FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
(I know nothing of Russia.) Trace + 19 1/2
Super Human Bio:
Name: Diana Phillips
A.G.E.: 26
Gender: Female
Occupation: Traitor
Occupation: Director of the American Institute, Head Director of All Institutes
Appearance: Tall, pale as milk with a farmer's tan on her arms, legs, and face, slight Asian/Russian mix, scars along back. Wears her black hair untied, hair goes to waist, usually wears a prim - yet - relaxed business suit when working, when off duty wears just about anything she feels like. Has sea green eyes and pearly white teeth, always smiles.
Personality: Mischievous, greedy, compassionate, devious, and maybe even crazier than Trace.
Powers: ???
Bio: Born and raised in Russia to Wulphrig and Helgina Draitos, Diana has lived a hard life. Her mother died in childbirth, leaving her with her abusive father, who put her out on the streets as a hookah on her sixth birthday. For the next 18 years, Diana lived and worked as a hookah, becoming one of the best known in the Trade. When she was 24 and 1/2, she met 19 and 1/2 year O.L.D. Trace Drake, who was on a mission with Thomas Phist to find a dangerous super - human known by the alias "Blue Rocket". Trace, upon finding a young woman selling her services on the street to a surly thug, proceeded to rip the thug's intestines out through the thug's nose. Trace then frequently took Diana out on "Adventures" through Moscow, where they pulled pranks on people (Especially Phist) and ate many, many pastries. Before leaving for American after capturing the Blue Rocket, Trace did something very unexpected; he asked Diana to marry him. Diana, overjoyed, agreed immediately. One year after getting engaged, however, Diana broke off the engagement, after revealing a secret she had kept from Trace, who she did genuinely love. Trace, having used his influence to rocket Diana through S.I.C. ranks, continued to protect and aid her fervently. She is now married to Daisy Phillips, Trace's former assistant. She is immensely protective and proud of Trace, whom she still retains a warm friendship with. She is aware that she is a super, yet has never revealed this to anybody, not even Trace.
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
AwesomeGreek,
ACCEPTED WITH A CRUMB! |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
(OOC: The Trace + 19 1/2 thing was a note I made so I wouldn't forget how the 2 of them tied together in the timeline . . . . I 4got to delete it . . . .) |
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(Y-y-you..liked my bio? *Quick bow* Thank you sir!) |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
(Who wants to start this rp? Almost up to a million chipmunks.) |
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(I've wanted to start this for, like.. over a few hours. That's, like, THREE DAYS in Skylar time!) |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
(Here we go!)
Trace:
Looking around the lobby of the Institute, he can't help but smile and think, "What morons! They don't even know what's going on!" He continues to chuckle beneath his mask as tourists and employees shuffle to get out of his way, disturbed by his unique outfit and unsettling mask. He stands at the doorway of the elevator and waits for it to be empty. This does not take ong; no-onw wants to be near that . . . . thing in the mask. |
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I squirm in the iron grip of guards as I'm dragged to.. whereever I am, my black mass of curls falling into my face. Unsure of where I am, I look around as best I can, wishing I could clear my vision. The area around me is unfamiliar, and the guards aren't being exactly gentle. My near-black eyes are wide with what's obviously fear and confusion. |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
Trace:
He enters the elevator and, looking up at the camera in the corner and flipping it the bird, uses a key to unlock a pannel below the floor buttons. Fliping the door open, Trace types in a series of randomized code into a computer and, with a snap of his fingers, sets the elevator in motion.
He goes past several layers of basement floor, each level designed to look like any other prison complex. This, of coarse, is a farce; all the "convicts" on these levels are Trace's employees, Traitors and Humans alike making a big show for the media and tour groups. Just like every other Institute out there.
When the elevator finally stops with a *ding*, Trace impatiantly whacks the doors until they open, revealing a uniformed guard with a bottle of wheeskey and a Jar of pills, carefully filled with Trace's daily medications. Trace swiftly swalows the jar's contents, then chases it down with the bottle of "the manliest stuff on earth." |
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I try to ask what's going on or where I am, only to be 'shush'ed violently. Upon trying again, I'm back-handed.. only for the guards hand to hit a face as hard as stone, basically the equilevent to hitting a rock. 'Rude', I can't help but think, and again glance around. Obviously, I will not be getting any answers. I'm being mostly dragged over to a cell, which sends a spike of terror through me. I'm a bit claustrophobic. 'But.. I did nothing wrong'.. In my minds eye, I see me changing the colour of my shirt this morning at will, and many other things I've done that normal humans can't do.
Oh. Maybe it's that. |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
Trace:
"Report."
The guard looks down at a notepad he carried with him and, taking a deep breath, rattles off the morning report.
"We have a new Inmate just arriving, set for Level Two clearance without supervision."
Aha. So it's a super that can enhance the world around itself, but not very well. Well, not well enough to require constant recording and supervision, that is.
"What's the details, bro! I need me some details!" Trace almost shouts, the morning dose of uppers starting to kick in.
"Cadenza Pacheco, 17, Female. Can manipulate an objects color, texture, pattern, density, and weight. Total span of powers not indentified."
"Is it through touch or through mental concentration?"
"Both, sir."
Nuts. If she gets too strong she'll have to be sent down to the Lowest Level. He shudders; not even Trace totally aproves of what happen's on the Phycic Level. And Trace is the one who designed it! |
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Fritter, Justin Fritter
I sit calmly in my cell reviewing my year of containment. It wasn't all that bad. Considering what I've done I have it easy. I think. Then it hits me. Mom. She's probably ruined. Des- Who am I kidding? I'm a despicable destructive human being. 'Never change Justin, I will always love you.' Well I did change. Did I? Could she- "OH CONFOUND THIS!" I Scream rather akwardly. |
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As expected, I'm shove in the cell, the clang of the door closing behind me sets my heart racing. I scramble up, turning, my heart somehow sinking more when I see I'm all ready trapped. This happened way too fast. I stand there uncomprehendingly for a few moments, panic threatening. I eventually thaw, looking around the cell. I slowly sit down on the small bed, staring into space. Things race through my mind, such as, 'where's my father? Will he be okay? What will I do? What's going on?!' and, oddly, 'OH GAWD I THINK I LEFT THE OVEN ON'. |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
Trace:
"Well, see to it she gets a dose of Dum-Dums to slow her thinking down and maybe a shot of that Numbing Solution, make it herder for her to grab stuff. Does she have a record?"
"No, sir. No prior offenses."
"Well, let her eat in the caffeteria on time, then. I think we're having Stew of Tom, I caught the bugger sending info to the Resistance."
Yes, it was fun dealing with Tommy, and it will be more fun eating a bit of his shinbones with the stew.
"And isn't it Burger day for the cell-monkeys?"
"Yes, sir." |
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dechesJoin Date: 2008-08-31
Post Count: 116 |
Super Human Bio:
Name: Brian Mull
A.G.E.: 19
Gender:Male
Occupation: Inmate
Appearance: Prison Uniform, he has a few scars on his forehead and pale blue eyes that look into your soul.
Personality: Serious , quiet and on the verge of insanity.
Powers: Shapeshifting,can turn into any animal he wants.
Bio: Brian was born on a farm in Britain where when he was beaten by his father his rage caused him to turn into a leopard,kill his dad and run away, and only a week ago he was brought into the prison after admitting to killing a few teenagers. |
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By the time anyone has come to check on me or whatever, I'm all ready starting to panic. That didn't take long at all. The bed sheet, once blank, is now a random rainbow of explosive colour, making it look like it was dyed or something. But it obviously wasn't. I hardly even recal doing that to it, but.. apparently I did. |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
Trace:
I hear a shout coming down the hall; the mask neither cuts off my hearing nor my speaking.
"What in the shats of Shelilah is that racket?"
"Probably that moonbeam kid, sir. He's been a bit nervous lately."
"Well, have you been dosing him regularly?"
"No, sir. He's been pretty docile. We're even thinking of giving him a pet. A mouse, or something similar."
"Well, give him a buiscut or something. Can't have prisoners freaking out, that's MY job!" |
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I stare at thee blanket, then say aloud, "I didn't do it!" As though that would help me. |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
(deches, ACCEPTED!)
A guard, stepping up to Pacheo's cell with a tray of food, scowls and calls for another guard, who makes note of the use of her powers. The guard opens the cell door and set the tray onto a table bolted onto the floor.
"Eat up. Since yer new, thought we'd give you a brake."
It's a slice of vanilla cake without frosting and a glass of vanilla milkshake, both of which are actually drugged. The cake has the Dum-Dum pills and the shake has the Numbing Solution. |
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I'm surprised I'm given food, and sure me accidentally making things colourful and cheery is a no-no. The bed changes back into it's drab form, as I nod, looking somewhat sheepish With an awkward, "Erm. Thanks." |
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FoulfangsJoin Date: 2009-02-09
Post Count: 400 |
A guard comes and tosses a buiscut to Justin, telling him to stop his hollering. The buiscut is not drugged, although there is honey on it. |
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Justin
I shivered. I probably looked really stupid. I rather not have to...be sedated again. Calm. Calm. You are here now. Nothing else matters. Mom is...far away. Safe from me. Control. Lets do some practice. I notice the swiveling security camera. "Lets make that go a wee bit faster. Not to fast. Just, a little bit." I talked calmly to my self, concentrating. |
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Figuring I should eat- though, my stomahc is all ready full of butterflies- I take a small bite of the cake, while mentally scolding myself, AND still trying to figure what's going on here. As usual, busy, busy me.. |
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dechesJoin Date: 2008-08-31
Post Count: 116 |
(Thanks)
I sit on my bed in my cell just sitting there,clutching my knees to my chest and rocking back an forth.Im gonna go crazy in here. |
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