Twins of Fate - My first RP!

[Therin]

Ok, people, this is going to be very very different from the other RPs out there, in that it is not going to take place in the normal realm of PO. The upshot of this is that there are rules to character creation. The upshot of that is that if you want to join, you will be required to create a new character specifically for the purpose of this RP. That character will have limitations imposed on his/her abilities. The biggie is that Magic is extremely rare. It takes the form of mutants, who have an extremely narrow-sighted ability. For example, your character will not be able to manipulate earth in all ways possible. He may be able to create underground vibrations, but that will be all. Also, I would like to have only a couple (2 or 3) mutants. Everyone else is just going to be normal people. Cybernetic enhancements are accepted as long as they aren't too extreme (You won't have a full body suit and wings, but you might have cybernetic sight enhancements) But above all else, everything aside from mutation must have a good reason that follows the rules of this world. I have chosen some people out to play a part in this, and you all know who you are, but if anyone else would like to join in, PM me with a story for your character and I'll look it over and choose whether or not to accept you or not. I don't mean to be a dictator like this, but I can't handle large numbers of members and I want this to be a very legitimate RP. That having been said, I give you the beginning.



[edit] Chapter 1: Beginnings. [/edit]

The bully, poised, fist raised, preparing to strike the cowering form in front of him. The fist descends. The world goes white.

The outskirts of town. A few buildings left standing, the rest…obliterated. Closer. Not a living thing moves. Stout timbers and light posts broken and tossed like so much kindling, radiating outward. Closer. The timbers and signposts are interspersed and mingled with blood now, and gore. Closer. A former school lot. More blood than building materials now, bones and pulped flesh distinguishable from the overall mess. Closer. The epicenter. A ring of clean white turf, blasted flat, like a desert wasteland. A lone figure, cowering and shaking in mute terror and shock as a low rumble finally reverberates back from the far off mountains.


300 miles away in another town…


Similar situation, slightly different. A poised bully, smiling as he prepares to beat the lunch money out of his quiet and unassuming prey. The foot zooms in. The world goes black.

The outskirts of the town. A single car shrieks out along an exit road. Closer. Not a living thing moves, houses lie dormant, interspersed with the occasional bruised and battered body, usually accompanied by sprays of blood on the street or the sidewalk. Closer. The bodies are more frequent, the deaths apparently more brutal, smashed skulls and twisted limbs, more blood. Closer. An empty school. Bodies are lining the sidewalks and streets now, violent orgasms of brain and inner tissue. Froth can be seen where mouths once were. Closer. The epicenter. Bodies litter the halls with barely space to walk between, a few feebly twitching the last of their lives away. The gymnasium is packed full, bodies lying piled on and entangled with each other, except for a ring of empty floor. In the center stands a lone figure, watching as the last standing man mindlessly bashes various bodies around the gym. The man's mouth is ringed and dripping with white saliva and his eyes are blank, his movements jerky and automatic, those of a mindless robot. The boy smiles.


10 years later…

The guard lets out a cry, cut off and overridden as the double doors of the entrance are blasted inward, across the room by a crackling wall of solid, concentrated sound. A lone figure walks in afterward at a leisurely pace. The guard pulls his pistol and lets off three shots but the bullets are reflected and blasted back at the guard on the impetus of another, smaller blast of noise. The guard hits the wall and slumps, unconscious, to the ground. Three bullet holes perforate the wall above the fallen guard. The lone man continues walking.

The top floor…

A ring of guards wait in silence, guns trained on the only door in the room. A large man sits behind his desk, fingers steepled before his large, wide-mouthed face. The guards are edgy. Guns begin to shake as the silence prolongs itself. The vent in the ceiling begins to shudder, ever so slightly, unnoticed by the guards or the large man behind his desk. Suddenly and silently, the grate falls through the air. The man yells a warning. The guards whip around at the clatter of grate hitting floor. The door opens. The guards are blasted inward against various walls and pieces of furniture. The lone man dashes in the wake of his blast, jumping up over the desk and onto the large man behind the desk. The chair topples. A shatter of glass rings out over the street and citizens run every which way as shards begin to pepper them from the sky overhead. A large figure dangles over the precipice, his collar in the grip of a tall, thinner figure.
"Who is Kholba? Who is he!?"
"I-I don't know! Honest! Please don't kill me; I'm just a simple businessman! Please!"
"Kholba ordered you to kill me. Why!?"
"I don't know!"
"Who does?"
"I…try Lander."
"Where?"
"In the Gold Entendre club. You'll need a pass."
"I'll take yours."
"Ok! I told you what you wanted to know! Let me go now!"
"If it's not true, I'm coming back. You don't want me to do this again do you?"
"It's true! I give you my word!"
"Dirty lying scumbag like you? Your word's not worth the dirt on my shoes."
A pivot and a sharp crack. The large man fetches up against the wall near the door, unconscious.



This is the beginning. I will wait a couple days for everyone who wants to join to PM me and post, and then I will continue. If you have any questions or are confused about the story or anything, PM me.

[Aiman]

OOC: Im very glad to be asked to join this RP. Lews thought I had writting skills and Ill try my best to make this a great story. If he belives in me, then I will give my 110%. After talking to Lews, I brainstormed for couple of hours and came up with this story. I hope you like it. This is my character, Jason "Knight" Boyd, and this is his story...


"Wake up Jason. Wake up, please." A young girl says.

The eyes of the young boy open up.

10 years ago, when some people's worlds were becoming dark or white, some others just opened their eyes to see the light of the world. The world is not all dark or white, nor life is pink like some people think and say...

"What is it Shein ? What time is it ?" Jason said.
"Its 8am sleepy head. Come on wake up..." The girl said as he helped Jason stand up from his bed. "I brought you breakfast. And... I must tell you... Mom and dad are very angry about yesterday. Why did you fight again Jas ?? Why ?? There was no reason for that. And you know what dad said about your fighting in school !!"

"Im so sorry, Shein." Jason replied as he looked down. "He spilled his soda on my shirt on purpose. He never liked me and he was just messing with me." Jason sighs. "Shit. Because of him I got expelled from school and now mom and dad know about it. But, how they found out ?"

"A teacher called yesterday to the house." Said Shein, caressing Jason's hair.

Both parents stormed into Jason's room. The father yelled at Jason for getting expelled. Shein yelled and cried. Jason's father ended up saying, "You are out of this house and I dont want to see you again in here !!" He grabbed Jason and pushed him out the door....

"Wake up Jason. Come on sleepy head, wake up..." A young girl said.

"Shein, is that you ??" Jason openned his eyes and yawned. "Ho...how did you find me ?"

"I asked to one of your buddies. Why do you stay here ? This is a dump...!!" Shein said to Jason in dispair.

"Well, where do you want me to stay ?? Dad kicked me out of the house, I have no money, no job... for crying out loud, Im only 14 years old !!" Jason answered. "Though, I heard there was this people... some kind of gang. They called themselves the Dark Faction. I heard they are looking for good fighters. I think I may be of help to them, eh... hahaha, wink wink !!"

"Jason, not more trouble, please. Look, here, I brought you some breakfast. I sneaked it out from the house went I left for school, which reminds me... IM LATE !! Gotta go Jas... Please, stay out of trouble... do it for me ?" Shein said to him.

Jason sighs. "Ok little sister, Ill try, but remember I gotta survive out here no matter what. Life aint pretty out here."

After Shein left running for school, Jason ate his food and set out to find this Dark Faction. The word in the street was that this gang was after some creeps who hurt old people and make them pay illegal taxes for so called "protection". They needed new members to help them fight this people, and though Jason was young, he was determined to join in. After all, he needed a place to stay, food and people who took at least a little care of him.

Jason found someone related to the gang, and they rapidly tested him. He got in with ease and started doing jobs for them.

He met his sister Shein everyday in that dump where she found him that day. She would bring him food in the morning and at night.

Years had passed...

The Faction was known as the modern Robin Hoods. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor kinda thing. In 5 short years, Jason was one of the most respected members in there. And he was only 19 years old. Since he would do anything to protect his sister, his fellow members jokingly started calling him "Shein's Knight", which he adopted to himself as Knight.

In one of his last raids, he found a Samurai sword. A demon was carved on the blade. The sheath was as black as the night with silver fire carved. He trained hard to learn how to use it and mastered it.

Two years had passed...

A new face and name was the talk on the street of this city. A guy named Lander. He owned some clubs downtown. But everything was just a mask to his real evil. He owned most of the neighborhoods. He sent guys to rob defenseless people and hurt them. He forced them to pay great quantities of money for the so called "protection". Of course... The Dark Faction was on his trail... And so, it happened... Tragedy...

The Faction had located one of Lander's warehouses. They scouted the place and it was filled with stolen goods from locals shops. The Faction moved in...

"So, this is it, eh...? I thought it was something bigger, but I guess this is one of the smallest. What do you think Jason ?"

"I dunno... I have a bad feeling about this. There's no security. Either they are smart, or stupid..." Jason replied.

The young man that was Jason stood up. The Knight, wearing black leather pants, a black t-shirt and long trench coat looked at his surroundings. Grabbing his sword, hidden under the coat, he walked one step to the side. As he put his foot down, huge lights shined bright.

"Dammit, run, its an ambush !!!"

Everyone split and ran their own way. Jason ran to a dead end. Two guys in motorcycles trapped him against the wall. As they closed in, Jason jumped, taking out his sword and cutting one of the guys head. He landed on both his feet and threw his sword to the other guy piercing him on his back. He ran and grabbed the black cycle he was riding on and took his sword back. Jason rode that bike as fast as he could. He thought he lost them, but one was chasing him silently.

Jason went straight to his secret meeting place. He encountered his lovely sister, now 18 years old. They talked for hours, and Jason told her what had happened. He asked her to please be careful and if anything happened, to contact him as soon as possible.

Three days had past since his last meeting with Shein. He knew something was wrong. He felt that same feeling he felt the day of the ambush. He rushed to the meeting place. As he entered the door, he saw a note on the wall.

"We have your darling Shein... If you want her back, look for me. -Lander"

Jason ripped the note out of the wall. He screamed as loud as he could. And then everything turned black.

Jason opened his eyes. He saw his dear sister hanging from the ceiling unconcious. She was tied from her wrists to a big rope. Jason was tied to a chair, unable to move.

"So, you are the famous Knight, eh?" A voice said from a shadow. The person stepped foward revealing himself. He grabbed Shein by her hair and smacked her until she woke up. She was weak...

"Dont you hurt her, you creep." Jason yelled.

Lander took out a gun and shot her in the back of his head. Blood came dripping down. Jason was shocked. He couldnt belive his eyes. The person he loved most in the whole world was... dead... Tears came down from his eyes, caressing his cheeks like drops of rain. Lander pointed the gun to Jason and shot him on his chest. Jason fell backwards and everything went black once again.

Three years later...

A black cycle parks in front of the Gold Entendre club. A man wearing a long black trench coat dismounts. He enters the club. He asks for a beer at the bar. He grabs it and walks to the corner table and sits there.

"Who is that guy?" Can be heard around the club. Someone answers, "They call him Knight. Noone knows who he is. Rarely his face is shown since he's always in dark places and his long hair covers his eyes most of the time. Plus he always has shades. They say he carries a sword, but noone knows if its true..."

The mystery guy surveys the club while sitting in the corner table.

Another person hears the story about him and says, "If he really is the Knight, what is he doing here...??"

[Sperrit]

Light shown in the vacant lot, coming in a bright slant over the tall buildings. The light hit rows of plants growing in neat rows in the rich, dark soil. The light spread all across the lot until it hit a pile of rags at the far end. The moment the light hits it it starts to move, to shake. Suddenly a figure stands up from the rags, the shabby pieces of cloth falling off of it, revealing a strange figure. A young man, around twenty years of age with long dark hair wearing a tattered hawaiian shirt and wore cargo pants. The light reflecting off of him reveals a fit form, used to exercise and heavy use. He stretches and walks along the rows of plants, checking each one and watering them from a large barrel using a broken plastic jug. He smiles as he views their growing. Suddenly his smile fades and he looks towards the small alley that is the only entrance into the lot. He clentches his hands into fists as a large burly man enters.
"So this is the place... not much to look at, but realestate is worth a lot these days." He looks at the young man. "And you must be the guy that's been annoying the guys so much." He laughes. "I can't imagine why, though. You look like a good breeze could knock you over!"
The burly man walks over to the young man, his careless feet missing the plants by millimeters. But with his fifth step a toe crushes one of the prescious leaves.
The burly man wasn't sure how he ended up on the other side of the lot, but he did know it had something to do with the emense pain in his chest and stomache. He sits up, groaning, to see the young man standing above him. The young man picks him up under the arm and throws him out of the lot. The burly man crawls away.
The young man nods and goes over to the water barrel, splashing the few remaining handfuls on his face and arms. He looks into the barrel.
"Dang it. Running low."
The young man walks out of the vacant lot and out into the alley and onto the dirty city streets, carrying the barrel on his back. He passes through many dark alleys filled with scurrying shadows, all of them running away. They had all seen him before. They knew what he could do.
Soon the young man came to his destination: A faucet sticking out of a building wall. The young man sticks the barrel under the faucet and turns it on, counting seconds.
At precisly seven seconds the door to the building, only a few feet away, bursts open and an old man sticks his head out, his gaze whipping around to the faucet, a curse poised on his lips. Seeing the young man, however, the curse turns to a smile and he hobbles down the steps and next to the young man's side. The young man smiles at him.
"Hello, Jural," the youg man says.
"Hello Sperrit," the old man answers. "Been a long time since we had rain."
The young man nods. "True. I'm sorry that I have to take your water, Jural, but...."
The old man nods, still smiling. "I know, Sperrit. The plants need water, and the plants are your life. I understand. How are the roses coming, by the way?"
The young man smiles. "They're doing fine. Good strong plants, roses. They can take a lot. You'll come by to see them when they bloom, right?"
The old man grins. "You know I wouldn't miss it for the world. There's no life in this desolate city. You, my friend, are the only one that values life."
The young man bows his head, casting his eyes into shadow.
The old man, seeing the young man's reaction, shakes his head, frowning. "One day you will tell me where you come from, boy, and why you stay here instead of getting out of this hell hole."
The young man nods once. "Jural... you're a great man, and a good man. I wouldn't want to ruin that."
The young man hefts the full water barrel by two leather straps onto his back, seeming to lift it just as easily as it was empty. He nods to the old man. "Thank you, Jural. I promise you the best rose from my garden."
The old man sighs and walks back into the building, shaking his head the whole time.
The young man walks back through the allies, the shadows flying before him. He steps back into his small patch of sun and life and places the barrel in the corner again. He walks among the plants, checking them and, on his last round, seeing a small piece of paper lying on the ground. The young man picks it up and reads it, his eyes flashing over it quickly. He crumples it up and throws it away, going over to the corner where his blankets are. He rumages through them, finally standing back up with a pair of steel knuckles on his fists. He walks out of the vacant lot.
The square of light reaches the crumpled note, showing one sentance:
"You can't hide forever."

[Musashi]

Present-time...

A pale men in a dark trenchcoat stalks through the alleyways at night, the cold steal of a silenced bolt action sniper rifle clutched in his fist. Rain pours down in the night, running down off the brim his black cowboy hat that masked his face in darkness. However, though the weather and the darkness hindered most, his vision was unobstructed. Looking through the man's eyes, one would see quite clearly through cybernetic eye implants, instilling the user with automated night vision, telescopic vision, and identity scanning. The man hears footsteps and raises his hand upward. A small grappling hook juts from beneath his sleeve and pierces silently into the balcony above him. Flicking his wrist, he climbs silently, then pushes off the wall, flipping himself onto the balcony of the vacant apartment some ten stories above the alleyway. Ducking down, unseen, he sees two men round the corner entering the alley. Looking through his cybernetic eyes, his gaze zooms in close to the two men. Telescopic vision could turn even a common gunman into a master sniper, but this was no common gunman. Scanning them provided access to a database of personal file, giving the assassin all current known information about each of the two men.

"Have you brought my fee," spoke the first man.

"O..O...Of course" the second man stuttered, handing the first a black briefcase.

"Good, and your payment." The first man produces a stack of bills, faning them in front of the second man, all of them 100 notes. The two parted to go their separate ways. No sooner had the fearful man made two steps but he fell to the ground, quite dead, a bullet embedded at the base of his skull. The pale assassin slides the sniper rifle back in the cloth loop inside his trenchcoat and drops silently from the balcony, in front of the dark man with the briefcase.

The man with the briefcase leans down and picks the stack of bills out of the dead man's grip, handing it to the assassin. "You do good work Seraphim, you've earned your pay and then some. Thank you."

The pale man accepts the stack of bills. He nods and the dark man turns to walk away, his precious briefcase stashed protectively beneath his arm. As soon as he does, the assassin draws a silenced pistol from one of the holsters beneath his trenchcoat, leveling it at the back of the man's head, and pulls the trigger at point blank. The man lands dead with a splash in the alleyway.

"No, thank you, my employer will be quite pleased," as he picks up the briefcase and disappears into the night.

Killing...murder...assassination...it was just a day's work. A way to ensure his survival from day to day, a hired gunman, a mercenary. No remorse, no alliances, had always been his rule of thumb. Seth Espar, the unseen assassin, the angel of death, the Seraphim. A man who's life was about to get much more complicated, who's past would soon catch up with him.

[Shurikane]

The bar was already alive with music and full of people when Edward made his way in. A quick flash of his ID card and the bouncer let him in without a word.

His seat, right next to the head bartender's spot, was empty. He stopped, put his pair of Ray-Bans in a case attached to his belt, and then sat down.

"Circuitboard. Double!" He ordered.

The bartender turned around and put a glass of fizzy golden liquid on the counter. "What's new?"

Edward shrugged. "Shutting down websites, stealing profits, giving my own brand of justice to pedophilia owners; the usual. I can't believe I actually like my job, even though it pays grands."

"Weird, you say that every damn time you come here."

"That's my boot-up message."

"You gotta get a life, man."

Edward laughed.

"Don't you feel warm?" The bartender said, while looking at the hacker's black and crimson ski coat, which he still had on. Edward didn't respond just yet and simply downed his drink, immediately asking for another.

At length, the bartender just put the conversation to a close. Eddie was probably one of his best clients, that didn't make him any less boring...

...And that grin! Eddie always grinned, even if he knew he had a huge piece of parsley stuck between his two front teeth. And he always had that nasty habit of chewing on some imaginary gum. Eddie was wierd. That was expectable from trance music lovers and computer addicts, but still, there were limits.

The hacker finished his drinking spree by slamming a one hundred dollar bill on the counter and leaving, his originally proud posture now a bit hunched, his steps going one way then another. Eddie felt glad he didn't need to drive to the bar. It's harder to get an accident on foot than in a car.

After a while, he managed to get back to his apartment, a one-and-half, and took quite a few minutes to find the right key.

He had left the light on... No big deal, he could handle a few dollars of electricity bills. To his left was the kitchen and dining table. Centerstage was the door to the bathroom and a single-size bed. To the right, almost completely covering the walls and the window, was a huge desk-cabinet combo, with four computers and two laptops ready to work. The rest of the space was occupied by a phone, some sheets of paper, a pizza box, and several instruction manuals. There was barely any space left for the keyboards.

Eddie threw his coat on the bed, kicked his construction boots aside, and sat down at his huge workplace. He hadn't even plugged his cable yet (he disconnected from the net when away, by security) when the phone rang.

"Yo?"

"Eddie?"

"I'm yer man." Eddie answered.

"I know of your reputation and I've got a big job for you."

"At one condition: how did you find out my phone number?"

"You could really care less about what I used to contact you. Point is, I need you and your computer over at the Raptors Club."

"One more condition: give me thirty minutes to sober up."

"That, I can give you. But please get here quick. That's a really important job I'm giving you here."

"Can I know what I'll have to do?"

"No, at least not yet. You don't trust me?"

"I don't even know your frickin' name, waddya expect?"

"Come to the Raptors Club and you'll know my name, my looks, your job, even my sexual fantasies if you wanna. All I want right now is you to be in front of me! Capice?"

Eddie hung up without answering.

"Son of a bitch..." He muttered as he went to grab his coat and boots once again. He was ready to get out right away but he felt a weight was missing from his coat. Looking inside, he found the reason.

He went back to his computer compound, opened a drawer and took out an enlarged one-handed T-shaped machine gun. At least he'd have a chance if the whole thing was yet another attempt to catch him. And while he was at it, he remembered to shut down his cheapest laptop available, and packed it into a padded bag. Now he was fully ready.

He put his Ray-Bans back on. He went out of the building, and into the parking area rigth next to it. His slight drunkedness didn't make the spotting job easy, but he finally managed to find his car: an old faded blue compact. He thre the laptop case on the passenger seat, re-arranged his coat which was buttoned only in the middle, and started her up. Reaching into the glovebox, he pulled out a small bottle of Tic-Tacs and sent half-a-dozen of them into his mouth.

Raptors Club, he thought. Why can't job givers at least give me the curtesy of meeting somewhere that's not at the other end of the freakin' city?!

[Therin]

OOC: Ok. Those of you who are still working up a character/story to post, you can still join in, but I'm gonna go ahead and post myself to get things moving. Tobias, You're welcome to post now.



Neon lights, glaring and vacillating between various states of nudity. A gaudy, flashing sign underneath, reading "The Gold Entendre, adult entertainment of the highest order."
The silence gathers. The doors burst inward. Guards whirl and dash forward, clubs upraised, but the street is empty. Mystified eyes peer outward. A roar. Five forms slam into the wall across the street. A trenchcoated figure, outlined by the light from inside.

The bartender looks up. A man in a brown duster, eyes flashing.
"Where's Lander?"
"I don't know who you're talking about."
Seconds pass. The ceiling. Dripping sounds from broken bottles of alcohol. The bar rises on the right, the rear on the left. A man in a duster, anger glinting in brown eyes. A foot presses into a warm neck.
"I'm not in the mood to play. Where's Lander?"

[Tobias]

The room was filled with dark marble. On the north wall, there layed a huge wall screen. In front of the wall screen, and facing the south wall, was a large desk, and a person sitting calmly, facing the screen. Guards blocked the only door way.

There were no windows. Kholba disliked windows. In fact, he disliked the day as a whole. It was the night that intreagued him, where all of the evil laid. He faced the wall screen, and on the wallscreen, was a man, about 5' 6", who had on a normal suit, nothing special about it. He appeared to be cool to Kholba. "...now then lander, i trust that you will be ready?"

"Yes sir, im prepared for the worst sir."

Just then, in the background of lander's world, a large clatter could be heard. He then smiles back at Kholba. Kholba replies:

"So he has arrived. I want you to give him a proper welcome lander...he deserves it." He then smiles, and turns around, and turns off the wall screen. Kholba started to laugh to himself, which eventually turned into a large laugh. A sinister, and evil laugh. He stopped and muttered under his breath:

"Welcome to the real...Mr. Brigs."

[Sperrit]

Sperrit walked over to Jural's building, knocking on the door in a strange rhythm. The traditional seven seconds passed and then Jural's face through the door frame. He grinned and winked. "I knew you couldn't stay away, Sper! Come on in, I've got some fresh bread."
Sperrit put his hand on Jural's shoulder as he turned to go. His eyes were dark. "Jural, please. I'm sorry that I must ask another favor so soon, but I need someone to watch the garden..." Sperrit paused, "while I'm gone."
Jural's face lost it's jovial grin and was replaced by a determined nod. "You know that you can trust me, Sper."
Sperrit smiled and bowed. "Thank you, master."
Jural waved dismissingly at him. "I told you to stop calling me that ages ago. Don't go back on me now...." Jural turned on the last step, his face serious. "Just promise me, Sper, that if you can, you will return here and keep this place alive."
Sperrit bowed. "I promise."
Jural nodded once and then walked off into the dark alley, the shadows fleeing before him as they had for Sperrit. They knew what he could do better than they knew what Sperrit could do.
Sperrit watched the old man fade into the shadows. He then turned and closed the door, locking it with a small click.

[Therin]

"Now, now, mister Brigs, leave my workers alone, please."
A brown trenchcoat flares. Brown eyes flash.
"Lander."
"The same."
"Who is Kholba?"
"Again, I feel I must restrain you, mister Brigs. I would not want to upset my customers." A pivot, and an open door. "This way, please."

[Aiman]

The man known as Jason "Knight" Boyd looks at all the conmotion from his seat in the table corner. He stands quietly. He waits for this "Brigs" to make a move, to see if he goes inside the door or not. He stands besides his seat leaning against the wall waitting.