The Sentinel's Sweetheart

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Six Million Dollar Man, Dec 23, 2012.

  1. "…"

    -

    All was silent through the solar system, and the rest of the Milky Way Galaxy. Not a star stirred, not even to collapse into a black hole. The final frontier was truly a beauty in moments of silence like this one. I mean, that is, if there wasn't a figure hurdling at approximately 186,000 miles per second tearing through the vacuum of space, a streak of golden light trailing behind him as he pushed forwards, maintaining a constant velocity towards the blue planet he called 'home.'

    The figure seems to be no older than about sixteen, possessing short black hair, and a strange jumpsuit consisting of a red top and blue bottoms, with blue gloves, golden bracers, belt, and boots, and a dark blue collar about his neck, making him appear as some kind of astronaut or something, out of some 1950's silver age science fiction movie or something, but with a modern edge to his appearance. Over his chest was a large symbol of what appeared to be a shining light extending outwards, with of all things, a battery at the center. Like some kind of bloody superhero, perhaps?

    Well regardless, it seemed he was an unstoppable force. The cosmic serum he drank not long ago ensured that he would become one the world's- no, the Universe's mightiest beings. At least, unless there was something out there stronger than he was? In his own right, he was like the Superman of this reality. Well known by the world, and rightfully so due to his high level of power.

    "CRASH!"

    "CRACCCK!!"


    Those were the sound of stray asteroids being torn apart as he hurried to return to Earth...

    -

    …Where he nearly crashed, landing safely outside of his hometown, Bluedale, a simple little town on the American East Coast, near Baltimore.

    Grant Thompson appeared from out an alleyway. The young caucasian male, with the short, and spiky black hair adjusted his black frame glasses, and straightened out his jeans, making sure his belt was secure, and then throwing his red t-shirt over it, then hastily putting on his long sleeved flannel shirt, and a dark brown jacket to keep out the cold, as he threw on his dark blue sling backpack that held his school gear.

    He rubbed his blue eyes a bit, and tried to stifle a small yawn. He had spent a whole hour on some ice planet blasting away volcanic creatures for the local populace. And even though he finished quickly, he had strained himself rather well. But since his identity was secret and all, there was nothing to protect him from the wrath of his 'best friend ever,' Katrina. The one who was formerly in that douche, Tramiel's group before ditching them and taking up Grant as her personal slave.

    "Be right there, Katrina." He texted on his phone. "Crazy tired right now. had to exercise, then do a ton of chores."