Post by Administrator on Apr 4, 2008 22:47:51 GMT -5
A background story for the Door of Truth
Starts about twenty years before the start of the RP, and ends two years before.
The sun was rising steadily over the mountains as the group of boys—plus one girl—sat together on a deserted street corner. It was early enough that most other kids weren't waiting for the bus yet, but late enough that they'd likely be showing up soon enough.
"This bites," Joshua Whitlow announced to the group as he slumped against the wall behind him.
"Which part?" Lynn, his older sister, asked with more than a mere hint of sarcasm. "Being freaks or not being able to tell anybody about it?"
"Shut up," Josh muttered, quickly taking offense. "We aren't freaks."
Matteo, who was in-between the two of them, both literally and in age, spoke up. "It's kind of true, man. I mean, doesn't freak just mean unusual or odd? So, technically, we are."
"Do you always have to be a walking dictionary?" Josh snapped testily.
"Do you always have to be a pain in my arse?" Lynn asked, earning herself a series of laughs from the boys—Josh excluded.
"Oh crap," thirteen-year-old Scott muttered, drawing out the oh in a way that made his friends' attention quickly shift to him. He pointed at a group of older kids making their way toward them. "Guys, look alive. We're about to become dog meat."
The group quickly sprang to their feet and faced away from each other, forming a defensive circle of sorts with their backs left unexposed.
"No powers," Lynn hissed. "They hate us enough already."
"You act like we can actually control them," Scott whispered back. "Have you forgotten we pretty much can't?"
Lynn shrugged, the words seemingly bouncing off of her. "Just try." As she said this the other group approached, all wearing smirks.
"How are my favorite freaks today?" The biggest one asked, and looked straight at Lynn with an unreadable expression plastered on his rather disgusting features.
"Just fine until you showed up," Josh spat.
"Oh, so the shrimp speaks," the older boy said.
Josh grimaced visibly. He was small for his eleven years, and didn't exactly enjoy this boy pointing that fact out.
He leaned in close to Josh's face. "You know, I usually eat shrimp for dinner." He grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. "You might make a decent snack."
"Put him down, Gerad!" Lynn demanded angrily, aiming a punch at his midsection.
Gerad let go of Josh, who fell to the ground, landing painfully on his ankle. He stopped Lynn's punch, then grabbed both of her arms and held them tight behind her back, making her squirm as pain shot through her arms.
"You all should know by now not to put up a fight," one of Gerad's counterparts said, making a tsking noise. "Things could get ugly, you know."
"Yeah," Scott replied, his anger showing plainly on his face. "They really could." As he spoke, Gerad's clothes caught fire.
"Wha—" Gerad let go of Lynn, who darted back toward the group and knelt down beside her injured brother. Gerad started slapping at the flames, and his companions backed up, unsure if they wanted to risk the same fate by helping him.
The four children used this opportunity to run off, Scott and Matteo helping Josh while Lynn kept an eye out in case the boys decided to follow. Finally, they collapsed in an alley a few blocks away, too tired to go further while Josh was still injured.
Mere moments after they stopped, a man appeared at the entrance of the alley. "I'm impressed," he stated, nodding his head approvingly.
Lynn stood up on shaky legs. "Wh-what?"
"What you did," he said, his attention focused on Scott. "It was rather stupid, but impressive nonetheless."
"Who are you?" Scott asked. He had stood right after Lynn, and was now staring at the man with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
"You don't need to be afraid of me," the man said. "My name is Jay Forrester. I can help you."
No one spoke for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Lynn forced herself to say what they were all thinking. "How?"
Jay looked around, as if suddenly afraid someone would overhear them. "It's not safe here. Come with me and I'll explain."
Despite his pain, Josh looked up at the man with defiance shining in his eyes. "Yeah, right. How do we know you're not just some freak who likes kids or something? I mean—"
"Shut up, Josh!" Lynn hissed. She turned back to Jay. "Sorry, sir. My brothers a bit of an idiot sometimes."
"Most of the time," Matteo muttered under his breath.
Jay turned away to hide his smile. "It's fine. I can hardly expect you children to trust me right off the bat. So how about I prove myself a little, eh?"
Scott took a step forward. "Okay, fine. Go ahead." Lynn and Matteo nodded their agreement.
Jay walked forward, past the three standing and straight toward Josh. He knelt down beside the boy and reached out his hand, but Josh quickly slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch me, pervert!"
Lynn sighed. "Josh, stop being a baby. He's not going to hurt you. And if he does, we'll make sure he regrets it. Okay?"
Josh swallowed, seeming truly afraid for the first time that day rather than just angry. "O- okay."
Before Josh could change his mind, Jay reached his hand out again and placed it over Josh's injured ankle. Nothing visible happened—no flash of light or anything like that. The only indication of anything having happened was Josh, who sat dumbfounded once Jay pulled his hand away.
"What did you do?" Lynn asked.
Jay shrugged. "Ask your brother."
"Josh?" Lynn asked, looking at him. "What h—"
Josh stood up and pointed to his ankle. "He . . . he healed it. It doesn't even hurt a little." He grinned at this, turning to Jay. "Sorry I called you a freak. So you're like us, then?"
Jay smiled. "Yes, I am. I can do more than just that, but now you know I'm at least telling the truth. Will you come with me now?"
"We have school," Matteo said softly.
Jay nodded, an unreadable expression on his features. "Yes, school is important." He turned to leave. "I'll see you around, then."
"Wait!" Lynn and Scott shouted, almost in unison.
He turned back around. "Yes?"
"We . . ." Scott hesitated, biting his lip. "We could miss school for one day. I mean, it's not that big of a deal."
"Alright then," Jay replied. "Come on." With that he turned and walked away, knowing without a doubt that the four children would follow.
He led them down a series of streets and alleyways until they reached a rather run-down building. By that point, the four children were so turned around that they weren't sure where they were or how to get back.
Matteo pointed this out as Jay knocked on the door. "Um, Mr. Forrester . . . sir? We're sort of, er, confused. Where exactly are we?"
The man merely shrugged in reply, then turned back to the wooden door.
After a few minutes, the door opened a crack, apparently held back by a chain. A face appeared in the small space. "Who—oh, um, hold on." The door closed, and after what sounded like someone fiddling with the chain, it opened again, to reveal a girl who seemed to be in her early twenties. "Come in." Once they were all inside, she turned toward Jay and started speaking rapidly. "Sorry you had to wait so long, sir, but one of the boys was hurt during training, so I left one of the younger kids up here while I went to help, and—"
Jay help up his hand. "It's alright, Arabella. For now, I'm going to take this group of youngsters to my office and explain a few things."
She nodded. "Oh, alright." She smiled knowingly at the four children. "I'll see you all later, I'm sure."
Jay led them across the room—which was more of a closed space a few feet across, with only a desk and a chair occupying one corner—and down a set of stairs. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lynn spoke what they all were wondering.
"What is this place?"
"You'll see," Jay replied, then ushered them down a hall and through a door with a plaque which read: "Jay Forrester; Director." Once they were all inside and seated, he began. "This is going to be difficult for you understand, so I need you all to listen carefully to what I am about to tell you. Alright?"
They all nodded and chorused yes sirs, almost simultaneously.
Jay took a deep breath, as if preparing himself, then launched into a rather lengthy speech. "About forty-two years ago a group of kids just like you found out that they all had special. . . abilities. So they banded together and formed a group, hoping to somehow use these abilities to help others. There were complications, of course, mostly because no one wanted them around. They were known as ‘freaks' and ‘witches,' among other things. Eventually, they became more of an underground group, and kept growing year after year until they numbered over five hundred.
"They trained new members to use their powers, and eventually even added martial arts and military skills training. Certain members were high ranking officers in the military, and they eventually became a sort of special ops group, known to almost no one. They called themselves. . ."
". . . the Guardians," Dr. Geoffrey Kerr continued, watching the two adolescents in front of him as they stared intently, faces depicting a mixture of confusion and awe.
"Why'd they pick that name?" Fifteen-year-old Jasmine Doyle asked suddenly. "I mean, what were they guarding?"
"That's a good question," Dr. Kerr replied. He tapped his fingers lightly on the desk. "Before I answer it, though, I want you to answer a question for me."
"Okay. . ."
"Do you think it's logical to assume that only the ‘good' gifted people would think to form a group like this?"
"Well, no," Jasmine replied, "but—"
Dr. Kerr held up his hand. "There is another group out there, and their intentions aren't nearly as. . . noble. I assure you of that. Do you understand now where the name Guardians comes in?"
She looked as if she might say something else, but instead merely nodded and said, "Yes, sir."
Dr. Kerr nodded as well, and pressed his fingertips together in front of his chin as he looked from Jasmine to the boy sitting next to her, then back again. "Any other questions?" He knew even as he said this that both children likely had many questions flying thought their mind, but doubted they would voice any of them.
True to his assumption, they both shook their heads.
He nodded. "Well, it would seem you both have a choice to make. On one hand," he held out his right hand as if about to weigh the invisible options, "you can choose to stay here and become a Guardian. And on the other," he mimicked the aforementioned movement of his right hand with his left, "you can choose to leave here, in which case you will forget ever having come here, met me, or anything else that's happened today."
Elijah Channing, also fifteen, barely waited a second before replying, "I'm staying."
Dr. Kerr raised one eyebrow. "Would you like a moment to think about that, Elijah?"
He shook his head. "No, sir. I thought about it while you were talking." He smiled broadly, seeming almost like an overeager child on Christmas. "And it's Eli, sir, not Elijah."
Dr. Kerr nodded. "Jasmine?"
"If Eli's in, so am I."
He smiled. "Well, then, welcome to the Guardians."
Starts about twenty years before the start of the RP, and ends two years before.
The sun was rising steadily over the mountains as the group of boys—plus one girl—sat together on a deserted street corner. It was early enough that most other kids weren't waiting for the bus yet, but late enough that they'd likely be showing up soon enough.
"This bites," Joshua Whitlow announced to the group as he slumped against the wall behind him.
"Which part?" Lynn, his older sister, asked with more than a mere hint of sarcasm. "Being freaks or not being able to tell anybody about it?"
"Shut up," Josh muttered, quickly taking offense. "We aren't freaks."
Matteo, who was in-between the two of them, both literally and in age, spoke up. "It's kind of true, man. I mean, doesn't freak just mean unusual or odd? So, technically, we are."
"Do you always have to be a walking dictionary?" Josh snapped testily.
"Do you always have to be a pain in my arse?" Lynn asked, earning herself a series of laughs from the boys—Josh excluded.
"Oh crap," thirteen-year-old Scott muttered, drawing out the oh in a way that made his friends' attention quickly shift to him. He pointed at a group of older kids making their way toward them. "Guys, look alive. We're about to become dog meat."
The group quickly sprang to their feet and faced away from each other, forming a defensive circle of sorts with their backs left unexposed.
"No powers," Lynn hissed. "They hate us enough already."
"You act like we can actually control them," Scott whispered back. "Have you forgotten we pretty much can't?"
Lynn shrugged, the words seemingly bouncing off of her. "Just try." As she said this the other group approached, all wearing smirks.
"How are my favorite freaks today?" The biggest one asked, and looked straight at Lynn with an unreadable expression plastered on his rather disgusting features.
"Just fine until you showed up," Josh spat.
"Oh, so the shrimp speaks," the older boy said.
Josh grimaced visibly. He was small for his eleven years, and didn't exactly enjoy this boy pointing that fact out.
He leaned in close to Josh's face. "You know, I usually eat shrimp for dinner." He grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. "You might make a decent snack."
"Put him down, Gerad!" Lynn demanded angrily, aiming a punch at his midsection.
Gerad let go of Josh, who fell to the ground, landing painfully on his ankle. He stopped Lynn's punch, then grabbed both of her arms and held them tight behind her back, making her squirm as pain shot through her arms.
"You all should know by now not to put up a fight," one of Gerad's counterparts said, making a tsking noise. "Things could get ugly, you know."
"Yeah," Scott replied, his anger showing plainly on his face. "They really could." As he spoke, Gerad's clothes caught fire.
"Wha—" Gerad let go of Lynn, who darted back toward the group and knelt down beside her injured brother. Gerad started slapping at the flames, and his companions backed up, unsure if they wanted to risk the same fate by helping him.
The four children used this opportunity to run off, Scott and Matteo helping Josh while Lynn kept an eye out in case the boys decided to follow. Finally, they collapsed in an alley a few blocks away, too tired to go further while Josh was still injured.
Mere moments after they stopped, a man appeared at the entrance of the alley. "I'm impressed," he stated, nodding his head approvingly.
Lynn stood up on shaky legs. "Wh-what?"
"What you did," he said, his attention focused on Scott. "It was rather stupid, but impressive nonetheless."
"Who are you?" Scott asked. He had stood right after Lynn, and was now staring at the man with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
"You don't need to be afraid of me," the man said. "My name is Jay Forrester. I can help you."
No one spoke for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Lynn forced herself to say what they were all thinking. "How?"
Jay looked around, as if suddenly afraid someone would overhear them. "It's not safe here. Come with me and I'll explain."
Despite his pain, Josh looked up at the man with defiance shining in his eyes. "Yeah, right. How do we know you're not just some freak who likes kids or something? I mean—"
"Shut up, Josh!" Lynn hissed. She turned back to Jay. "Sorry, sir. My brothers a bit of an idiot sometimes."
"Most of the time," Matteo muttered under his breath.
Jay turned away to hide his smile. "It's fine. I can hardly expect you children to trust me right off the bat. So how about I prove myself a little, eh?"
Scott took a step forward. "Okay, fine. Go ahead." Lynn and Matteo nodded their agreement.
Jay walked forward, past the three standing and straight toward Josh. He knelt down beside the boy and reached out his hand, but Josh quickly slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch me, pervert!"
Lynn sighed. "Josh, stop being a baby. He's not going to hurt you. And if he does, we'll make sure he regrets it. Okay?"
Josh swallowed, seeming truly afraid for the first time that day rather than just angry. "O- okay."
Before Josh could change his mind, Jay reached his hand out again and placed it over Josh's injured ankle. Nothing visible happened—no flash of light or anything like that. The only indication of anything having happened was Josh, who sat dumbfounded once Jay pulled his hand away.
"What did you do?" Lynn asked.
Jay shrugged. "Ask your brother."
"Josh?" Lynn asked, looking at him. "What h—"
Josh stood up and pointed to his ankle. "He . . . he healed it. It doesn't even hurt a little." He grinned at this, turning to Jay. "Sorry I called you a freak. So you're like us, then?"
Jay smiled. "Yes, I am. I can do more than just that, but now you know I'm at least telling the truth. Will you come with me now?"
"We have school," Matteo said softly.
Jay nodded, an unreadable expression on his features. "Yes, school is important." He turned to leave. "I'll see you around, then."
"Wait!" Lynn and Scott shouted, almost in unison.
He turned back around. "Yes?"
"We . . ." Scott hesitated, biting his lip. "We could miss school for one day. I mean, it's not that big of a deal."
"Alright then," Jay replied. "Come on." With that he turned and walked away, knowing without a doubt that the four children would follow.
He led them down a series of streets and alleyways until they reached a rather run-down building. By that point, the four children were so turned around that they weren't sure where they were or how to get back.
Matteo pointed this out as Jay knocked on the door. "Um, Mr. Forrester . . . sir? We're sort of, er, confused. Where exactly are we?"
The man merely shrugged in reply, then turned back to the wooden door.
After a few minutes, the door opened a crack, apparently held back by a chain. A face appeared in the small space. "Who—oh, um, hold on." The door closed, and after what sounded like someone fiddling with the chain, it opened again, to reveal a girl who seemed to be in her early twenties. "Come in." Once they were all inside, she turned toward Jay and started speaking rapidly. "Sorry you had to wait so long, sir, but one of the boys was hurt during training, so I left one of the younger kids up here while I went to help, and—"
Jay help up his hand. "It's alright, Arabella. For now, I'm going to take this group of youngsters to my office and explain a few things."
She nodded. "Oh, alright." She smiled knowingly at the four children. "I'll see you all later, I'm sure."
Jay led them across the room—which was more of a closed space a few feet across, with only a desk and a chair occupying one corner—and down a set of stairs. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lynn spoke what they all were wondering.
"What is this place?"
"You'll see," Jay replied, then ushered them down a hall and through a door with a plaque which read: "Jay Forrester; Director." Once they were all inside and seated, he began. "This is going to be difficult for you understand, so I need you all to listen carefully to what I am about to tell you. Alright?"
They all nodded and chorused yes sirs, almost simultaneously.
Jay took a deep breath, as if preparing himself, then launched into a rather lengthy speech. "About forty-two years ago a group of kids just like you found out that they all had special. . . abilities. So they banded together and formed a group, hoping to somehow use these abilities to help others. There were complications, of course, mostly because no one wanted them around. They were known as ‘freaks' and ‘witches,' among other things. Eventually, they became more of an underground group, and kept growing year after year until they numbered over five hundred.
"They trained new members to use their powers, and eventually even added martial arts and military skills training. Certain members were high ranking officers in the military, and they eventually became a sort of special ops group, known to almost no one. They called themselves. . ."
". . . the Guardians," Dr. Geoffrey Kerr continued, watching the two adolescents in front of him as they stared intently, faces depicting a mixture of confusion and awe.
"Why'd they pick that name?" Fifteen-year-old Jasmine Doyle asked suddenly. "I mean, what were they guarding?"
"That's a good question," Dr. Kerr replied. He tapped his fingers lightly on the desk. "Before I answer it, though, I want you to answer a question for me."
"Okay. . ."
"Do you think it's logical to assume that only the ‘good' gifted people would think to form a group like this?"
"Well, no," Jasmine replied, "but—"
Dr. Kerr held up his hand. "There is another group out there, and their intentions aren't nearly as. . . noble. I assure you of that. Do you understand now where the name Guardians comes in?"
She looked as if she might say something else, but instead merely nodded and said, "Yes, sir."
Dr. Kerr nodded as well, and pressed his fingertips together in front of his chin as he looked from Jasmine to the boy sitting next to her, then back again. "Any other questions?" He knew even as he said this that both children likely had many questions flying thought their mind, but doubted they would voice any of them.
True to his assumption, they both shook their heads.
He nodded. "Well, it would seem you both have a choice to make. On one hand," he held out his right hand as if about to weigh the invisible options, "you can choose to stay here and become a Guardian. And on the other," he mimicked the aforementioned movement of his right hand with his left, "you can choose to leave here, in which case you will forget ever having come here, met me, or anything else that's happened today."
Elijah Channing, also fifteen, barely waited a second before replying, "I'm staying."
Dr. Kerr raised one eyebrow. "Would you like a moment to think about that, Elijah?"
He shook his head. "No, sir. I thought about it while you were talking." He smiled broadly, seeming almost like an overeager child on Christmas. "And it's Eli, sir, not Elijah."
Dr. Kerr nodded. "Jasmine?"
"If Eli's in, so am I."
He smiled. "Well, then, welcome to the Guardians."