The Vanguard: Birth Of Heroes

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Hillan, Jun 18, 2014.

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  1. Undisclosed Location – Dusk – Sometime during 2045

    You gently open the door, notebook in hand. It's only you, and the man you're interviewing. You don't know his name, and you don't know what he used to be called. All you know is that he's the one who has the scoop on The Vanguard. And it's your chance, as a writer, to tell his story. You're anxious. Incredibly much so, in fact. Your hands tremble ever so slightly when you close the door behind you. The room's well lit, the fireplace lighting up the room and giving it a cozy and homey feeling.

    You move towards the man, who's sitting with his back turned to you in a big chair, a glass of scotch in his hand. He signals for you to sit down next to him, on a similar chair. You sit down, pen and paper in hand. His hands are rough, like he's been using them all of his life, you can only imagine that it's the same kind of hands a knight had back in the medieval times. The man pours you a drink, you don't drink scotch usually, but his calm and confident aura, and thinking about how much you need this piece, makes you thank him for the drink, you take a sip off it, and find that it's the tastiest scotch you've ever had.

    You look at his face, it's got a couple scars, his face is rough, but yet, he doesn't look older than 35. His hair is short, but still fairly stylish, in a kind of strawberry blond color. He wears a dress shirt, and a pair of matching pants and shoes, he looks comfortable, but still a little out of place in his clothes. He turns his eyes at you, the blue, almost gray-iris looking into yours, and you can see something in his eyes. Something you've never seen before. Then, his face cracks into a smile, as he opens up his mouth to speak. His voice is soothing as he says

    “Hello. I'm Glad you wanted to see me.”

    You nod your head, thinking to yourself, why would he be the one to thank you? He's the one doing you a huge favor. “P-Pleased to meet you, sir.”

    “I take it you're not here to enjoy the fireplace, or to enjoy a nice bottle of scotch, now, are you?”

    “N-No, sir. I'm here regarding the book about the Vanguard, sir.” You say, motioning with your pen, making it obvious that you're here to take notes. The man let's out a soft chuckle. “Grand.”

    “So, shall we begin?” He said, refilling his glass. “It all began in 2013, that's quite some time ago, heh. A bank robbery had made the papers in Port City. But it wasn't just the average bank robbery, no, it was the nineth. They had hit banks in eight other cities before, across seven states before coming to Port City. They were called The Construction Crew, silly name, I know. But they were the real deal, hardened criminals, and they were dangerous.

    Bank Of America – Port City: Business District – 1:49 A.M – 9th of September, 2013

    The bank was silent, the only sound being the light taps of the 39 year old security guard, Mike Burtowski, walking with his newly polished shoes on the fine floor of the bank. He was listening to the newest album from Arcade fire on his ipod, naturally, with only one bud in his ear. Mike made the rounds around the front door, checked the offices, and checked the break-room, he only had to make it past the vault, before he could make it back to the security office, where there was a cup of coffee, some donuts, and the latest issue of 'Busty Asian Beauties” waiting for him.

    Mike was humming with in the song, he wasn't really one for the indie scene, but ever since he was introduced to the band, he had been hooked. He casually walked towards the vault, where he heard a soft sound in the distance, like a mild buzz, almost like a bug buzzing on a window. He pulled the bud out of his hear, heading towards the sound, it came from the vault. He walked slowly, calmly, hunching down a little, his left hand on his gun in it's holster.

    He headed towards the vault, but as he was about the enter, he hard a sound, from the staircase, diagonally above him. “Psst.” And as he turned around, he saw a green light spark, with a light click, it looking like it came from a pair of goggles, before he could get his gun out of his holster, he heard a violent crash, from his right, followed by a sound that he associated with shooting bow and arrow back at summer camp, from when he was a kid. He felt a sharp piece of metal hit his arm, sending him off balance. And then from just outside the vault-room, he saw three more green-eyes lit up, followed by three more flicks, and sharp pieces of metal hitting him, one in his gut, on in his left thigh, one in his chest, Mike fell down to the ground, hemorrhaging, feeling the warmth and wetness of his own blood pooling around him, he heard footsteps, and inaudible words, that would've come from his assailants.

    He saw a black boot, a typical worker boot on his left, followed by looking down the sights of what appeared to be a nailgun, before the last sound he would ever hear would echo, as the metal nail would be fired from the weapon.


    Port City: Harbor – Erin Baxters Apartment – 9:15 A.M

    Jason softly opened his eyes, stretching a little bit, laying his arm around the College Freshman that he had spent the night with. She was a brunette, and into her second week of college. She was 5'6 tall, and she had a smoking body, she was smart, and she was funny, and just like Jason, she loved Dukes Of Hazard. A real catch, there was only one problem. Well, in fact, two problems. First, and foremost, Jason couldn't recall her name, and well, the second problem wasn't really relevant, so Jason's thoughts quickly went on to try and think of her name, she let out a soft groan as she woke up, her nails gently scratching Jason's chest, and ribs, before she opened her brown eyes.

    She looked up at him, and smiled, stretching herself to kiss him. “Good morning” She said, as Jason smiled, and nodded in response, too occupied with trying to figure out her name to actually say something. The girl sat up in the bed, and put on her undergarments, and a T-shirt that was laying on the floor. “I'm going to take a shower. There's quick-coffee in the kitchen if you want to make some.. Or, you can always join me.” She said, with a soft smile, Jason nodded “Yeah, gimme a minute.” He said, sitting up in the bed, putting on his pants. Jennifer?... Jenny?.. Kristen? Vera?.. I really can't remember... He thought to himself,

    As he got dressed, he heard a car-engine turn off outside of the bedroom window, and a car door slam. Followed by the shower being turned off, and the bathroom door opening. The girl came out, wearing only a towel, looking incredibly worried, like she wanted to yell, but she couldn't. “My Boyfriend's home early, crap, I thought he'd be away at bootcamp for the whole week. You've gotta get out, Jason, Jeff will kill you!”

    Jason rubbed his head, Oh, right. Second problem. Her boyfriend's a gunnut and in a private militia.. And named Jeff.. Jeff and... Oh, shit, yeah! He thought to himself, as he smiled, “Don't worry, Erin. I'll be fine.” He said, putting on his T-shirt, and buttoning his pants, quickly putting on his converse over his feet. Erin was trying to rush him out of the apartment, before Jeff could make it up the stairway, but just as Jason was about the leave the bedroom, he saw his hat laying on the pillow. Jason quickly grabbed it, revealing underneath a set of handcuffs. He chuckled to himself, put the cap on, and walked towards the door, gave Erin a kiss goodbye, only to hear the knob on the door turn. Jason quickly dashed to the side, into the living room, to the open window, where he threw himself off onto the fire-escape. Hanging onto the fire-escape with one hand, quickly grabbing hold with the other one, swinging himself onto the platform below.

    Once on the ground, he picked up his phone, making sure he had Erin's number. “Handcuff girl is now changed to Erin – The Handcuff Girl. Ya'll in this city's crazy.” He said ,with a smile on his face, heading back to his apartment, where he'd take a shower before his class would start at eleven, well, the class he was gonna go to, at least.
  2. FERROUS, #0059b3
    The steel roof seemed to explode beneath Ezekiel 'Zeke' Jernigan as he ran frantically atop of, covering his face with his arms while bullets ripped through the sheet metal beneath him. Shrapnel flew in every which direction as the bullets seemingly curved around Zeke's bio-magnetic field changed their path, directing them away from his body. With the automated weapons fire showing no sign of stopping and Zeke quickly running out of roof to run along he was going to have to make a choice soon as he began to curse loudly to himself.

    "Damnit, damnit, damnit!" He had no time to hesitate as he jumped, his body seemed to pull itself towards the metal siding of the next warehouse as he collided hard against the side of the building. Expecting to plunge to the ground at any second, Zeke let out a groan as he opened the eyes he had hastily forced shut only to realize he was staying put, his body holding firmly against the wall.

    "That's cool." He muttered as he raised on hand over his head, a tingling sensation radiating through him as he placed it against the siding before, repeating the motion with his other hand as he slowly scaled his way to the top of the second building. Breathing heavily, he pulled himself on top of the structure coming face to face with the dawn's first rays of sunlight. Looking down at his hands, Zeke flexed his fingers muttering aloud to himself.

    "My powers are getting stronger." The angry cries of the gang bangers whoever broke up Zeke's monologue as he heard men shouting to check that he was dead. Opting to not stick around for an actual bullet in his body, Zeke pushed his body into a run again despite its heavy resistance. His lungs were burning worse than they ever had after a track meet, but he supposed that was the consequences of an all night 'crime-fight' session. 'Fighting' being the opportune word here as Zeke didn't so much stop any crime as he had merely angered a hornet's nest of 24th Street Kings.

    Finding a ladder, Zeke slid down it quickly before ducking between a few buildings and making his way back to the alley where he had stowed his bike. Pulling the heavy tarp off the bike, Zeke pulled the bandanna away from his mouth and took the ball cap off his head before fastening his helmet on. With sun finally up, it was definitely time to hit the hay. Leaving the Glades behind him, Zeke maneuvered his motorcycle quickly along the city's various side roads, avoiding the speed traps laid out by the police on the city's central routes. Port City's police couldn't even catch speeders let alone real criminals.

    Pulling onto his college's campus, Zeke made his way towards his dorm's parking area before leaving his bike and headed up into his room. Opening the door, he pulled off his clothes quickly before flopping into his bed and closing his eyes. No sooner had he done that than his alarm went off, the aggressive beeping echoing through the small space as Zeke rolled over and groaned.

    Today was his calculus test and he hadn't studied. Shrugging he sat up, reaching for his books as he looked at the clock. The test started in half an hour.

    "Eh, I've got time to cram."
  3. Port City: Harbor - Streets | 8.45am

    Down in the streets by the harbor a young woman was running. She had gotten up about an hour ago, took a quick shower, got dressed, and had a healthy breakfast. A slice of bread, lettuce, brie, walnuts, and honey. More than enough to get her through the morning.
    In exactly forty-five minutes from now her first class would start, so that left her plenty of time to go on a run. And so she had been doing, starting at 8.30am back at her parents' home.
    Still living at home had its ups, and its downs. For one, it made it easier with all the costs she had to take care of, but... then there were the rules. And the fact that her mother didn't mind putting a little extra grease in the food that they ate at home. So most of what she ate, she prepared herself.

    Not that that ever had really been a problem. Now, donning a pair of yoga pants, tightly fitted light purple shirt, running shoes, and her hair in a high ponytail Rosetta was making her way down the still relatively quiet streets in a calm jog. A heart rate monitor was secured firmly below her sports bra, linked to the Nike sports watch on her right wrist, indicating her speed, heart rate, and distance she had run so far. Her water bottle was the only other thing she had on hand, literally.
    She soaked it in, this perfect morning, not at all aware of the robbery earlier, or the dangers that lurked further up in the city. With a calm beat of the music coming from her in-ears setting the tone, the blonde left her familiar streets to incorporate a slightly different route than normal. Change was fun, once in a while.

    Going about her ways she drifted off into her own world, ignoring the people she passed, as she thought about the upcoming production of the company. Sleeping Beauty. A lovely classic tale, one where Rosetta would dearly wish to someday play the part of Aurora. For now however, she would probably be one of the guests at Aurora's birthday, or maybe if she was lucky one of the smaller groups near the end of the piece. No solos for her just yet. A girl could dream of course.
    Then again, with the recent strange happenings with how water behaved near her, she had a nagging fear that what roles she might play in a piece might not be her biggest worries.
    Half tempted to try out manipulating water again the ballet dancer looked at her water bottle.

    No, not out here lest someone see her and somehow compromise her. Not having people notice it when it happens by accident was bad enough as it was, and didn't need to be amplified by deliberately using her newfound powers out in the open.
    Ondine.... That name just kept ringing in her head. Probably due to the piece they had just finished producing, but also because Roset found it strangely befitting. The power to manipulate water. A kind of... superpower. And as few comics that she had read in her entire life, one thing she did know. If one person had a power, more people did, good guys, bad guys, and they all got special names. Even though she didn't exactly fit the bill of being a superhero, and she had no interest in being one at this point, having a secret identity? That gave her welcome jitters.
  4. 8:55 AM

    Allison had time before her 10am Bio class and decided that a workout was in order. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail wearing black yoga pants and a black tank top danced around the heavy bag chained to a beam in her basement. She brought her red boxing gloves up and gave the bag a quick one-two. She gave it another one-two with a little more pop in her motion and began to breath a little heavier. Allison gave a little bit of a grunt as she threw a solid right jab and then ducked as though she was evading a punch and threw a left hook.

    Then a bell chimed and Allison looked over at where the sound was coming from. The clock read 00:00 and Allison nodded as she said, "Not a bad way to spend about 45 minutes." She took her gloves off and gave the bag a lite tap and said, "Thanks for the workout." Allison dropped her gloves to the floor and grabbed a water bottle sitting on top of the washing machine. Allison took a long drink and began to head up stairs.

    As she walked past the kitchen table she grabbed her phone and put the bottle down. Allison saw that she had an e-mail from Lenny Scott the managing editor of the local paper. Allison felt her heart skip a beat as she let out a small exhale as she said, "Come on Allie it's only your future." Allison opened the e-mail and her eyes quickly scanned the e-mail as she was searching for one phrase. Allison found it and let out a scream of unbridled joy. She shouted as she jumped around in the kitchen, "YES! YES!YES!" Allison had just found out that she was still in the running for the part-time photographer's position, and that Lenny would be on campus tomorrow to meet with her during lunch.

    Allison put the phone down and was almost skipping down the hall. She stopped for a moment in front of a picture of her and her parents when she graduated high-school. She smiled and said, "Your little girl is on her way. I promise though I will find your killers and bring them to justice. That vow has not changed, but I gotta have a life too. I hope both understand. I love you and I miss you."

    Allison went into her bedroom and began to get undressed to take a shower. For slowly and carefully she took her tank-top off. There were two occasions where she very hurriedly took off her shirt and hit the earrings just right. Which activated her powers and needless to say not only was she not ready for that, but Allison wasn't too happy about that either.

    Once she got her shower Allison slipped into her favorite blue-jeans and lime green golf shirt. On her way past the kitchen she grabbed a breakfast bar and a diet soda. Allison said, "Breakfast of champions." Allison picked her phone up and saw that she had another e-mail this one from Professor Boorman her advanced photography instructor. The e-mail read, "Lenny e-mailed me too. Congrats Allie! Talk to you tomorrow after the interview. --Jack."

    This made Allison smile as she said, "Oh yeah Allie you are on a roll."

    With that Allison got in her car and headed off to class.
  5. Port City - Harbor District, St. Gloriana Academy, 7:00-8:45 AM

    Emma had her usual morning routine. She woke up bright and early, and the traditional argument over who got the first shower between she and her roommate ended in her favor. She showered, dressed, and made sure she looked presentable. As usual for a Monday, it was a rough start after the later nights and free time of a weekend. No big adventures, but even so, the sudden shift back to early mornings takes its toll. The dining hall had the usual hot and cold breakfast options, of which Emma availed herself, taking her usual combination of fried eggs, bacon, and milk. She was always certain to be awake early enough to actually enjoy her meal and chat with friends, rater than wolf it down right before class.

    The usual conversations and gossip floated around the dining hall. Who was dating whom, how the classes were going, which teachers were the worst... Emma drank it all in as she looked for her friends, and quickly joined her own lovely conversation about what everyone had done over the weekend. "Man...that history assignment was a real killer," she complained right off the bat. "It's not even that far into things and already, the homework's really piling up. I didn't get to do anything fun the whole weekend."

    "Yeah, right," one of her friends countered, "you probably got it done right away and spent the rest of the weekend wandering around town like you always do." Some laughter was shared around the table. Emma's habits were no secret, and she was somewhat infamous in some circles as something of a troublemaker. Or someone who goes looking for trouble, for what difference that makes.

    "No, I'm serious. If I got up to something interesting, I'd either be telling you guys about it, or be even more evasive." Emma sighed. She was used to the friendly ribbing by now. The mealtime small talk continued for a while, and the group slowly dissolved one by one, as each member finished her meal. Once she finished, Emma got her things together and carried her tray in. Classes would start soon, and there wasn't any reason to be late, so she hurried off for another day of quality education.
  6. Port City, Granski Apartments - 4:00AM (est.)

    When the accelerator exploded and you got caught in the blast, it merged with your physiology and I truly wish I could explain why or how as the only thing I have in front of me is that it did, Sam. What confounds me is that there is no reason I can comprehend to as of how it is even possible for what has happened. Given the study’s results that you for some reason want undisclosed to my boss it seems clear that the energy has manifested with your immune system and metabolic cycle which explains why you’ve been sleeping less; if you don’t use the energy the sun is giving you, you won’t be sleeping much or healing slowly which was all the more obvious when you went through life-changing burn wounds in the matter of days at the hospital. Unless you allow me to study it more there’s nothing else I can really tell you.

    The words of Dr. Katelyn Townes echoed in Samantha Clarke’s head as she sat outside of her apartment at four in the morning. It wasn’t that she had insomnia by traditional definitions but rather that it was physically impossible for her to go to sleep due to the entire fact that apparently the solar energy she had gathered for however long since the accident had overridden her metabolic ability as Dr. Townes had told her. So in the reality of now, she wasn’t sleeping and it was a bit difficult to adapt when she was used to sleeping for six-to-eight hours on end every day… for the most part. Being unable to sleep she had taken to bringing her sketchbook outside with her. Her art was one of the few “coping mechanisms” Sami had given her entire experience which for the most part was traumatic. How exactly do you get past the burning aching sort-of unbearable pain of an accelerator exploding with you right next to it?

    Her state of mind had been effecting her drawings and paintings a lot—which was something that was blatant as all hell. Themes of death, rebirth, and some more death were all the ever more prevalent with her artistic expression which was something that honestly disturbed her a little. She hadn’t drawn something so dark since she was five years old after the fallout of her mother’s death in the line of duty which was an obvious darkness she had dealt with for the majority of her life. It’s a little depressing to remember that the most of what she could coherently recall about her mother were from old camcorder tapes that captured her personality through small moments of happiness which also showed a less distant and closed-off version of her father. So as she stood here in the morning darkness as the sun had yet to rise she began to dwell on these thoughts as the graphite of her pencil began to sketch an abstract sort of visualization of her feelings of recalling her mother, the sensation of near-death of the accelerator, and the pondering thoughts of her body being warped into something alien and strange.

    A gunshot rang out in the distance and Sami slightly jumped at the sound—still not very much used to living in an area that was less “safe” then the previous one she had lived with. After an argument with her father after graduation she had left to be ‘independent’ and this was the best she could get without exerting her finances. It was also relatively close to her liberal arts college; about a half-hour trek on bicycle or a ten-to-fifteen minute drive in automobile.

    Sami didn’t say a word as she twirled her pencil in-between her right ear and folded up her sketchbook.

    She was going to go back inside until the sun rose.
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