What the Old Timers Left for Us - RPG.

('OOC'/ discussion page is here : http://www.comicvine.com/forums/rpg-9/what-the-old-timers-left-for-us-ooc-discussion-1745162/#22 )

The streets of London smelt of damp and despair. Under the grey skies tinged with small specks of light breaking through from the heavens, like the last lonely little shred of hope amidst the evils of Pandora's Box, the pavements lay still; stained in red, they had become both the metaphor and the literal manifestation of the highway to hell .. that was, atleast, for the freaks. For about 2 weeks now, tensions between the powered and non powered of the world had heightened to an extent never before known in history. After the incident in the cafe near Warwick Avenue when a mutant girls powers manifested suddenly and caused a mass explosion, killing 6 others and herself, those who had sought for many years to make the de powered human race the only race had been given another lead on the propaganda trail.

"These people are menaces"

"The only time there's trouble is when these freaks show up. There's no such thing as a good freak. They are not human and are not welcome"

Radio. So boring, so predictable. Give humanity an inch and it will go a mile. Not that this shocked 'Aria'. He was lucky enough to have not yet been noticed for his differences, but then .. he always had been pretty good at fading into nothingness. Acting as an observer, refusing to speak out on either side, he recalled to himself previous occasions of uproar .. Sinead O'Connor performing War on that American TV show .. he always loved that performance. How right was she but how silenced did she become? People don't listen to the messengers, they shoot them down out of the promise of something greater than the truth. He could tell everyone that the people behind the riots and hatred were wrong - that you can't generalise good nor evil - but would he just be booed away .. or shot in the head? It wasn't worth it.

Stepping out from the shadows of the run down corner shop a few streets from Warwick Avenue underground station, Aria, in his casual dress of jeans, white trainers and black jacket, along with scruffed up hair, walked at a slow pace. Dead mutant there - bullet to the throat. Dead human opposite - some sort of biological attack carried out in self defence. No doubt again the innocent mutant was the bad guy. Aria kept on walking, discarding a rolled up cigarette into a nearby drain before turning into Warwick Avenue station. It was quieter than it had ever been before. Hopping on the first train that came along, with no idea where he was headed, the ghost-whisperer who society saw as just a new-age gutterpunk awaited his next calling. The voices in his head were fainter now. He'd seen what they'd wanted, but he still had nothing to say to the world. For all he knew, he'd be the last freak left alive on this planet, and still be left without a motive to defend the others of his kind. Letting go of his thoughts and the voices in his head for a moment, he overheard part of a conversation between two other commuters ..

'Yeah. Apparently there's this whole conspiracy that the government has nothing to do with this and there are people behind closed doors pulling the strings.'

'That's what they all say.'

'Yeah but, bruv, get this .. if all the freaks die, but one really powerful freak is left who could kill everybody then what if he's just getting the opposition out of the way?'

'Shit bruv, deep. Oi, Tasha text me earlier she ---'

Aria left out a quiet sigh. Could he go nowhere without having more questions enter his mind? It wasn't as if he was alone in his own head trying to answer them. Hoping for a moments peace, some silence from the world trying to tell him to stand up and fight, he lay back into the shadows of the carriage and just .. faded.

"Prime minister, we have to get you out of here." Specialist Protection moved quickly to evacuate Prime Minister David Cameron from the city. Suddenly a flaming man stood in the middle of the street, and the security detail swerved to miss him, only to find another forcing them to turn down a street that was not on their escape route. The street they had entered had only one turn to get them back on the escape route, blocked by yet another flaming man, whose appearance matched both of the others, and the other way was a dead end. The driver decided to try to run over the man of fire, but the man didn't budge, as the front of the Jaguar XJ Sentinel crumpled inwards and flipped over him. The two Range Rovers behind him stopped as quickly as they could, and several men opened fire on the flaming man, who disappeared, ribbons of flame fading into the sky. The men ran towards the Jaguar, and worked fervently to extract the Prime Minister from the car.

Just as they pulled him out, Nero appeared on a nearby rooftop out of a swirling mass of black and a dark purple, which disappeared as soon as the man had stepped foot onto the roof. He snapped his finger, and Prime Minister Cameron's entire security detail were scorched by pillars of flame rising from the ground, leaving only the Prime Minister himself alive. Cameron crawled frantically on his back a short distance, and flipped onto his hands, pushing himself up to stand, and he ran as fast and as far away as he could. It wasn't very far though, as he only got about 6 meters away before Nero appeared in front of him. The Prime Minister stopped just before he ran into Nero, who said "Prime Minister! I've been looking for you. You're coming with me." "What? Where are we going?" Cameron asked. "To die for your crimes." Nero answered. He dragged the Prime Minister into a black portal he summoned, and the two disappeared into it

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Near the London Eye, there was a large group of mutants rioting. Nero appeared on a rooftop holding Prime Minister Cameron by the jacket collar, and called out to the mutants. "Mutant brethren!" The mob turned to him and saw the Prime Minister dangling of the edge, only alive because Nero didn't let go. He used his free hand to remove the hood from his head. He continued, "I too, am a mutant! A mutant tired of oppression. A mutant tired of being held backby weaker specimens like this man! This man has secretly been advocating for your deaths. Will we stand for it?" The mob gave a resounding "No!" In truth, not a word Nero said was true. He was not a mutant, nor was he even from this world. And he hadn't the slightest idea what the Prime Minister's role in the Mutant discussion was. But that didn't stop the mob from believing him. Soon, the mob was chanting "Throw him! Throw him! Throw him! Throw him!" Over and over. Finally, Nero did just that, and the Prime Minister fell, getting closer and closer to the ground. He would need saving quickly, or that would be the end of him.

Aria awoke in the street again, in motion.

"God sake"

He pushed two fingers against his temples, a sharp ache piercing throughout his brain like a jagged knife to soft flesh. This was happening a lot lately, these blackouts. As well as the voices in his head leading him towards .. something .. he guessed answers, but for now it was, atleast to him, utter pointlessness.

Not looking back, he reached for his tobacco pouch and rolling papers. Rolling an overly packed cigarette, he noticed a small specimen of blood on the index finger of his right hand. Shrugging it off as a probably cut from earlier, he just proceeded to light the cigarette. In what had now become a glorious red sunset, he basked in a moments peace and warmth. There was nobody around, no noise .. stillness. If only he'd looked behind him, he'd have known why; a heap of dead bodies, human and mutant alike - spines broken, bodies contorted into complex positions .. all left with a petrified look in their eyes. Opening his eyes to the road that lay ahead of him, Aria began to pace forward into the unknown kingdom of what was becoming a new London in the impending dusk.

.

'Fucking mutant scum. Look at you! No good for anybody! Don't you -- aggggh!'

Hooded, tall .. with claws. Suited and booted .. with telepathy. Raging and armed .. humans. Outside the tube station, a fight had kicked off between a small group of humans and mutants, how they'd identified each other would not have been obvious to anyone .. maybe one group overheard the other throwing insults, nobody will ever know. In a faded daze, Aria exited the station - eyes black, without a direct focus.

'Stop fighting.' he said in a low voice.

No response, the violence continued.

'I said stop fighting.'

'Piss off you!' a voice from the small crowd of battling bodies called back, before a hand came lashing out in Aria's direction.

'Okay.'

It didn't take 30 seconds. Every human and mutant in that fight was dead. Bones broken with heavy swings and blown .. an unthinking mind a telepath could get nothing from, not that it would take a telepath to recognise that what was running in their direction, fist clenched was the epitome of violence and terror in an innocent looking young man's body.

And it was done. Above Aria, the sky blazed an almighty red, leaking over the skies like the blood of his victims leaked over the pavement.

He began to walk, and the darkness began to fade from his eyes.

Aria awoke in the street again, in motion.

"God sake"

He pushed two fingers against his temples ......

.

A few hours were spent zig g zagging his way from street to street in an oblivious, comfortable 'bubble' before Aria made his way to a crowded area where the air stank of death, anger, conviction and confusion. He wasn't too bothered, he'd do what he'd always do .. just duck into the shadows and watch. He was aware he was in the presence of other mutants, and a leader maybe? He didn't recognise the character atop a roof nor the man whom he had just left to fall. Was this some sort of sacrifice? Was this the rebellion?

A death for a death?

Aria figured that much in the final moments before he faded into darkness again. Never did this occur twice in a few hours.

'Fuck sake.'

This last thought was drowned out in nothingness. Aria was gone, but his shell of a body was functioning. Dark eyed and charging. A mutant turned to see what was running up behind him .. only to end up floored and bloodied in the face. Others turned out of shock and wondering what else was going on .. surely to them this would seem like a mutant turning on his own kind and raise more questions. As the Prime Minister reached the ground he was collected in Aria's arms, before being bitten in the face. Such a transition in behaviour .. if only those looking in from the crowd or Aria could have done something about this, but then .. what do you do when a mutation manifests as a separate personality and the main personality just thinks he hears ghosts?

If Aria had known .. he was ending up in places to kill in the name of his mutation. His innocent was balanced by this darkness, his inability to fight or hurt another balanced out by a savage side with an animalistic nature and a list for blood .. who would always take an offering for his own.

DEATH

The streets shimmered. Our morally ambiguous nineties antihero stepped out of the shadows and breathed in the air. Delicious. Where...? Hmm. Rick raised his rifle in the air and fired repeatedly. C'mon then! Have at you!

(Ughhhhh. Just wanted to get a post down.)