Thomas Laythorpe
Forum Replies Created
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Name: Tom Laythorpe
Age:31
Personality: Tom is intelligent, charming and driven. He maintains a perpetual air of mocking bemusement even when he is moments away from death; however despite this togetherness Tom is incredibly impulsive and will indulge himself whenever he deems fit.
Tom is often at odds with figures of authority especially those who are meant to be feared; these relationships usually develop into feelings of mutual reverence. A master of the moirail and kismesis for those of you who understand that sort of thing.
Appearance: Laythorpe is about 6ft3, has short cropped black hair and wears glasses with a modernist thin frame. He is often dressed in his work clothes; a long flowing labcoat over a pair of cream trousers and a white shirt.
Game Player or Crime Fighter: Game Player
Angels or Devils: Angels
Powers: Tom’s two powers are super-strength/physical prowess and the ability to turn off sensations such as pain and the like (essentially keeping a constant clear head) [EDIT:It should be noted that when another character has the ability to invoke a particular emotion or feeling in Tom his power does let him shut it off; the effects aren’t fully stopped, nor are they repressed in that character, they can still use it on other people just with Tom the power is greatly reduced.]
Abilities/Bio: Tom is an Experimental Surgeon/Biochemist so has an expert, in-depth knowledge of organic chemistry and human physiology. He’s just really, really smart and has an amazing ability to adapt and improvise. ((I thought it was worth mentioning))
Living Arrangements: Tom is currently living in an uptown apartment by himself. He travels a lot so is usually just put where the company wants him.
Weapons: Usually has a scalpel or some form of easily concealed sharp implement on him.
Tattoo: His tattoo is in the middle of his right shoulder-pad but is usually completely covered by his clothes
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I agree to the rules
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Name: John Trent
Age: 29
Profession: John works in an Accounting Office, a job he’s had for 5 years now. He got it after being made redundant from a local newspaper which went bust.He has always wanted to be a writer and constantly writes the beginnings to stories, to date he hasn’t finished one.
Location: The Downtown 1-Bedroom Apartment is around the corner from the shop John is often frequenting.
The apartment itself is small, squalid and barely furnished; he used to share it with someone but that was a while ago now.
Alive: Yes
Appearance: John is of an average height, an average build and is by no way remarkable looks wise. He owns three shirts and three ties which he alternates throughout the week. At weekends he wears a hoodie he got from a concert a long time ago, usually with a pair of jeans. -
*Rosalind’s face is grim as she strides down the corridor.
She enters the building and looks around the silent nightmare, there are no fires just scorch marks where two loving parents had stood. She didn’t know what to expect really.*
‘Hello? Evan? I promise I’m not going to hurt you.’*She moves further into the apartment with caution, one wrong step could be Rosalind’s last.*
‘I know this looks bad but you won’t in trouble if you come with me!’
*She hears shuffling down the end of the hall and moves forward with a quick grace*
‘You’re scared, I get it. I would be too.’
‘Leave me alone!’
‘Evan, I can’t do that; you realise this don’t you.’
‘You’re going to take me away! I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!’*Children are always the hardest to bring in*
‘Evan, I’m going to open the door slowly.’
*She pulls a rubber glove out of her pocket and puts it on. She begins to turn the metal handle when all of a sudden she senses a nauseating wave of pressure.*
‘Evan, you said you don’t want to hurt anyone; don’t start now.’
*The door creaks open and Rosalind is met by a huge blast of electricity. The surge lasts for a few seconds and when it finishes Rosalind is apparently unscathed. In the center of the room a wide-eyed 8 year old boy is sobbing uncontrollably. Rosalind walks up to him, still smiling. All goes black.*
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Name:Rosalind
Age:23
Gender:FemalePersonality:Rosalind is kind, caring and thoughtful. Rosalind is clever, manipulative and spiteful. She will treat you kindly and is a genuinely caring person but if she’s wronged or angered she will not forget even if she has to wait for 20 years to get her revenge. Her ‘inspiration’ gives the best example where she goes on an amazing date with a man who believes she has forgotten him, the date ends with her almost shooting him. I’d say she’s a careful opportunist; she will seize an opportunity if she has one but will make sure she does so with a variety of plans in mind.
Appearance:Rosalind is a pretty Red-head with Green-Eyes. In terms of body shape/size Rosalind is about 5ft8 and quite athletic. Her clothes are fairly practical but she still tries to be quite stylish with her choice. With that in mind she usually wears jeans, a blue and white stripy shirt, a military jacket and a pair of boots.
Ability:Rosalind does not have the ability to generate electricity or absorb it. She can manipulate it though; if someone throws electricity at her she can deflect it or even redirect it back at them. She is also aware of where Voltage is applied (it is an electrical form of pressure really sort of maybe).
Her power does not involve being in contact with electricity, it’s more a humanisation of the LHR/RHR I guess. She is still affected like a normal human being when in direct contact but usually this isn’t a problem if she is aware of where it is as this means she’ll probably redirect it.
In terms of other abilities she has being trained to fight, is incredibly fit and agile and is incredibly intelligent making her a much more serious opponent than most would expect.
History: There is nothing necessarily special about Rosalind’s past. She learned to control her power very early on and joined the Police Force of her own volition. It’s her responsibility to bring people in when they lose control.
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The door opens and Isen is awoken by a steaming bucket of water. Someone barks something and Isen struggles to his feet, his hands and feet are manacled, he is dragged outside.
The sunlight is bright, too bright and he winces. The guards carry on dragging him through the camp to the clatter of metal and the whinnying of horses.
The tent he is brought to is bigger than the others, more regent with it’s ice blue banners flying in the cold wind. Inside the tent there is a small folding table, simple but useful, on the table there are maps, some old and dusty and others so new they’re only half finished. Standing around the table are two men and a woman. They are deep in discussion.
The one who finally addresses Isen is the last one to look up. ‘Luke! It’s being so long! We all were really worried about you.’ He looks to the other two who nod sternly in acknowledgement of his cue. ‘They say they found you in some backwater Human Colony. Mixing with the locals, Luke you never stop surprising me.’ The man chuckles to himself and approaches Isen with open arms. ‘But I have so many questions, first of all how are you?’ Isen looks at the manacles. ‘I know, I know but it’s just a formality, we can’t have you going on a rampage what with you not remembering us. Can’t afford the risk you see, this being the heart of the Northern Frelean Advance and all.’ Isen lets out a bored sigh. ‘I know this military stuff has always bored you Luk-’
‘My name is Isen and I really don’t care. Just put me back where you found me, with the locals, where I belong.’
‘I can’t do that I’m afraid. We encouraged them to keep quiet.’ He stops to see if he can illicit a response, when he seems satisfied he has he continues. ‘Harbouring a fugitive is illegal Isen even if it is you; especially if it is you but don’t look too upset, they’re only human.’
The General doesn’t wipe the spit off his face until after he has slapped Isen. ‘How dare you spit on me. You are my guest, Luke. My fucking guest.’’ Isen wasn’t expecting to be hit, he didn’t really know why but it still caught him offguard.
‘I have plans for you Luke, now we’ve got you back you’re going to fight for us and I want you to try an be a valuable addition, I want you to try and be indispensable to me and most of all I want you to be a good fucking soldier. That’s why I’m sending you to Green’s platoon. If he doesn’t break you then I’ll have no choice but to kill you. Do you understand me?’ The General lifts Isen’s head up and stares intensely for what seems an eternity. ‘Do you fucking understand m-’ This time the general does bother to wipe the spit off first. He takes his time as well.
The many take their turn,
Forgetting they’re in a game,
Clinging on for life.‘You always were an utter bastard, Luke. I suggest you take a little more time to acclimatise to this life.’ The General motions him away and he is dragged back to hell.
‘Have fun, Isen.’ A voice from nowhere in particular says.
((I’m gonna try and do this weekly, or regularly, or semi regularly. I’ll try, Honestly, Truly, I promise; Sort of.))
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You are walking. You are happy when you walk. When you walk you are in an endless corridor.
The sunlight plays through the window and it feels good; the warmth on you skin. ‘That’s not fair!’ A child shouts and you move your chess piece back into place. The game has being going on for hours but bless him he’s only young. Who is he though?
Why, he’s your son. Daniel. Your son; Daniel. YOUR SON: DANIEL. You recall this information and scold yourself for almost forgetting it. Your son, Daniel, is only eight years old so you don’t expect him to win; you still give him a chance though. You play to his rules; ‘No moving your queen diagonally’, ‘You can’t take my King for 5 turns.’ While frustrating in any other situation right here and now it is endearing. It makes you love him even more.
‘Luke.’ You turn and see a man blocking the light, his face difficult to make out. ‘Luke, if you say no we will not hesitate. You’ll always have a choice but remember what you choose has consequences.’
‘Who the hell are you?’ You ask.
‘Choose Luke, help us win, kill for us. You’re good at it but you’ll be no good if we force you. All that experience, gone. You have to choose to help us.’
‘No.’
The silence is cut by a child’s voice.
‘But Dad. Why?’ Daniel is crying now. He just isn’t stopping. He can’t hold back the tears.
Neither can you because you’ve just realised he isn’t crying. He’s bleeding. He is dying in front of you and you can’t do a thing. You are helpless. You are useless. You killed him, your own son, and you let him die.
‘Luke, you’ve got to choose to help us.’
You want to say no but the sight of his blood cascading down stops you. Why is it so slow? Why doesn’t he bleed quickly? Why is he suffering? You ask yourself all these questions and more. So many fucking questions.
‘But you chose this Luke.’
You are playing chess with yourself. It doesn’t matter. It never did. Your choice was an illusion as was your consequence. You chose this life. This cold eternity. They made sure you did. They’d never let you pretend.
I make a move in
The endless game and from it
Comes the smell of death.The all consuming cycle.
Somewhere a door opens and you are found again; covered in blood and so cold. -
((My next post will be large. I apologise.))
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*Isen is waiting outside the door for her.*
How fucking dare you.
Do you even realise what you’ve done?
Do you realise how stupid you’ve being.
Trying to play the Big Bad Ice Girl who can kill a man on a whim but that’s all you are; a girl. A lonely little girl who is upset when she doesn’t get her way.
I don’t care if you’re a hundred years old or a thousand what you have just done is cruel, violent and altogether just plain childish.
Oh and I really wouldn’t expect Kane to be any help. Not after that sickening display. God knows he probably already hates us.
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*There is a shocked silence across the room.
Isen feels his hands growing colder.
People start throwing things, anything, cups, plates; even fucking banana peels.
Not all the items are thrown at Ava, some hit Isen.
In the background a woman is crying.
He doesn’t use his powers to protect himself. He just raises his arm. He has experienced hate before. He knows he is not loved for who he is.
But Fucking Ava. How damn self-entitled.
He looks to the man’s body. It’s just not fucking right
Not right at all.
She’s enjoying this
It’s getting out of hand
So
Stop it.
He lets loose two thick sheets of ice through the cafe blocking Ava off from the humans.
Isen stares at Ava, says nothing and walks out of the door.*
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*There is a deadly silence and now more people have stood up. It’s not just men, women as well. Their snarls even more venomous.*
Ava don-
* Ice Bitch A disembodied voice whispers a little too loudly*
Ava, /please/ don’t. Please don’t hurt these people.
*He turns slowly and cautiously*
We’ve paid for our food. We don’t want any trouble.
*The man stares long and hard at Isen.*
You’ve got trouble. You and your Ice Whore aren’t welcome in this town.
You don’t belong here and we don’t want you so get out you Frozen /Freaks/.
*The growing mob grumbles in agreement*
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*As Isen opens the door a gob of spit lands at his feet. He looks around to find the source and sitting there right in front of him is a human. This human is a man and he is big. He looks like the kind of big man who doesn’t like different folk. It looks like they unnerve him. Isen looks around the cafe. All these folk seem unnerved.
He turns back to the door but feels a hand on his shoulder.
Time begins to slow.
The hand is clearly the man’s.
He is quite strong but wouldn’t stand up against a cold one by himself.
There’s the scraping of a few chairs.
Looks like he isn’t alone.*
Now what?
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*Isen looks down*
I think it’s probably best I turn in for the night. We’ll meet at the usual place.
*He gets up and walks to the door*
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*He starts laughing with a look of incredibility on his face*
You tried turning Monkeys?
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Then why did you choose a Blueberry Sorbet?