Hope [R16+]

[Swolligator]

"When there is nothing left to live for and no one left to turn to; there is only Hope."


Hope, something you don't have much of. It's a funny thing that when your life gets turned upside down, the one thing you have left is hope; hope of a better future, a better outcome, a better life. But none of that matters now, where you were in the past and where you will be in the future mean nothing to where you are in the present. Right now you are an outcast, a traitor to your race, a heretic. However it was not you who chose to be like this; it was you who were chosen to be like this: a chosen few set amongst the rest.

Like your fallen comrades from society, you possess something extraordinary, something reserved for the television and comic books for people to awe over. You possess an ability of sorts, one different from each other out there that allows you to have extraordinary feats. From conjuring fire to changing form, animating sculptures to destroying buildings, you each possess abilities different from everyone else. No two people share the same ability. While some come very close to having the same ability, their difference is still there.

However, in today's society, having abilities is not as revered as it was decades ago. Now people are actually fearful and hateful towards those with abilities; even one's own family would turn against them as if they possessed some sort of deathly disease. With no place to call home and unable to contain the power within, people cursed with abilities do the only thing that they can; they go on the run. Many run to escape from those that want to kill them, in search for a bright future for them; a place called Hope.

Hope is something of a myth. A place lost to normal society bar legends told by drunken patrons and school children; a place where people with powers are said to live together in peace. The only problem is that due to the amount of discrimination in the world; Hope was long ago lost and some even doubt its existence, but for those on the run, finding the place called hope is their only chance of a bright future. The location of Hope has been lost; nobody but its citizens hiding in secret knows of its location, so many die before they can reach sanctity. A haven lost in time is the goal; one not many people make.

Finding a place called Hope is not the only problem people with abilities face. Religious zealots believe anyone with abilities to be demons that need to be wiped off the face of the earth. Average citizens feel uncomforted by the presence of ability ridden people within their midst. Practically everyone on the face of the planet is against you and your kind; only a few will aid you in any way they can. Even these kinds of people are as rare as yourselves. Anyone with a gun is likely to shoot you; the armies, navies and air forces of the world are actively hunting you. For people with abilities; the whole world is against them. Well, most of it anyway.

Outcaste by your friends and family, actively hunted by strangers and trained forces, treated less than human, you must go on the run, search for a long lost Hope that is your survival in this offal pit of a world. Others like you but in different ways are also doing the same, some longer than others, it would be wise to team up with others to better ensure your safety, but then again, two's a couple and three's a crowd…

Scattered in all reaches of the world, every year people run to survive and hope for salvation. The probability of these people surviving is slim, the probability of finding Hope even slimmer. A fight for the death against the world is your present and you must fight your hardest to survive, or perish in the annals of history.

So are you ready? Hope awaits.
​

SU:

Spoiler:

Main Information:
Name:
Age: (16-26)
Height:
Weight:
Location:

Appearance:
(The more description you use gives other readers and myself a better view of your character. Also means more likelihood of you getting accepted. )
Nationality:
Physical:

Clothing:

Personality:
(Habits, traits, flaws, weaknesses, strengths, and many things make up a good person and a good character too!)

History:
(It's your characters life up until now, so write their life down!)
Pre Ability:

Post Ability:

Ability:
(There is such thing as Human Ingenuity, so I would appreciate if you could use your imagination to come up with a good ability. Something straight forward like "Fire Manipulation" won't be accepted, make your ability match with your character and be unique like your character.)

Miscellaneous:
Theme Song:
(Because I'm weird like that and like to do things differently, add a song that you think suits your character. Trust me, sometimes it can be fun to see what person put, and also gives another approach for others to take of your character.)

Common Saying:
(Catch phrase, quotation, something that describes your character, as well as something that they will say often.)

Rules:

1) First and foremost; activity is a must. If you can't keep active in the RP (something around 2-3 posts per week), then don't apply. I've had RP's die due to inactivity. If you are going to be inactive for a long period of time, please notify me, and you will be kept in the RP, able to catch up when you return. Failure to do so will result in being booted out.

2) There will be no reservations, so it is up to you to get your SU done.

3) Secondly, I am the GM so my word is law, which means that there is to be no plot or character Bunnying unless otherwise given permission and Godmodding is an absolute no. You will get three chances and three warnings, once all three have been given then you are booted out. You have been warned.

4) Realistic and literate posts are a must. Sometimes taking more time to write a post makes it better. I would like this RP to be close to reality, so keep things realistic unless it comes to your ability. Having a nice long, descriptive post is much nicer than short one-liners, but sometimes, as in conversations, it is hard to do this, but include thoughts and feelings to add more guts to it. Using txt language will not be tolerated either, it's just messy and disgusting.

5) Thirdly, the RP is set for R16+ due to the level of reality wanted. So this means violence, but limited gore. No adult themes, but relationships are allowed. Swearing and cursing are to be kept to a minimum. Anything that is past this will get a warning for you to tone it down.

6) So I know you have read the rules, and not copied someone else, please PM me, in your own words, the main idea of the rules. You will get accepted once I receive this PM.

7) Overall, have fun and respect your fellow role players. It's not fun when someone slows us down or when they go "Superman" on us. You will lose more than you win, you are only human after all, and you just have the luck (or lack thereof) to possess abilities.

 

[Swolligator]

A Day In The Life of Michael Beleren

"…cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever, sorry I can't be… perfect…" The alarm was cut short as Michael turned the clock off at the wall. Drifting up through the veil of sleep, he awoke to the clutter of items on his bedside table light up by the morning glow. Groggily he turned over onto his other side right into the beam of light shining through his window. He closed his eyes as the light seared his weak retinas, however after a few minutes his eyes had adjusted to the lowly lit bedroom that was his. Now that he was awake, Michael had no chance of getting back to sleep, and his boss would have his throat if he slept through another shift. He forced himself out of bed and down the empty hallway to the shower; a nice warm shower that would hopefully wake him up enough to get to work.

After falling asleep in the shower twice, despite the water cascading over his muscular body, Michael headed out of the bathroom in just a towel; his destination being the kitchen. Michael's apartment was nothing flash, nor was it big. It had all the amenities that a single guy needed; a bathroom, a kitchen, a lounge, a fairly large bedroom and a study. However Michael disliked the place, it felt… somewhat empty to him, like it needed something to fill it up, but the girls he always seemed to meet wanted only his body, and to be in his bed; his love life was lacking majorly. However Michael for the time being just focussed on living and working; not to mention writing his novel, which now covered three of the four walls of the study, as well as a considerable amount of space on his hard drive.

A healthy bachelor's breakfast of eggs on toast, for the protein, and pulpy orange juice, for the vitamin C, was followed by a morning workout; press-ups, sit-ups, weight lifting and a variety of Karate Kata movements to keep his physical shape in check. Breaking little more than a sweat, he finished his workout with a nice spray of deodorant to get rid of the odour before getting dressed into his work clothes which were slightly tight against his muscles. Although not overly muscular, but noticeably, Michael always found that shirts were a real problem and often had to get sizes that were two sizes bigger, just to avoid ripping. A banging interrupted his train of thought and Michael looked towards the noise. Focussing on the point that it came from, Michael's irises slowly changed from his somewhat 'normal' deep blue colour to black, certain flecks obtaining a milky white colour. Out of the corner of his left eye the window became transparent, showing a clear sky outside; something uncommon in Lancaster, but his focus was instead on the woman who seemed suspended in mid-air where the wall once was, her husband hidden behind her figure. Michael saw a hand rise before he forced himself to look away.

When he looked back, the wall was solid once more. Letting go of the breath he had been holding in in a shudder, he turned and left for work, shaking his head. "What has this world come to?" he whispered under his breath as he descended the stairs. Already his day had been ruined.

Michael was feeling slightly better about the day when he got to work, the events of this morning wiped clean from his mind the moment he stepped through the main doors. He greeted all his colleagues that he passed, almost as if he was as 'normal' as them, but there was always that feeling in his gut; the feeling of being different. Being Inhuman. Michael feared people finding out about him, and was lucky enough that his ability was easily concealed, but he had seen what humans had done to people like him; it was nothing pretty. His own friend at high school had been lynched by fellow classmates because he was thought to have abilities. The memory burned into his retinas much like his own ability. However, keeping his calm was paramount, so Michael put his head down and began working.

*****

"The weather looks like it is going to turn to crap in a couple of hours," she said before returning to munching on her sandwich. Michael's colleague Rose was the one person in his company that he would actually talk to; the others seemed more preoccupied with their own woes and gossip about their colleagues.

"Yeah," he started before swallowing, "might actually snow soon-" Michael was cut short by a small snowflake that settled gentle to the ground in front of them. It melted as quickly as it had come, yet both stayed silent as more snowflakes began to settle around them; some staying longer.

"What the-" Rose started, drawing Michael attention from the ground to a girl running towards them across the snow covered land. Her footsteps barely made tracks in the snow, yet she stumbled along, running from some unseen enemy.

She was only a few steps away from Michael when a loud 'bang' echoes and she fell to the ground. Michael raced over to her, her crimson blood a stark contrast against the pure white of the snow. Tears flowed from the pits of her eyes as she gazed up into the sky. "hey, stay with us," Michael yelled at the girl, "it's going to be okay, we'll get you a doctor!"

The girl merely touched his face and gazed deep into his eyes: "Hope awaits," she said before her heart rate stopped fully and she lay rigid on the ground. Rose grabbed Michael and pulled him away from the body, tears flowing from his eyes, as a mob encroached on the scene, several jeering as a final snowflake landed on the girl's dead body. Michael was incensed by this tragic loss of life, how could they do this to this poor, innocent young girl?

"How could you?!" He screamed at the mob.

"She was one of them!" a man called out from the crowd. "A Demon from Satan's Realm!" another woman screamed.

"She was a little girl you… you…" Michael's tongue was tied as his emotions wanted to scream every foul word he knew at them; instead he released it in a completely different way. Blood trailed out from the corner of his eyes. In a fit of anger he screamed at them, his vision went fuzzy and a large explosion thrust Michael backwards through the air where he landed several feet away; unconscious.

 

[Skymin]

Today was Oakley's day off. She worked (if you could call it that) six days a week and today was the only day she could do whatever she wanted. Though, what she wanted to do and what she could actually do were two very different things. What she wanted was to go outside and maybe buy some brunch, go for a walk, see a movie, maybe even say hello to someone. What she was doing though, was lying on her bed, staring at her left hand. Not the one covered by small, metal plates, oh no. The left hand. The normal one.

The scratches on her hand were small, but the red against her pale skin kind of amplified how bad they looked. Seven on her knuckles, three on her fingers and five on the top of her palm. It sounded like a lot, but this was actually normal. Better than normal actually. Though, she did have long sleeves on today and she really did not want to know how many scratches were on her arms. Too many, probably. The scratches did look interesting though. When she stared at her hands, she could see where scars had healed over. Though she would could not tell you for the life of her how she gotten any of them. Each scratch was an accident, caused by her right hand. Her eyes shifted over to that hand, the alien one. The smooth plates were clean, pristine, perfect. It was as if her hands were polar opposites. One was normal and imperfect. One was abnormal and perfect. It didn't really make any sense.

The day pressed on and Oakley moved from her bed to her fridge, which was empty to her dismay. Great, so maybe she could get that brunch she wanted. There was a little shop down the road that sold really nice bread that she had been to many times before. So, with that, she grabbed her coat and her wallet and left her little hostel room. It was a hole, but it was home.

She grabbed what she wanted, a small bun, a load of bread, a cute little cake and went to counter. When it was her turn, she placed it on the counter and got her wallet out, waiting for the baker to give her the total.

"That's... seven sixty-five," the lady said, starting to bag Oakley's picks. Oakley fumbled through her coin pocket and grabbed a few dollars. Instinctively, she held the money out in her right hand and dropped it on the counter, the money clinking on the metal plates as they dropped from her fingers. Crap. Did she hear that? Did she see anything? Did she suspect anything? Oakley quickly snapped her hand back to her side, her hand clinking again. Crap, crap, crap. She blinked and shuddered as a pain shot up her right arm. Crap, it was moving. How far was it going? Aaaah, nope, there it was, on her wrist, growing. It hurt, it hurt a lot. She let out a small wince.

"Are you alright, love?" the lady asked, tilting her head a little. Oakley shook her head furiously.

"Aah, nope. N-nope, nothing at all. Hah, haha. Nothing!" Oakley gave a bleak smile and took her change from the lady, this time with her left hand, though the lady held out the bag in the other hand. Oakley stopped for a millisecond. What could she do? Put the money in her pocket then get the bag? That was too suspicious. If she used her right hand though, the lady could see something. What to do? She shot her right hand out, snatched the bag and pulled it back to her side. When the lady gave her another funny look, Oakley spun around and left the shop. Though outside waiting for her wasn't any sort of relief.

Two police officers stood outside, leaning on their car, sipping on their steaming coffees. Oakley stopped. Her heart stopped. Her brain stopped. Shoot, crap, dammit, hell, fack, crap! A sharp pain shot up her arm and she felt her forearm string. The armor was moving. Then the police looked at her. For a second. Oakely stared back, her eyes widened. One of them waved at her. Oakley tried to say something but only a small "aahh" came out. The other officer frowned.

"Are you quite alright there?"

"I am f-fantastic! Th-thank you!" Oakley spun around and quickly walked off home. Were they following her? Those police officers weren't usually here! There weren't any around this side of town. Where they looking for her? Oakley let out a yelp and broke into a run as the pain on her arm grew worse. Then, she felt it expand. Oh, oh no! Not now, please god. Not out here! She skittered around the corner, the door to the hostel was right there. She grabbed the door with her right arm, almost ripping the doorknob off and swung it open. She raced past a few puzzled backpackers and students, ran into her room and slammed the door behind her. Then she collapsed to her floor.

Not out of exhaustion, only because the ground was the best place to be right now. She looked over at her arm and winced. It had travelled to her elbow, ripped her coat up and had doubled in size. And it hurt. A lot.

Well, so much for her day off. At least she had her cake.