Inhuman NES

[merciary]

Sorry RL has been somewhat of an issue lately. Here you go, let me know what changes you'd like:

Keeper Personnel File:

Name: Roger Stockwell

Date of Birth: [REDACTED]

Place of Birth: [REDACTED]

Current Position: Field Agent, assigned to Task Force Delta-2 (aka Mental Wall) Pending Training results

Description: Agent Stockwell is a Caucasian male in his late 20’s with brown hair and brown eyes. No distinct physical traits however Agent Stockwell possesses a natural resistance to mind altering Anomalies. Research into this trait is ongoing.*
Recruitment: Agent Stockwell was recruited from through the FBI after an incident with Anomaly [REDACTED]. Agent Stockwell was able to resist the anomaly’s effects well the rest of his team was incapacitated long enough to neutralize the Anomaly. While the loss of the Anomaly was regrettable it was determined that Agent Stockwell could prove to be an asset to the Keeper and given the choice of amnesiacs or employment. He accepted our offer. During the standard Recruit assessment the abilities of Agent Stockwell described in the initial report were confirmed as he was able to resist mental suggestions from Anomaly 285 for [REDACTED] seconds longer than average. Assigned to Task Force Delta-2 after additional training.

Training:
Advance Weapons
Improved Mental Resistance Training
Illusion Recognition Course
Anomaly Containment Procedures (Results Pending)

*Addendum-1: There are several theories about Agent Stockwell’s ability. The most accepted one is that it is due a simple natural resistance such as one might have to a disease. Other theories due exist however none can be proven at this time and the chances of duplicating it are slim. All research into it will have a low priority.

Addendum-2: Agent displays a concern for the general public and a desire to protect them from Anomalies. While so far he agrees with the Keepers mission he should be watched by his fellow agents to insure that he does not place assisting the effected populace over the containment of the Anomaly.

 

[Seon]

Without further ado, I will begin the prologue now.

Luckymoose and any others are welcome to join whenever they want after this. It's a story NES, so people can come and go as they please.

 

[Seon]

Prologue: A Brief Life​

"Why must you always insist on such frustrating methods?"

"Hmm?"

"You have the power, you idiot. You have the power to change things. So why don't you? It would save a lot of effort.

"I don't believe in an easy way out."

"What?"

"I can't change human nature. Only humans can change human nature."

"Can you stop being cryptic?"

"I am suggesting that... more subtle methods are much more useful than brute force."

"Sure doesn't seem that way."

"But don't you see the beauty in it? All it takes to flip the world upside down is a tiny little flick."

"Mission Control, this is Black 1 reporting in from outside the zone of effect."

"We read you loud and clear. This is Black 9 from Mobile Command. I will be overseeing you and your team's mission.

Due to the... importance... of this mission, Director Thomas will also be observing."

"Gentlemen, this is Director Thomas speaking. While it is not...customary... for a Director to observe a mission directly, I believe that this particular circumstance deserves special attention. I cannot stress the importance of this mission enough, the lives of everyone in the city lies on your hand."

"Black 9 here. You have been provided with everything necessary to accomplish the mission, from flame-projectors to psionic and visual distorters proven to shield you from the anomaly. In addition, there is an implanted bomb within your suit. If one of you starts to turn, we WILL detonate the bomb, so get the away from him. Your mission directive is to liquidate the anomaly with extreme prejudice.

The decoy teams are in place. You may proceed to the target."

"Mark."

....................................................................................................................

"One hotdog please,"

The lady behind the counter blew a bubblegum at the new customer. She was wearing a black tanktop and a jean. That was okay, she was just showing off her pale skin. But a sunglass indoors at night on top of that?

"It's night, dear, take off that damn sunglasses."

"Oh no, I can't do that," the customer said.

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

"Alright, dear," the woman said. "One hotdog coming right up.."

"Have you heard this urban legend, Erlang? See, there were two idiots ganging up on this lady wearing sunglasses at night. Just teasing her on her dressing style, you know. Thought she was just some stupid goth.

Then they take off her sunglasses and boom! They realize that her eyes actually glow in the dark! They are amazed, of course, so they try and see it again. She's covering her eyes, so they remove it from her face.

And then their own eyes suddenly start to melt, their hair catches on fire, and their clothes burn and stick to their skin. She starts screaming, they start screaming, and the two idiots burn until there's nothing left of them but ash.

Do you really think that was an urban legend, Erlang?

You remember our training from the Keepers? How to recognize anomalies in such tales?

Let's go and find her."

.....................................................................................................................

In an abandoned theatre, condemned for destruction long time ago, a small crowd of teenagers gathered around Eleanor.

"Oh my god, I can totally hear you inside my head," Tim said. Eleanor beamed back at him. Tim chuckled.

"How did you do it?" Laura asked. Eleanor shook her head. "Oh, you don't know?..."

"You should totally go to the local newspaper agency or something. You are going to be so famous..." Fred said

"I don't like fame," Eleanor replied.

"Still! Okay, yeah yeah, I'll keep it a secret."

To Task Force Delta-2

From Director Paul

Capture anomaly-813, aka Eleanor. Hypodermic needles containing amnesiacs are provided to eliminate witnesses. Cover story will be prepared and released as soon as mission is done.

Anomaly-813 is a telepathic Caucasian female of 16 years of age. She seems incapable of controlling anyone through her powers and it seems to be limited to that of transmitting thought as of this moment. However, to prevent any disclosure of the existence of the paranormal to the public, and thus increase scrutiny of every other pranormal incidents around the world, this mission is a high priority.

Capture her.

"So that's your move?" Jack said, adjusting his trenchcoat. His guest sitting across the table nodded.

"I still don't think it's going to succeed, you know that?"

"Maybe. You are still helping me though?"

"I have never been the shining example of sanity," Jack replied. "Besides, a man gotta have some fun in the world..."

"What's your opinion of the Third Eyes?" the man interjected. Jack stared at the man with a bemused yet shocked expression.

"Oh, so you know I know about them?"

"You seem to know surprisingly lot."

"Well," Jack said, cackling. "I think they are bunch of loonie idiots who don't know what the hell they are messing with."

"Maybe."

"Really. All the keepers and the protectors have to do is lift a finger and swipe. What, do you really think they have a chance? They are so inferior to that of the two organizations. They think they can use intelligence to break out? The two organizations have more manpower, more intelligence officers, and more weapons. God favors those with the biggest firepower, and those idiots barely have enough money to buy a peashooter."

"Yes, they will die," the man said. "But by then their purpose would have been served."

"Oh, you have a plan?"

"Yes."

"Whatever, I'm going out on a date with this hot chick I found in one of those godforsaken haunted town."

"You didn't even talk to her yet, did you?"

"... you, what are you doing here? I kicked you out a long time ago, ex-roommate," Jack said. He walked through his apartment door. He did not emerge outside. Instead, he walked out of a bathroom of a restaurant several hundreds of miles away.

The man helped himself to a plate of pizza that he found in Jack's fridge.

..............................................................................................................


Keeper Internal Memo
From Field Agent [REDACTED]

How do we contain something that kills everything that comes near it?

Keeper Internal Memo
To Field Agent [REDACTED]

We don't.

We feed it to a black hole.

Keeper Internal Memo
From Field Agent [REDACTED]

Oh.
......................................................................................................................


To Task force Beta-Omicron-5
From Director Lin

Anomalous effect detected in the town of [REDACTED]. 68% of all persons who left the area around the town have descended into a state of madness. These persons can easily be identified by their lack of shadows, or sometimes darker shadows. These persons have not been deemed curable by any means.

Euthanasia is authorized for any persons of this nature being found inside the town. Electronic signal jammers are provided to intercept any signal leaving the city. Helicopters and military vehicles have been requisitioned from Site-43.

You will find the source of this anomaly and destroy it with extreme prejudice. Amnesiacs are available to eliminate witnesses. As evacuation of the town is deemed impossible, terminate any individuals proven to be resistant to amnesiacs.

 

[Seon]

Spoiler The Dream of the Phantom, :

Spoiler The Lurker in the Darkness :

Spoiler The Watcher in the Shadows :

Spoiler The Voice where there should be none :

Spoiler Eater of Children :

Spoiler and scones :

.....and then the sun went out

.

OOC Note: Yeah, I have no idea. So make up your own story starting with that dream

.........................................................................................................................................................................................................

So I heard that you want more power?

Who am I? Well, I am nobody in particular... but I can sympathize with that plight of yours.

Everyone wants more power. Who doesn't want more power?

I can offer you a deal.

I can give you something... that will make you utterly invincible in combat! No men nor women will ever dare harm you!

In exchance, I just want you to do one little favor.

Eh? Isn't this a good deal

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////



@ Nuke and Iggy and everyone in fact.


I didn't write much involving your characters because I don't still know how they will act to various circumstances and I don't want to limit your options.

Despite whatever appears in the update, you can do whatever it is you want.

 

[Seon]

Feel free to ask me for more information whenever you want.

 

[Zazaq]

First and foremost if I'm not doing this the way you want let me know, I was under they impression we were supposed to make up much of our own story.

I grab my helmet preparing to don it, just before I do I look up to my men and give a confident grin; even under their helmets I could feel them smiling back. It was odd with how looked down upon most Irishmen are among all the Brits that I ended up a field commander, a respected one no less. To distract them from the fact we were entering the zone of influence I began speaking.
"Alright boys you know the drill, as soon as this vehicle stops we are out and underground in a second. We have a straight path to what we believe to be the lair of the freak. Operatives one and two will stay by the man whole to make sure we aren't flanked by surface infected. The rest of us will move forward in spear formation, I'll be at the head unless there are objections?" I looked around with a cocky grin, one of them let out a chuckle but other then that they were silent. "We are going to be about 75 yards from the door, from a previous radar sweep we are expecting 20+ armed guards. We push through them and to the door which will be blown open with a demolition charge, after that we just gotta light the bastard up."
As the truck began skidding to a halt I ended with one more statement. "Remember, these people are already dead, were just burning some bodies." And out we plunged into the dark abyss.

 

[The_Tyrant]

The swamp grass swayed in the early morning. The sun felt warm, but most of all, forgiving. The exposed face drew no horror from the creatures of the Louisiana swamp. Yet the real warmth was felt internally. The man felt full, complete, human.

Suddenly, the sun transformed into a blood red explosion of light. The Atchafalaya river faded as gunfire erupted from the bald cyprus trees. As he felt the bullet wound on his chest, the red gloom dissapeared as the Phantom woke up.

The catacombs of the New Orleans Opera house were silent as the Phantom relived what had just occured. It was not the first time he dreamt of escape, of living on the surface with no mask to hide the horrendus disfigurment of his face. Enfuriated at his containment, the Phantom threw the pearl white ballroom mask across the rocky floor into the shallow creek of the catacomb.

His anger was relieved by the sound of the opera house, as morning rehersal began. The voices of innocence warmed the Phantom's stone exterior, as he begun preparations to seduce another human with his voice, as he has done previously.

Little did the Phantom know, the managers of the Opera House were running low on patience, and did not desire the mysterious phantom to dwell underneath the Opera. He drew crowds, which meant more profit for Mr. Lefont, the owner of the New Orleans Opera House, but the Phantom also drew blood and death. Four of his stars have commited suicide the last 28 months after being exposed to the voice of the Phantom. Words cannot describe the effect the voice has on a human when alone with the Phantom. Aware that his actions would likely bring chaos to New Orleans, Lefont prepared to contact The Protectors, to reclaim his Opera House, no matter the cost.

 

[Grandkhan]

In a small campsite in the Bayou, restless, uneasy sleep came to Alan Stevenson.

It was bright. Alan stood in a valley, full of lush, green plants and brilliant flowers. They waved gently in the warm, fresh air. Iridescent butterflies flew from plant to plant, adding another thousand colours to the landscape. The scent of a thousand flowers came to Alan's nose, wafted along in the breeze. Alan wasn't a sentimental person, but he was struck by their beauty. He bent down to pick one up...

and then the Sun went out.

It was pitch black, but Alan could still see perfectly. He was at the Drepang Tuong monastery again, surrounded by the bodies of the monks and students he had killed. He stepped forward, but stopped when something squished under his feet. Alan looked down, to see it was the body of another - former - student, who he had killed with a fatal blow to his chest, crushing his sternum inwards. The floor was sticky with blood. Alan, driven by some force that he was unable to stop, began striding forwards inside the temple. He stepped into the hall, still pitch black, but once again for some reason he could still see everything perfectly. A body lay in the middle of the hall, and once again Alan was unable to do anything but walk towards it. The body rose up, to reveal that it was the body of his former master, with its face caved in where Alan had laid the finishing blow. It grabbed Alan by the throat, and slammed him in the chest with its palm. Alan felt his chest explode, and then... nothing. Pure, icy blackness, like having your eyes shut in a dark room. Only one thing existed. A voice, speaking out of the darkness, saying only a few words.

Let's make a deal...

Alan catapulted up, shivering. He shook his head to clear his mind, and grabbed the map he had in the bag lying next to the patch of dirt he was sleeping on. He looked at, tracing his route with his finger.
"Thats far," he said to himself, quietly. "Too far. I'll have to steal a car or something tomorrow." Shrugging, he rolled over and went back to his restless, troubled sleep.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Earl strode back to his car at the gas station, jingling the keys. He stopped as he saw a young man standing next to it, grinning widely.
"Thats a nice car," said the man.
"Sure is," Earl replied suspiciously, reaching for the gun tucked in his waistband. "Fixed it up myself. My pride 'n' joy."
"Mighty fine," the man said, still grinning. "bet it runs like a beauty too."
Earl said nothing.
"You know what? I think I'll take it." he said, after a short pause. Earl tried to whip out his pistol, but before he could bring it around he found the stranger's firm grip crushing his wrist and shoving the hand holding the pistol to the side. "Nice try," the stranger said, and slammed his palm into Earl's face. There was a sickening crunch, and Earl said no more. Alan bent over, grabbed the keys out of Earl's hand, and turned to the car.
"Next stop, New Orleans." he said, as he started the car and drove out of the gas station.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Police Report: 07/12/2001
... Victim was reportedly approached by unidentified Caucasian man, roughly 6' in height, wearing black t-shirt and tracksuit pants, and they exchanged some words. Then, victim was attacked by the man, who managed to kill him with a single blow to the face. Man then took the car keys off the victim and drove off, according to both witnesses.

At first glance, this appears to be a generic murder as a result of a carjacking at a gas station gone wrong. However, the murder procedure matches up to several other homicides throughout Florida, going from Miami northwards. It appears that it is the same murderer each time, though in every case the items stolen are different.

Fingerprinting has been unable to identify the assailant - he does not appear in our records anywhere. Some priority should be placed on finding the culprit as he travels north and stop him from killing again...

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Audio Logs from the Office of Director William

A: Sir, have you seen this?
Wi.: Police report on the gas station murder? I have.
A: Are we aware of who is responsible?
Wi.: Of course we are. Though I doubt you have security clearance to know.
A: I might now, sir. I've been promoted.
Wi.: Really now? Office politics as usual, I suppose.
A: Indeed sir.
Wi.: Well, apparently now you do. Very well. The perpetrator is a man who has been known to us for some time. He is a regular man in every way, except for the fact that he can punch through people and dodge bullets.
A: That doesn't sound very ordinary to me, sir.
Wi.: Last week you neutralised a man who can make any item he touches turn to phosphorous powder. That is abnormal. Stevenson - well, he has merely had extensive training in a now almost lost martial art. We could all do it, in fact, if we had the training.
A: Still... should we be trying to do apprehend him regardless? He seems... unbalanced. A possible liability.
Wi.: While the police think he is a regular killer, we have nothing to fear. He is no threat to the stability of the world. He seeks any anomalous artefact he can get his hands on, though it is unlikely he will find anything. If he becomes a threat or possibly useful to us, I will order a team. Till then, do not concern yourself with him.
A: Very well, sir. [Sound of footsteps and door closing.]
Wi.: A[REDACTED] got promoted, eh? *sigh* Office politics is everywhere, I suppose... Still, he might be right. Perhaps this Stevenson would be useful for Anomaly-613. Perhaps not. I will have to sleep on it...

 

[merciary]

OOC: I just changed the nickname of my task force, I didn't realize that name was already in use. I should have a story by tomorrow, also if anyone has a better nickname for and anti-mental task force please let me know I really can't think of anything.

 

[Mickzter97]

Mortem looked into the sky. The sun was super hot, and he felt the burn. He was in a ghost town. Buildings were abandoned, windows broken, it was dead quite. He walked across the road, into a small house. It was white, but the dust had given it a brownish tan. Mortem opened the door, and it creaked. The house looked like someone still lived in it. Pizza on the table, fresh glass of water...Mortem already knew this person was dead by now.

He went to a CD-player, it was old school, from the 90s. He looked at the play button. His scaley like fingers pushed the dusty button. A guitar and a marching band suddenly started to play. He looked at the CD, and it read - Wishbone Ash Live Dates, 1 - The King Will Come. He almost smiled. A brief memory came into his mind about this song, but it went away quickly. He walked around the house.

The man was suffering, his skin turning pale. Mortem looked at the man, he could see his ribs imploding. Mortem could feel his energy come into him. Mortem took a deep breath. It felt good. The man kept on suffering, and his head started to bubble. This man started to scream. Loudly. "Ahh, help me! Please! Stop it!"
But it was too late. His head exploded, and blood was spread across the room. Mortem held his hand by the blood. It started to float, and change shape. A leaf came out of the side. The leaf changed into a flower, and Lilly. He placed it where the mans head was meant to be.

Mortem left, looking for another town to destroy.

 

[laraqua]

Annie knelt down before her little cousin and helped him tie up his shoes, methodically and patiently showing him how to twist the laces. Billy used to know how to do it, back before his parents went out of town and didn't come back. Then came the bed wetting and forgetting how to do little things. She'd thought it was the town's influence but it didn't seem to be. Just simple regression to an earlier age.

"Stop sucking your thumb," she said with forced cheer, as she untied the laces and showed him how to tie it again. When he didn't obey her, she swatted at his hand until he took it out. "Now you try it."

He did his laces just fine this time. Well, that was generally the case. But in a few days time he'd forget again. Maybe he just did it for the attention. His grades were fine. Everything was fine. Except that tension around the eyes that everyone had. She shivered and turned away, picking up his backpack and giving it to him.

"Time for school, kiddo," she roughed up Billy's hair with a wan smile. At least it was daytime. There was nothing to fear when the sun was out, right?

"Wish I were home schooled," grumbled Billy.

"Wish I had a rich husband," she responded, just as she always did. "And if wishes were dollars, we'd all be billionaires."

Billy just gave her The Look. It was that look that all kids got when they thought the adults around them were either patronising or insane. It was kinda withering and she wondered how The Look would progress once he was a teenager. She wondered what hers had been like. It'd been so long since she was a kid. Well, about four years since she'd passed nineteen. Man, she felt old.

"Off you go, and if anyone asks, I dropped you off round the corner," said Annie. "Remember...."

"No one likes a social worker," Billy said, swinging the backpack over his shoulder.

"That's right." She brushed off the apron of her uniform, helped him off the bar stool and led him to the door. She had to come in early to help set things up so even though Annie's Bar didn't open until ten o'clock, she was always hear at eight. Besides, it was more familiar here and there were less bad memories. Less memories of loss as well. "Now remember to actually go to school. Truancy officers are the devil but they won't go away if you hiss and quote the Bible at them. They're only banished by school attendance."

Billy rolled his eyes. "Pretty sure you're wrong about that. Pretty sure I just got the prayer wrong."

"Yeah, well, he didn't seem to think so. Now run along or you'll be late."

Billy shrugged and broke into a run.

Annie turned back to the bar that her father had named after her when she'd been only a few years old. Annie's Bar. She headed over to the counter to mix herself up to drink. Yeah, she shouldn't drink the merchandise, especially this early in the morning, but what was life without a few taboos to break? Besides, it'd help her relax enough to take a nap in the office before opening time. She took a swig of whiskey and let herself into the office, checked the alarm, and settled in to sleep on the sofa couch pushed up against the wall.

 

[Seon]

Always <3 your writing.

 

[Lord_Iggy]

Could you put characters and their organizations up on the first page Seon? It's a bit tricky to keep track of everyone's allegiances right now. Also, is there a way to tell a Keeper Task Force from a Protector Task force by name alone?

For the record, Agent Earl Janciewicz is affiliated with the Keepers.

 

[Lord_Iggy]

July 9 2001 - 1512 Hrs - Facility 49

Earl sat down on the bench, relaxing in the dappled midday sun. The quiet bustle of passing footsteps, the starting and stopping of nearby automobiles, and the clamour of the nearby merchant stall.

Wrapped around his left palm was Gertie's leash. His fingers rested on the gently-textured wood of the bench. It felt so authentic. His right hand deftly floated over a series of memos, reading as it went.

From the left came a familiar set of approaching footsteps.

"Yves."

"It's pronounced 'Eevh'."

"I know."

Earl grinned and reached out with his right hand, closing it around a proffered ice cream cone.

"So, any news from on high?"

"Small town in [REDACTED] got cleared by a head exploder of some sort, no witnesses for hours until some family drives through in an RV. They're getting the Class-As now, probably for the best. Some fellah in on the Bayou gets his face knocked in by something on a murder spree along the gulf coast."

"Mm, read that one too. Sounds like an anomaly maybe?"

"It doesn't take much to kill a man with a swift knock to the grey matter. Probably a norm."

"Ahh, yeah, thought the same man, thought the same." Yves nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Still, could be killing by hand but have some other anomaly. Looks like he's going somewhere from the string o' murders, at any rate."

Yves continued nodding, slowly, making a vague grunt of agreement. Earl got started on his cone.

"Ugh. Strawberry. You know I hate that flavour."

"I know."

Yves took a turn to chuckle. Earl shrugged, and leaned back for a moment.

"Still, always hate seeing people with my name get killed."

"'sa pity."

Earl felt the bench shift as his partner sat down.

"So, what'd you find about Agent Shen?"

"Informant was false. Protector Counterintel trying to find out what we knew about the Third Eye."

"Damn shame. Any other leads there?"

"Hell Earl, they've got half of our damn branch hunting down those cayoux, ain't nothing I know that you don't."

"Easy there, not so loud in public."

Yves sat in dumbfounded silence for a moment. Earl imagined his mouth might have been hanging open, or a lone eyebrow raised.

"This game again, Ears? You know it's not real."

"Bah, the ice cream's real enough."

"Your break's almost done anyway."

Earl chuckled. "It's good enough for me Frenchie. Meet you at lunch, we'll see what's come up new in Shen's file."

Yves' footsteps faded away, only to be suddenly drowned out by a hiss of air. The bustling crowd noise disappeared, and a klaxon gave a lone wail as a speaker system started up.

"Alright Agent Janciewicz, your time in the outside room's up. See you tomorrow"

Earl stood up, noting that the wind had stopped, and that the floor was nothing but smooth concrete. His hand closed around Gertie's harness, and he stepped out of the room and into one of the subterranean facility's countless, nondescript hallways.

"See you tomorrow Phil."

 

[Grandkhan]

eheh, I forgot Iggy's character was named Earl. I just went with a really generic name for a dude from the deep South. Whoops.

 

[Lord_Iggy]

Hahah, no problem GrandKhan. I'm sure you'll be meeting a second Earl soon enough.

leave the anomalies alone and get on with your life

 

[Seon]

front page updated

 

[Zazaq]

Insane? That's a little to strong a word in my humble opinion.

 

[Zazaq]

I mean, sure he pops pills like there tick-tacks and kills feeling human beings without complete justification but who doesn't every once in a while?

 

[laraqua]

I'm more worried about Mortem who's looking for a new town to destroy.......

Ye gads!

Hmm, one of the troubles with all of the Inhumans is that they're mostly impossible to interact with without automatically dying. Mine, at least, won't kill you until you leave. With others, there's gibbets. Does this mean that we should all play in our corners until someone feels ready to come over to die?