Mutant NES: The Rising

Update 3
Jan 29th-Feb 12th

Chaos and Slaughter in Indianapolis; Mutants rampage through city; Jailbreak occurs

Mass murder and acts of arson has broken out in Indianapolis. The start of killings by the mutant serial killer known as “Father Time” began with the frat attack and then continued with the murder of police officers. This was followed by a jailbreak of mutants in Gary which left twenty police officers dead, and seven wounded and all the mutants in the cell escaped. It is believed that Father Time has met with the Hispanic man responsible for the Stock Market attack whose identity remains unknown. Their female traveling companion has been identified as 20 year old NYU student Alice Simmons. She is said to have no living family, investigators have been combing through her apartment for clues for the past several days. A seven foot tall man with prosthetic limbs has also been sighted with them though his identity remains unknown.

A spate of arson attacks began resulting in over a dozen different buildings being burned all across the city leaving over sixty dead and hundreds injured and homeless. One of the suspects was discovered to police officers in the Indianapolis Police Department itself Officer Michael Green was apprehended but committed suicide before he could be interrogated. It is suspected that he was working with others including Father Time who is believed to have left the city.

Emboldened by his actions copy- cat arsonists and killers began to emerge adding to the chaos and death toll though order has been largely restored since the deployment of the National Guard. Most of the mutant escapee’s have also been recaptured.

Mutant Riots in Florida Crushed; Rick Scott tremendously popular

Mutant riots that broke out in Florida’s major cities including Gainesville, Tallahassee, Tampa, and Miami in the wake of a Christian Identity shooting have been suppressed by force. Governor Rick Scott ordered his once controversial Kappa Team to move in and they quickly and effectively rounded up the most dangerous mutants while putting the rest to flight. The operation proved costly as the mutants resisted and fifty six police officers were killed or injured before the riots were put down. It was also condemned by the Mutant Defense League and the SPLC for its brutality. Nonetheless the ruthless action has earned Governor Rick Scott a massive popularity boost for his decisive action. “I shall not let Florida become another Indiana” he promised “Dangerous elements in our society will be brought to justice and made to account for their crimes.”

Mutants and Christian Identity and Human Defense Alliance engaged in clandestine war

It is the start of what many analysts are calling a covert war inside America. Christian Identity and Human Defense Alliance members who have been systematically targeting mutants are beginning to turn up dead themselves in mutant retaliation attacks. A number of killings of Christian Identity members have occurred throughout the country from New York, Indianapolis, Tallahassee, Gainesville, Baltimore, Boston, Richmond, and Atlanta.

Christian Identity and the Human Defense Alliance have seen their membership skyrocket in recent weeks and are now thought to possess over a million members in all fifty states. Gun sales have similarly skyrocketed and the two organizations are now thought to be cooperating. Mutants have been killed all throughout the Midwest particularly centered in Indiana where visible mutants have been subject to lynching’s but also in Iowa, Illinois, Chicago and parts of the Northeast in New York and South. The full death toll is uncertain but authorities are increasingly concerned over the prospect of a full blown race war. Visible mutants have almost disappeared from the streets as they fear being the target of attacks.

Gang Violence on the Rise in New York


A Tong leader, Chang Kwok along with over twenty other mafia members was gunned down in a hit by the Russian mafia in New York. The brutal slaying likely occurred due to a turf battle between the two rival groups and is expected to lead to war between the Tong and Russian mafia.

A number of brutal slayings have similarly occurred in the inner city as a full scale war has broken out between the streets gangs. The situation is confused and few details are available though authorities are warning residents to stay at home.

Mutant Registration Act passed by Senate; Signed by President Obama

In the wake of the chaos that has broken out throughout the country the Mutant Registration Act passed with strong bipartisan support and quickly went on to be signed into law by President Obama. The only one to oppose it was Senator Bernie Sanders who in a eight hour speech railed against the MRA said “This is the beginning of a dangerous time in America.” The Mutant Defense League and ACLU have already launched a legal challenge but it is not expected to succeed.

The federal government moved with uncharacteristic speed to implement the act and already the first Mutant Registration Center was set up in Washington D.C. The new mutant ID cards are similar to a driver’s license but contain information on a mutant’s power, as well as biometric data, social security number, and address. A mutant is required to carry this at all times when in public and can be stopped by police and asked for it. Failure to provide it will result in several days in jail and a hefty fine. The problem of registering non-visible mutants however has proved to hinder registration efforts. Parents are being encouraged to bring their mutant children in for registration.

Federal Law Revised; Weakens Posse Comitatus; New powers for President


Packaged with the Mutant Registration Act was an amendment to the Insurrection Act:
The President may employ the armed forces to restore public order and enforce the laws of the United States when, as a result of a natural disaster, epidemic, or other serious public health emergency, terrorist attack or incident, or other condition the President determines that domestic violence has occurred to such an extent that the constituted authorities of the State or possession are incapable of maintaining public order or suppress, in a State, any insurrection, domestic violence, unlawful combination, or conspiracy.

In addition to the revision to posse comitatus the President also gained the power to un-offically suspend habeus corpus and keep mutants involved in violence detained without trial for an indeterminate period of time. A legal challenge was immediately launched and it is not expected to survive the courts scrutiny, but meanwhile it is being taken full advantage of.

National Guard Deployed in American Cities

For the first time since the Civil Rights movement President Obama ordered that the National Guard be deployed to the most troubled areas and state militia’s were placed under federal control. This included Indianapolis where a state of emergency was declared and a curfew imposed as the National Guard took to the streets arresting. Incidents of mutants being shot on sight also filtered out from the city. Other cities included New York and Washington D.C., Richmond, Baltimore, Chicago, Atlanta and Boston as a precautionary measure, as well as cities throughout Florida including Tallahassee, Gainesville, Tampa, and Miami where the National Guard set up checkpoints on all roads in and out of the city and imposed a curfew in Gainesville and Tallahassee. It is unknown for how long the National Guard will remain deployed.

On a possibly related note President Obama’s approval ratings rose to 59% for the first time since 2008.
 
Raul and August

The Director of the Department of Mutant Affairs hands President Obama the file. President Obama reads it over carefully, lines of worry crease his manly attractive brow. “Are you certain the reactivating Project SPECTER is the best step forward?” he asks in a deep sexy voice

“Yes. It is the best weapon we have.” Says the Director

President Obama” nods sexily “Do it.” He says

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Area 51 a man in a lab coat walked through the cells lined with all sorts of mutants in them. He ignores them all and walk to the room at the very end of the hall.

He open’s the door. Inside the room is a woman attached to life support machines. She is ancient and wizened. She is kept alive only by the machines which are constantly humming and pumping.

“It’s time to wake up Agatha” the man says and sticks a syringe into her filled with a yellow liquid.

Her eyes still closed she opens her mouth and a shadow ooze out and takes a semi-human form its eyes glowing ominously red.
The man smiles “Its night now and winter. I would say you have a good 12 hours to find them before you need to return. And once you find them, well you know what to do. Don’t fail.”

The shadow races out of the room.

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Raul is driving the car now along a fairly quiet piece of road. August and Ricky are in the back sitting silently while Alice is in the seat next to him sleeping.

He notices a shadow flit past the corner of his eye but dismisses it as a trick of the light.

Alice suddenly jerks upright. She looks around and cracks her knuckles. Raul notices something odd. Her eyes seem different. They have a reddish tint to them.

“Nightmare?” he asks

She doesn’t reply. She reaches out her hand and places it on the dashboard.

“What are you…..” the question is cut off as electricity surges from her arm into the cars engine blowing the battery. The car loses control and spins into a ditch on the side of the road. Alice calmly opens the door and steps out of the car. Her fingers crackle with power. Ricky kicks the car door out sending it hurling toward her. She dodges it and electricity lances at Ricky whose still sitting in the car and hits him full in the chest. For an ordinary man it would have stopped their heart killing them instantly. But Ricky is not ordinary man. But even he can’t manage to stay conscious from the sheer power being pumped into him. He grunts in anger and pain as it leaves a wicked burn across his chest and then collapses with a heavy thud to the ground.
(Injury sustained: Ricky burn on chest, unconscious)

August snarls in fury “Why you little whore!” and prepares to drain her when Raul cries out “No! Something’s not right! This isn’t Alice!”

August ignores him and lunges. Raul turns his shirt into lead sending him crashing to the ground where he curses angrily at Raul and Alice.
(Injury sustained: Bruises)

Raul turns to face Alice. Her eyes are glowing red now and she smiles cruelly. Electricity surges from her hands again. This is impossible thinks Raul. Alice could never wield this much power.

Suddenly Alice stiffens. The crackling electricity disappears as the first rays of the early morning sun shine down on them. Her mouth opens and a viscous shadow comes pouring out briefly taking a humanoid shape with glowing red eyes before racing away.
Alice crumples to the ground like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in Area 51 the man in the lab coat watches as Agatha returns. “Well?” he asks expectantly

The shadow hisses something before returning into the old woman’s body.

“Most disappointing Agatha.” He says “You will have to be punished for that.”

He injects her with a syringe filled with a thick green liquid and though she is comatose her face contorts in pain.

“You will just have to try again tomorrow night. And the night after that for however long it takes. See that you do not fail again.”

Cody

Cody raced down the highway in his car. He knew the serial killer wasn’t in Indianapolis anymore or the guy responsible for the Stock Market attack. So where were they going? The fact that he and Alice had gone to Indianapolis in the first place to meet up with this serial killer meant they had a goal, a cause. He had studied the NYSE attack carefully, they had refrained from undue violence, and they hadn’t been indiscriminate, completely at odds with how the serial killer behaved. It was like they were building up an army for their “Mutant Inspirational Liberation Front “and if you were a liberation front, well wouldn’t you go where the most oppressed were? When the news broke about the Florida riots being crushed he knew instinctively in his gut that they would go there like moths drawn to a fire.

Bronislav

“We’ve been betrayed!” cried Karak angrily putting the paper down “Those Triad bastards! They must have told the Tongs it was all our doing.”

He turned to Bronislav “The Tongs will be coming for us now. We have to go to the mattresses.”
As he said that the windows shattered as gunfire erupted. Bronislav and Karak dove to the floor for cover as machine gun fire raked the room. Bronislav grunts as a bullet grazes his arm.

(Injury sustained: Right arm bullet graze)

Syson

Syson is preaching organizing mutants and resistance to the humans in New York when the situation begins to turn violent as humans move forward to assault him only to clash with mutants in the crowd leading to a full scale riot which attracts the attention of the NYPD. They move in with water cannons, tasers, truncheons, and pepper spray and violently suppress the riot. The mutant rioters are arrested while the humans are allowed to go.

Syson find himself handcuffed in the back of a police truck together with other mutants.

Stephen

Stephen gets the call in the middle of the night. It’s his partner, his voice sounds urgent “Get ready for me to pick you up. We have work to do. The Boss wants us in New York. Say’s something worrying has come to his attention.”

Mark

The truck Mark is hiding in pulls into a New York warehouse after an eight hour drive. He hears men shouting to each other in Chinese, that’s when he notices the refrigeration unit he’s sitting in seems to have packets of white powder hidden in a secret compartment.

It occurs to him suddenly that he may be in a Triad drug running truck.

Barnabas

Barnabas is with the gangsters on their turf when smoke grenades are thrown through the window and the door is kicked down by gunmen. The gangsters reached for their guns only to be mercilessly gunned down where they stand.

Barnabas stands up but gets hit by a taser and then mace which brings him to his knees. A cop walks up to him “That’s the mutie we’re after” he snarls

Barnabas recognizes him as one of the guards from the facility he was kept at. “What do you want to do with the mutie kid?” asks one of the men

“Dispose of him.” He replies coldly “We’re only interested in this one.”

(Injury sustained: Mace in eyes, taser shock)

Set

Set flees New York leaving death in his wake. He finds his attempt to leave the city complicated by the curfew and checkpoints by the National Guard who have taken to shooting mutants on sight. He reaches the Port Authority attempting to cross over to Newark when he is demanded his paper by Guardsmen.

Magnus

Magnus is tasked by the Governor to work closely with the National Guard in dealing with the mutant “problem” as he calls it. Magnus dives into the task eagerly and is sent to Tallahassee to supervise operations there after his success in Gainesville.

Bloodwolf and Klauss

Bloodwolf and Klauss fly to New York and find the city in a state of lockdown with National Guard patrolling the street. They are stopped at a checkpoint by a Guard who asks to see their paper and search their bags.
 
As you can see in this update my goal was to cause problems for all of you. I hope I succeed adequately in this.
 
Anywhere but Indianapolis, Raul sulks in the driver’s seat of his tiny little station wagon.

“Any owner’s manual,” Alice asks him, bruised, disheartened, August shrugs and shakes his head, changing into something more, Jacob the cop? Something more normal. Alice can’t go in.

“Are we really buying books?” he asks.

“Take the money, buy some books, get some good field food, things to eat on the march” Raul hunkers down low in the driver’s seat. Some little used book store in Dothan Alabama, not the place to get arrested. Antimutant sentiment is high after Indianapolis, the huge man in the back of the station wagon is covered in towels, hidden. Alice is also hunkered down in the car.

August walks towards the strip mall, a used bookstore and a little grocery store.

What the hell happened to Alice? Could they find them with her? If they had someone who could posess her, what was with that black mist?

Raul is nothing but confused.

“It’s too dangerous to keep me around isn’t it?” Alice asks him, the man under the towel in the back, he holds his tongue.

“We’ll figure it out,” Raul says.

Alice cries, Ricky stays quiet, grumbles a bit.

Raul puts his hand on her shoulder, “Alice, you called me because you were in trouble. I helped you out because you were in trouble. We’ve been through too much for me to just ditch you now. We’re in this together.

“We are going to have to keep an eye on you though. I don’t know how often this is going to happen, something like that has to be exhausting.

“We’ll be alright.”

She stops crying, starts mopping up her tears.

August suddenly opens the door and tosses a couple of satchels and piles of ready to eat food to the other side of the station wagon, he leans up to Alice with a handful of manuals, “Two motorcycle manuals, an electrician’s handbook, A Chrysler, three Hondas, and a 1987 Eurocopter manual.”

“A helicopter?” Alice asks.

“It’s what they had.” August says.

Alice sniffles, “Thank you.”

August doesn’t say anything.

Raul pulls the car back on the road, back roads, less chance for trouble, “Did you kill anybody?”

August doesn’t reply.

“We can’t be killing people like that,” Raul says.

Indianapolis.

“Why not?” August asks, sarcastically.

“It’s sloppy, it’s just going to make the job harder on us.”

“What job? Killing Humans?”

“No,” Raul says, quiet, shocked.

“This won’t be over until they’re all on the run, and the only thing they understand,” Ricky says from under the towel, “Is blood.”

“This reaction we got in Indianapolis, this is not the reaction we wanted.”

Indianapolis. Yes, a defeat for the forces of law and order, but he could only see it as a pyrrhic victory if it was one at all.

National Guard in the cities.

Indianapolis.

This is going to be much harder.

They argue for a half hour, before Raul just turns the radio to Salsa music. August groans.

Fuzz, radio silence all of the sudden, station out.

Alice finally smiles, sitting in the passenger’s seat, reading a motorcycle manual.

-

At the border, one mile from the border, the Mutant Inspirational Liberation Front finally ditched the old faithful station wagon. Raul frown, he’s going to miss it. Alice has her books in a satchel. Raul sets fire to all of the fake, illegally acquired, easily traceable, paperwork in the dashboard.

“Why not just drive it right up on their front lawns and raise hell?” August asks.

Raul frowns, now there’s national Guard on the streets, “You need a touch more subtlety.”

The car turns to dust. Like Cortez burning the ship, like Julius crossing the Rubicon.

Who was Raul kidding, he had burned all the bridges already, crossed all the boundaries, was well beyond the point of no return.

Indianapolis.

“There’s nothing subtle about a forced march.”

“Have you ever heard of the bay of pigs?” Raul asks.

“Yes.”

“Well, we’re not going to launch a frontal assault like kennedy's stupid guys. How did they not look into how the actual revolution was won? The one guy who always knew how to fight a guerilla campaign was Fidel Castro, take the countryside, lure them out, hit them where they’re weak.”

Crossing the State line, Alice rides on Ricky’s shoulders, a firm code of silence preserving that fragile balance.

Welcome to Florida.

Almost as soon as the swamp is under the jurisdiction of Rick Scott, hardly a mile from US-231, and only a hour walk through the swamp from the border, a large pyre is clear in the midst of a clearing, and Raul frowns to see tall white hats rounding people up, herding them to the stakes.

Lynching 2.0, how efficient, how cold, how calculating.

August turns to Raul, “Well, Mr. Pacifist, are we just going to let this happen?”

“Nobody has to die.”

August smiles and looks at Ricky.

“Can’t teach dead men good manners,” Alice says.

The air around her is crackling.
 
This looks fun. Is it too late to join? If not, here's my app...

Name: Al E. Gator
Age: 27
Occupation: Revolutionary Guerrilla Leader
Location: Deep within the Florida Everglades
Physical Description: Tall, around 6'1", covered from head to tail in green scales. Claw-like fingernails, and no hair. His irises are all red.
Mutant Powers/Abilities: He can dominate the minds of any number of animals to do his bidding, his extra thick scaled hide makes him almost impervious to gun fire, knives, etc., but doesn't protect him much against electricity, explosives, fire, etc.
Other Skills: Wilderness survival, knows how to shoot guns (raised by rednecks), can build primitive weapons, 4th grade reading level.
Possessions:
Injuries: None
Affiliation: Gator's Army
Followers: ?
Background: Al E. Gator started out life as Lee E. Roberts, the son of a white trash trailer park family outside of Orlando, FL. From the get-go, people knew he was different, the boy covered in scales from head to toe, no hair, and those frightening red eyes. He was ridiculed for all of his school days, and his parents were as well. Though his mother loved him, his father thought him an abomination. When he was only 10 yeas old, at the beginning of his fifth grade year, his mother was involved in a tragic hunting accident which cost her her life. Lee's father, blaming this child that repulsed him for the death of his dear wife, and in a drunken stupor, loaded his son up in his pickup one night and drove him out into the middle of the Everglades, where he dumped the boy, hoping he'd be killed off by the elements. Though he hated the monstrosity that as his son, he still couldn't bring himself to kill the boy outright.

Without his father's knowledge, however, the boy survived. He had always had a special connection with the various pets in the trailer park, but everyone believed that was just because he looked to weird to make real friends his age. However, what no one, even little Lee knew, was that he was able to control the animals with his mind. Sitting there, in the middle of the swamp in the middle of that late September night, a hungry gator, looking for its last meal of the year, came up to eat the boy. He was, however, no match for Lee's mind, and the child was able to control the gator to fetch him food himself.

After years of living amongst the various animals of the Everglades, he had finally decided to strike back at, what he believed, to be the true problem with the world: humans. With the help of some sympathetic mutants he has met in his very few forays into towns, he has spread fliers around Orlando, an even as far south as Miami, calling for the mutants of Florida to take up arms, or brains, or claws, against the human oppressors. He has also re-christened himself Al E. Gator, partly to show his connection with animals, and partly to make it harder for the authorities to track him down.
 
Can your hide defend against a .50 cal?
 
There are a few things that can truly piss August off. One was a lynching but maybe that was because he's biracial. The other is a shot to his pride which, having his shirt turned to lead not too long ago, embarrassed him deeply but out of respect for Raul, he didn't do anything.

"Ricky?"

"Yes, boss?"

"Don't call me that. You're my equal here. My partner! But I need you to hang back. All of you. Because, like Raul has been thinking, we've crossed the Rubicon. To be honest, I'm abuzz with energy. I'm in an absa-**cking-lutly foul mood right now," he said so calmly but even then, Raul felt August losing control. The young man's voice had taken that silky smooth tone that he used to manipulate the thoughts of people but there was something else in there at the moment.

They hadn't seen what a true mutant is capable of.

Steel. Fire and steel. Without a word, he transformed into a Mike, the police officer, but something had changed. Mike's hair had turned from mousy brown to Aryan Blond (TM). His eyes from, again standard brown, to hazel (not quite blue) like August's eyes were when he remained in his true form long enough for anyone to make eye contact.

He approached, what had Raul thought it was called? Lynching 2.0? Fitting. How many people had killed up until this point? 50? There were a lot of homeless in Indianapolis. Men and women and children who had fallen through the cracks and into August's soft death grip.

He had held back. For a while, he didn't trust Raul and therefore didn't bother showing the former

priest?

what he can do if he put a little effort into it. August was proud because he had come a long way of trying to meek out energy through complex stealth killings in bar bathrooms or frat houses. At some point, he had been able just to call the people over to him and they would embrace the peace he gave them.

These people? These men with their perty white hoods?

"I see y'all are killing damn muties!" August smiled and chuckled, "Don't let the uniform fool you guys. I'm here to tell you that you guys got the full support of Tallahassee you do!"

Why had he said that so loud? Raul thought to himself. Why is? To get all them in his death grip. He'll kill them painlessly like he killed so many others.

"We sure are, officer," said the Grandmaster of this group, "Damn freaks here but that freak is the worst!" He yelled and pointed to a woman who got the honor of being put on the largest pyre, "Psychic!"

"That's so interesting," August said cheerfully, "How many of you fine gents are here?"

"Forty! To kill just eight of these freaks too. Use to be a time where the muties knew their place but since they think they have the upperhand, we have to put down their uppity ways, don't we?"

"You sure do," August smiled, "Do you have a gun?"

"Y-"

"Go shoot yourself in the head please." Without so much as a second thought, the Grandmaster drew his gun and ate a bullet.

"What the hell? Guys! That cop's a mutant! G-" The man stopped mid-sentence. His heart had been stopped. It was as if Death himself had reached out and touched him personally.

38 versus 1 should've been long odds and indeed, many of these men probably saw combat.

There were three survivors. One had his mind bombarded by so many contradicting messages, feelings, images, sensations, his mind simply gave up and is now in an asylum. Another man was so stunned by the violence he lost his voice. His wife, his children, his closest friends just can't get him to speak.

And as for the third man?

"Bobby, Joey, and Derrick were standing right by me, man. And all of a sudden they're screaming and clawing at their own faces and their hair is graying! Bobby was only 17 but after that MUTANT was done with him, he looked as if he was born when the Stock Market crashed.

And the blood. Everywhere. My son....WHERE'S MY SON?"

And that man is just like that. That's because August punished this man, the man who was about to light the fires, with a fate worst than death.

Not knowing that his sons had been killed. That they had been vaporized. Not knowing that when the cops arrived so much later, that it looked like his sons had stepped on a Vietnamese landmine with C4 strapped around their bodies."

Every day, people will tell him that his son die and he would cry for a minute and then forget. Because August doesn't screw around.
--------

Raul watched as August helped down one mutant after another from their makeshift pyre. He really is different when he's not mad. Go figure? The kid may actually have gotten the massacre out of his system.

But if there's one thing Raul was uneasy about was the wink from August to the psychic. And her blush and giggle.

Alice, who had earlier wanted to go against the humans in the white hoods just as badly as August, spoke in monotone, "They're about the same age, aren't they?"

Raul looked at her funny, "You saw it too?"

She nodded.
 
GREAT update Kara, I like it a lot, if you think I'm ignoring to posesession thing or downplaying it too much then just PM me and let me know and I can edit any story

Like I said I like the update, but...

are you updating the character post? And what about NPC's, like Alice? Obviously you can't just add on the space for all the possible NPC's, but how does she register her injuries or things that she learns over the course of the game? Like the hotwiring thing, I kinda wanted to develop her into an electronics expert on top of her electrical power if that's possible, but will it be able to show up in the stats?

Could you just put this stuff in (parenthesese or something after her name on my follower's list)?
 
“Papers” the guard demanded. How to do this? Sixteen victims in a single night, the blood was filling him with desire for the life of these poor fools.

No. They have done nothing; they only did as their superiors had told them.
“Here you are” Set hands the man a blank sheet of paper.

“Everything seems to be in order here” the man replies after studying the slip of paper for a moment. “Enjoy your trip to New Jersey” the guard says and waves him through the barricade.

The bigots he had slaughtered in the Christian Identity hideout had given him information, enough to know that they had left the south for New York very recently and had hoped to gain anti mutant support in the city. They told him everything he wanted to know gladly, cheerfully divulging the information to old friends and family. Then they died screaming.

In the darkness on just across the bridge from New York Set gathered his strength and in a rush of shadow and wind began to run south at top speed.
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His power expended and the sun rising, he rented a hotel room in Norfolk for the day covering the window with blankets and barricading the door. He instructed the man at the desk that he was not to be disturbed during the day, the clerk smiling and nodding at the wealthy business man who had just tipped him very well, assuring him that no one would bother him.

As he laid down to sleep he could still hear the screams, the pleas for mercy, the cries to a god who they then herd answer, denouncing their evil and hateful ways and then pronouncing his judgment; unclean.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When he woke up he checked out, paid in cash taken from the victims in New York.
Sunset in Norfolk, the search for what he would need to complete his journey took only minutes, as he knocked on the car window the driver opened the door and stepped out. He smiled at the driver and thanked him “enjoy your trip father” the man said.

“Sleep well my son” he gently drained the blood from the former owner of the vehicle, the man’s face looked peaceful. There were so many hiding places for a body in the modern city; this one would be another in the thousands of unexplained deaths every day. Of course it’s possible that the body in its shallow grave in the construction site would never be found.

He got on the interstate and headed south, reasserting to himself that he would continue this trip at a more human pace. It was much more prudent he didn’t want to leave a trail of bodies a cross the country that someone might follow. He couldn’t give into the blood lust like he had in New York, it wouldn’t do to terrify the mutants he wanted to befriend.

The road stretched endlessly in front of him, trees flying past on either side at an incredible speed.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep
But I have promises to keep
And Miles to go before I sleep
And Miles to go before I sleep
 
The little boy was about 6 years old. He peered at Dlanor curiously. What is it? Dlanor asked. He pointed towards the small object lying on her bedstand. You are from the DMA? The little boy asked in a small childish way. Yes, Dlanor replied. Yes, I am from the DMA. Cool, the boy answered. So what's your code name? Dlanor was taken aback. My code name? Yeah your code name. You know, all special agents are supposed to have them. Like Agent Deep Throat...or Bobwingo... or something like that. Dlanor laughed. Well, some people call me Murder Doll. What does murder mean? the boy asked. It means to kill. That's not a nice name. Yes, Dlanor said. Yes, it was not. No, no, the boy replied. I don't mean it like that. I meant that it's not fitting. Hmm? Dlanor raised an eyebrow. DMA agents are supposed to fight for justice and law, right? The boy said. Most of time, Dlanor said. No, all the time, the boy said as if he knew it all. But your name sounds like what the villian's name would sound like. Really? Dlanor said. Yeah, the boy replied. Why don't you get a new name for yourself?

Dlanor thought about this for a couple of seconds. You know, I really can't think of anything right now. Could you think of one for me?
 
Al entered the small convenience store. It was just past midnight, there was not a soul in sight except for the cashier. Al nodded at the cashier, and the cashier nodded back, turned to the small TV behind the pay counter, and turned up the volume.

“…riots have finally been put down. The Governor praised the local police agencies for their professional handlings of the situations. He claims these recent riots are even more evidence for even stronger mutant control laws, which he claims is just as much for their safety as our own.”

The cashier muted the screen. The attractive news anchorwoman kept jabbering away silently. The man behind the counter looked out at Al. “Man, them anti-mutant people get no worse than the governor, for sure, brother.” he said.

Al, browsing the canned goods aisle, just nodded. He was thinking to himself what he could potential do about this. Since he didn’t talk back to the cashier, however, the man unmated the television.

“In related news, The Governor has promised to make a visit to the Everglades National Park outside of Orlando next week, as he said he would earlier in the month, to give a speech related to his new conservation initiatives…”

Al immediately took notice. He listened intently, apparently the governor would be in his home turf next week. This gave him the perfect opportunity to deal with this very dangerous threat.

After Al paid for his goods and turned to leave, the cashier spoke up. “Hey, Al, I hate to tell you this, brother, but we ain’t gonna be open much longer. Ain’t getting enough business, people not liking that the store is run by mutants and all. I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to find somewhere else to do your shopping from now on, brother.”

Al nodded, but didn’t say anything. He only frowned, and walked off into the night.

-------

The Governor stood at the podium, giving his speech. The day was decently warm, in the low 70s, not completely unheard of this time of year in this part of the country. The Governor was sweating underneath his suit, but this was what he lived for, and he didn’t let it get to him.

The constant mosquito bites, however, were quite irritating. As he talked, he slapped at a mosquito, just as two more landed on the back of his neck. No one else seemed to be bothered by the annoying little things, except for him. Inside, he shrugged to himself. Maybe he was just the only one who forgot to spray bug spray.

Unbeknownst to anyone at the speech, a very tiny oak toad slowly made his way to the governor. Being less than an inch long, he was not noticed by anyone, let alone The Governor. The little toad did not completely understand what it was doing, but for some reason it seemed what it was doing was right. It climbed up his shoe, and jumped onto the inside hem of his pant leg. There the toad sat, during the rest of the speech, and into the night, riding with The Governor back to his motel room.

----------

As The Governor slept next to his wife in the small motel room, the toad slowly made his way out of The Governor’s pants. Though the leader of the state had tight security, no one knew if a mutant fanatic would attempt to take his life any day now, the guards had not anticipated a toad.

The toad crawled across the room, up the bed. The Governor lay snoring, the toad creeping along the bed, up the head board. It still did not quite feel like it was in total control of itself, but at the same time it felt like it was doing what it needed to do.

Sitting on the headboard above The Governor’s sleeping form, his mouth open and directly below the small amphibian, the toad leaped. It landed in The Governor’s mouth, and quickly crawled its way down his throat, settling in his larynx, the man waking up, clutching his throat, gagging, and rolling out of bed. His wife awoke for a moment, but just as soon as she awoke, she groggily went back to sleep, assuming her husband had gotten up to use the bathroom.

Writhing on the floor, clutching his neck, The Governor expired.

“Got a frog in your throat?” Al thought to himself, smiling, when news broke the next day about The Governor’s death.
 
The burnt-down store two months ago was a sign – one among many. Michael was not a superstitious man; but that did not mean he ignored this kind of signs. He read them well and understood quickly just what they meant for him and his Work. Violence grew; the common people were trying and failing to force back the Change that was happening amongst them, having been alerted too late to get in the way; the mighty of this world too began to take measures, seeking to safeguard their power. But it was all too ineffectual.

Despite the shop burning, St. Louis mostly remained on the fringe of the events, even as other cities in America seemed to turn into war zones. That was alright; Michael was not in any hurry. People were starting to get used to his face – mostly in the soup kitchens. His beliefs – what little of them he had stated – were not widely accepted, but neither were they strongly repudiated. If need be, he could Start here. Although that hasn’t been his Plan.

In two months time he also made a few valuable contacts among the local… “mutants”. He wasn’t exactly one of them – regardless of what some of them must’ve suspected and sometimes even hinted at – but he was not one of their enemies nevertheless, at least. Their hostility to outsiders was a little frustrating, but understandable. In the meantime, the most important gain for his Work was the Caveman.

The Caveman was a recluse who kept away from all the other mutants; he must have thought that Michael was essentially the same, and for this reason seemed to start a grudging friendship. (Michael made a mental note that he should not finish this man’s Conversion, at least not yet – but rather he would serve the Work better by staying who he was) He didn’t seem to have much in the way of powers except for his vast bulk and unsettlingly primal facial features, but Michael knew that his mind was the real Gift. That and the Caveman was surprisingly plugged in for one so isolated. He knew of the affairs of many mutant communities elsewhere – the things they said and rumours, of course, but they had helped paint a bigger picture. With his help, Michael felt he could rest easy. The Old Age he has come to replace would start the Work for him. And then he would just need to take the right moment.

The signs continued, however, and Michael knew that it was almost time to Start. He was going to start becoming a little too well-known if he stayed here for two more months. He had already fought off a man he ended up sending home, aware that at the end he had become Converted. That would’ve been good, except who knows what an all too eager neophyte might spread? And there might have been others, from the first time he went into that part of the town…
Michael went out into the street, ignoring the cold, dressed in his yellow rain-coat as usual. This time it did not take long.

An alley. A young black woman, in clearly and suspiciously too many layers of clothing hiding everything but the face, half-lying on the ground, her back against the wall; fear and self-loathing; one of the Gifted. Three men. One of them has a knife. Hatred; aggression. Disgust.

“What’re you smiling at?!” – one of them asked, noticing Michael approach.

“Enjoying the sight of the Work my Lord set out for me,” – Michael said, before lunging at the man, the smile still on his face.
 
The little digital display read 4:20 am. He had heard the news reports as he drove violence everywhere, National Guard deployments, the leader of the country declaring a state of emergency, and a law. The law was what most angered him; this blatant discrimination against his people could not stand.

He had seen it before in a thousand places and times; these were the steps leading to an all out civil war.

He took the exit off the highway where the green signs told him he could purchase more gasoline for his automobile. The small old fashioned looking gas station was half a mile from the interstate; he turned the wheel and cut the switch on the vehicle next to one of the pumps.

“Listen boy we don’t want no foreigners around here!” raised voices from inside the small store. An Arabic man was at the counter attempting to wrench free of the grasp of the burly men who held his arms.

“What seems to be the problem here?” Set’s question made the two men jump and release their captive, who made a dash for the door obviously deciding that he could buy gas somewhere else.

“None of your business punk, you want some gas? You better be able to prove you’re an American we don’t serve mutants or foreigners.”

Set laughed a little to himself, remembering the last time someone had asked him if he was an ‘American.’

“I asked if you were an American, or whether you were loyal to your king, Sir!” Set had smiled. The Red Coat’s head had snapped all the way around, the man never even knew that Set’s hands had moved. When the body landed at the feet of the group of British soldiers across the yard, several had screamed and started to run. The Captain had demanded that I quarter his troops for the night, and had expected no resistance. He did not know who he was fing with.

He did not need to feed again tonight, and it would not do to give in to the blood lust here, he could drink the town dry. These sadistic men however; would die.
Even as he merged from the ramp, his signal blinking, sliding smoothly into the left lane; the gas station attendant and his friend lay dead their own blood pooling around them. An empty casing laying on the floor, and the handle of a hunting style buck knife protruding from the chest of one of the corpses; violent, brutal men.
 
GREAT update Kara, I like it a lot, if you think I'm ignoring to posesession thing or downplaying it too much then just PM me and let me know and I can edit any story

Like I said I like the update, but...

are you updating the character post? And what about NPC's, like Alice? Obviously you can't just add on the space for all the possible NPC's, but how does she register her injuries or things that she learns over the course of the game? Like the hotwiring thing, I kinda wanted to develop her into an electronics expert on top of her electrical power if that's possible, but will it be able to show up in the stats?

Could you just put this stuff in (parenthesese or something after her name on my follower's list)?

It's up to you, but characters I name are recurring characters.

I will update it, just tell me what has changed, and yeah I'll proabaly do something like that.
 
Eh if you're going to be offing RL people in your stories, don't use their real names, yeah. I was using their real names for immersion purpose but I dunno maybe I'm paranoid but I would change it.
 
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