Cyber Cape: content

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Commodore Awesome
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Re: Cyber Cape: content

Post by Commodore Awesome » Mon Oct 14, 2013 4:32 pm

So... Tmb Told me to
My writing isn't nearly as good as most of yours, but ill do my best~

Character Sheet

[Name] Ragnar
[Alias/persona] The Whack Job
[Gender] Male
[Age] 22
[Height] 5'8''
[Hair] Black hair, messy unwashed hair.
[Eyes] His iris's match his sclera, all you see is a small black dot, his pupil.
[Facial description] A narrow face with thin cheek, and a smaller nose. His ears are averaged size and are tucked back closer
to his head
[Body type] Slender, from malnutrition

[Wardrobe/costume] Raggid blacklong sleeve shirt, that looks many years old with torn up jeans.

[Skills & talents] He has a talent for unintentionally throwing wrenches into peoples plans and showing up where his is not wanted.
[Powers (if applicable)] He has a unique power to create using his imagination, the restrictions to what he can create is directly attached to size, and what he can understand. He can create any object he wishes as long as it is smaller than an average truck, and only object he thoroughly understands. Such as he cannot create a gun out of thin air, unless he understands all of the inner workings of the gun. He also couldnt make another planet if he wishes as that far surpasses the size restriction. Not understanding his powers himself, he conjures up four almost ghost like creatures with his imagination that aid him in various ways. Since others don't know they exist it seems as if Ragnar has super strength, speed, regeneration, and the ability to block bullets before they come in contact. However that is truly just the spirits helping him, in the many dangerous situations he gets himself into.

[Weaknesses] He is labeled the whack job for good reason, he lost his sanity long ago, due to direct exposure from a shard of the meteorite. Without his sanity his control over his power is very restricted and only seems to use it in one form. Since the ghosts aren't actually independant, they only act when ragnar acts. They will help him seemingly have super strength or will heal him when hes hurt. It seems like bullets wont make contact with his body, however that is just a ghost acting as a shield, hitting him from two directions will kill him quite easily. Ragnar is very frail from his lack of knowledge on food, and can be killed more easily then your average person, the ghosts just make him seem strong.

[Personality traits] Insane, nothing is serious to him, he does not understand any situation he gets himself into, and does not understand the consequences of his actions. He is constantly yelling at four figures that aren't there, or at least not there to to others.
He is easily angered, and quite impatient.
His pocket watch it set to go off every hour, and when it does go off, he scatches a line into the closest wall he can find, even he doesnt know why he does this, nor does he realise it.

[Motivations] His only motivation is to retreive something he lost, a necklace imbued with energy from the meteorite that crashed down all those years ago, that has been passed down through his family. He searches desperately for it, and is highly attracted to large amounts of energy being released from people using there powers due to the necklace giving off similar energy. Meaning he has a third sense when it comes to finding people with powers he gets into many unwanted situations.

[Character bio] Ragnar lived a fairly normal life, in Midtown Metropolis he was an only child who lived in an average how with his mom. His dad was a vigilante whom he didn't see very much of. Ragnar found life very boring, the only thing that interested him, was a necklace his father always kept locked away. Under a sturdy glass display, made so that the necklace wouldn't effect anyone, and so that no one could steal it. One day, Ragnar found himself alone in the house, his father was "at work" and his mother was running errands. He found himself particularly drawn to the necklace that day, having spent his whole life admiring the necklace, he knew how to get the necklace out of the display. He took the necklace and ran away.

Ever since he first came in contact with the amulet, he had gained the powers to manipulate his surroundings, however he didn't notice at first. It would happen with small things such as finding food in the strangest of places, that he just considered luck. Before he could realize the full potential of his powers, he had already begun to lose his sanity. As the years when by more and more of himself started to slip away. No one wanted to talk to him, no one wanted to be near him, people would turn and run at the sight of him. He began to grow lonely, and that's when the ghosts came to him. Without realizing it, he created the ghosts to accompany him, in reality talking to the ghosts is the same thing as talking to himself, but he doesn't know that, nor does he care.
Last edited by Commodore Awesome on Fri Oct 18, 2013 1:34 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Cyber Cape: content

Post by Tmb » Mon Oct 14, 2013 4:35 pm

The sun was shining right down onto the poorest sector of Midtown, which was still fairly clean and mainly consisted of brick buildings. The specific area was an alleyway by the street a man with a dark grey ponytail was walking by where he noticed a man by himself with messy unkempt black hair.

“Al! Since when could you fly,” the man was screaming. Then there was a slight pause in his speech, “I want to fly too… Shut up Kaleo I can fly if I want to!”

What is he doing I thought to myself, I've seen enough crazy people around here but this guy is pretty much putting on a show, I think I will watch him for a bit.
The screaming man disappeared through a door to one of the brick apartment buildings. As quickly as he entered he was already at the top.

“Dementia I will gouge your eyes out with my seven… twelve finger… thumbs!?! Al shut up no one asked you!”

As the man jumped out of the building, “I AM THE MAGESTICISEST OF BIRDS! Shut up Al!”

He landed with a perfect belly flop appearing mainly uninjured,but he looked rather tired as he raised his hand and scratched a perfect line into wall that was right beside him.

“Well then that was interesting” I whispered to myself and kept moving.

I picked up my phone and called Paige, “My dearest, could you please move a pawn up one space, anyone will do.”

I hung up before she could respond and let out a giggle, I can tell the world is celebrating my birthday. The road curved leading into a sector where the sun was being blocked out by buildings and what looked like two gangs starting to beat each other up. I sat down and watched the show for a while. Three guys with lead pipes were ganging up on one the guys with a gun. The gunman shot three shots missed two shots and the guy with pipes beat his brains and took his gun. The side with guns were getting crushed from lack of skill and the enemy had too many numbers.

“Hey, doesn't that look like Reycom…?”

One of the guys on the losing side asked his comrade.

“Hey yeah it does!”

He shouted out hopefully

“Reycom help us out please, we really need your help. We will even join your gang if you help us!”

They were begging in unison, I guess having some better subordinates could be nice, I thought to myself. I stood up looked at the faces of everyone fighting, my head started pounding as all new information started flowing into me.

I started moving towards the winning team. I knew that they really didn't have any combat abilities they just gang up on people and use their brute strength. I will just dance circles around them! One man sensed a hostile intent coming from me and lunged and I easily jumped to the side and watched as he fell to the floor. I bent down and pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dropped it on the ground and proceeded to jump on it laughing. As a man quickly tried to assault me I pulled out my knife. He lunged at me full force but knife was sharper than his mind and he dove right on to it. I let out a maniacal laugh as these pathetic thugs tried to fight me. The losing side started to pick up momentum when all the sudden a man with fire red hair showed up. Red-hair was about three feet taller then me and three feet wider than me.

“You puny man are causing a lot of troubles!”

Red-hair grabbed one of the pipes and melted it in his hands
“While isn't that interesting your power allows to melt anything you touch, I guess I really shouldn't get near you then.”

I said quite seriously while smiling like a six year old on Christmas morning.

“You won’t be smiling very long runt!”

He jumped at me I slashed my knife at him, it got a nice gash on his hand but he then melted it.

“How rude that knife was a gift to myself,”

I put on my pouting face for a second but I couldn't keep it on and broke into a full out grin. I looked at Red-hair and could tell he was getting annoyed with me. I decided that it’s time to make Red-hair real mad,

“ You know your girlfriend really doesn't like it when you fight and your mother is very disappointed at how you've become such a low-life thug.”

“Shut up, you know nothing about me,”

Red-hairs face went pure red.

“Oh I know everything about you…”

I jumped behind him and jabbed at the back of his neck, he suffered an injury there long ago when he was child playing with his friends. It became a permanent weak spot for him, and a very easy place to attack. I smiled Red-hair was lying face first on the ground and all of the opposing gang members had left.

“Alright… Now… You… Guys… Work… For… Me!”

I sang out happily and did a little dance circling around the collapsed bodies. The men let out a moan of regret, I didn't do that much but I definitely ensured there victory. I looked around at the faces again and noted these guys were originally part of my gang. How interesting I guess everybody will eventually come back to me.
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Re: Cyber Cape: content

Post by Bone2pick » Tue Oct 15, 2013 10:05 pm

My mind wandered to dad as I deftly threaded my Suzuki through the right shoulder of the West River Bridge. I wish I could have come up with a better excuse than “A friend of mine was broke down” before I bolted out of Sidecar Station. It was all over his face, he didn’t believe me but he was too polite to ask questions. I hated keeping him in the dark with all of this, but I hated the idea of explaining everything to him even more. I guess there’s always a price to pay.

Street lights streaked by as I raced my bike into the heart of Metropolis. Exotic sports coups, black luxury sedans, and even the occasional stretch limousine cruised along the affluent roads of Midtown, the premier shopping district of the city. I weaved in and out of the traffic like a sprinting cheetah through a trotting herd of cattle. I was fearless from any threat of authority and my reckless speed reflected that. It was common knowledge that Lone Star policy was to not pursue any lone thrill rider. From their point of view it was a simple matter of economics, the chase just wasn’t worth it. The roaring throttle of my v-twin was constantly overlapped by chatter from Kirk. A single inserted earbud whispered to me crucial information like directions to Big Paul Cassamento’s house and the geographical layout of his neighborhood. Kirk had demanded to tag along via a phone link for the ride over; but between the fear of where I was heading and the focus I had to keep on the road, most of my partner’s words were lost on me.

I looked up and saw giants floating. The black sky provided a sea, and the mechanical sentries circled like swimming orca whales. Each one displayed a neon lit brand across its side, the blue letters of their creator: K.G.B., the corporation the fleet of blimps belonged to. Predatory spotlights fastened to their hull peered down onto the buildings that made up Metropolis’ skyline. The weaponized blimps had been contracted by the city years ago to protect its executive class from sophisticated dangers, but for most folks the high flying and endlessly leering machines only served to unnerve them.

Ever so slowly my perceptions shifted back down to the path before me. I had just hopped onto the bridge to Saint Martin, and at this late hour it was gloriously free from traffic. My wrist flexed and I opened the bike up to full speed. The engine screamed in ecstasy and the island I was heading towards quickly swelled inside my face shield. Down below Metropolis Bay bounced cold moonlight off its turbulent surface that perfectly echoed my emotions. There was a part of me that was certain, a part unwavering in its intention. An understanding and acceptance of what I had to do. I had to stop him. There might be others that could do that, but tonight I was the only one who would. Regrettably there was also another part of me; a creeping weakness of the mind, an attack against my resolve. It was a ghost of hopelessness and it gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. I needed to find my focus, to pull myself clear of its insidious influence. And then it came to me, like a life raft to a drowning castaway. I saw the faces of the victims of the Pure Life shooting. I heard the cries of their still mourning families. And I remembered what I’d vowed to become.

Like a heat seeking missile I shot onto the island of Saint Martin in search of my target. Kirk continued to feed me directions and then he laid out a plan of action in case we ever lost contact. It involved giving me a few minutes before phoning up Lone Star, that way I had time to search the crime scene and then make a clean getaway. Kirk predicted that if Barbarous was going to commit to war against the Cassamento compound, then he’d probably setup a localized communication scrambler; effectively making his enemy’s neighborhood a digital dead zone.

In order to save time I cut through a park. Sprinklers hissed their contents onto manicured grass and an oversized central fountain spouted up an artistic display of cascading water. I slid the Suzuki through a gauntlet of picnic tables and then plowed through a waist high hedge which spilled me back onto the street. A majestic archway was now in sight, and above it was scrawled the inscription Bishop Point; the high-priced community of Paul Cassamento. The security booth out front of the gated neighborhood was surprisingly unlit. As I passed by its gloomy structure I slowed my bike to a crawl. I saw its lights had been shot out. I saw the guard’s body lying on the floor. Tragic proof that he had come.

I was just about to confirm it all to Kirk when our connection dropped. And just as expected, when I checked my phone it showed its signal was completely corrupted. I sighed and kicked my bike into gear as I continued up the path. It took less than a minute for the outlines of trucks to emerge into view. Parked transport vehicles were lined up just outside the open front gate of a multistoried mansion, the home of Big Paul Cassamento. But the detail that really grabbed my attention was the home’s missing front door.
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