[J][Pa][Pw] Unequal Treatment - Registration Act

[SaRo|Rapidash]

Quinn was at his favourite spot in hell - on top of the highest mound of junk in the junkyard - etching a pattern into his shock collar, still disgusted at the horrific design of the things, surveying the area for anything interesting. There was nothing, except a bright light suddenly appeared a few hundred yards from him, and, seeing as he had little better to do in this dump, he stopped etching his collar and half-jogged half-danced towards the light. Quinn had a habit of walking as if dancing, it made him feel like life was as it was, even if he knew that weren't true.

He got toward the bottom of the hill momentarily and heard the faint sound of 'Hello?' coming from the rough area he'd seen the light. Too far to be refering to him, but regardless he headed toward the voice.

[The Shrub Dragon]

Verity shifted uncomfortably as the large, rusting frame of an old bike dug into her shoulder blades.  She hated the yard at night - there was always too much to trip over and too little to do other than make sure she didn't die in the night.  Which was - okay - a bit of an exaggeration, but when winter began to tint the trees bare and all she had to shield herself from the rain were scraps of metal - if that - it felt like it sometimes.  She shivered and drew her knees up to her chest, rolling her head against the shock-collar as she did so.  Heck, it was uncomfortable.  And it itched.  She wondered - very briefly - what would happen if she was actually a dog.

"Not a lot," she murmured, "The government don't have a problem with dogs."

Light flashed across the scrapyard and Verity drew a hand up to her face, eyes widening and then scrunching into raisins as she adjusted to the change in light. "Aw, heck!" she whispered, and craned her neck around to see if she could get a glimpse of whoever had decided to blind everyone within a ten metre radius.  She struggled up into a kneeling position to see the back of an unmistakably male figure.  She scowled.  If he came anywhere near her, he would definitely get a talking to. 

[The Macintosh Ninja: SOH CAH TOA]

((Probably one of my shorter forms. I'll lengthen it if asked.))

Name: Jack Samson
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Equipment:
-Smith & Wesson Model 1006, modified with attachable silencer. Fires tranquilizer rounds.
-Simple hunting knife, used to cut rope or slash at attackers.
-Taser, for disabling.
-Special issue handcuffs, for apprehending Metahumans with a variety of powers.

Personality: Jack is a soldier. He knows his role in the world: follow his orders. He knows his life is one of battle and fighting, and that the only way he can leave "The Battle" is in a body bag. He is loyal to his country and his people, which is why he does what he does. He isn't clueless to the situation regarding the Metahumans: he knows very well that they are sinners and saints. They are good and evil, right and wrong. He works for Metahuman Control solely to stop those who seek to harm the public. Jack doesn't have much of a life outside of The Battle; he lives alone in a single bedroom house where he cooks meals he sees on televised cooking shows, trains in what could be called a personal gym if it were larger and had better equipment, and cares for a tarantula he calls "Major Tom". He's reserved; a man with a mission and a moral code.

Appearance: A bit over 6 feet tall, with a muscular build. He has dark gray hair, a light beard, and a scar running horizontally across his cheek from an injury sustained a long time ago. He looks haggard, like a man ready to retire. His eyes, a dark brown color, don't have the brightness many others do, though he never seems to be looking directly at people. The way he carries himself suggests he was energetic in his youth, but years in service have taken much of his energy away. His arms have some scars and cuts from training and the missions he's taken. He is part of a small group specializing in "capture" missions designed to apprehend the more criminal Metahumans. The uniform consists of an olive drab jumpsuit, black fingerless gloves that pad the forearms, belts to carry equipment, and an accessory unique to each member. In Jack's case, he has a camo bandana tied around his right arm, near his shoulder.

History: Jack joined the military after graduating with a degree in engineering. He served for sometime before taking an opportunity to join a specialized unit. The unit was to serve as a liaison between the government and the military. Training consisted of close quarters combat, human psychology courses, and more advanced combat situations to ensure soldiers were well equipped to handle opponents who could "bench press a mountain or shoot lasers out of their ears" (as a sergeant put it). He was assigned to a position in Detroit, where he would work for Wahl Securities Ltd as a "bounty hunter" of sorts.

Other: Prefers a nonviolent method to his work. He can take quite a beating before going down, which makes him ideal for one-on-one encounters with the more violent Metahumans.

[Pichu!!]

((Name:Ilum Aatrox
Age:11
Gender: Male
Powers: Not Yet Manifested (messaged!)
Personality:
Although he has been gently loved and cared for since the age of 5, Ilum seems to be in a constant state where he is responding at a pre-school cognitive level. He communicates through grunts, squeaks and squeals, often using body language to determine what he wants. If something interests him, he will explore it through touch, taste and scent, and is often burned this way. He is a curious, yet fearful boy, and often lapses into a semi-conscious state where he doesn't notice people or creatures around him.

He doesn't appear to show any love or recognition towards Fira, only using her as a means of transportation and food. However he often clings to her when frightened, and at night he often strokes her hair and shoulders gently if she appears to be having nightmares. He has no idea of personal boundaries, but will physically curl inwards with his hands balled into fists if something happens that seems to upset him.

Ilum creates though. Using any materials to hand and often bloodying his own hands, Ilum creates pictures and paintings that reveal the true capabilities that may lie deep within his brain. These creations are normally hidden from sight, and Ilum only collects materials when he thinks other people aren't looking.
Appearance:
Because of his haggard appearance, Ilum always gives off the impression that he has recently been dragged out of a nearby pond or lake. His hair is long and scraggly, with knots and burls. Fira has often tried to brush it but when Ilum reacts with kicking and screaming, she stops pretty quickly. Like his 'sister' Ilum is clearly of Latino descent, with deep set dark brown eyes and a nose far too big for his face. Cracked lips are constantly pressed tightly closed, and his tongue is an oddly pale yellow in colour. Ilum's teeth are browning, and he is missing a fair few, but luckily for him, gleamy new whites are just about starting to poke through some of the holes. (his breath stinks too btw)

Like Fira, Ilum wears a plain cardigan, this one hugely oversized and a dirty grey. The sleeves of this cardigan are often drenched, and are full of chew holes. On his lower half he wears cargo shorts hastily tied together with a bit of old rope. His feet are bare as he barely walks anywhere. Ancient burn marks can be seen on his legs, covering the thigh to the calf, with lighter patches of skin where the scarring has replaced damaged skin. Ilum seems physically ill for an eleven year old, and if he were to stand tall instead of hunched over, he only stands at around four feet tall, the average height for an 8 year old boy. Both his arms and his legs are skeletal, though the skin on his legs seems tough and muscular, this is only because of the scar tissue that has grown.

History:
Ilum was born shortly before Fira's powers manifested in probably one of the most violent ways possible. Being a simple baby at the time, he barely remembers what happened, his memories from that time were only brief flashes of bright orange light followed by blackness. Growing as a toddler, Ilum was a pretty smart child, often injured and often bedridden because of the sores on his legs that refused to heal. His parents were kind and gentle, yet he could see the strain in their eyes. They lived in an extremely small hut, with three or four other children, so often Ilum shared a bed with two or more bodies at once.

The remaining children suffered frequent nightmares and would often kick out in the night, opening up new wounds in Ilum's legs and more than likely causing the same amount of harm to themselves. Ilum grew up barely knowing what undamaged skin looked like. Everywhere he turned he saw faces scabbed over with oozing wounds and flaky skin, siblings with red and raw stomachs and rashy shoulders. He was often in pain, but because most of the children cried he didn't seem to make a dent in his parents' affections.

They never spoke to him, nor to any of the other children, so Ilum (at first) never learned language, only the body language and grunts from children in pain. Fira tried to teach him some language after she found him, but these attempts seemed pointless after Ilum was unresponsive.

When Ilum turned 5 (or thereabouts; birthdays were no longer celebrated) his father took him in his arms and looked at his 'son'.
"I'm sorry" He said, knowing the squirming child wouldn't understand. His eyes filling with tears, he held the boy and walked away from the hut, simply walking in silence for the longest time. At first Ilum didn't mind, but soon he became impatient, wiggling and bleating to be let down, even going so far as to hit the man on his face, opening fresh wounds. His father did not stop or slow, just carried on walking, tears streaming down his scarred face.

Finally he stopped, standing among the remains of an old house. Charred ashes and broken furniture was strewn all around; any usable parts from this wreckage had been salvaged long ago.

"The time is now boy. I cannot risk you any more. I hope you are safe with her" His father's voice was hoarse, but he said the words clearly. Then he set the boy down, who curled into a ball, not understanding his situation, nor why it was suddenly so bitterly cold. Then the man whom he knew as provider and comforter glanced to the wind, mouthing a single word; a name. Then he left, leaving the child to fend for himself until 'she' came, or to starve.

(shortly afterwards, Fira finds him, from then on his history is the same as Fira's)


EDIT: The two character forms together exceeded 10,000 characters, so I put Ilum's form in this post XD. Sorry for the essays!))

[sans the skeleton]

(( Macintosh Ninja: Accepted. Welcome, our first human! Very good posts, everyone. If there's no posts within the next day from anyone else who's joined I'll advance; just to be safe. ))

(( And Imaginatio, I doubt I'll be officially closing joining for a good while so go nuts! (That means we're open, hai!) ))

[Spriter]

May I just come here and say that I have an interest in this? I'll complete the form eventually, don't worry, but I will have it done soon.

Now, which power...hmm.

[Pichu!!]

(( Name: Fira Aatrox
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Powers:
Fira is unique in that she can change the density of her molecules to represent a Solid, Liquid, Gas or Plasma. This takes moderate levels of concentration, although Fira has managed to control it quite well, she is still limited to the amount of her body she can transform at any one time. For example, she can reduce the density of the molecules in her arm to 'Phase' it into liquid, which allows her to use the liquefied arm to destroy lock mechanisms, however it'd be hard for her to phase both an arm and an ear, for example, at the same time. (see Phase Transition, I think that sort of explains it)

A negative side effect of her power is that, if injured, Fira heals far slower than the average Metahuman or even human, due to the constantly changing density of her molecules. Any attempt to speed up this process using phasing will only increase the damage done. Because of this Fira puts herself in great danger every time she uses her power.
Personality:
A snide and arrogant female, Fira for the most part knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get it. She is blunt, almost to the point of insult, and often doesn't realise when she has hurt people's feelings. However even if she does realise, chances are she won't express any remorse and often adopts a 'too bad, so sad' attitude when confronted. She likes to point out the bitter truth; that Metahumans are barely second class citizens, and although she loves her own power she is very harsh and distrusting of other Metahumans.

She is prone to sudden mood changes and has a soft spot for smaller children, although she will vehemently deny it if ever challenged. Deep down she is often worried about finding her place in the world, and lives each day as it comes, although she really wishes she could do more to be able to plan for her future. She takes it upon herself to look after her younger brother; Ilum, and is normally a lot gentler and...kinder? in his presence. However she is extremely protective of Ilum and barely lets anyone get near him let alone close enough to talk to him or touch him.
Appearance:
At first glance Fira looks like a decidedly average 24 year old. Average height average build, slightly wider hips slightly smaller hands, yet the fact that she looks average and is anything but average is a point in her favour. If it weren't for her fiery look of loathing, she could quite easily blend into the crowd.

Fira is of Latino descent, with a strong nose mirroring her Latino father and pale hazel eyes inherited from her Caucasian mother, making it an odd combination. Her lips are oddly pale, and often cruelly twisted in an ironic smile.

She wears an unassuming brown cardigan, cropped at the belly and cut short to just below the elbows, with dark blue baggy jeans complete with black running trainers; for quick getaways. Her dark, not quite black hair is cut to medium length with a fringe, tied back in a high ponytail. A stray strand of hair too long to be fringe but too short to be tucked back with the ponytail flickers off to one side.

History:
Fira grew up in a foster home, with several other kids often fighting for attention. She was the third of four siblings, plus the nine orphans and homeless children that her biological parents took care of. She grew up changing nappies and rubbing ointment onto aching heads, hands, arms and bellies and waking up before dawn to help with the daily chores. Her two older brothers would often taunt her, as siblings do, although they kept their distance. Even though she was surrounded by children, Fira often felt alone and angry. 

She first discovered her power for herself at the age of 14, shortly after her brother was born (which is why recently she has become more aggressively protective about Ilum), although she had an inkling that her parents knew about her power long before she ever did, as they always isolated her from interacting with other children. When it came to reading stories or eating a picnic; Fira's parents made sure that she was busy with some other chores, to limit her contact with too many other children (why they chose to foster so many in the first place is beyond me). However two adults cannot always keep track of so many children, and an accident was bound to happen sooner or later.

Needless to say the accident occurred and Fira was subsequently sedated, bundled up and sent away to a young children's institution to prevent her from further harming herself or anyone else. The incident was heavily glossed over by the local papers; typical Arson, and soon forgotten. What happened afterwards is hearsay, but four years later, and at an age where she could legally account for herself (in the UK at least, dunno if this changes or anything?), Fira left the institution for her own destiny.

Retracing her old steps, she came across the ruins of her old home, and among the rubble, found a barely sentient, half starved five year old boy; Ilum. (Whether or not they are actually biologically related, it is hard to tell). Fira scooped Ilum into her arms and walked away from the rubble, hoping to carve a new life for herself and her single, surviving sibling.

The two were later found in an abandoned bakery by the Metahuman Control, scraping together mouldy dough to make toughened bread. They were immediately rounded up and taken to the slums.

EDIT: Done now!))

[The Macintosh Ninja: SOH CAH TOA]

Jack looked at a small slip of paper. On it was a scrawled address where his next bounty lived: a woman who could generate electricity from her hands. Some reports claimed she had robbed a small store and attacked a police officer. She was to be arrested and put on trial. Jack took a deep breath. He only knew the part about the attack and about her being a Metahuman, but the information provided never elaborated on her power or if she was dangerous.

He arrived at the last known site she was at, a small District near a pond. This was essentially enemy territory: he wasn't dressed like law enforcement but if anyone found out he could quickly be injured. Some would see him as the embodyment of everything wrong the humans had done, others would see him as a man with a job. The soldier breathed deeply and tapped his holster. The gun was still in place, ready to fire a tranquilizer dart should she prove dangerous. If he could get her to agree to go calmly, the only difficult part of tonight's job would be walking her out of the District and to the van.

He approached the small house where she lived.

[Spriter]

Name: Adrian Russell
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Powers: Adrian has the ability to create illusions that will trick most humans and possibly metahumans. He also has the ability to display walls from illusions, and he can "camouflage" himself to avoid combat. He can create illusions based on the target's phobias, and he can even inflict pain illusions, though he has not fully mastered this technique, so he can only inflict a small amount of pain.

However, each illusion he performs makes him become tired, especially phobia exploitation and pain illusions. He can only keep the illusions going for a certain amount of time, typically between 1 and 1 and a half minutes (more details on potential abilities here).

Personality: Adrian typically feels rather frustrated, known to ball his fists up angrily. His frustration does make him a violent person, as he cannot understand the reason behind why metahumans are treated so badly. As a result of this, he cannot stand being anywhere near a human. In fact, he would gladly make any human feel pain if he had mastery over his illusionary powers. When he is at home, he tends to be relaxed and release some of his frustration by creating illusions, usually based on his life before he was found to be a metahuman. Because he prefers to think alone about things like the crisis that started the seperation, he doesn't have many friends, and in fact he only trusts a very small group of people. When in the company of any of his friends, he tends to drop his frustration in favour of a more kind personality. He can be polite and caring towards friends, and will not hesitate to protect them from any sort of harm. However, he has a tendency to rant at his friends, though they know that he means no harm to them. However, inside him, he truly doubts his life, wondering why he is treated the way he is and how he could ever change it.
Appearance: Adrian is about 5 foot 11, with a somewhat-strong-yet-somewhat-average build, with small hands and feet. He has light blond hair that falls to just below his ears, and his fringe falls to just above his eyebrows. Adrian's pale skin matches his hair too. Any facial hair he has is usually quite light and usually hard to see, but Adrian will remove it whenever he spots anything growing. Adrian's preferred clothing usually consists of a long-sleeved black shirt and typically navy blue jeans, and if it is cold, he wears a thin navy-coloured jacket.
History: He survived the first twelve years of his life without knowing about his potential abilities, having an easy life. He had no siblings and was often alone (not including his white cat with brown and black patches of fur), and he started noticing his powers when he was attempting to sleep one night. An illusion of a cat appeared at the edge of his bed that appeared to be his recently deceased cat, though he saw through the illusion when it "teleported" around the room. When he told his parents about it, they simply ignored him. Instead of trying to rid himself of his powers, he decided he would try and develop them, as he figured they could be of some use in the near future. Not long after the crisis happened, he accidentally made an illusion of his cat once again that - like the first illusion - also teleported. An officer saw this illusion through his window, as it was in broad daylight, though it was later found it the officer had actually been seeing Adrian train his powers for the previous four months. He and his family were sent to the slums, where they have stayed ever since. His parents came within inches of disowning him for it, but he managed to persuade them that they (the illusions) were beyond his control.

((If this needs improving, let me know.))