Mutant NES: The Rising
- Thread starter Karalysia
- Start date
das
Regeneration In Process
Ugh. I guess I'll get around to writing more when I'll get around to it; just had an odd case of writer's block. In any case, that's not so bad - Michael is supposed to mostly bide his time still at this point, slowly working his way up, improving his reputation by participating in charitable activities (volunteering at soup kitchens) and picking fights with muggers to later reform them.
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
story coming as soon as I get my laptop hooked up to the intranet. THIS EVENING.
"&*#@!"
Mark's whole body tensed as he gunned the accelerator and screeched down the icy road. The police car behind him struggled to get back onto the road, while the other was forced into the other lane to avoid a collision. Mark dared not risk an extended look backwards, but he saw the second car (the one which had tried to cut him off) losing traction and sliding sideways along the road, drifting inevitably towards the snowed-in ditch.
Teeth gritted, Mark watched his speedometer ponderously climb towards 80 clicks, barely daring to move lest he knock the steering wheel anywhere off of dead straight- it was a prairie road, if he could keep going straight, he'd stay on the road clear east through to Winnipeg.
90, 100, 110... and the car behind him was keeping up, sirens blaring through the crisp afternoon air. Mark briefly noted that it was a bit like Need for Speed, but less fun. He briefly contemplated whether video games had been an advantage of a disadvantage, before watching his speed top 120.
Bump.
It had just been a little thing, a crack or swelling in the pavement, but with this traction and speed, it felt like a full speedbump, bouncing the car and putting it into a skid. Mark panicked, and reamed the steering wheel in the opposite direction, but he had no hold on the road, it continued to slide out of control and sideways, drifting at near the speed limit into the opposite lane of traffic.
Directly into an oncoming semi-truck.
Mark's eyes only had a split second to widen before impact. The small sedan crumpled as the reinforced bumper crushed into the driver's side, spending sparks flying. The semi truck slammed on the brakes, sliding to a stop several hundred meters down the road, the utterly ruined car lying shattered in front of it.
For a few seconds, there was no noise safe for the hushed rustling of winter. A driver got out of the vehicle and ran towards the wreck, which was spitting out smoke. He reached in to a shattered window and pulled out an empty jacket, then some pants, a glove... but there was no body to be found. As the smoke intensified, a police car pulled to a stop, the officer stepping out immediately afterwards. Shocked, the angry words were exchanged, with plenty of words like 'reckless endangerment', '[expletive] have you thrown out of the force' and 'just a joyriding kid' being thrown around.
Mark, of course, wasn't around to hear any of it.
Mark's whole body tensed as he gunned the accelerator and screeched down the icy road. The police car behind him struggled to get back onto the road, while the other was forced into the other lane to avoid a collision. Mark dared not risk an extended look backwards, but he saw the second car (the one which had tried to cut him off) losing traction and sliding sideways along the road, drifting inevitably towards the snowed-in ditch.
Teeth gritted, Mark watched his speedometer ponderously climb towards 80 clicks, barely daring to move lest he knock the steering wheel anywhere off of dead straight- it was a prairie road, if he could keep going straight, he'd stay on the road clear east through to Winnipeg.
90, 100, 110... and the car behind him was keeping up, sirens blaring through the crisp afternoon air. Mark briefly noted that it was a bit like Need for Speed, but less fun. He briefly contemplated whether video games had been an advantage of a disadvantage, before watching his speed top 120.
Bump.
It had just been a little thing, a crack or swelling in the pavement, but with this traction and speed, it felt like a full speedbump, bouncing the car and putting it into a skid. Mark panicked, and reamed the steering wheel in the opposite direction, but he had no hold on the road, it continued to slide out of control and sideways, drifting at near the speed limit into the opposite lane of traffic.
Directly into an oncoming semi-truck.
Mark's eyes only had a split second to widen before impact. The small sedan crumpled as the reinforced bumper crushed into the driver's side, spending sparks flying. The semi truck slammed on the brakes, sliding to a stop several hundred meters down the road, the utterly ruined car lying shattered in front of it.
For a few seconds, there was no noise safe for the hushed rustling of winter. A driver got out of the vehicle and ran towards the wreck, which was spitting out smoke. He reached in to a shattered window and pulled out an empty jacket, then some pants, a glove... but there was no body to be found. As the smoke intensified, a police car pulled to a stop, the officer stepping out immediately afterwards. Shocked, the angry words were exchanged, with plenty of words like 'reckless endangerment', '[expletive] have you thrown out of the force' and 'just a joyriding kid' being thrown around.
Mark, of course, wasn't around to hear any of it.
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
This is Dr. Ted Moore; interview one, a Special Agent Magnus Andersen, in regard to the Kappa operation twelve in the Gainesville area. Begin Interview
Sir, were you involved in the twelfth operation of the Kappa series?
Magnus straightened, visibly unconcerned with the interview. Yes.
Was the operation successful?
Only in the eyes of the state of Florida; I found the entire ordeal lacking in discipline and when the specimen died, it only got worse, what with the paperwork and all.
Do you recall the specimens appearance or any remarkable attributes?
Black male, average build and height, missing the ring finger of his left hand.
How was the specimen dispatched?
We walked into his domicile, and one of the agents apprehended him. After the cuffs were on, my senior agent and I returned to the truck and started on the paperwork. When we returned to get the junior agents signature, we found him mauled and the specimen was trying to squirm into the kitchen. His talent was more pronounced than the citizens reports. We apprehended him again, this time duct-taping his mouth shut, and we placed him in the truck.
I hate to sound dense, but what exactly was his talent?
Controlled jaw-expansion, coupled with a semi-kinetic cranium. His jaw was also extraordinarily strong, explaining why he could bite through the junior agents neck without any real resistance.
Several other more bureaucratic questions were asked, and the lieutenant governor came in. The lieutenant governor was a short, squat man who had a keen interest in the Kappa teams success. He had come to deliver the news that Magnus was now the official senior agent of the Kappa team, the elite mutant hunters, and he answered only to one man. The mutants were already uncomfortable in Gainesville, but with Senior Agent Andersen at the front of the Governors anti-mutant spear, they were about to suffer much more than discomfort.
Actions for this update: Magnus is going to be spending most of his time motivating the mutant-hunters in Florida and personally hunting more mutants. DOWN WITH MUTANTS!
Magnus straightened, visibly unconcerned with the interview. Yes.
Was the operation successful?
Only in the eyes of the state of Florida; I found the entire ordeal lacking in discipline and when the specimen died, it only got worse, what with the paperwork and all.
Do you recall the specimens appearance or any remarkable attributes?
Black male, average build and height, missing the ring finger of his left hand.
How was the specimen dispatched?
We walked into his domicile, and one of the agents apprehended him. After the cuffs were on, my senior agent and I returned to the truck and started on the paperwork. When we returned to get the junior agents signature, we found him mauled and the specimen was trying to squirm into the kitchen. His talent was more pronounced than the citizens reports. We apprehended him again, this time duct-taping his mouth shut, and we placed him in the truck.
I hate to sound dense, but what exactly was his talent?
Controlled jaw-expansion, coupled with a semi-kinetic cranium. His jaw was also extraordinarily strong, explaining why he could bite through the junior agents neck without any real resistance.
Several other more bureaucratic questions were asked, and the lieutenant governor came in. The lieutenant governor was a short, squat man who had a keen interest in the Kappa teams success. He had come to deliver the news that Magnus was now the official senior agent of the Kappa team, the elite mutant hunters, and he answered only to one man. The mutants were already uncomfortable in Gainesville, but with Senior Agent Andersen at the front of the Governors anti-mutant spear, they were about to suffer much more than discomfort.
Actions for this update: Magnus is going to be spending most of his time motivating the mutant-hunters in Florida and personally hunting more mutants. DOWN WITH MUTANTS!
SKILORD
Insurgent
Talk like this will only have negative consequences. Is Florida moving to a mutant terrorism based economy? Watch out Disney World.
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
Magnus's actions are unknown outside of Florida. Destroying mutants is like the governor's personal favorite hobby.
SKILORD
Insurgent
With News outlets covering it? People looking for information or targets can find them, it's still internet times. Even if we can't find out the particulars, we can know who needs to be taken down a peg.
cocky gringo humans.
cocky gringo humans.
SKILORD
Insurgent
ETA on the Update?
Haseri
Emperor
Stephen's actions: Reapply to the police or the Department For Mutant Affairs (DeFMA?).
Megaman_zx
Dark Lord of the Sith
is it too late/too full to join now? i'm getting back into nes-ing and this one looked really cool, and relatively new.
SKILORD
Insurgent
I'm pretty sure it's still open for new players, do it.
Megaman_zx
Dark Lord of the Sith
Name: Barnabas White
Age: 19
Occupation: College Student
Location: NYC, NY
Physical Description: tall and skinny, bald with black aviators and hood on most of the time. He has multiple facial piercings.
Mutant Powers/Abilities: His main power is that he has extremely good luck. He can also read emotions, and like telepathy, he can send his emotions to others, which, since he is suicidally depressed usually have negative effects on his target.
other abilities: failed poet (like most emos, no offense)
Possessions: some spare change
Injuries: None
Affiliation: None
Followers: 0
Background: As a child he always had almost everything he wanted through chance and good luck. If he was hungry and had no money he would happen to find that someone had just dropped a twenty dollar bill. If he didn’t study for a test he could guess at the answers and score a high grade. The only thing which luck didn’t help him with was his depression, and on attempt to commit suicide, some lucky encounter would prevent him, so he thinks of himself as more of a slave to luck. He does not try to take advantage of his powers in the form of gambling, etc. but floats through life, ditching school and passing his exams with lucky guesses. In high school he killed one of his classmates who had decided to bully him by sending his depressed emotions into his opponent, which caused him to commit suicide. Later, after yet another failed suicide attempt, Barnabas finished school and went to college in NY.
Age: 19
Occupation: College Student
Location: NYC, NY
Physical Description: tall and skinny, bald with black aviators and hood on most of the time. He has multiple facial piercings.
Mutant Powers/Abilities: His main power is that he has extremely good luck. He can also read emotions, and like telepathy, he can send his emotions to others, which, since he is suicidally depressed usually have negative effects on his target.
other abilities: failed poet (like most emos, no offense)
Possessions: some spare change
Injuries: None
Affiliation: None
Followers: 0
Background: As a child he always had almost everything he wanted through chance and good luck. If he was hungry and had no money he would happen to find that someone had just dropped a twenty dollar bill. If he didn’t study for a test he could guess at the answers and score a high grade. The only thing which luck didn’t help him with was his depression, and on attempt to commit suicide, some lucky encounter would prevent him, so he thinks of himself as more of a slave to luck. He does not try to take advantage of his powers in the form of gambling, etc. but floats through life, ditching school and passing his exams with lucky guesses. In high school he killed one of his classmates who had decided to bully him by sending his depressed emotions into his opponent, which caused him to commit suicide. Later, after yet another failed suicide attempt, Barnabas finished school and went to college in NY.
Megaman_zx
Dark Lord of the Sith
Since by background story sucked, and i'm a little behind, here is a story to show some of the character of my character, enjoy!
Barnabas wandered the busy streets, wondering what luck would throw at him this time. He was a mutant, but most people wouldnt know, and dismiss him as the freak in the back of class. Like most days, he wasnt even in class, just wandering around the city. Something told him he was being followed, and he could hear an uneasiness somewhere behind him, but if he died, all the better. Its not that he didnt try to be happy, he could have whatever he could want and he had tried most of the pleasures of the world. He decided to creep into an alley, hoping his stalker would confront him. AS he stepped into the darkness he felt a spike of anxiety behind him, but casually continued his walk. When he was far enough from the street that he couldnt be heard, his follower yelled at him from back in the alley, pulling a gun on him and demanding answers.
Stop! I know what you are. Ill turn you in to the HDAM.
and if I refuse?
Ill shoot you, kill you!
You cant kill me. Barnabas said calmly without doubt that this was true. Strangely, under the anxiety and growing fear emanating from his assailant, he could sense jealousy.
I know youre a mutant he yelled, Theres no way you can skip every class and still get As in every subject. You have to be what, super smart, mind reader, what? Ill blow your brains out!
Barnabas patiently watched as the disgruntled student pulled the trigger of the gun to no effect.
Damn safety. He said fiddling with the gun.
You dont know who I am, or how I feel, but I can tell you I can SHOW you. He eased his emotions into the head the student confronting him, and he immediately stopped fiddling with gun as his eyes widened. He stuttered a bit, maybe saying something like Im sorry, then suddenly clicked the safety off, put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. The shot rang through the alley, and Barnabas just stood there, a small spatter of blood on his face. He hadnt deserved to die like that, he was just confused, and Barnabas didnt even know his name. He took the gun from the cooling hands of a formerly confused college student. He checked the clip, made sure it was cocked and ready, put it to his head, and feinted. He awoke with a cop standing over him.
sorry I had to tase you, but I just couldnt let you take your life after seeing you friend there commit suicide. I know this is hard, but we can help, Ive signed you up for counseling, and Im sure youll be able to get through this. Smiled the benevolent officer
Barnabas mumbled a thank you then moped out of the compound, another failed attempt of another failed human, he sighed, maybe he should go to class today.
Barnabas wandered the busy streets, wondering what luck would throw at him this time. He was a mutant, but most people wouldnt know, and dismiss him as the freak in the back of class. Like most days, he wasnt even in class, just wandering around the city. Something told him he was being followed, and he could hear an uneasiness somewhere behind him, but if he died, all the better. Its not that he didnt try to be happy, he could have whatever he could want and he had tried most of the pleasures of the world. He decided to creep into an alley, hoping his stalker would confront him. AS he stepped into the darkness he felt a spike of anxiety behind him, but casually continued his walk. When he was far enough from the street that he couldnt be heard, his follower yelled at him from back in the alley, pulling a gun on him and demanding answers.
Stop! I know what you are. Ill turn you in to the HDAM.
and if I refuse?
Ill shoot you, kill you!
You cant kill me. Barnabas said calmly without doubt that this was true. Strangely, under the anxiety and growing fear emanating from his assailant, he could sense jealousy.
I know youre a mutant he yelled, Theres no way you can skip every class and still get As in every subject. You have to be what, super smart, mind reader, what? Ill blow your brains out!
Barnabas patiently watched as the disgruntled student pulled the trigger of the gun to no effect.
Damn safety. He said fiddling with the gun.
You dont know who I am, or how I feel, but I can tell you I can SHOW you. He eased his emotions into the head the student confronting him, and he immediately stopped fiddling with gun as his eyes widened. He stuttered a bit, maybe saying something like Im sorry, then suddenly clicked the safety off, put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. The shot rang through the alley, and Barnabas just stood there, a small spatter of blood on his face. He hadnt deserved to die like that, he was just confused, and Barnabas didnt even know his name. He took the gun from the cooling hands of a formerly confused college student. He checked the clip, made sure it was cocked and ready, put it to his head, and feinted. He awoke with a cop standing over him.
sorry I had to tase you, but I just couldnt let you take your life after seeing you friend there commit suicide. I know this is hard, but we can help, Ive signed you up for counseling, and Im sure youll be able to get through this. Smiled the benevolent officer
Barnabas mumbled a thank you then moped out of the compound, another failed attempt of another failed human, he sighed, maybe he should go to class today.
Mark was shaking. He was naked, and curled up in an uncomfortable darkness.
He was very cold. He was blind. He was terrified.
With great effort, he got himself to calm down, feeling his heart rate slow. How was he not dead?
The thought suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. Fighting down panic once more, Mark felt his arm. He tried to move, but felt constrained. His surroundings were filled with... something soft, but just a little rough. Just like...
"Foam peanuts?" came his incredulous voice.
The area was starting to warm up. With probing hands, Mark soon came to realize that he was trapped inside a cardboard packing box. Filled with what, he couldn't tell.
With this realization in hand, Mark's fear soon returned, with an intense sense of claustrophobia. Kicking and pushing his way around, eventually one foot burst out of the box. Dim light, blinding to his eyes, was visible in the torn edge. He squirmed around in the constrictive environment, attempting to escape, when the sudden sound of muffled voices forced him back in.
"...and by God, if anything in here is broken, your department's going to be-"
A cargo door opened, and the light became blinding once again.
"No, everything's intact, there's hardly even a box out of place. But I need you to appear as a witness-"
"I've got a route to run here, just 'cause you run some kid into my truck doesn't mean you get to-"
"I have to write an accident report nonetheless, something clearly bizarre has happened."
"You're not gonna make me lose this contract over this, I know my rights. You've got your report, now leave me be."
Some muted voices followed as the cargo door slammed shut, and Mark realized that he was safe. Other than the fact that he was trapped naked in the back of a semi, perfectly safe. Kicking his way back out of the box, he explored the accessible interior, carefully reading the visible labels. Slowly, a wide grin began to spread across his face.
Dozens of cases of Ritz Bits?
It was a good start.
Mark was soon back in his box, eating the small salty crackers. The foam provided some level of insulation, which would have to do for now. As he felt the truck start moving again, he began to plan out his means of survival. There was food in here, which implied that he might be able to find drinks as well. Clothes? Maybe, if he was lucky. There were a few boxes where he could relieve himself, though he didn't want to think of that at the moment.
Then there was the matter of how the hell he'd gotten from the inside of a speeding car to the back of the truck into which it had collided. Yeah, that was kind of strange. Mark decided that he would have to look into that too.
He was very cold. He was blind. He was terrified.
With great effort, he got himself to calm down, feeling his heart rate slow. How was he not dead?
The thought suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. Fighting down panic once more, Mark felt his arm. He tried to move, but felt constrained. His surroundings were filled with... something soft, but just a little rough. Just like...
"Foam peanuts?" came his incredulous voice.
The area was starting to warm up. With probing hands, Mark soon came to realize that he was trapped inside a cardboard packing box. Filled with what, he couldn't tell.
With this realization in hand, Mark's fear soon returned, with an intense sense of claustrophobia. Kicking and pushing his way around, eventually one foot burst out of the box. Dim light, blinding to his eyes, was visible in the torn edge. He squirmed around in the constrictive environment, attempting to escape, when the sudden sound of muffled voices forced him back in.
"...and by God, if anything in here is broken, your department's going to be-"
A cargo door opened, and the light became blinding once again.
"No, everything's intact, there's hardly even a box out of place. But I need you to appear as a witness-"
"I've got a route to run here, just 'cause you run some kid into my truck doesn't mean you get to-"
"I have to write an accident report nonetheless, something clearly bizarre has happened."
"You're not gonna make me lose this contract over this, I know my rights. You've got your report, now leave me be."
Some muted voices followed as the cargo door slammed shut, and Mark realized that he was safe. Other than the fact that he was trapped naked in the back of a semi, perfectly safe. Kicking his way back out of the box, he explored the accessible interior, carefully reading the visible labels. Slowly, a wide grin began to spread across his face.
Dozens of cases of Ritz Bits?
It was a good start.
Mark was soon back in his box, eating the small salty crackers. The foam provided some level of insulation, which would have to do for now. As he felt the truck start moving again, he began to plan out his means of survival. There was food in here, which implied that he might be able to find drinks as well. Clothes? Maybe, if he was lucky. There were a few boxes where he could relieve himself, though he didn't want to think of that at the moment.
Then there was the matter of how the hell he'd gotten from the inside of a speeding car to the back of the truck into which it had collided. Yeah, that was kind of strange. Mark decided that he would have to look into that too.
Megaman_zx
Dark Lord of the Sith
here's a bit more story so that there are options about what could happen next. consider this my first story and the previous one an outline of Barnabas' powers and life.
That nosey policeman had come to school and pulled him out of class for some stupid counseling session. He wasn’t mad about being embarrassed in front of his peers because frankly, he didn’t care about them, but that the officer would try to “fix” him was unbearable. The man had tried to make it up to him by buying him a doughnut, which he munched on noncommittally. Once they finally arrived the policeman parked by the entrance watching to make sure he actually saw the counselor. Oh well, might as well give this a try. He sighed and opened the door.
Although this appointment was probably way overdue, this was the first time Barnabas had been to a counselor’s office. His good luck had kept him from getting caught most of the time, and his parents wouldn’t even know what he was doing since he filled in a random mailing address when applying for the college. It was sheer luck that the rep had visited his home town and handed him the acceptance letter in person. It was also a work of his ever present luck that kept the college and his parents from realizing they weren’t contacting each other. Not that they would even understand what was wrong with him. He was a first gen mutant, and his parents were strictly anti mutant. They were furious when he got his first piercing, but after explaining some of the more exotic ways teens could express themselves, involving fringe mutant abilities, they accepted them, and blessed the fact that he wasn’t a mutant.
The counselor stared at him over the rims of his out of fashioned large reading glasses. Already judging him and drawing from his experience about treating failed suicides and dead friends. He began, “I’m sorry about your friends death, but you can trust me, and I will never let anyone outside this room know about anything you say in here.”
Yeah right. “first of all, he wasn’t my friend, second of all, you can’t help me.”
Without skipping a beat the shrink tried to find another opening, “how long have you been angry like this.”
“angry?” he could almost punch the man in the face, not that he had ever really needed to resort to physical violence.
“Okay, if not angry, then how do you feel?”
He wrote down angry on a sheet of notebook paper which he tried and failed to conceal. Barnabas tried to read the emotions which the counselor was facing and they were a strange mix between frustration, and a peace which stemmed from inflated ego. He could probably use more subtle ways to anger the counselor and break him like an oyster, but his patience had run thin, and he didn’t want to deal with this poser. So he showed him how he really felt, easing his emotions into the other man’s brain and watching as squirmed.
“you’re a….. mutant…. How….” He was grasping the side of his chair like it was suspended 100 feet in the air. Barnabas got up, and calmly left the room. That was a waste, of course so was life, back to wandering the streets.
That nosey policeman had come to school and pulled him out of class for some stupid counseling session. He wasn’t mad about being embarrassed in front of his peers because frankly, he didn’t care about them, but that the officer would try to “fix” him was unbearable. The man had tried to make it up to him by buying him a doughnut, which he munched on noncommittally. Once they finally arrived the policeman parked by the entrance watching to make sure he actually saw the counselor. Oh well, might as well give this a try. He sighed and opened the door.
Although this appointment was probably way overdue, this was the first time Barnabas had been to a counselor’s office. His good luck had kept him from getting caught most of the time, and his parents wouldn’t even know what he was doing since he filled in a random mailing address when applying for the college. It was sheer luck that the rep had visited his home town and handed him the acceptance letter in person. It was also a work of his ever present luck that kept the college and his parents from realizing they weren’t contacting each other. Not that they would even understand what was wrong with him. He was a first gen mutant, and his parents were strictly anti mutant. They were furious when he got his first piercing, but after explaining some of the more exotic ways teens could express themselves, involving fringe mutant abilities, they accepted them, and blessed the fact that he wasn’t a mutant.
The counselor stared at him over the rims of his out of fashioned large reading glasses. Already judging him and drawing from his experience about treating failed suicides and dead friends. He began, “I’m sorry about your friends death, but you can trust me, and I will never let anyone outside this room know about anything you say in here.”
Yeah right. “first of all, he wasn’t my friend, second of all, you can’t help me.”
Without skipping a beat the shrink tried to find another opening, “how long have you been angry like this.”
“angry?” he could almost punch the man in the face, not that he had ever really needed to resort to physical violence.
“Okay, if not angry, then how do you feel?”
He wrote down angry on a sheet of notebook paper which he tried and failed to conceal. Barnabas tried to read the emotions which the counselor was facing and they were a strange mix between frustration, and a peace which stemmed from inflated ego. He could probably use more subtle ways to anger the counselor and break him like an oyster, but his patience had run thin, and he didn’t want to deal with this poser. So he showed him how he really felt, easing his emotions into the other man’s brain and watching as squirmed.
“you’re a….. mutant…. How….” He was grasping the side of his chair like it was suspended 100 feet in the air. Barnabas got up, and calmly left the room. That was a waste, of course so was life, back to wandering the streets.
I don't think this game is well suited for me as a player when it comes to pacing, the level of freeform and how to weave cooperatively, but players and mod please feel free to use my organization if you want.
And the stories are great so I'll be lurking. : )
And the stories are great so I'll be lurking. : )
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