I apologize, but I had to change a few minor details in order to make a coherent narrative or to avoid too many similar characters. However, people's bio's have not changed. I'm sorry if your character's were not in it! They will be shortly.
It was a September night, around 2am. Outside, the leaves on the university campus in a town, not too far from London, leaves were fading from green, to yellow, to orange, and finally red. They grew in the small allotment of tiles each tree was provided within the pavements. The tall, silver lamps shone brightly across the pathways outside the apartment complex on campus, yet it faded darker among the field and trees in the distance until the main body of the university was reached, which lacked any artificial light at all. It was locked during the night, from professors and students. It was mostly impossible to see. This deep, orange glow from, the street lamps, crawled through Callum’s small, cubed window, wonky blinds, across the freshly cleaned carpet and onto his very bed.
In a small, enclosed room, involved in the apartment complex, was a teenage boy called Callum who had just began his very first year at University. The room was small, bare, cubed and a single room for a single student. All that remained in his room from the presumably last student that stayed was an oak, cheap desk by the window, his unpacked suitcase and his laptop, still open on the desk, along with a swivel chair. It was his very first night into the new world. It was a stressful day, leaving behind family and friends. A stressful night also. Possibly the most stressful of his entire life. He lay in bed, still in his clothes from the previous day: a plain t-shirt and jeans. He was deep in dreams, yet so uncomfortable. His dreams morphed into flashes of terror over time, picturing horrifying colours of red and emotions of pain. His dreams made no sense. He could feel… butterflies and could sense pain without feeling it. Sensations unlike reality controlled his body in the night, moulding it like fire moulds metal, into a stiff position. His body was in state of perspiration, extreme sweat, leaking into every crevice of his mattress, cover and pillow. It layered him in a shiny gloss and swept back his hair into veins that stuck to the pillow underneath him. In a matter of seconds, his clothes were further than damp, they were soaked in sweat. His arms and legs jerked and twitched in fear at the flashes of images in his mind. That is when his mind woke, but his body didn’t. His eyes could dart around the room with curiosity, yet see nor comprehend nothing. He could only understand that he was getting hotter and tenser, and could smell something like that of smoke. But not normal smoke, like when his family cooked meat or even a house fire. It was an oily smell. As if a petrol tank had exploded with fire. As seconds passed by, and his limbs began to relax, he felt stronger, yet more afraid. He carefully raised his torso, and sweat literally ran down his soaked t-shirt, as if it was made of plastic, and heat the carpet. ‘What was that smell?’ he thought. It was becoming stronger. Yet, he rubbed his hands to his face first, brushing off the pool of sweat that latched to his hair and eyelids. He could feel how red his face was, how it burned in his hands and it was unbearable. It felt like his entire body were eyes that had just been smothered in shampoo or something irritating to the skin. It wasn’t an itch, but an unshakable irritation to his entire presence. He removed his hands, and watched the sweat drip from the tip of his nose, through the heated air, slowly, and finally hit the floor, where it burned black circles in the carpet and a feathers of smoke arose.
---Earlier that day---
Two young, pretty woman stand in the woods, one more awkwardly than the other. The uncomfortable woman, dressed incredibly casually, has taken a seat upon a dead tree trunk. Her posture was very strong, however her eyes where that of a wary person. A judgemental, powerful, yet truly scared person. Her name was Martha, and had served as a Master Sergeant in the military and was on leave. Courtney, the other girl, was her only family now. Martha had lost her family as a little girl. They were taken from her, from a strange group of people. Courtney, on the other hand, was Martha’s opposite. Together, they were complete. Alone, and they were broken people who had otherwise no place in society. Courtney held a playful look in her gaze. The world amazed her. Everything from biology to competition. She loved the human world, and wouldn’t trade a minute for it if it meant she could not smell the fresh scent of the bark, or the fresh earth, or hear the clicking and buzzing of wildlife, or feel the rays of sunshine push through the leaves and onto her fresh cheeks. Unlike her best friend, Martha, she dressed with a particular style: a black jacket, black tights with brown boots and tank top underneath. She uses her crossbow to spot her prey, resting it close to her eye, ready to fire with one eye squinted. With the release of her two fingers, an arrow is released and penetrates deep into the heart of a squirrel. It was jumping mid-air, and dropped dead many yards away, with a metal staked through its small heart.
“You’re still a good shot,” Marths grins, crossing her legs upon her tree stump, breaking the of the branches that tickle her cheeks from surrounding bushes.
“I don’t even know why,” Courtney smiles, jogging over to the squirrel and raising into a shout, “it just comes naturally, I guess.”
Courtney was not the most confident person who did not recognize her own skills as actual skills.
“It’s not a skill if it comes naturally,” Courtney adds, “come to think of it, I don’t have many built talents.”
Courtney re-joins Martha in their conversation together, to which Courtney is mostly the talker.
“You are telling me you shot like that on your first try?”
“I guess,” Courtney responds, quietly, “I don’t really remember. It was years ago since I started.”
“So you don’t think you’re good at chess either?” Martha asks, as if disappointed with Courtney.
Courtney loved to compete in chess tournaments. She had not lost a single time. Whenever asked why she was so skilled at chess, she always responded with:
“It just comes naturally.”
Martha knew these things do not just happen. Something was off about Courtney, that even Courtney was not aware of. Martha stuck close after this event, and has even suspected things about Courtney before this event. Martha had suspicions and theories she wanted to discover the truth about. But for now, Martha held a fake, passionate smile.
“Go on then,” Martha smiles, “catch me my dinner!”
---2AM---
After watching his own sweat devour his carpet and burn holes in his mattress, cover, and pillow, Callum decides to research. His entire room smells of burning hair and petrol, a very strange combinations. He had even attempted to have a shower, but his sweat brushed away the paint from the tiles and the floor of the shower, revealing only shiny metal behind that had even began to bubble. After the sweat and fluids had been removed, he felt cleansed, and re-dressed in clothes that were more appropriate for an awake state, including a hooded jumper and skinny jeans. He had to throw out his sweat-drenched clothes that smelt toxic to the extent of physical irritation. Luckily, his perspiration episode had ended.
He sat upon his swivel chair, at his desk, and his fingers typed with intent and malice in order to find answers. He kept his room lights off; he felt as if he was a secret that should not be shown in direct light. He typed, and typed, and typed, until the orange beam of dawn sliced through his dusty dorm window.
‘Serious sweat’, he researched, along with ‘uncontrollable sweaty nightmares’, ‘sweat burning holes’ but nothing arouse. Not a single answer. He was literally and mentally in the dark. What was happening to him? To his body? Would it ever happen again? Too many unanswered questions that left his mind in panic and an irritation of something left incomplete. But, as a final resort, he typed:
‘unexplainable body events’ and a website labelled ‘Are you special?’ advertised by an unknown individual named with the address HARUKA.com. He read, and specific details of the webpage caught his eye. ‘supernatural powers’, ‘scary body experiences’, ‘natural unexplainable talents’. ‘This is not a talent,’ Callum immediately thought. At the very end of the webpage was a real address, a physical one that Callum could visit, he noted it down in an instant. Honestly, he just wanted an escape from the university sight. There was too many people that would question his ‘ability’ or incident if they ever found out. He knew it couldn’t be controlled. It may have just been a one-time thing. He did not want to carry that risk on his shoulders.
It was still early morning, around 8am. But at this moment, the university was very much alive, with busy students making their way their very first classes of the day. For hundreds, it was their first year at university. Every student involved in this school attended ‘University of Murray’, east of London by some miles, in the country. Although the university was popular for many gifted students in humanities and the creative arts, it was also known for the support of underachieving students, like Callum, who had been caught cheating in examinations and threatening over students to hack into school systems and change his grades. It worked for a long time, but he eventually got caught. The University of Murray offered him a second chance.
A few apartment below Murray, were boyfriend and girlfriend, Jax and Moira, who each held boxes containing their clothes, close-to-home objects and school necessities. The hallways they tumbled down with their boxes were busy with rowdy students. They were both new to the university too.
Moira was studying to become a nurse, although this university was not her initial option. Jax ‘manipulated’ her through verbal abuse to attend this university. To follow him, not him follow her. She had suggested breaking up, but it only encouraged her anxiety attacks to return. She hadn’t had one for years.
“What was the name of our roommate again?” Moira asks, nervously.
“I told you already! You know what it is,” Jax snaps back, angrily. That is when Callum, barging down the hallways, knocks Jax’s and Moira’s boxes to the ground on accident. Jax’s property floods across the floor.
“What do you think you’re playing at?” Jax shouts, ready to grab Callum by the throat.
“Jax, it was an accident! Leave him!” Moira attempts to calm him down. But it was not working. Jax’s rage needed to be outlasted now. With his fingers inches away from Callum’s throat, who was still slightly most from sweat, he screamed.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” It was not an ordinary scream, like you would hear the childish students scream at lunch, or a heated argument in the hallways. It was the scream someone would shout in serious danger. Everybody in the hallways, despite their rush, stopped. Even Jax, who gently withdrew his hand in embarrassment. Moira’s face was red with blush too. Her first hour at Uni had already been spoiled by her obnoxious partner. Wide-eyed, Callum starred at the two of them, and back at their boxes that lay crumpled on the marble floors of the hallways. He had no time to feel apologetic. But he felt a strange feeling in their presence. Nothing like before, but not like his episode earlier either. It was a feeling of butterflies in his stomach, but more bearable. It was a strangely pleasant feeling he couldn’t understand. But he left anyway, leaving Jax and Moira to compose their property alone, without hope. Embarrassment was written across Moira’s face. Anger on Jax’s.
A middle aged man, with hair of silver, who wore a liberating, presentable suit. He takes his first steps in England; he emerges from the airport. His mysterious eyes are protected by a fine pair of sunglasses. He has an air about him, a one of confidence yet determination. He inhales in the art of London architecture and fashion. He is soon alienated due to his American accent and foreign dressing. His walk was with purpose and determination, wheeling his suitcase behind him. He had somewhere to be and something to do.
“Winny Jefferson” are the only two words he speaks to the man at the hotel desk. One of the finest in London. He is respectfully given a key, and Winny returns a smile meanwhile clutching the keys into his fist. After a lonely elevator ride, he reaches his hotel room that has a skyline view of London city: The Thames, the London Eye.
He spends the majority of the day alone, in his room, ordering service at necessary moments. On the roof of the inside of his luggage are photos of his father’s family, the Corolla’s: a mob family. There is a photo of his father, brother, sister and other photos of distanced family. Overall, there was seven. Two women, five men, all with a look of sorrow and hatred. Two men’s faces had a dark black cross signalling their arrest. But the rest of his family was on the loose in the world, out for his family. That is why he needed to find his children before they did.
Two people sit under a main highway, washed out with grey colours. Dust unsettles their lungs and clouds the air, while it rains in the fields that are metres from the shelter of the road. The fields blow in the storm, like the waves of the ocean. The wind fires the rain under the tunnel, hitting against their poor, unwashed faces. All they have for protection is fur coats that they had stolen. They had nowhere to go. Their foster family had neglected them, then suddenly became afraid. One day, the children came home, and the family had moved, leaving them behind. Unluckily for them, they understood why everyone feared them.
While sitting in the puddles that lay on the gravel and mud below, Gabriella and Ian, brother and sister, remain silent. This was ordinary for them, or at least has been for a while. Being abandoned by everyone who is supposed to love you takes its toll. Gabriella is older, in her early adult years. But Ian is younger, in his mid teens.
Ian is asleep, leaning against the tunnel wall, his body propped against a dumpster. Gabriella, who is very much awake, leans against the opposite side of the wet tunnel, who is using her talents to prevent the rain. She swirls her fingers, and a few, small, colourful and circular balls form in the air, attracting the rain towards it. The gravitational force is strong enough to attract the rain, but too weak to affect larger objects. The puddles gradually evaporate into the purple balls too, as well as the occasional pebble. The water and stone just levitate within the purple glow, compacting together. The sudden stop of the rain wakes Ian. His eyes glide to Gabriella, without moving anything other than his eyes.
“Thanks,” he says.
Gabriella does not respond. Her skills are great, and is able to look away, yet her powers remain present, preventing the rain from hitting them. It is lucky that they are not in a public place, and that no one ever walks under this tunnel. It is too small for public walking.
“Do you ever think about Mom? Dad?” Ian asks.
“No,” She responds. Her gravity spores become stronger. The rain directs towards it more vigorously.
“What I mean is if Dad ever had a reason to leave? What if it was to protect us?”
“He failed,” she responds, “Mom died because he wasn’t there. Mom wasn’t like us and had no reason to die. He wasn’t there when we needed him.”
“It’s not Dad’s fault that his father hunts mutants,” Ian explains, “humanity is the problem.”
Gabriella’s gravity strength becomes out of control, causing cracks to form in the tunnel from pressure. Ian notices himself resisting their force, so he bangs his fist on the mud, and the gravity spores freeze into perfectly circular balls with stones inside them, and crack when they fall to the ground.
Questions:
Only 3 characters so far are known to be mutants of some type. What do you think of their powers so far? What else do you think they can do with this type of power? What do you think the limits are of their powers?
Who else do you think may be a mutant and why?
Give me your thoughts!!! :P :P Your welcome to discuss anything else.
Comments
Calum-Human torch power/Courtney-Green Arrow power/Gabriella-Invisible woman power I like the powers so far and some already know of their power while others don't.I think that Jax has a super strength power and Moira is his rock,but if she dies he will go out of control unless he learns to control his mutant power
I like the series so far even tho my triplets aren't even introduced yet and im doing a mid season/season assessment like the walking dead series
Questions:
Only 3 characters so far are known to be mutants of some type. What do you think of their powers so far? What else do you think they can do with this type of power? What do you think the limits are of their powers?
Callum - He's a bit of a pyro as you can obviously see from the burning sweat. Honestly, I think his powers will come out relatively early because fire is a bit of an obvious power to have. I think he may gain the ability to fly a la The Human Torch, but I can also see him be an exploding bomb, kind of like what Peter Petrelli became at the end of Season 1 of Heroes.
Courtney - Her powers are a bit more controllable because they are that of the mind. Her power I would probably put in at advanced intelligence and advanced accuracy. While it is a longshot, I even think she could eventually be a bit like Lucario in Pokemon and be able to see auras in both animate and inanimate objects.
Gabriella - She has the power of gravity. You saw those sphere appear in the sky to attract rain. They were causing a gravitational pull on the rain. These powers could develop to even the point where she can create black holes.
Who else do you think may be a mutant and why?
I'm not really sure yet. I don't see anyone who jumps out as having superpowers. lol
Give me your thoughts!!! :P :P Your welcome to discuss anything else.
It's a really cool first episode :) I will probably do the assessments in the same frame I've been doing The Walking Dead with. I do wanna see Courtney's playful humor a bit more in the upcoming episodes and I wanna see how Callum develops.
Icarus_Mark I will include that humor for you :P. And I really appreciate how you have thought outside the box! Although RyanAndrews and Macda27 opinions are very valid and mostly spot on, I believe they are underestimating my creativity ;). Most, if not all the powers are all my original ideas. If not, they have my own twist on them. So, although Courtney may seem like the Green Arrow, or Callum may seem like the Human Torch, this will not be the case.
Also, there are still a lot of characters who have powers that we do not know of yet! :P
Rey Haruka, 40 ( TheStan)
Gabriella Jefferson, 20, Ian and Gabriella’s Father ( TheStan)
Ian Jefferson, 15, Winny’s Son ( tkoj555)
Winny Jefferson, 51, Winny’s Daughter ( TheStan)
caught this b4 writing, haloking !!!
got the little relationships part mixed up so xD
Only 3 characters so far are known to be mutants of some type. What do you think of their powers so far? What else do you think they can do with this type of power? What do you think the limits are of their powers?
Callum: Hmm, this one is difficult. Something to do with heat or electricity, unless he's Boiling Water man or something. Maybe absorbs electricity from power supplies, explains the darkness?
Courtney: Fast learner I guess, perfected chess and the crossbow. I don't know what kinda name you would give to her power, just that she's quick at learning things.
Gabriella: Controlling gravity seems like a legit prediction, though I have a feeling it's more than that. I get the sense of some Star Wars-esque force ability, but I'll wait and see.
Who else do you think may be a mutant and why?
Hmm, maybe Winny or Ian? Could be a thing that runs through the family. Jax or Moira, one of the two. Maybe Moira has some mind control over him so he won't burst out into fits?
Also, Haruka seems like a Professor X type character with this website. Guaranteed he will be a mutant, unless he's a scam or something.
I like the series so far even tho my triplets aren't even introduced yet and im doing a mid season/season assessment like the walking dead series