exact copy or a slightly tweeked copy.....
Appearance:As a shapeshifter I can appear to be like anyone, but normaly and originaly, I look alot like nightcrawler, in a sence that, I have slightly blueish skin, red eyes, dark green hair, three fingers on each hand, sharp fangs for an unknown reason (I hate eating meat.), a long pointy tail and a slim acrobatic body shape.
Personality: Quite and modist around humens, but when I'm with my fellow mutents I'm known to have quite a mouth on me, no secret is safe with me, I love to talk to people, weither it is about something or nothing.
History: I was sold to the Marosht family at the age of six and have been serving the houshold eversence, when Miss Marosht died her husband desended into madness and has been using my shapeshifting abbilitys to have congicle sex with his wifes dead, decaying body, I pray every night that someone will come to my rescue, but unfortionatly not a single god has answered my prayers, I'm starting to balive that this is how my life was ment to be, to be a sex slave for the rest of my days.
Occupation: I just told you, I do whatever my master tells me to do.

RP Sample:

" Morph! Morph where are you boy!" A gruff old voice calls from the master bedroom on the second story of the seventy bedroom house.

" Coming sir." Morph answers from the bedroom right next door, where he had been placed when he had turned thirteen, (around the time the Miss's died), " I hope he doesn't make me do it again..." Morph begs to himself as he opens the eight foot oak door open, " You summened me sir..."

" You know what I want boy... don't act like you don't..." Mr. Marosht says throwing the covers off himself, he was compleatly naked underneath, Morph tried not to gag at the sight he had seen so many times in his young life.

The oldman's gurth wasn't the only thing that made one wish to empty his somach, it was the fact that Morph did know what he wanted, " Master please, I beg of you..." Morph started, but knew it was of no use, the old man's mind was made up.

Mr. Marosht only streached out his hand as though he had not heard him, " Come to me my wife...." His eyes seemed to be empty as he always did when he was in that frame of mind, " come and be with your husband."

Morph closes his eyes, there was no use fighting with him now, his only hope was to do what he was told, " Yes my husband...." He said sadly in his mistressis voice. As he said this he began to change, the infurnal iching that always acompanied his transformations took over his body. He could feel everything as it changed, his false cloths disapeared and he was left naked changing slowly into the form of his naked, and not to mention, dead mistriss. " I'm here for you." s/he said opening his/her eyes and looking at her/his master.

Morph climbs onto the bed as he had done many times before, Someone please help me..., He beged as his master began to have his way with her/him. " SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!!!" s/he screamed as his master entered his climax and didn't care at all of what Morph had to say or did, " IF ANYONES OUT THERE PLEASE HELP ME!!!!"

((If someone would help me I would really appreciate it...))

December 13th, 2005, 7:10 PM
<OOC>All right, everyone, you're in thus far. JBCB, I'd like to see better skill as far as punctuation, but its not a major problem.<OOC>

December 13th, 2005, 7:21 PM
(( *sweat drop* Hehehe... well I'm not to good at that sadly, I wrote it fast also, but... I'll try my hardest to do better OK....))

December 14th, 2005, 4:28 PM
<OOC>Now, we begin. Hopefully, things'll pick up as far as members.<OOC>

I dropped down from the ceiling, hanging from a support beam by my ankles. Dressed in dead-black, I was all but invisible as the guard walked beneath me. Dropping my arms to his neck, I extended my claws. Short though they might be, they were more than long enough to penetrate his jugular on both sides, killing him in three seconds. I dropped to the floor, deadening the impact of the guard's body as I landed on it. Immediately, I rolled to the side to avoid any further protection close by. Hearing no one, I returned to hide the human's body. So easily, they died. Just as would another tonight. A top aide of a one Mr. Marosht, I was told. I grinned, revealing small, gleaming fangs as I ran straight up a neighboring wallto a tiny alcove to wait.


I sat on the Parisian streetcorner, awaiting my contact within Emerald. Supposedly, they had another extraction for us to begin. This one would prove to be rather difficult, I was told, the mutant being a slave of the French Government itself.