Lugar de Morte - Superhero RP

Community Role Playing
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“Oh. Uh, no thank you? Sir? I think I should probably stay here…yeah.” Lucius stammers out.

Silas volunteering did not produce confidence that this was something he should join. He wasn’t even good at multiplayer shooters, there was no way he could handle this.

Wait, why where they even given this option now? Aren’t they all new? Shouldn’t there be some further evaluation or something? There wasn’t a single school he could think of that started with a job fair with immediate work on first day of enrollment. At least not real schools.

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Dr. Huber sighed through clenched jaw while General Trent smirked. “Excellent. I would appreciate it if you were ready within the hour to leave; Major Phillips will be waiting at the landing pad when you are ready.”

The General had turned and started to walk off when Max sprinted up. “Hey, uh, General, I’d like to volunteer too, y’know. I’m an American and all that, so can I go…?”

“Max, you know you’re not permitted to leave for any reason after your kind of conduct here.” The General placed a hand on Max’s shoulder, and he glanced at with a grimace. “How do you think you’re going to go home someday if you keep up these silly vendettas? You’re an American, Max, try and act like it.”

“I don’t have to take this.” Max grumbled and turned to go, but the General held his grip. “Do you really think we don’t want you home? Max, you can infinitely replicate yourself with enough time. You’d be a one-man infinite army. You could single-handedly wipe out any terrorist group on your own. But you’ve got to play by their rules, Max. You don’t want to be here forever.”

Max angrily turned to go, but the General’s arm locked, and Max’s shoulder tore from his body, revealing the blue, spongy material underneath had not finished solidifying. With a scowl, Max swiped his shoulder from General Trent’s grip, clumsily plastered it back on, and sulked off.

“Seems to be enough of an American to me.” The goth girl muttered.

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Veronica was worried. She, of all people, should be more classified for this sort of mission, being a military-trained astronaut and all. If anything, she thought, she should take the place of any of the youth here. It would be the most ethical thing to do. However, she once again remembered how hard it was to control her power. Explosives, guns, and likely civilians in the area would cause too much destruction.

Veronica knew the location as well. Black sea port city, or at least near one, she understood. The area was occupied by the soviets before the end of the cold war. She wondered what sort of object MOL could possibly desire. Some old soviet secret device created during the cold war, perhaps?

“I will volunteer,” Veronica pipped up. “You had just better hope the material we are capturing is not sensitive to heat.”

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Huh, didn’t see that coming. Silas thought. He had yet to hear a positive word out of Veronica’s mouth, yet here she was, volunteering when others would not.

He gave her an appreciative nod.

“Is there an arsenal and or a library at our disposal?” Silas questioned equally between Huber and Trent.

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Huber looked with no little disappointment at the ground while Trent adjusted his collar before Silas’ question pulled him back into reality. “Oh, yes, you will all be properly outfitted with weaponry and equipment to ensure no harm comes to any of you. However, before any of that, I must know what your unique abilities are.”

Dr. Huber looked like he wanted to comment on the library, but the General had the floor.

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“Enhanced sensory and cognitive speed, sir. One second in real time is 10 minutes in my head.” Silas shot back matter-of-factly.

“About that library?” Silas asked, shooting Huber an expectant glance. Silas interrupting the general would probably be seen as rude, but he still had a hard time adjusting to the difference between the real world and his mind.

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Renata attempted to slip out of the room so that those who are going on the mission could discuss it in peace. Not like she could contribute to the conversation anyway.

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The General smirked harder. It seemed he had something in mind.

“The library is located in the same building as the private quarters.” Dr. Huber replied, his eyes watching Renata go. “If the General is done here, we will finish the tour there.”

“Oh, yes, we’re finished here.” The General picked at a more on his jaw as he went back the way he came, speaking in hushed tones with a young man in military attire holding a notepad. Huber’s smile snapped back into position, and he gestured for the group to follow him.

@ajtazt @ProfSrlojohn @Chronicler @Cordax @MakutaOisli @TheMOCingbird

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Silas took a mental note of Renata’s exit before turning his attention back toward the doctor, following the group.

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Lucius was still trying to process what the General meant about the American bits to freaky-sponge-man. Was having vendettas not an American attitude or only silly vendettas? What classified it as silly?

His mind would eventually catch onto it only being rhetoric to get Max to do what the Military wanted. It wasn’t just on the nose, it was stated outright, but sometimes one gets caught up in weird little details. But with the tour resume, Lucius made sure to get back in line. Preferably away from Max.

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Veronica mentions, “I am able to, well, spontaneously combust and control fire. It has been a hard time dealing with it.”

Veronica walked quietly behind. She made sure her gloves were on snugly just in case she accidently touched anything.

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“And how do you intend to figure that out?” Wen suddenly asked.

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“Presumably asking. Like he just did.” Silas said with a shrug.

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The red doors swung open as Dr. Huber walked through, taking a few confident steps forward before turning around to address the group.

“This is where you will be staying. Each of the rooms is sanitized once a week, and each room has a name on the door corresponding to the first name of the occupant. Some of those here choose to decorate their rooms quite distinctively, but how or if you wish to do so is entirely up to you.”

“As mentioned earlier,” Dr. Huber continued, walking past a flight of stairs which led to the second story of rooms. “Our library is located in the same building. There are not many books currently available, due mostly to our desire for the eventual construction of a completely separate library, with five times the amount of space.” He walked through the open doorway which separated the white-painted concrete of the living quarters with the rich maple walls of the library, which consisted of one room with every inch of wall space covered with bookshelves.

On the top of one of these bookshelves, almost directly next to the doorway itself, and unnoticed by Dr. Huber until he turned around to smile at the group before his expression fell in disappointment, was a boy not older than 12, his eyes glowing with excitement, buried in an old book with a brown cover. He remained infatuated with the hardcover until Huber cleared his throat, causing the child to jump into the air and crash down onto the floor in a heap.

“I thought I told you.” Huber responded, catching the book as it fell without taking his eyes off the boy, his tone of voice harsher than when he had addressed Max. “These books are valuable, very valuable, and you know why you can’t be handling them yourself.”

The boy seemed to shrink away at the accusation, even while the doctor thumbed through the book to find a page to present - one with a very smoky thumbprint practically burned into the page. It was no surprise to see it, either, as the boy seemed to be made entirely of black smoke, which billowed off his body at an impressive rate, dissipating entirely less than a foot from his skin. “I’m sorry,” He pleaded, seemingly hoping his glowing white eyes and mouth would do the legwork of winning the argument for him.

Dr. Huber shut the book with a loud THUD, emphasizing the impact of the two covers as much as he could. “This library is a privilege to you. Take better care of it. Go.” He ushered the boy away after the lad had finished nodding profusely, sighing deeply and placing the book on an open spot on the shelf. “He has a tremendous amount of energy, and a tremendous talent for driving the staff up the wall. Sometimes literally.” He smirked, gesturing with his thumb at a smoky hand print on the wall.

“Are there any questions?”
@ajtazt @ProfSrlojohn @Chronicler @Cordax @MakutaOisli @TheMOCingbird

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Silas checked to see if his name was on any of the doos on this story, and if it was, poked his head inside his room to get a feel for the interior.

“Do we need a card to check these out?” Silas asked as he walked by the shelves, already beginning browse the selection, specifically looking for any on languages, Arabic, Croatian, and French to be precise.

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Lucius raises a hand up, though only waits a couple seconds before asking his question.

“Are we the ones required to clean the rooms once a week or is someone else doing that?”

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Dr. Huber chuckled and scratched his cheek before answering, but his answer was cut off abruptly by Lucius’ question.

“We ask that if you are using any of the books, that they remain in the library for the time you are using them, but you can make special request to take a book elsewhere if you prefer reading in a different environment. As for cleaning,” He said, turning to Lucius, “we handle that process ourselves, but request that you do not leave anything perishable in your room on the day of cleaning, as it will be discarded.”

Conveniently enough, Silas’ room was the second closest to the library entrance on the right side. It was roughly six feet wide and twelve feet deep, painted white and furnished with a bed and chair. The door was remarkably sturdy, and to Silas’ thoughtful touch, felt as if it had something mechanical inside.

One book has info on the history of the Arab civilizations, but no other books with their contents listed on the spine had any info on either the Croatian or French languages.

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Noticing Silas looking for his room, Wen decided to do the same, hoping to find his own.

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Wen’s room was on the middle of the second floor, left side. The center of the second floor walkway was empty, and guardrails on either side minded the gap. If he decided to break from the group and explore it, Wen would find the room and furnishings to be identical to what Silas discovered.

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With a slight frown at the lack of reading material he was hoping to find, Silas grabbed the book on Arabia.

“Can I make a request for a plane heading to Turkmenbashi?” He asked, half sarcastically, as he began to quickly swipe through the first pages of the book.

“And could you let me know when you get anymore books on languages in here?”

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