Rebels & Mutineers is set in modern day New Orleans, Louisiana. R&M is fueled by player's plots and group input.
Supernatural people have always had their place in society, hidden in plain sight or locked away for their own protection. New Orleans, a haven for the strange and mysterious and a magnet for the supernatural.
Established: Oct. 27th, 2018 Recently Updated Posts && Recently Updated Threads
05.11.19
As the community reels from the untimely death of Lucia Lovelle, life has to move on. Primrose readies for the annual Prom celebration! Keep your eye out for a event board and have fun!
02.27.19
It's not too late to vote for February's OTM winners! The winners for January, keep an eye out on your messages for your winner's graphics for your signature. Already voted? Make sure you check out the Mardi Gras event board! Party up, have a good time, and enjoy!
Post by Benjamin Townsend on Dec 14, 2018 1:46:32 GMT
at most I'm sleeping all these demons away
"I walk a lonely road," Ben's voice reverberated in the featureless room. He sat against the sterile white while, his knees drawn to his chest as he belted out one of the few songs in his repertoire that did not involve guttural screams. "The only one that I have ever known." He had been locked up in solitary for a day now for refusing to attend his regularly scheduled sleep analysis. When they attempted to escort him to the lab he resisted by latching himself onto his bed with bony manacles. The staff was not amused by his creativity or the fact that he had been able to create his ingenious creation before they could get a power blocker on the scene.
It had taken forty minutes for the staff to find a suitable way to remove the construct from Ben before they tossed him in the dungeon. As in most cases, Ben did his best to stave off the crushing boredom. His first day he had dedicated to creating a chess set of bone. He had created a full complement of white back pieces before running out of calcium. He waited patiently for food to come but it never did. Deprived of the fuel he needed to use his powers he grew agitated. He had originally begun singing in an attempt to irritate whoever happened to be watching over him.
He sang obnoxiously offkey until he fell asleep, continuing to sing for over two hours. When he awoke next morning, or what he assumed to be morning, he went straight back at it again, hoping that his obnoxious behavior would result in him getting fed. Eventually, his songs grew quieter as the pangs in his stomach increased. He'd burned through his repertoire of songs twice and only carried on the tune out of pure spite. "Don't know where it goes, but it's only me and I walk alone."
Ben sighed, his head falling back against the wall with a thud. His throat ached and his stomach grumbled in protest. "Fuckin' a dude, you can at least throw me like an energy bar or something. I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday." He griped, his focus directed at the door to his left. As expected there was no response. He furrowed his brow as he picked up the king's knight he had created and whipped it at the door. The osteon creation ricocheted off and clattered on the linoleum floor. "Or ignore me. That's cool too."
Ben's hazel eyes moved away from the door and to the ceiling above. The urge to go back to sleep came over him until he heard something out of the ordinary. At first, he thought it was someone actually coming to feed him. He leaned forward, tattooed knuckles pushing him toward the door. As he waited he realized that the noise was not coming from the entrance. He looked about finally noticing a vent on the adjacent wall.
Without grace, Ben crawled across the floor and placed his ear up to vent. Confusion screwed up his features as he caught only the vaguest hints of sound. Hints of a voice.
"...Hello? Is there anyone there? ... Please don't be some kind of terrifying monster. I can't deal with that shit right now."
Ben had seen the vents in the room before and had tried to escape through them. They were only a foot or so in width and nearly impossible to try and squeeze through. That and they had been a bitch to try and pry off. Never before had he heard a voice echoing from the other side.
Post by Sophie de la Cruz on Dec 27, 2018 5:18:37 GMT
Solitary confinement. For most people, it was a punishment meant to isolate and other, to force people to think about what they’d done and the reason that they were there. For some people, it was hell on Earth, and not something that they would willingly do in a million years. For Sophie, however, it was a place to get away, a place she could hide out when the world got to be far too loud and too overwhelming. And all it took was a little misbehaving. As if she didn’t do enough of that to get herself in plenty of trouble as it was. Today, she had been causing her usual amount of mischief: just enough to be a major pain in the ass, not enough to warrant any kind of special treatment. She had seen plenty of that in her lifetime, both through experience and by seeing it done to others, the last thing that she wanted was to warrant it now. So instead, she had skipped through the halls, knocking things over as she went, and when an orderly or two had come her way? She ran, twisting and turning down the corridor before being caught just down the hall from her favorite refuge, the library.
They had dumped her, unceremoniously into the cell, where she had crawled into the corner, curling in on herself and slowly shutting off sense after sense, letting herself grow numb to the world around her. Her skin felt like it was crawling off of her body, and more than anything she just wanted to shut it off, to let herself fall into a black abyss and feel nothing for a few straight hours. She didn’t feel like that was too much to ask, considering her entire ability revolved around senses and sensations. Just a little peace. Just a little quiet. That was all she wanted.
As it was, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The only bad part about solitary confinement was that it gave her too much time to think. And well, pondering over her nightmares and the aching pain that still seemed to wrack her frame was not exactly something that she wanted to do in her spare time. She tried to focus on happier things. Lighter things. The sound of Mason’s voice. The way his hand felt in hers. The color of Lili’s eyes. The way her name sounded rolling off of her lips. Watching sunsets on the roof with Eli. Telling him her story. The support and love that she had felt from each and every one of the people that she called her friend filtered through her mind, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt a yearning for someone to be with her.As for the who, well, that was beginning to be a rather long list.
She leaned her head back against the wall of the cell, regretting coming down here instead of finding her way outside, or hanging out on the rooftop with Eli. It was then that she heard a voice, singing what she vaguely recognized to be a Green Day song. Or it would have been, had it been anywhere near on key. A smile curled over her lips as the song faded, and when a new one started, she took a minute, before singing along with him, harmonizing when she could… and just singing the melody most of the time, since he was rather off key and figuring out an adequate harmony to that would be next to impossible. It was the first time she had sang in a long time, with no water and no chance to warm up. But she didn’t care if her voice squeaked to high heaven. She didn’t care if she couldn’t reach the height that her voice had once been able to soar to. The fact that she was singing again, the fact that she was actively using her voice for something other than sassing off to the staff or screaming made her feel light. Relaxed. Happy, even.
Sophie stopped singing when the voice through the vent did, and she let her head fall back against the wall. “Thanks doll, it was fun while it lasted.” She called through the vent, closing her eyes and mentally preparing herself for the images that she knew she would see if she managed to drift off to sleep.
“Hello?”
Sophie’s eyes opened, and she looked towards the vent to her side. The voice was familiar, though certainly less off key than it had been only moments before. A small smile found its way to her dry and dehydrated lips. “Hey Green Day. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever hear me.” If she knew where he was, or even who he was, she might be able to amp up his hearing, but since she didn’t even know who this was, she couldn’t do anything. “Hate to break it to you, but we live in a literal nuthouse. Monsters come with the territory.” She let out a heavy sigh, sinking down a little lower so she was laying on the floor, her face near the grate. “What kind of monster are you?”
Post by Benjamin Townsend on Dec 29, 2018 6:57:42 GMT
at most I'm sleeping all these demons away
"Well, I mean yeah. I was talking in a more literal horror movie sense. Like, Don't Be Afraid of the Dark, y'know creepy little monsters crawling out of vents kind of deal. Mentally unstable teenagers with superpowers? That's way easier to handle. Deal with that shit every day." His voice was hoarse from the hours of singing he had committed himself to the day before. No one had seen fit to bring him any refreshment to revitalize his brutalized vocal cords and so he was forced to speak like he was a carton a day smoker. He was fond of the raspy quality it gave his voice, less a fan of the burning sensation.
Ben nestled into an optimal position for ease of communication. That had proven difficult without shifting into an awkward position and laying on his side with his ear and mouth poised to swap places as the conversation required. He imagined that his new disembodied friend was poised in a similar position, wherever she was in the system of cells that comprised the solitary block.
He wondered who had been in charge of designing this position of the building. Whoever they were they had royally fucked up. Ben wasn't complaining. Even if he was starving he was happy to have some company.
"If you' really must know I'm the worst kind of monster. The kind that mouths off to the staff and lands himself in solitary on a biweekly basis." Ben thought upon his last run-in with the head of security and how it had been established between the two that he was a monster in the making and human rubbish. The memory warmed his heart and provoked a lopsided smirk from the teen as he lounged before the vent, eager to keep the conversation going.
"If we're talking powers though, I make creepy shit out of bones. Mostly artistic thought-provoking pieces, less often pointy stabby things." Ben looked behind him to the fourth of a chess set that he'd spent the last day making. He was quite proud of his chessmen. He'd spent hours on each piece, hewing away small bits of bone until he found an organic shape with swooping contours.
The scrap from one creation, in turn, feed the next until Ben completely tapped out his supply of excess calcium. If he truly wanted he could tap into what made up his natural skeleton, shaving off small bits of mineral, to fuel his art. With no guarantee that he was leaving any time in the near future, he wanted to save the emergency reserve for an actual emergency.
If he looked at his creations at a certain angle he supposed they could definitely be used to stab someone.
He supposed.
Ben returned his attention to the vent and the voice beyond it. "My name's Ben or you can keep calling me Greenday. I'm cool with that. Always thought of myself as a young Billie Joe Armstrong. What should I call you mysterious vent girl?"
The thought that the girl could be one of his hallucinations occurred to him. He'd never been able to communicate like this while locked up before. Sometimes he slipped out of consciousness involuntarily and when he came back to he'd experience waking dreams, visual and auditory hallucinations. If this was one of them it was certainly the clearest sounding to date. This would be the first one that spoke to him in an intelligible manner.
He pushed that notion far to the back of his mind. He'd learned long ago that once he started doubting things in the confines of solitary he'd end up a babbling mess. Readjusting to the halls of Monroeville was tough when you began to question if anything or anyone was real. Ben had a firm understanding with himself that anything that occurred in solitary beside the most insane and impossible things were real until proven otherwise. It was probably a bad stance but much better than the alternative.
Post by Sophie de la Cruz on Jan 19, 2019 1:05:40 GMT
Oddly enough, talking to someone literally through the walls of Monroeville was not the weirdest thing that she had ever done. That honor belonged to something that had happened in the walls of Primrose Academy, so long ago that all that remained were fuzzy memories and a pervasive sense of “weirdness” whose threshold this encounter hadn’t even gotten close to. So in this situation, she was actually pretty damn comfortable, even though she had no idea who she was talking to. For all she knew, it could be someone who needed to be here, who had done all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons. It could be someone who ended up wanting to hurt her, and despite her confidence in her ability to protect herself, she wasn’t sure that she would ever be ready to be in a situation like that ever again. However, it seemed that the voice on the other side of the vent had a sense of humor and a good taste in music, so for now, she wasn’t questioning it too much.
“If I was a creepy little monster crawling through the vents, you really think I would admit it?” Leaning back, Sophie folded her hands behind her bed, keeping one ear close to the vent so that she could hear her new unseen friend. Hopefully this wasn’t just another side effect of the medication that they had put her on; the last thing that she wanted was to seem like she actually belonged in this hellhole. “Luckily for you I’m way too big to fit in these vents, pretty sure I’d give you nightmares.” Her throat ached, she was long since dehydrated and she knew that if she didn’t get something to drink soon, her voice would sound as raspy as the voice on the other side of the vent. “Only biweekly? And here I thought you were a regular offender.” Sophie was in solitary more often than she was out of it lately, preferring to get tossed into one of these rooms whenever the world got to be too loud and too much to handle. It made sense to her that a girl who could modulate her own senses would be overwhelmed when that power was suppressed, and those were typically the times she intentionally landed herself in here, or hid in her room. It meant dehydration and hunger, it meant leering stares and being completely at the mercy of someone else, but it meant peace and quiet, at least for a little while.
“I feel like there’s definitely a boner joke in there somewhere, I’m just way too dehydrated to actually deliver.” She laughed. The idea of his power intrigued the hell out of her. Creating things out of bone was a hell of a lot more interesting than being able to fuck around with people’s senses. “I’d take that over mine any day, though. You create stuff, I get to influence how much or how little people see of it. Or hear. Or feel.” She shrugged, before remembering that he couldn’t actually see her. “Or taste if you want to get real weird with it.” Then again, considering where they were, she wouldn’t be surprised if there was at least one person who wanted to taste bone, regardless of the potential sanitation concerns. Granted, there were more than a few sanitation concerns in this room alone.
“You know, Mysterious Vent Girl has a pretty decent ring to it, but Sophie might be a lot quicker for you, and it sounds like you need to save all the words that you can.” His prolonged rendition of Green Day’s greatest hits left him as raspy as Christina Aguilera in her later years, and there was a part of her that wished she could create water to send to him, it sounded like he needed it. “So Ben, what did you do to get locked up in here? I doubt it was the Green Day, even some of these assholes have to have decent taste in music.”
Benjamin Townsend| The Adventures of Green Day and Mysterious Vent Girl
Post by Benjamin Townsend on Feb 2, 2019 8:10:41 GMT
at most I'm sleeping all these demons away
“No, but I could hope that by calling you out on it you’d be less inclined to do whatever it is creepy little vent monsters do.” Ben instantly decided that he liked this girl. Solitary had a way of bringing out the worst in people. He’d seen it in the halls. People who’d been stuck there for too long. Their emotions raw, their sense of humor withered away to nothing. He’d made a promise to never get like that. It wasn't hope that kept him from falling into that manic headspace so much as it was sheer spite for his jailers. Spite, after all, was one of the most powerful of motivators. Spite kept him going despite the painful ache in his stomach and his parched throat. From the sounds of it, his new friend was in a similar position and mindset.
“Sorry to disappoint you. It used to be a lot more regular but I made a promise to a friend that I’d try and clean up my act. As you can see, I’m still working on the whole cleaning up my act thing.” Ben rolled his eyes at the vent and the girl’s judgment. He couldn’t help but wonder just how often his new friend landed herself in Monroeville’s most lavish accommodations and what she did. Ben often faced confinement for his refusal to take his medications and multiple escape attempts. His tries at breaking out of Monroeville had petered out since making real friends but he still loathed the idea of having pills shoved down his throat and needles poked through his skin.
“Oh, there most certainly is a boner joke in there. What’s the point of having such a weird power if you can’t make a joke out of it? I make them all the time. My boy Mason puts me to shame though. He’s got the best boner jokes.” Mention of his skinwalker friend brought a smile to Ben’s lips. That, in turn, made him realize that he had already missed lunch that day. He swore under his breath. Lili, Mace, and Lucy were probably worried about him. He’d have to do some serious damage control when he finally got out. Odds were that word of his confinement would get back to him before he could. He could already hear the chastising remarks from Lilith and Lucia.
“You might want to reserve any judgments until you see the power in action. People tend to get grossed out when they see me removing ribs and teeth and such.” Ben’s powers had always been perturbing. Few could stomach watching as his body cracked and squelched as he acquired bones to demonstrate his power. Fewer still knew the pain that wracked Ben’s body when he utilized his osteokinetic powers. “Gotta get the bones to manipulate from somewhere. They grow back though. I’d give you a demonstration but my power is way more impressive visually. Unless you want to hear some really squicky sounds and just take my word for it.”
“Sense powers though, that’s pretty cool. I’ve never heard of anything like that. Can you use it on yourself or just other people? Is it permanent? Could you make me someone see outside the visible spectrum? Because Imma be real with you seeing in thermal vision would be pretty dope.” Ben’s mind wandered as it usually did when people told him about their powers. To him, every power that wasn’t his was some gift to humanity that might better the world. In his head, his was a curse. There was no good that could come of it no matter what someone might say. No latent cure for diseases, no ability to heal the wounded, simply a curse of withering and death.
“Sophie, yeah, that rolls off the tongue better than M.V.G. and, hello, kettle, have you met pot? Your voice sounds just as bad as mine.” Eventually, the question on Ben’s mind came to the forefront of their conversation. Just how had Sophie landed herself in this predicament. Well, that and how had he never been this lucky to have a solitary buddy before. He choose to answer candidly.
“I didn’t wanna take my meds. When they tried to force me to I fused all of my teeth together and chained myself to my bed with handcuffs made of bone. Looking back on it I might have overreacted. Just a bit. What can I say though, I’ve never been a huge fan of needles and pills. What about you, Sophie? How does a girl who makes people taste weird shit land herself in solitary? Apparently enough that she feels like she can comment upon my attendance. Me, the Solitary King!”
Post by Sophie de la Cruz on Apr 7, 2019 21:00:37 GMT
{
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Benjamin Townsend| The Adventure grows slightly long winded in the hands of one of the weavers, but it continues!
In spite of her circumstances, and the fact that it felt like she was actively swallowing sandpaper, Sophie laughed. “Hey, if I am a creepy little vent monster, it’s worked this long.” Was she still in shock that she was actually able to talk to someone through the vents? Yes. Was she somewhat annoyed that she hadn’t found out about this sooner? Not really. The thing about Monroeville was that you had no idea who had a stroke of bad luck—like she did—or who actually belonged here. She might be resigned to a life inside of Monroeville, but that didn’t mean she had to get all chummy with some psycho hell-bent on creating their own army of the undead or something. The young Billie Joe Armstrong on the other side of her vent at least seemed sane, and amusing as a bonus. Still, she was well aware that she had no idea who he was, just that his voice made her feel much less alone. That in itself had become a kind of currency in Monroeville, at least for her.
“Hey, you’re trying. So long as there’s progression, you’re probably golden. Unless your friend is as strict as the sadistic bastards that tossed us in here.” Sophie could feel a cramp working its way through her calf, one of the first signs of dehydration. She had half a mind to start throwing a fit for water, but she couldn’t exactly transport water through the vents, and she felt bad that she might be able to weasel some water out of some orderly, but her vent buddy would go without. How long had she gone without it? There were no windows in this little room, no way to measure time. It felt like years, but she knew better than anybody how misleading her mind could be.
There was no part of Sophie that had imagined she would be here, talking about boner jokes with a guy through the vents. As he said his piece, a joke sprang to her lips, but the second she heard a familiar name, it was lost. “Wait, did you say Mason? Tall guy who loves pranking the staff and has an uncanny ability to change his appearance on cue?” She could remember every detail of the skinwalker, but no memory was a strong as the way his hand felt in hers. They had spent a few fleeting moments together before the orderlies had dragged them both in, and she remembered the look on her face as he yelled to her “best date ever!” Could that be the Mason that this mysterious voice in the vents with a penchant for singing off-key Green Day meant? It was possible, Monroeville wasn’t exactly huge by any means. She searched her brain for anything close to a less raspy version of his voice, but came up empty. One of the perks of being remarkably antisocial was that she only had a very small circle of people she interacted with on a regular basis, and it was mostly because of this that she felt like she couldn’t really place it. Maybe if she saw him, she might recognize him, but for the moment he was just a disembodied, slightly distorted voice coming from the vent and soothing an aching loneliness that she didn’t ever let herself acknowledge.
How obnoxious.
Upon further explanation of his powers, Sophie was equal parts intrigued and grossed out. Blood and bodily fluids had never really made her feel nauseous to begin with, but she had a very low tolerance for pain of any kind, and the imagined pain of ripping out her own bones was enough to set her empty stomach roiling. “So what you’re saying is you’re a grower and a show-er?” She chuckled at her own off color joke. “Save your demonstration, boner boy, I want to see this for myself.” He’d certainly piqued her curiosity, however, and she couldn’t help but hope that she would get to see this little show sooner rather than later. “Just run through the halls belting out Green Day, I’ll find you eventually. Or, you know, I guess you could ask Mason. There’s probably less orderlies involved that way, and he can usually track me down.”
As far as Sophie was concerned, her ability was both awesome and boring at the exact same time. Sure, she could play around with people’s senses, and enhance their sight or their taste or whatever, but there was precious little that was practical about her power. For example, trapped in a locked room? Being able to see extra good was not going to help you at all. Case in point? This exact one. Even if there wasn’t an ability blocker nearby, there was no way that she could blast her way through that door if she tried. So, while she appreciated her solitary buddy’s excitement for her power, it wasn’t one that she shared. “I can use it on myself, or really anybody so long as they’re within my line of sight. It… can be permanent, depending on what I do.” For example, she could overload someone’s sight until they went completely blind. She wasn’t even sure that was permanent yet, but she had a pretty good feeling that there was no coming back from it. Not that she was telling Green Day about that, not yet. “I don’t really know if I could see outside visible spectrums… I got tossed in here five years ago and they haven’t really been keen on me experimenting with it.” She would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious, now, and quietly made plans to experiment the next time that she was up on the roof, far away from the ability blockers. Though there was still the medication to consider…
“I’ll have you know that mine’s a natural rasp thank you very much.” Somehow, Sophie managed to sound serious. “Or well, could be. Maybe I’ll finally be able to hit those Christina Aguilera riffs.” She hadn’t really meant to say that last part out loud, but she was lacking food and water for what felt like a large number of hours and couldn’t be held accountable for what she said. At least, that was the way this worked in her mind. At Ben’s story, she couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re slightly dramatic?” Fusing his teeth together and making handcuffs out of bone? It was like something directly out of some supernatural play, and she was now convinced that he’d be really damn good on a stage if the mood ever struck him.
“Well… I may or may not have been snooping around the administrative offices. With a set of keys that I allegedly lifted off of the orderly who came to give me my meds. Allegedly.” She had been in Dr. D’Arcy’s office, looking to see what the psychologist had written down about her in one of their last sessions. Something about the look on her face had set Sophie on edge, and she was sure that it wasn’t flattering. “In general I just cause random mayhem where I can. I know I’m in here for life, I see absolutely no reason why it should be boring as shit.”
