Mutant NES: The Rising
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- Start date
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
I'm scared.
DarthNader
Destroyer of Worlds
Way to be guys. Way to be.
Freemanuncg
Warlord
This poor creature he seems to carry the weight of the world and the suffering of every generation in which he has lived.
Ive glimpsed him before, another wanderer but this one is much more of a watcher.
He sees only another pedestrian barely noticing his rant but I am moved by his words.
I dont reveal my true form to him even with all that he has seen I fear I will frighten the old wretch out of his immortal skin. He is calling for mutants to join him, maybe I should I know I will need the help of others like us.
I saw him once in Gaul before the fall of Rome and again in England after the glorious revolution. Its good to see that he is doing well.
Hahaha as I thinks about the mutant a laugh burst from my lips.
What the H3ll are you laughing at buddy? the burly man says in a southern drawl, it takes me a moment to realize he is talking to me.
Oh nothing to do with you, I saw a mutant back yonder making all sorts of ruckus the stubble chin and rebel flag on the jacket the man now sees make him more at ease.
Its unnatural he says The work of Satan this brings another laugh to my lips but by now the man is far too wrapped up in the illusion to notice.
Lucifer, Mephistopheles, Beelzebub, the Morning Star. I do miss the old names they were so much more poetic, I think they inspired more fear.
The fool tells me everything I want to know, he and other hate filled humans who think like him have moved north and set up territory in New York City. They hate our kind they think we are abominations, the spawn of Satan, harbingers of the apocalypse, and worse.
The Christian Identity, racist bigots. This man smells bad and he is starting to tire me. Is there a place where we can gather and talk about Christian brotherhood?
Of course he answers our hideout is a few blocks away. He leads me to the place, a shady alley entrance. One guard. So predictable.
The helpful fool first, his blood drained and limbs limp in less than a second. The guard a large man with a scar above one eye saw only his friend, my most recent victim, approaching and greeting him. Whats goin on Buck? his head whips around suddenly what was that? a flash in the corner of his eye Did you see that Buck?
Yer getting jumpy Jim, dont worry about it it wont be long now.
He takes a step towards the darkness Im serious man I saw something another step. gimmie a hand looking he says, one more step. The space in front of him changes, moves, forms up into a shape. A giant ten feet tall, or a thousand; it seemed to be made from liquid darkness terror incarnate. His eyes widen with fear wh- what ddo you want? he manages to stammer.
You have sinned Jim the voice seems to be in his head, reverberating through his mind. You and the people you are with have sinned and now you must be punished the vision has the man trapped clenched in the force of a demon that did not exist. I grab Jim from behind in my lust for blood I feel his ribs shatter under my arms; I drain the blood from the body and begin the grisly task of stuffing Jim and Buck into another dumpster, such convenient containers for my victims.
My third victim of the night, the power increases with each kill, but so does the desire to kill and the lust for blood. I open the door Jim was guarding, no one inside notices. There are ten men and three women in the room, all members of the Christian Identity.
I am hungry
Ive glimpsed him before, another wanderer but this one is much more of a watcher.
He sees only another pedestrian barely noticing his rant but I am moved by his words.
I dont reveal my true form to him even with all that he has seen I fear I will frighten the old wretch out of his immortal skin. He is calling for mutants to join him, maybe I should I know I will need the help of others like us.
I saw him once in Gaul before the fall of Rome and again in England after the glorious revolution. Its good to see that he is doing well.
Hahaha as I thinks about the mutant a laugh burst from my lips.
What the H3ll are you laughing at buddy? the burly man says in a southern drawl, it takes me a moment to realize he is talking to me.
Oh nothing to do with you, I saw a mutant back yonder making all sorts of ruckus the stubble chin and rebel flag on the jacket the man now sees make him more at ease.
Its unnatural he says The work of Satan this brings another laugh to my lips but by now the man is far too wrapped up in the illusion to notice.
Lucifer, Mephistopheles, Beelzebub, the Morning Star. I do miss the old names they were so much more poetic, I think they inspired more fear.
The fool tells me everything I want to know, he and other hate filled humans who think like him have moved north and set up territory in New York City. They hate our kind they think we are abominations, the spawn of Satan, harbingers of the apocalypse, and worse.
The Christian Identity, racist bigots. This man smells bad and he is starting to tire me. Is there a place where we can gather and talk about Christian brotherhood?
Of course he answers our hideout is a few blocks away. He leads me to the place, a shady alley entrance. One guard. So predictable.
The helpful fool first, his blood drained and limbs limp in less than a second. The guard a large man with a scar above one eye saw only his friend, my most recent victim, approaching and greeting him. Whats goin on Buck? his head whips around suddenly what was that? a flash in the corner of his eye Did you see that Buck?
Yer getting jumpy Jim, dont worry about it it wont be long now.
He takes a step towards the darkness Im serious man I saw something another step. gimmie a hand looking he says, one more step. The space in front of him changes, moves, forms up into a shape. A giant ten feet tall, or a thousand; it seemed to be made from liquid darkness terror incarnate. His eyes widen with fear wh- what ddo you want? he manages to stammer.
You have sinned Jim the voice seems to be in his head, reverberating through his mind. You and the people you are with have sinned and now you must be punished the vision has the man trapped clenched in the force of a demon that did not exist. I grab Jim from behind in my lust for blood I feel his ribs shatter under my arms; I drain the blood from the body and begin the grisly task of stuffing Jim and Buck into another dumpster, such convenient containers for my victims.
My third victim of the night, the power increases with each kill, but so does the desire to kill and the lust for blood. I open the door Jim was guarding, no one inside notices. There are ten men and three women in the room, all members of the Christian Identity.
I am hungry
erez87
Lord of Random
- Joined
- May 16, 2002
- Messages
- 13,500
I continues day and night to speech in the street. I do not need sleep so I can continue doing this for at least long enough to gather some support. Someone with power to protect other who will join, I can only live, I cannot protect others.
I am sure I also saw someone I saw before. A long time before. Is that even possible? In far ancient days, when I still did no move far from what I believe is my home, some already gone village in the middle east, maybe even where this whole agricultural revolution started and brought humanity to where it is now, it would explain me, more people would equal more chance for mutants. Anyway in those days I know I heard of strange legends of people who died and nothing of their soul remained among the ancient Egyptians. I've never been to Egypt in the ancient days, strange, I missed the pyramids, so long I have lived and even I missed the construction of those monuments.
What was I thinking about? Oh, he's gone.
*continues calling the people around*
I am sure I also saw someone I saw before. A long time before. Is that even possible? In far ancient days, when I still did no move far from what I believe is my home, some already gone village in the middle east, maybe even where this whole agricultural revolution started and brought humanity to where it is now, it would explain me, more people would equal more chance for mutants. Anyway in those days I know I heard of strange legends of people who died and nothing of their soul remained among the ancient Egyptians. I've never been to Egypt in the ancient days, strange, I missed the pyramids, so long I have lived and even I missed the construction of those monuments.
What was I thinking about? Oh, he's gone.
*continues calling the people around*
Luckymoose
The World is Mine
Name: Klau
Eisen A.K.A Zermalmen A.K.A The Hammer
Age: 95
Occupation: Anti-Armor Specialist
Location: Norway/New York City
Physical Description: 6'5, bodybuilder muscle mass, extremely toned and fit, but with the face of a wrinkled old man. Buzzed gray hair, clean shaved face, and blue eyes. Age has it's effects on Klauss just like everyone else.
Mutant Powers/Abilities: Superhuman strength, agility and endurance, with nearly invulnerable skin that protects him from the majority of harm that comes his way.
Other Skills: Talented Violinist
Possessions: Old Nazi uniform, gold cigarette case and a classy violin
Injuries: None
Affiliation: Nazis
Followers: 0 (Anyone who has decided you're worth following if you decide to be a leader)
Background:
Born in Bavaria as Klauss Eisen in 1916 he became an avid supporter of the new National Socialist party in the late 20s and early 30s, joining the military in the mid 30s and staying active as an infantryman for years. Showing valor on the battlefield in 39 and 40, he was recruited into the ubermensch program by his superiors and underwent forced mutations to become what he is today. Super strength and invulnerability are understatements to his power. During his recovery from the programs initial steps in early 41 he personally rejoined the front lines in Russia, fighting with his soldiers to Stalingrad, where he would later be turned back by the sheer resilience of the marxist scum.
On the retreat from the Russian front he was sent to various prison camps to execute the inmates, to save ammunition for the Soviet threat. It is rumored he brutally murdered over four thousand individuals this way, with his bare hands.
He fled Germany in 1945, along with other well known war criminals and made his way around Africa in the immediate postwar years. In 1947 he returned to Europe, but not to Germany, as he found himself deep within Soviet territory disrupting the systems of their growth and stability. It is rumored he personally strangled Stalin, but this is debatable. He spent the late 40's, 50's, through the 80's sabotaging factories, assassinating leading Soviet officials and causing as much mayhem as one superhuman could in such an environment. After the collapse of the USSR, which he credits solely to himself, he moved to Norway and spent months abroad searching for survivors of the ubermensch program.
Later to find the one know as Bloodwolf, and beckon him towards New York City.
Young Klauss
Age: 95
Occupation: Anti-Armor Specialist
Location: Norway/New York City
Physical Description: 6'5, bodybuilder muscle mass, extremely toned and fit, but with the face of a wrinkled old man. Buzzed gray hair, clean shaved face, and blue eyes. Age has it's effects on Klauss just like everyone else.
Mutant Powers/Abilities: Superhuman strength, agility and endurance, with nearly invulnerable skin that protects him from the majority of harm that comes his way.
Other Skills: Talented Violinist
Possessions: Old Nazi uniform, gold cigarette case and a classy violin
Injuries: None
Affiliation: Nazis
Followers: 0 (Anyone who has decided you're worth following if you decide to be a leader)
Background:
Born in Bavaria as Klauss Eisen in 1916 he became an avid supporter of the new National Socialist party in the late 20s and early 30s, joining the military in the mid 30s and staying active as an infantryman for years. Showing valor on the battlefield in 39 and 40, he was recruited into the ubermensch program by his superiors and underwent forced mutations to become what he is today. Super strength and invulnerability are understatements to his power. During his recovery from the programs initial steps in early 41 he personally rejoined the front lines in Russia, fighting with his soldiers to Stalingrad, where he would later be turned back by the sheer resilience of the marxist scum.
On the retreat from the Russian front he was sent to various prison camps to execute the inmates, to save ammunition for the Soviet threat. It is rumored he brutally murdered over four thousand individuals this way, with his bare hands.
He fled Germany in 1945, along with other well known war criminals and made his way around Africa in the immediate postwar years. In 1947 he returned to Europe, but not to Germany, as he found himself deep within Soviet territory disrupting the systems of their growth and stability. It is rumored he personally strangled Stalin, but this is debatable. He spent the late 40's, 50's, through the 80's sabotaging factories, assassinating leading Soviet officials and causing as much mayhem as one superhuman could in such an environment. After the collapse of the USSR, which he credits solely to himself, he moved to Norway and spent months abroad searching for survivors of the ubermensch program.
Later to find the one know as Bloodwolf, and beckon him towards New York City.
Young Klauss
Freemanuncg
Warlord
Edit: read luckymoose's post first
After seeing Klauss in New York he knew that he had to flee the city or face his past now, Nazi mutants creatures riding in the wake of his influence, billions had shared the wake with them through time but in certain times and certain places…. The degradation of the Nazi’s from order to chaos was complete, my goals and plans for the human race utterly perverted, a haven for the violent and vulnerable. The illusion had taken hold in their minds and they had for lake of a better term become ‘Set in their ways’ their incredible strength and longevity however had allowed them to do unspeakable atrocities whether they knew it or not, in my name.
These mutants were children of generations, not millennia like the old man.
Eventually they would have to be reigned in or destroyed, but no man withstood the illusion especially not one who was already so desperate for something to believe in.
Not now.
After seeing Klauss in New York he knew that he had to flee the city or face his past now, Nazi mutants creatures riding in the wake of his influence, billions had shared the wake with them through time but in certain times and certain places…. The degradation of the Nazi’s from order to chaos was complete, my goals and plans for the human race utterly perverted, a haven for the violent and vulnerable. The illusion had taken hold in their minds and they had for lake of a better term become ‘Set in their ways’ their incredible strength and longevity however had allowed them to do unspeakable atrocities whether they knew it or not, in my name.
These mutants were children of generations, not millennia like the old man.
Eventually they would have to be reigned in or destroyed, but no man withstood the illusion especially not one who was already so desperate for something to believe in.
Not now.
Luckymoose
The World is Mine
Meanwhile at the Houston International Airport...
“I always hated flying, never trust a plane any farther than you can throw I always said.” Klauss ranted while standing in line to check in the luggage at the airport. Finally his time came to approach the clerk behind the counter. A sweet young black woman.
“Any luggage the check in today...?” she asked politely as she read his ticket “Mr. Bankberg?”
“Yes, I am Jewish American banker here for weekend vacation. Time to return to home in New York.” he said with a forced smile.
“Okay, well let me see the bags sir.” she took his luggage, which was old school black leather luggage with swastika zippers. “Well sir these can be carry on, no need to check them in.”
“Thank you fine negro lady, this will save me much money as I am Jewish American banker.” he smiled as he walked around, leaving Bloodwolf who grudgingly approached the counter.
“And you sir, Mr...” she read his ticket while looking at the uneasy man “Mr. Chang...from China.”
“It's Chong! I'm Chinese.” he snapped back, temper flaring. “I'm important.”
“Sorry...sir, of course you're Chinese and I'm sure you're very important. You have no luggage?”
“I don't carry luggage.”
“Then please step aside and allow others in line to check in their luggage sir. Thank you.”
He growled as he walked away, noticing Klauss introducing himself to random people as Larry Bankberg, Jewish American Banker. Smiling and frightening off small children with his forced accent, giant body and wrinkly old face.
They made their way to the metal detectors, seeing a long line they thought it would be a long wait, however one of the guards ushered them to a side scanner. Klauss walked through, with beeps, but no one seemed to notice or care, followed by his bag through the scanner showing grenades and other assorted explosives in his bag, again unnoticed. He smiled and introduced himself to everyone he could. Bloodwolf was being patted down, and the TSA agents pulled many knives out of his clothing placing them to the side, only to give him the all clear and let him through with them. An Arabic man tried to pass through the metal detectors after them but was stopped for a full cavity search. Klauss smiled and turned to the nearest guard.
“He looks like trouble, you can never trust a dirty Muslim, he is probably enemy of state. Taliban, suicide bomber. Haha. I am very glad you notice the true criminals.”
“We're just doing our job sir, no need to thank us.” he said to Klauss, only to turn and yell at a small black child “Hey you! You look suspicious!”
They boarded their plane and made their way to New York City, Klauss let everyone on the plane know he was a Jewish American Banker.
“I always hated flying, never trust a plane any farther than you can throw I always said.” Klauss ranted while standing in line to check in the luggage at the airport. Finally his time came to approach the clerk behind the counter. A sweet young black woman.
“Any luggage the check in today...?” she asked politely as she read his ticket “Mr. Bankberg?”
“Yes, I am Jewish American banker here for weekend vacation. Time to return to home in New York.” he said with a forced smile.
“Okay, well let me see the bags sir.” she took his luggage, which was old school black leather luggage with swastika zippers. “Well sir these can be carry on, no need to check them in.”
“Thank you fine negro lady, this will save me much money as I am Jewish American banker.” he smiled as he walked around, leaving Bloodwolf who grudgingly approached the counter.
“And you sir, Mr...” she read his ticket while looking at the uneasy man “Mr. Chang...from China.”
“It's Chong! I'm Chinese.” he snapped back, temper flaring. “I'm important.”
“Sorry...sir, of course you're Chinese and I'm sure you're very important. You have no luggage?”
“I don't carry luggage.”
“Then please step aside and allow others in line to check in their luggage sir. Thank you.”
He growled as he walked away, noticing Klauss introducing himself to random people as Larry Bankberg, Jewish American Banker. Smiling and frightening off small children with his forced accent, giant body and wrinkly old face.
They made their way to the metal detectors, seeing a long line they thought it would be a long wait, however one of the guards ushered them to a side scanner. Klauss walked through, with beeps, but no one seemed to notice or care, followed by his bag through the scanner showing grenades and other assorted explosives in his bag, again unnoticed. He smiled and introduced himself to everyone he could. Bloodwolf was being patted down, and the TSA agents pulled many knives out of his clothing placing them to the side, only to give him the all clear and let him through with them. An Arabic man tried to pass through the metal detectors after them but was stopped for a full cavity search. Klauss smiled and turned to the nearest guard.
“He looks like trouble, you can never trust a dirty Muslim, he is probably enemy of state. Taliban, suicide bomber. Haha. I am very glad you notice the true criminals.”
“We're just doing our job sir, no need to thank us.” he said to Klauss, only to turn and yell at a small black child “Hey you! You look suspicious!”
They boarded their plane and made their way to New York City, Klauss let everyone on the plane know he was a Jewish American Banker.
Megaman_zx
Dark Lord of the Sith
please don't be Sentinels please don't be Sentinels please don't be Sentinels
http://marvel.wikia.com/Sentinal
btw lolz all around for luckymoose
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
So do you want us to make 7 6 more spontaneuous posts?...
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2008
- Messages
- 14,928
SKILORD
Insurgent
I didn't do it this time
Mark idly plotted out his course in the small map he'd stolen from a convenience store in Williston, North Dakota. He hadn't previously known much of American geography, other than that there was Alaska up by the Yukon, Texas in the South, and a bunch of big cities like New York and Seattle on the coast. However, though he'd never been very interested in studying, he was very capable of self-teaching, especially in situations where it mattered. When it came to navigating the interstate system in the backs of semi-trucks like some latter-day hobo, geography mattered.
He'd started in Okotoks, Alberta, driven to Lethbridge, totalled his dad's stolen car into the front end of a semi and survived... somehow... woken up with nothing but himself in the back of that same truck, and reached the border as a stowaway.
The border guards had been much more nervous than usual, and that was strange. Normally they didn't even search at all. They hadn't been very thorough, fortunately, so they hadn't found him, or any signs of his extended habitation in that trailer.
He stayed in that first car through Montana and North Dakota, but by Williston, Mark jumped ship and cleared out the signs of his presence, leaving with nothing at all (his clothes having disappeared when he relocated from the crashing car into the truck's trailer). A quick visit to the Salvation Army provided him with clothes. Mark had pointedly avoided human contact, sneaking in and leaving in short order, leaving behind only a short letter:
Needed clothes. Had none. Took clothes. Thank you. God bless.
His heart hadn't been in it, but he didn't feel quite right stealing from a charity without at least some sort of justification.
From there, Mark boarded a new semi, once again encountering a recurring difficulty in his nascent abilities. Previously, he had found that he could 'harden' parts of his body, making them strong enough to punch through walls without pain. However, his crash had shown that he could also... well, he wasn't entirely sure. It was either teleportation, or the ability to move through solid objects. Whatever it was, he could only bring himself. If he tried to push his way through a wall, he could make his flesh start to sink through, but it would push through his mittens, leaving them outside even as his hand entered the interior.
He's experimented with this further as he stowed away through into Minnesota. By 'softening' his fingers while held underwater, the level of the water fell, even though his hand seemed to still take up the same space. However, if he 'hardened' his fingers while underwater, nothing would change. He wished he knew why.
Another thing he'd noticed, after disembarking in Minneapolis, was that if he made one bit of his body really strong, another part would have to go immaterial. That made a bit more sense, maybe. Mark figured that he couldn't make his whole body super-solid all at once, he had to balance both 'sides' out.
Mark wished he was old enough to have done physics classes.
With a comforting grumble, he felt the truck start up. He looked around, making sure everything was in place. He was carefully hidden in a refrigerator box, which held a sleeping bag, some snack bars and a back pack ('found' near an elementary school at recess), several boxes of crackers (stolen) and some water bottles (bought with a five dollar bill found near Bismarck).
Where to next?
No idea at all.
He'd started in Okotoks, Alberta, driven to Lethbridge, totalled his dad's stolen car into the front end of a semi and survived... somehow... woken up with nothing but himself in the back of that same truck, and reached the border as a stowaway.
The border guards had been much more nervous than usual, and that was strange. Normally they didn't even search at all. They hadn't been very thorough, fortunately, so they hadn't found him, or any signs of his extended habitation in that trailer.
He stayed in that first car through Montana and North Dakota, but by Williston, Mark jumped ship and cleared out the signs of his presence, leaving with nothing at all (his clothes having disappeared when he relocated from the crashing car into the truck's trailer). A quick visit to the Salvation Army provided him with clothes. Mark had pointedly avoided human contact, sneaking in and leaving in short order, leaving behind only a short letter:
Needed clothes. Had none. Took clothes. Thank you. God bless.
His heart hadn't been in it, but he didn't feel quite right stealing from a charity without at least some sort of justification.
From there, Mark boarded a new semi, once again encountering a recurring difficulty in his nascent abilities. Previously, he had found that he could 'harden' parts of his body, making them strong enough to punch through walls without pain. However, his crash had shown that he could also... well, he wasn't entirely sure. It was either teleportation, or the ability to move through solid objects. Whatever it was, he could only bring himself. If he tried to push his way through a wall, he could make his flesh start to sink through, but it would push through his mittens, leaving them outside even as his hand entered the interior.
He's experimented with this further as he stowed away through into Minnesota. By 'softening' his fingers while held underwater, the level of the water fell, even though his hand seemed to still take up the same space. However, if he 'hardened' his fingers while underwater, nothing would change. He wished he knew why.
Another thing he'd noticed, after disembarking in Minneapolis, was that if he made one bit of his body really strong, another part would have to go immaterial. That made a bit more sense, maybe. Mark figured that he couldn't make his whole body super-solid all at once, he had to balance both 'sides' out.
Mark wished he was old enough to have done physics classes.
With a comforting grumble, he felt the truck start up. He looked around, making sure everything was in place. He was carefully hidden in a refrigerator box, which held a sleeping bag, some snack bars and a back pack ('found' near an elementary school at recess), several boxes of crackers (stolen) and some water bottles (bought with a five dollar bill found near Bismarck).
Where to next?
No idea at all.
Freemanuncg
Warlord
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