Dallas is a bustling metroplex set in the state of Texas. It has also been the site of a new surge in Meta Human activity. With lenient gun laws and a population ready to take the laws into their own hands, however, the mixture of Meta Humans to the cities population has begun to stir up a very volatile mixture.
Recently a new research firm, M.E.T.A.L. Inc, has set up its headquarters and primary research facility in Dallas. The company is privately owned and is a leading developer in new technology, especially those centered around metallurgic development and the creation of new alloys with very special properties. The lab is heavily guarded and very secretive, leading some to fear what secrets might truly be held on the inside.
Jordan walked through the neatly kempt Dallas suburb. The grass along the sidewalk was all freshly cut and the houses, though a little bit older, were all well cared for. He felt out of place, trudging along in the Texas summer heat in a ragged and oversized hoodie to conceal his face, but his desire for some kind of anonymity won out against his desire to be comfortable. Just a quick visit, he told himself as he took a couple deep breaths. I’m going to check in with the Millers and put to rest any doubts from Rhonda and then get the hell out.
Jordan walked up to the one story ranchero style home. The beige brick facade, single car garage, wooden porch, and intricately cared for garden were just as he remembered them from 6 years earlier. This place had been more of a home to him than any other and that made him ache. If only he had been placed in a home this good from the beginning maybe he would have actually stood half a chance after being released from the system. If he had been placed with the Millers as a child, maybe they would have adopted him as their own son due to their inability to have children of their own. Maybe if…Jordan halted the train of thought that had been tearing at him since he had left. The Millers had tried to keep up with him as he left and moved on, sending him letters and holiday cards and invitations to dinner. Jordan had ignored them all and the pain that he felt standing on their doorstep at the thought of what life might have been like had been the reason. “Just a quick visit,” he reminded himself out loud as he rang their doorbell.
Nothing happened. He couldn’t hear any footsteps or see any blinds moving from someone checking to see who the visitor was. The old beat up Chevy truck, the family’s only car since forever, was parked in its normal spot in the driveway indicating someone was home. Jordan raised his hand to knock again when the latch clicked and the door began to open. Melody Miller, twice Jordan’s age and matronly looking came to the door. She wore a simple summer dress in some kind of floral print and an apron. She was plump from years of a loving marriage and home cooked meals and her golden amber curls were just starting to fade to grey.
“Can I help you?” Melody asked Jordan.
Jordan quirked an eyebrow in return. “It’s me Mrs. Miller, Jordan.”
The two stood on the porch surrounded by an awkward silence that was punctuated by a gaze from Melody that seemed to go straight through him. Just as he opened his mouth to say something further Melody spoke again, her expression never changing. “Of course Jordan,” Melody said and smiled at him, though the smile did not touch her eyes as they continued their uninterrupted stare. “You must be 23 years old by now,” the woman said. Jordan raised an eyebrow again at a comment that seemed strangely specific. “Can I help you?” She repeated. There was a distinct lack of warmth in her voice and in the still blank stare.
“Uhhh, well, I was,” he stammered completely taken aback by her demeanor. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I would drop by to say hello.”
“Hello,” Melody said simply. “I’m sorry Jordan, right now is not a good time,” she added and turned to leave.
“Wait Mrs. Miller,” Jordan protested though it didn’t even slow the retreating woman. “Its Rhonda. From the agency. She's concerned that something might be wrong.”
Melody froze before turning slowly back around to face Jordan still with that unsettling blank stare in her eyes. Jordan was starting to understand where Rhonda was coming from.
Again that awkward silence filled the air. “That is so very kind of her. Please come in Jordan. I assure you everything is quite all right.” Melody turned and walked inside, holding the door open for Jordan. Once he was inside she shut the door, locking it behind them.
The inside of the house matched the outside in that it was exactly how he remembered it. From the old oak furnishings stained cherry with varnish decorated much of the house, from the old hat rack in the hallway to the small kitchen table in the houses kitchen. Knick knacks were arranged on shelves for decoration and picture hung on the wall. Many of them were of friends and family, but on a small table just on the outside of the kitchen rested picture frames that held pictures of all the foster kids that they had taken in, including a number of himself. There was one of him on his 16th birthday and one with him attending his first professional football game. These were good memories.
It's a Trap!
And still something felt off inside the home. Some kind of eerie stillness clung to everything. Melody Miller stood in the center of the kitchen aimlessly, her back to Jordan. “Is something wrong Jordan? What else did Rhonda say?”
Dust. Jordan looked down again at the pictures and the knick knack laden shelves. A thick layer of dust had clearly coated all of it as if it had been undisturbed for days, weeks maybe. That was uncharacteristic for the Millers who adhered to a strict schedule of daily chores to maintain the memories they had strewn about their home. Down the hall, the doorway to his old room stood open and vacant, devoid of anything that would indicate a foster child was staying with the Millers. Rhonda had been right, something was wrong.
Jordan hadn’t heard Melody, or whoever she really was, creeping up on him. Instead, he sensed the stainless steel hypodermic needle as it arced towards his neck. Jordan used his mutant ability on reflex and when the syringe touched his neck, the needle had already been ripped from it and flung into a nearby wall. He didn’t give the woman time to react as he angled his body and took his assailant by the wrist and flung her over his body, using her own momentum against her as he sent her tumbling into the oak table which collapsed beneath her.
“I don’t know what’s going on Melody, but I am here to help,” Jordan pleaded as the woman stood back up. Jordan’s jawed dropped open in silent horror when she turned around. Instead of a sweet matronly foster mother, he was staring at a blank slab of flesh. No eyes stared back at him, no mouth offered any explanation, there was only a flat fleshy mound where a normal face would have been. The Not-Melody-Miller creature seemed to regard the broken needle with curiosity as its head cocked to one side. “W-what have you done with the Millers?” He asked, his voice cracking and shaking in horror. The blank face focused on him once more and took a step towards him as she discarded the broken syringe. Jordan took a step back. The fingers of both the creatures hands elongated into rake like claws as she advanced even further.
Jordan turned and ran for the hallway, back towards the door to what had once been the closest thing to home he had ever known. He glanced behind himself as the creature pursued, but not close enough to keep him from wrenching the door free. Instead of finding his freedom on the other side of the door, he found another blank fleshy face dressed in what were surely Mr. Millers clothes. The thing cocked its head to the side as if appraising the situation. “Stay away from me!” Jordan screamed and tried to slam the door on the beast. The Not-Mr.-Miller slid his hand into the door before it closed fully and Jordan distinctly heard the crack of bones. But as he struggled with the second attacker, the female shape-shifter leaped up to his back, her long claw like fingers wrapping around his throat and cutting off his airway. He flailed about desperately trying to free himself, slamming the thing on his back into walls and trying to wrench her hands from his neck with his own hands. His vision swam and desperation set in. Focusing his thoughts he focused on the iron rings around his fingers. The rings melted and reformed, tiny sharp spikes taking the place of the smooth metal and he drove those spike into the throat of the attacker at his back. The faceless woman crumpled to the ground gripping her throat, the place where her face should have been warping to form a concave fleshy mouth opened as if screaming and coughing, her body jerking in short little fits. Still no sound came out of her. Jordan fell to the ground sucking in life-giving oxygen and he scooted away from the woman. The faceless man burst through the door, splintering wood as he surged inside. It stopped above its accomplice, as if checking on her. Finally her form steadied and Jordan groaned as he watched her wounded neck and his broken hand contort and repair themselves.
Jordan stumbled to his feet, his lungs burning and his throat bruised. The faceless male was helping the faceless woman to her feet before turning back to him, both of them baring long fingered claws now. They bent, like predators about to pounce. Jordan focused again and his rings shifted again, coming apart into a small collection of small pellets that whipped around his body like a small metal cyclone. The two creatures stopped and looked towards the door for a moment. Outside a retinue of black SUVs pulled up, screeching to a halt as agents garbed in black leaped out, many of them training automatic weapons on the house. One man, seemingly in charge and unafraid stepped out of the lead vehicle and entered the house. His face seemed surprised as he discovered Jordan. He looked back to the two faceless creatures that seemed to cower away from the agent. “Bring him in alive,” he said simply and walked back outside.
Capture it Alive
Sudden panic, dangerous and wild, whipped through Jordan. The tiny metal balls whipped around him in a frenzy, rending the air with small buzzing sounds as they flew. His eyes widened as he felt cornered and terrified. The faceless creatures crouched and came at him and Jordan screamed, his metal pellets flying forward. Many of them missed, some found their targets and scored deep into the flesh of his oncoming enemies. They hardly slowed them. Jordan met the two attackers with a flurry of blows and throws he learned in his training with his Kung Fu Master Dai Man. He caught a swipe from the woman and tossed her through a window seconds before dodging a punch aimed at his head from the man. Jordan caught the thing’s wrist as it lunged again, slipped behind it, and punched the arm’s joint with another audible snap as the appendage fell limply by the creature’s side. With another crash, the woman rejoined the fray through another window directly behind Jordan. He felt claws and glass rake across his back and the warm drip of blood as it poured from his wounds as the force of the strike drove him to the ground. She came at him again and a well-placed kick broke her knee and she careened into the wall behind him. Another cracking sound from behind him alerted him to another strike incoming from the man, his arm already fixed and in fighting order. Jordan dodged but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the claws raking one of his cheeks. The pain and blood slowed his reaction time and the next punch nailed him in the face, stars swarming his vision.
He was fighting a losing battle, he realized as more blows hammered into him. Jordan tried to roll into a ball, his arms defending his head and neck as he tried to kick clumsily at his tormentors. His fear crested as he thought about what would happen next. Beaten bloody and unconscious, these faceless monsters would surrender him to the unknown men outside. Were they the people from the lab? Had the finally caught up to him as he had feared? And was this all some kind of awful set up to capture him? To experiment on him? Or worse? Jordan screamed in desperation, an uncontrollable surge of his instinct to survive. “I said stay away from me!”
Something snapped inside of Jordan and what control he had over his abilities disappeared. His scream continued, loud and long and primal. Metal shook. Knives rattled in the drawers and lights flickered. The cars parked outside groaned in protest as their steel was attracted to Jordan’s power. Suddenly a metal shower of shrapnel began ripping through the home, exploding through glass and wood alike. The faceless creatures looked about desperately as the shower turned into a storm, larger pieces of metal ripping free from all around them and striking against anything solid. Wisely, the creatures retreated through a nearby opening, their bodies being belted and torn by incoming metal. Jordan’s scream continued even after they had fled, louder and louder as he curled in a fetal position on the floor. Guns fired bullets of their own volition before the very guns themselves were ripped away from shouting agents. Finally, the fleet of SUVs shuddered and started tumbling towards the house as well, crashing into the wooden structure. All the metal on the block flew to Jordan, his scream now as much from the pain of the energy he was unable to control at this point. Blood dripped from his eyes like tears and from his ears as he seized. Gasoline leaked from the wrecked SUVs and poured through the house, catching fire by exposed wiring as it was exposed from the houses walls. The house burned, actually easing the amount of energy surging through Jordan as the metal around him liquified and cocooned itself around him in a protective egg until the world, from Jordan’s perspective, went black.
The supervising agent looked at the destruction and sighed. “We’re going to need a cleanup crew immediately. I want this kid back at the lab before nightfall.”
@jordandrake: Amazing read....seriously, thats some excellent stuff. The imagery was badass and the action could be felt. I'll start working on a response.
Let me show you how to control that extraordinary gift
@quintus_knightfall: @shadowswordmaster: Thanks! Honestly I was worried it would feel a bit rushed but as I was going towards 4 pages in Google Docs I was like "Holy %#!^! I need to wrap this up!" lol
The Mosaic Mamba's thumb gracefully slid across his finger and the silver embroidered ring that decorated it. Faultless concentration aimed towards a luxuriously hand crafted chess board and its one of a kind assemblage. Surveying not only the current positions of each piece, but their finite destinations and repercussions based off anticipated movements. Kings, Queens, Rooks and Pawns, all carved from a rare metallic compound known as Black Carbonadium, and all slaves to the master of telekinetic coordination. As would the World if left to his own devises. Ambition now drove the Knightfall Polymath's radical ideology of survival of the fittest. Homo-Sapiens had hunted, killed, and experimented on the children of the atom since before the Living Weapon had been born. Many had risen up in an effort to turn the tide. Champions for the cause, such as Amaranth and his terrifying Arcani, though enemies by verdict of vendetta, were still paragons in a silent war against the tidal wave of evolutionarily malnourished apes who sought to persecute the carriers of the vaunted X-Gene. But those days were rapidly facing extinction, as were the homo-sapiens themselves.
Quintus stoically lifted his chin and swayed his finger, triumphantly marching his knight across the board before an unexpected interruption intercepted his concentration."Yes? What is it?"he questioned. Ignoring social courtesy with absent eye contact."Sorry, sir. Just thought you should know, we've located him. But I suggest you hurry, seems you are not the only one who is interested in the young man." this, however, caught the undivided attention of the Knightfall Patriarch. Abandoning the game, his coat, hat, and airline ticket were all handed to him as he rushed past towards the door.
Several Hours later:
Smoke and chaos raced towards the sky as if trying to escape the destruction below. Sirens, screams, and disbelief resonated like a banshee's wail for blocks. Disparately emergency personnel scrambled in attempts to cornering off massive sections of the suburban cul-de-sac that had become a urban warzone. Then, suddenly, aching metal moans harmonious sang as police vehicles began to slide off and clear a path for a shadowy silhouette. Every step a confident swag wrapped in defiance and tailored with exclusive fashion. From the titled fedora which slightly obscured the full portrait of his face, to the tan edged smoke tinted designer shades that concealed his rage filled eyes, the mysterious enigma's presence exuded authoritarian authenticity.
"THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA! YOU'LL....."HMMPH The ineffectual bark of the officer was violently halted. His body flung several yards away by an unseen force. And all it took was a barely noticeable flinch of the Knightfall's hand. His actions ignited an opera of bullets, a maelstrom of deadly fired projectiles all racing towards their final destination only to be suspended in midair and fall harmless at the Mosaic Mamba's leather oxfords.
Flashing both arms out to the side, Quintus instantly created a wave of telekinetic space freeing up an opportunity to address the only person there worthy of conversation. Knocking on the cooled sheath of melted debris he smirked, "Mr. Drake, my name is Quintus Knightfall. And I am here to tell you that you do not have to hide from the World, nor should you fear it." waiting a moment. "My dear boy, it tis dee World who should rightfully fear you. I can show you how to master your extraordinary talents. Or you can stay here and continue to be hunted like an animal. The choice is yours but know, once it is made, there will be no turning back....."
@quintus_knightfall: lol! I only deleted it because I misread your post. I thought you said, "I'll hold you down til you do." So I thought I was being hilarious when I posted, "Kinky!" Then I posted and reread your post and it was actually "I'll hold it down til you do." Then I was like, "I'm not funny at all and now I feel dumb!" ;_;
Jordan drifted in and out on consciousness as the metallic shield formed a protective barrier, flames and weapons fire raging around him outside of the inky blackness that now concealed him. The energy that he had expended made him feel weak and his mind was still reeling from the uncontrollable fear that had caused him to lose control. His breathing was erratic and his heart rate was racing. Blood, warm and wet, continued to drizzle from the dozen minor wounds and made the interior of his bunker slick. He cradled his face in shaky hands as he tried to clear the fog of panic and pain out of his mind and think about his options. They were severely limited. Stay and fight, or flee, though both would only lead to his capture or death.
That was when a new option emerged. Though the casing he had formed around himself kept the noise from outside muffled and distant, he could feel the vibrations of the raging fire and the teams of men through his telekinetic connection with the surrounding metal. Weapons were silenced, fire was extinguished, and wood and debris moved aside as something approached his shelter. Whoever it was, Jordan could tell that it was confident and purposeful.
"Mr. Drake, my name is Quintus Knightfall. And I am here to tell you that you do not have to hide from the World, nor should you fear it." waiting a moment. "My dear boy, it tis dee World who should rightfully fear you. I can show you how to master your extraordinary talents. Or you can stay here and continue to be hunted like an animal. The choice is yours but know, once it is made, there will be no turning back....."
Quintus Knightfall
Yeah, easy for you to say, Jordan’s thoughts pierced the veil of weakness that had started to overcome him, You’re not the one who’s been beaten and bloodied and chased to exhaustion.
Still the choice was obvious, at least to Jordan. He could stay here and await his fate, inevitably being captured or killed while fighting or fleeing. Either of those choices wouldn’t last long in his current state. Or he could go with Quintus. There was a chance that this was some further trap laid out for him. But Jordan sensed that the man outside his shell was like him and not like the agents outside. The possibilities made Jordan’s head spin further. Outside this shell was a man like him offering his help and experience. Guidance like that had never been offered to him before and the chance to control his powers was impossible to pass off, especially after they left him practically useless as they had today.
“F*@^,” He cursed to himself hopeful and scared at the same time as he placed his hands against the metal sides. Jordan tried to calm his nerves and focus on his innate connection with the metal around him, infusing more energy into the elemental molecules. The pain was overwhelming, like an icepick in his temple as he forced his focus. Muscles spasmed and his face contorted as he pushed through the pain that using his power caused him in his current state. Agony slowly gave way to relief as the metal finally responded, liquefying and forming a small opening just large enough for Jordan to squeeze through. “I’m sure as hell not going with them,” Jordan confirmed as he struggled to his feet, bracing himself as he half stood before Quintus.
“Lead the way,” Jordan nodded to Quintus, his face firming with resolution.
@mastermouse: Kinda new. I was around a long while back and started up a group RP that went ok but fizzled. So I just wrapped up the open ends into a new story and then rolled back into this newest RP with Quintus. And thanks for the compliment! The hardest part about writing is that we can be our own worst critics so the compliments are good for my confidence :p
@house_mouse: Yeah. My wife and I don't go to sleep until really late too. Last night we were playing a video game until midnight and that was just when we logged off. Then it took us 45 minutes to an hour for MLP to lul us to sleep, lol.
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