(Add on) Generation XV

Sort of like Home under Fire, I guess, only this is a new one. Have as many characters as you like, as long as you keep track of them all.

Rules:

• No gore
• No cussing
• No innapropriate romance
• As many chars as you like -- as long as you can keep track of them all
• No killing another's character without their permission
• You must have fun
• Characters must be good or bad, or innocents
• You must include everyone's characters at some point
• As many sub-plots as needed, but they must all spin into the central theme.
• You must follow all the rules

Basically, the MEC (Mutant Erandication Council) has come up with the stereotyped answer to the 'Mutant Problem' -- to get rid of them all. Armies are mobilised, towns emptied and mutants executed all over the globe. Jails are packed with Mutant-associated prisoners, an the world is in Chaos as governments try to follow the UN's resolution and 'get rid' of what was now often called Generation XV.

This was the world Ilse Vannon was born into, on June 16th, 2020. And now, in 2039, she is running from those who would kill her in her own land. All because of genetics.

NAME: Ilse Vannon

CODE NAME: Page

AGE: 19

APPEARANCE: rather nondescript -- dark hair streaked with copper, and green-flecked gold eyes ring'd with blue.

PERSONALITY: TBR

ABILITIES: Super-speed, molecular manipulation, Touch of Death and Type shift.

HISTORY: Born to a wealthy family, she was forced to run for it when she was discovered to have mutant powers. Her entire family was jailed except her brother, a year older than her, who is missing and presumed dead.

~~~~~

NAME: Chris Vannon

CODE NAME: Shadow

AGE: 20

APPEARANCE: Hardly ever seen, he appears like a vague shadow usually. When he is not using his powers, he looks like his sister -- dark brown hair and green-gold eyes.

PERSONALITY: brainwashed

ABILITIES: Super-speed, norm-shift, guise, molecular manipulation.

HISTORY: Same as Ilse's, only he was caught and brainwashed by the MEC and is used to discover other mutants. His future is bleak -- to be killed by the MEC after he has out-lived his usefulness.

ABILITIES:

Super-speed:- Running or moving extremely fast.

Molecular manipulation:- A form of telekinesis that can rearrange the molecules in objects to the wielder's desire.

Touch of Death:- Ability to cause the electricity in a subject's body to short ciruit. The nervous system, including brain tissue, essentially is destroyed. The subject must be touched for this power to be wielded.

Type-shift: Ability to change into any morph of a certain type, such as any birds, or lizards, or horses, or dinosaurs, etc. This is an uncommon power but far more common than the polymorph. The range of shapes available vary widely among people with this power, with some people restricted to a certain Genus while others may select any from a certain Family, Superfamily, or Order. The range available always includes the wielder's "base morph".

Norm-shift:- The ability to become the full animal shape of whatever morph the wielder is. Someone who is part fox, for instance, can become what is to all senses a normal fox. This power is mildly dangerous to the wielder, in that instincts are much more prominent when in animal form. There is also the danger of the wielder losing their mind to the animal, although this danger can be reduced greatly with practice.

Guise: Ability to cloak oneself in shadow or darkness. To the casual eye, the wielder is not there. The practised eye will sense it as the eye is drawn inwards to where there appears nothing.

Whew! There's over 200 different types of abilities if you guys want to know them, pm me and I'll send you the site.

Okay guys, let's not have more than 5 powers for each character, please? And Grimr, would you mind changing those powers to something else? I posted the list of powers on the OF site. We need more variety, methinks. I chose these so that they'd be different. Molecular manipulation is common so that's ok, and I guess superspeed is too, but . . . it's more believable if they all have different powers.

~~~~~

The tiny sparrow chirped a bar of it's harmonious spring tune, trilling on the last note as it watched the soldiers out of a bright beady eye. Middle C, it reminded itself as its song faltered momentarily. The next note is middle C! Jauntily, the sparrow watched the soldiers out of sight, and then with a flutter of brown wings, a girl stood beneath the cherry tree, stroking one of its velvety blossoms. She sang softly, the words drifting away on the breeze, and she held the middle C with a vengeance until, finally, it trailed off in a soft sob.

Ilse Vannon stood still under the orchard row, her eyes glistening with tears and her hands trembling. She strained forward suddenly, and she whistled sharply. The speck on the horizon dropped sharply into the shape of a kestral, that landed on her outstretched arm, covered in a pliant white hide. It ruffled its feathers and they locked eyes for a moment. Just a moment, and then it was gone, but Ilse had gotten its message.

Her sister had been executed.

Angrily, she threw the fragrant blossom to the earth and stamped on it, her heel crushing the pale petals. She strode three steps forwards and a startling transformation overcame her. Her great golden eyes snapped open and her arms lengthened into the wingspan of a great eagle. Her face altered little, only it became hawk-like and fierce. When she opened her mouth, the sharp cry of an eagle tore itself from her throat.

She performed a dance of rage on the hillock, her wings stretched wide and her golden crest rising. The wind tore at her in gusts, and she took to the air like a duck to water, graceful as a swan but deadly as a striking rattler. At her call, a hundred lesser birds flocked towards her, and they fluttered and cawed and shrieked their fury at the death of one of their own.

Then Page left the ground, her incredible reflexes shooting her far into the blue sky, seen only as a faint blur if the farmers looked at all.

The prison was twenty miles away. It should have taken her half-an-hour to fly there, but it took her two. Within seconds, the place was choas. She plunged among the guards, scattering them like bowling pins. They fled from her, screaming before they found the air around them turned to metal cages as she stood above them. Frightened prisoners siezed their formor captors' weapons and turned them on themselves in fear to meet the eagle in her wrath. Her talons clasped the last soldier's broken body above the compound, before she let it drop, a still crumpled heap on the drive.

An eerie silence descended on the area. In their haste to escape, many guards had slain their captives and fled through the bushes only to meet the horde of allied birds and other animals.

Suddenly exhausted, Ilse metomorphosized back to her normal self, the crimson wrath leaving her senses clouded and dull. She brushed a heavy lock of brown hair from her eyes and almost collapsed against a gravestone . . . she turned and caught the name . . . Isaac and Tara Vannon. A grave over, Nara Vannon. She cried tears then, heavy drops that splashed scarlet on the rocks. *

Aeva found her there, scratches reaching up her arms and her head buried in her hands. (is that okay?). She reached out a quivering hand and touched her.

Ilse jumped away, startled. They stared at each other for a long while, and then Aeva took her arm and guided her away, saying, "We cannot wait long. They will come when no news arrives."

Ilse nodded dumbly and dashed the tears from her eyes, determined not to cry again. As she clenched her hands, she found she could not speak. Nor did she, ever in that year. She was dumb and silent. She followed Aeva, her feet rustling softly on the dry grass.

We . . . .

Ilse recoiled from all human contact. When Aeva approached her, she drew away, her eyes huge and fearful. "Come on," Aeva said softly, as if to a child. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Ilse nodded slowly and shut her eyes, clasping her knees to her chest and balling her fists. The unshed tears burned in her eyes but she was resolute. She would not cry.

Aeva didn't fully understand, although she was kind. How could she know that my entire family was executed? she demanded of herself, trying to see past the kindness. What are her motives? She doesn't even know where I come from. And with a touch of irony, she added mentally, She found me in the bloodwrath, a girl with wings instead of arms and hawk features.

Aeva gave up trying to draw her out. She sensed that Ilse was distancing herself from everyone, trying to insulate herself. She got to her feet and rested her hand on Ilse's arm. They looked steadily at each other until Jason entered.

He nodded towards Ilse. "Where'd you find her?"

Aeva noticed the hurt in the gold-eyed girl. "She decimated the prison guards alone. She was a wonderful and terrible sight at once."

"Aye," Jason agreed, "I found them after you left. I buried them and cleaned up the place a bit. They won't track us back here, I promise."

Aeva was relieved. "I didn't have time to wipe out the tracks . . . thanks."

Jason nodded and went into an adjoining room, and she turned to the small kitchenette, where some milk was bubbling gently in a saucepan. "Oops," she said to herself. "I think I burnt the hot chocolate." She noticed Ilse's eyes flicker questioningly, and she answered the unvoiced question. "Yep, we do have some luxuries, even here. Our contacts see to that."

Ilse uncurled and stretched her long arms out, yawning slightly. Aeva watched her shrewdly, then said "Come sit at the table, you are too freshly grieved to lie on the floor."

What does she know about grief? Ilse thought. Then, she got to her feet and moved to the table, pulling two chairs back in one graceful movement. She might be a bird-morph, but she moved like a cat. Her plaintive look was clear.

Aeva smiled and poured two cups of hot milk, adding chocolate powder until it was just right. She put the milk onto the back of the stove, in case Jason appeared. "Powdered milk and powdered chocolate," she mused to herself in the silence. "Still, it tastes all right."

Ilse recieved her mug with a grimace of gratefulness, her eyes showing that she longed to voice her thanks. She sipped it gingerly and smiled, the great gold-green eyes watching Aeva anxiously. She knew little about these people, but --

"Come, it's time we introduced you to the others of COMRIUSA," Aeva told her. "The Council of Mutant Resistance in the United States of America."

~~~~~

sorry, got to cut it short . . . making cookies. bubye!

Uh . . . Ilse can't talk. Just so you know.