I have been writing a revision of the RP so far in an easy(er) to read format.
It is dark, the first rays of the sun are just peaking over the horizon, and a figure stands in the middle of a forest. All around him is destruction, in the form of a massive crater, with him as the epicenter. He heads aches, and he cannot remember where he came from or why he is here. All he knows is his name, Athen. The sky is twisted and dark, contrasting with the lights of a city in the distance. Seeing nothing else of note, Athen begins to trudge towards the light, under the tortured sky of the planet.
A time later and much closer to the city, Athen hears a commotion. At the edge of the forest a mob comes into view, with a spindly figure at its center, seeming to suffer the wrath of the people. This sight fills Athen with rage, and he charges into the crowd, knocking several members down. The mob grows weary of his attack, and turns from their target, crowding around Athen, dragging him down below them, beating him. The slim figure, now realizing he is free of the attentions of the crowd, pushes past them and grabs Athen, throwing him over his shoulder, and running into the city. The crowd follows, not willing the give up the quarry, after all, there was a bounty for mutants and dissenters.
Drakar walked the length of the boulevard, alert for troublemakers. Ever since the Enforcers had taken control of the merchant guild that ruled this city, there had been malcontents everywhere. He himself was not satisfied with the new government. They were brutal, eliminating all aberrations to a normal human begin. He had just barely been able to disguise his own powers from the magical detectors, walking through the scanner in a cold sweat.
Now, because of his skill with a sword, it was his job to comb the streets, looking for aberrations and criminals alike. Ever since that day when the invaders broke the Earth, there had been chaos. This city was one of the last bastions he knew of, and even then it was falling fast. Supposedly, some of the most powerful wizards, bourn from the stress on the Earth, had cast a spell, holding it limbo, even though the aliens had detonated a nuclear device at its center. Drakar had to give it some credit, especially due to the presence of his own magical powers . . .
Interrupting his train of thought, a figure came dashing out an ally and bumped into him. As the slim figures skin made contact with his, he felt as if his very soul was being scalded. They hung there like that, and then fell sprawling on the ground.
The tall one turned to Drakar “You’re a good person, and we need help.” He glanced at his hand “You can tell that I’m not normal. I’m called Stilts, and I need to get this man some help, he attacked a mob and now their chasing us” he whispered as he picked up his burden once more.
Drakar thought about it, and decided he really didn’t like the enforcers that much. “I’ll hold them up for a while,” he smiled, “I can do that much.” Without another word, Stilts took off running, Athen hanging limply on his shoulder. A large shadow slinked in one of the alleys, watching as this unfolds.
As the sounds of the mob grow louder, Stilts bends his body in an inhuman fashion, climbing up the side of a building, with Athen. On the roof he lays Athen out and locates what he knew to be there. A small bush clings to life on the roof. No longer the simple green of normal plant life, it glows with an inner vitality that betrays its nature. Stilts carefully removes one of the few white blossoms, and shoves it down Athen’s throat and waits for something to happen.
On the ground, Drakar sees the incoming mob, their rage undeniable. He calls out, “Stop now, or I will arrest you for disturbing the peace.” The mob pays him no heed and continues to charge down the street. Drakar draws his sword, and suddenly, he is everywhere at once among the crowd, as the people panic and attempt to fight back.
Athen wakes up, his wounds bleeding profusely. His savior bends over him, “Are you ok?”
“I am, but who are you?” his wounds seem to hardly affect him now, “and how did we get here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. I’ve been in this city for as long as I can remember, these people hate mutants, but I have nowhere to go . . .” Athen seems to settle into his thoughts, but then looks up startled.
“I don’t know who I am.” A note a panic creeps into his voice,” I don’t remember anything!” He seems to almost go into a state of shock. “All I remember is my name . . .”
Some of the men fighting Drakar are of stouter heart and begin to attack the multiple forms. One of them gets lucky, his blade parting through Drakar as if through air, and the spell is broken. A few of them pull their guns and open fire while Drakar closes with them. The bullets pass through the illusion, and suddenly the true Drakar is among them, rending their heads from their necks. One of the men catches sight of the figure in the distance, calling out a warning, and the other open fire on it. The figure charges into the crowd, rending and tearing with its massive upper body strength. Its from is twisted from its mutations, and it takes blows in stride.
Stilts watches the only people he has ever known die by the hands of strangers. They had tortured him and chased him, but never done him any real harm, and now they were suffering. He jumps from the roof, attempting to incapacitate and disperse as much of the crowd as possible.
After a moment of fighting, sirens can be heard over the conflict. The mob breaks and scatters, fleeing for safety from the enforcers. The massive mutant flees into an alleyway, while Drakar sheaths his sword and begins walking to meet the trucks. He glances at Stilts, motioning for him to flee as quickly as possible. Athen falls unconscious from blood loss, falling to the street below, a loud crack signifying a broken bone. Stilts ran up and pulled Athen on to his shoulder, fleeing down the street, away from the sirens. He knows of a safe place, a place he has been before, sanctuary.
