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 Elliot Bartholomew Davies on Jan 23, 2019 16:31:51 GMT
❝ Heart beats me down, hollow now this house is a burial ground
I guess I'll just see you around ❞
Size eleven shoes pitter-patted through the halls of Phalanx House. Their gait was clumsy and hurried, their owner breathing erratically. Those that caught a glimpse of the boy running through the house called after him to slow down. Their cries went unheeded. Grabbing onto the banister of the staircase he skidded around the corner, his shoes losing traction for a second threatening to send him careening into the wall. He gripped tightly against the wooden beam and thrust his other hand out, slapping the wall beside him. He landed unceremoniously on his knees but was unperturbed by the fall. Now on all fours, he clambered up the final set of stairs that separated him from his objective.
Elliot beamed childishly as he spotted the door up ahead. He knew it was unlocked he’d left it that way only moments earlier. He threw his tiny body at the door, fiddling with the knob clumsily before throwing the door open. Before him was one of the most breathtaking views of the French Quarter. Possibly one of the most beautiful in all the city but that beauty was lost on him. He didn’t care about beauty, not at that moment at least. Right now, at this very instant, all Elliot Davies cared about was the pursuit of knowledge. Knowledge meant research and research required experimentation.
He had maybe one or two more chances with his experiment before word got around. He knew he’d be in trouble for pulling his little stunt. He hated being in trouble. Trouble used to mean beatings, screaming, crying. Trouble meant hiding and cowering. It didn’t have that meaning now but the thought of it still filled Ell with dread. This, his experiment, it was worth getting into a little bit of trouble.
Just a little.
Ell continued his pace towards the banister. Any other day it would be a powerful deterrent and safeguard, today it was simply an obstacle in his way. The frail-looking boy crouched down and jumped with all of his might. Most days he could barely summon the agility to jump a foot into the air. When the day began he couldn’t get over the banister without straddling it. After several previous experiments, he found that he was now able to clear the four-foot banister with difficulty in a single bound. That was good.
Observation four reaffirmed strength increase is not limited to the upper body.
His mind raced as he soared through that air, aiming to land on the wrought iron guardrail. While Elliot’s newfound superpower had granted him a degree of super strength and durability it did not supplicant those with anything else. No agility, no coordination, no speed beyond what his muscles could coax from his spindly legs. It was little to no surprise that his foot missed the mark, clipping the top of the banister. “Oh crud,” Ell cursed as he tumbled forward.
The fall happened faster than he’d expected. In movies and books, people were always able to go on some grand inner dialogue. The only thing Ell had time to think about as the lush lawn of the Phalanx Grounds came to meet his body was that the lawn was awfully green this time of year.
He hit the ground with a thud, grunting more out of habit than from the impact of the thirty-foot drop. The last four times he’d performed his test he’d jumped off of the ledge, managing to cushion his blow with his legs. This time he’d essentially belly flopped into the yard.
“I’m okay!” he cried out, his tone muffled by the dirt his face was currently planted in. He pushed himself up and sat on his haunches as he began to dust himself off. “A-okay,” he repeated for the benefit of anyone who might have watched the death-defying scene. What he was doing was weird, incredibly weird and dangerous. It was the best way he knew how to test the limits of his powers short of running around and asking people to punch him. That or walking out into traffic and getting hit by a car… again.
Wiping off his hands as best he could, he reached into his pocket and produced a crumpled notebook, a nub of a pencil, and a thermometer. Sprawled in sharpie across the cover were the words “ELLIOT’S SUPERPOWER SCIENCE JOURNAL”. He popped the thermometer into his mouth and took hold of his journal. He leafed through the pages passing various notes, theories, doodles, and questions he’d jotted down. When he finally found a mostly blank page he began to scribble, recording the information he’d gleaned from his repeated falls and subsequent landings.
Fell off of roof, didn’t jump. Hurt more than jumping but still not as bad as I thought it would. Maybe because I bit my tongue. Nothing broken though, Elliot stopped writing and paused, looking down at his shirt. He patted his thorax and gave an affirming nod, “Yep, nothing broken,”I was able to jump the banister without using a chair as a stool. Hypothesis that my power might be along the same vein as Sebastian Shaw’s or Strong Guy’s is holding strong.
The thermometer beeped and Ell tilted it upward with his tongue glancing at the digital screen. Body temperature is 97.9, .2 degree jump from the last fall. Need to find something to lift or bend to test upper body strength. Elliot jumped up and yanked the thermometer from his mouth, ready to find something to try his strength on. The crack in his left hand halted him in his tracks though.
Hesitantly he looked down at the hand that held the thermometer or what had been a thermometer. “Oh no,” Elliot dropped his journal and cupped the pulverized gauge in his hand. “Oh no, no no no no,” he repeated, trying to fit bits of plastic and circuitry back together. “Mr. Perona’s gonna be mad.” Elliot had borrowed the thermometer with every intention of returning it when he was done. There was zero chance of that happening now. The boy frantically looked around, looking for anyone that could help him get out of the trouble he would inevitably get into.
Because accidentally breaking a fifteen dollar thermometer was infinitely worse than purposefully throwing himself off of a roof.
Post by Ezra John Davies on Jan 28, 2019 3:08:25 GMT
Most of the time, Ezra felt thankful for his siblings. He was so incredibly grateful that they had been reunited.
Sometimes, though, he wanted to disown them.
Hollars had traveled through the halls of Phalanx, a commotion everyone there had grown accustomed to. Although despite chaos being a common theme in the building, Ezra always felt the need to find its cause. Because there was always a voice in the back of his mind telling him that his brother was doing something stupid. Often enough, the voice was wrong.
"I'm okay!"
Upon hearing the words Ezra regretted leaving his room to investigate.
"Are you, though?" he muttered, slowly dragging a hand down his face as he made his way to an exit-- a safe exit that didn't involve jumping off of a roof.
He should have known that Elliot was fucking around. He wasn't in their room-- what else could he have possibly been doing? It was Elliot. Elliotmade Ezra feel like a nagging adult, and for that, Ezra wanted to hit his brother over the back of his head.
He approached Elliot, the boy writing in a notebook and talking to himself. The temptation to turn his head and go back to his room grew with each step, but Ezra pushed forward.
"Mr. Perona's gonna be mad." "When he hears you jumped off a roof? Yea, probably," Ezra said incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "People inside were saying that you jumped off a roof. Tell me you didn't jump off the roof," he said, crossing his arms. Seconds later, regardless of the boy's response, Ezra knew that he had jumped off the roof. It was all over his face.
Ezra's voice began to rise, his temper flaring. "Ell-- what the hell, man?" He most definitely wasn't qualified to deal with this. Who even knew how to deal with this? He glanced at the book, shaking his head. "You're going to get yourself killed. What is this-- are you trying to do research or something?" he asked, reaching for the notebook.
Post by Elliot Bartholomew Davies on Feb 2, 2019 7:14:11 GMT
❝ Heart beats me down, hollow now this house is a burial ground
I guess I'll just see you around ❞
"Ezra!" Elliot twirled toward his brother and presented him with the shattered thermometer. "Ezra! You gotta help me! I was doing something," Ell felt it best to neglect that something was jumping off of buildings, "and I accidentally broke the thermometer I borrowed. We gotta -"
Tell me you didn't jump off the roof,
Elliot fell silent under his brother's inquries, his lips pursing together and his eyes glancing off to the side. "Uhhhh," The boy was at a loss for words. On the best of days, he could barely summon the nerve to lie to a perfect stranger. Standing before his elder brother Elliot couldn't even think of a bad lie. "A little?" He pinched his fingers together and held them up for Ezra to see, demonstrating just how little he'd jumped off of the roof. "Five times is a little, right?"
He had a sinking feeling that no matter what number he offered up Ezra and Mr.Perona were not going to be happy with him. He'd thought that he'd steeled himself for a situation such as this. That he was ready to press his luck in the pursuit of science and knowledge. He was beginning to rethink that stance. The youngest of the Davies bit his bottom lip and looked to the ground, grinding the ball of his foot into the ground as he tried to summon up something, anything that he could have said to his brother that would have made the situation at least an iota better.
He winced when Ezra told him that he was gonna die from continuing his experiments. Ell wanted to argue and say that it would take a bigger fall than a few stories to hurt him let alone kill him. He couldn't find it in him to answer, feeling as if he'd shrunk to the size of an ant under Ezra's verbal barrage. Since Piper had left Ell had grown accustomed to Ezra's chastising. When it had been just the two of them Ez had shouldered the mantle that Piper and Jaxon had left behind. He'd become both Elliot's sibling and parent. It was a role that was harder for him to juggle than their other siblings mostly due to how close Ezra and Elliot were in age. Still, Elliot deferred to Ezra in all things in the absence of Jaxon and Piper.
Ezra provided the perfect segway to Ell's redemption as he reached down and took ahold of his scientific journal. "Yeah, kinda," Elliot forgot the broken guage in his hand for the moment. "I'm trying to understand my powers. Like, how they work and everything. I'm not jumping off the roof for fun. I'm doing it for science. You can't be mad at me for trying to learn, can you?" That familiar hesitance creeping into his voice, his eyes widening as he looked up to Ezra. "I'd google it but Google doesn't have a superpower section."
"Look, I'm fine though. Not a scratch on me. Well, a few scratches and I bit my tongue on the way down the last time but I mean, I'm waaaaaay better off than most people would be if they faceplanted from thirty feet up. So, I definitely can't be in trouble for getting hurt. Nope. Unless it's the yard... Are you mad about the yard? Is Mr.Perona gonna be mad about the yard?" Ell looked toward the large divets he'd made as well as the roughly human-shaped one he'd just peeled himself out of.
Post by Ezra John Davies on Mar 5, 2019 21:19:59 GMT
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Ezra gave Elliot a look, glancing at the thermometer. "Ell, the thermometer doesn't matter. He can go get another one," he pointed out incredulously. What they couldn't get was another Elliot... which made Ezra concerned.
He wasn't going to say that part out loud, though.
Agitation flooded Ezra's face when Elliot admitted that he'd jumped several times. "Elliot," he said with disapproval, shaking his head. "Stop jumping off the roof," he said, because maybe the kid needed a direct order to understand that jumping off the roof was not appropriate behavior.
"What if you accidentally fell on someone, or hurt yourself? Just because you've been able to handle it all this time doesn't mean you understand everything," he pointed out. Just because Elliot hadn't gotten hurt yet didn't mean it wasn't possible. It just meant he hadn't figured out how yet. And Ezra didn't want him to.
Could he really be mad for Elliot trying to learn?
Yes.
"Don't be so stupid about it," he muttered, shaking his head again while dragging his hand down his face. "You can have your experiments while being more careful," he said, reaching for the journal so he could take a look at it.
Elliot mentioned that he was fine and it did bring Ezra some relief. Still, he was aggravated.
"I don't care about how other people would be if they fell off a roof. I care about you. So stop being an idiot," he deadpanned, glancing at the yard.
He sighed, shaking his head. "Mr. Perona just wants you to be safe," he pointed out, though it wouldn't hurt to fix the yard.
"Let's go get some grass seed," he suggested, gesturing for him to follow. Maybe if they made a garden, it would distract from the fact that Elliot had decided to splatter brain cells across the yard.
Post by Elliot Bartholomew Davies on Mar 29, 2019 19:06:04 GMT
❝ Heart beats me down, hollow now this house is a burial ground
I guess I'll just see you around ❞
“I-uhm-uh, I didn’t think about that. I just kinda assumed that everyone would stay out of my way. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, Ezra. I was trying to- I was just… Am I in trouble?” A lump grew in Elliot’s throat that only seemed to grow harder to talk past as time went on. The entire time Ezra had spoken to him he hadn’t raised his voice any higher than he usually did. The look on his face was enough to cause his eyes to sting and grow misty. The boy never did well with this sort of pressure. The swell, the crescendo, the rising action before something bad truly happened. He’d lived with it for too long, looking for those subtle signs that the monotony of life would be interrupted by intense moments of fear.
He knew Ezra, he knew his brother would never do anything to him, but those learned survival instincts knew no logic nor any other emotion besides fear. No matter who spoke to him in such a manner Elliot would have reacted much the same. He couldn’t help his eyes watering, the frog in his throat, or shrinking beneath his brother’s gaze. The look of utter disappointment only made the situation worse.
Elliot wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, doing his utmost to hide his nervousness under the pretense of wiping away dirt. He cleared his throat and when his vision returned to him Ezra was offering him his book. The look of disgust had faded and turned into one of exasperation. Elliot could deal with that. Ezra usually looked exasperated. Whatever leak had sprung behind his eyes was stopped. Ell took the notebook with both hands and clutched it to his chest. He still found it difficult to speak and only nodded in confirmation.
When his brother informed him that he cared about him every sign of the ensuing breakdown vanished. The corners of his lips twitched upward and he gave another nod.
“Mister Perona’s pretty nice, huh? I like him.” Elliot hadn’t had much interaction with the man but that was mostly on Ell’s part. He naturally avoided contact with the adults unless he absolutely had to, skirting under their radar and systematically staying out of their daily paths. Usually, he only expected the best of people but with his recent departure from the foster system, he was rather raw.
Without much prompting Elliot trailed along behind Ezra like a shadow, much how he had always done. “Where are we gonna get grass seed, Ez? I don’t have any money.” Elliot turned his pockets inside out, showering the ground beneath him with lint and stray Jolly Rancher wrappers. In his hand, he held a grand total of seventeen cents. As his mind worked he began to make not so much leaps as bounds to wild conclusions. It was odd how he could pull him out of a downward spiral like he had been on and instantly go back to being a complete overly chipper nerd.
“Unless do you know someone who can make stuff grow? Like plants and stuff? Like Poison Ivy or Swamp-Thing? Oh man, that’d be such a cool power. That’d be way easier to figure out than whatever the heck I’ve got. We should have them grow a tree so we can build a tree house. I always wanted a tree house.” Suddenly, the prospect of being in trouble was practically forgotten.
Post by Ezra John Davies on Apr 19, 2019 18:18:01 GMT
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christ, why did yelling at ell have to feel like yelling at a puppy?
ezra hated feeling things.
his brother rambled in an attempt to defend his actions and ezra didn't need to be told that elliot hadn't meant to cause anyone any harm. still, he nodded.
"i know," he muttered. "but you could have. you're not in trouble. but you need to think about these things when you're..."
when you're jumping off a building? he didn't want to say the words.
"just think, okay?" he just wanted the kid to think.
he sighed, shaking his head as he picked up on the signs of fear emanating from his brother. he knew the kid wasn't afraid of him-- ezra had never even come close to hurting elliot, despite his temper. he would never.
but ezra knew, all too well, where the instinct came from. the same lived within his own body. and very little mattered to ezra more than reinforcing the fact that elliot was okay when he was with him-- that he could tell ezra anything.
"come here," he said, putting an arm around him and rubbing his shoulder. "it's okay. we'll fix it," he promised.
"yea, he's nice," he agreed in regard to elliot's comment on mr. perona. ezra liked him. ezra liked very few adults, but he liked astor. the man had more than earned his respect.
elliot asked where they were going to get grass seed and... it was a damn good question.
"no--i don't know a... plant person...thing. i have an idea," he assured, leading him back inside and looking around.
"stay here," he requested, gesturing toward the door. "i'll be right back."
he went to find Astor Oliver Perona and explained what had happened, apologizing a hundred times and asking for just enough money to go buy some seed packets.
he returned to his brother quickly, patting his arm. "let's go for a walk. i think there's some gardening stuff in the dollar store around the corner."
