Hokee Chogen « Result #1 on Nov 17, 2009, 4:05am »
Codename: None Real Name: Hokee Chogan Aliases: None Affiliation: undetermined Age: 15 Height: 5’4 Weight: 140 Hair color: Black Eye color: Brown
Appearance: Hokee’s skin is a deeply rich tanned color with very little arm or leg hair. When joyful his eyes perk up to a brilliant heart warming brown but mostly are half open as if light itself is to much to handle. His teeth are fairly white with a few chips off to the left top side of his mouth, though his mouth remains shut unless speaking is necessary.
Hokee’s hair runs halfway down his back and is frequently in a loose ponytail with multiple bands in different locations holding his hair in place. His hair is slick and silky smooth to the touch. A small black head band is often worn in combination with ponytail or when his hair lays freely. Hokee gravitates towards black and brown with his clothing, gravitates towards tighter form fitting clothing.
Personality: Tends to keep to self though if befriended will slowly open up. Very closed off to people at first and he finds it hard to trust “the white man”. Hokee believes in the concept that an individual should look out for himself first before being concerned with others. With a slight egotistical approach to life, it is based on survival tactics rather than on selfish ambitions. This is highly influenced by the way he was raised along with his environment.
In school, Hokee was a drifter he never really fitting into any group of kids in particular. Desperately though he seeks to be accepted by others and wants that sense of security. Pessimistic by nature he feels that he will never amount to much since his own family had little success for generations. With a lack of a role model Hokee easily dabbles in activities he shouldn’t, all in search for acceptance.
Petty theft is a common occurrence and lately Hokee has been known for sneaking off at night. He has a deep love for Astronomy along with nature. Despite his lack of motivation, he is confident with what he does. He tends to be more feminine then masculine and is frequently missed gendered. He does have a short temper and will spar without reason if egged on.
Hokee would be most likely to blow up his high school, if that was an option in the year book. His acts of violence are not what suggests this but he tends to brew over things that upset him making a larger reaction later then might be necessary. Hokee is at a trivial period of time in his life, bordering the line he sits on the fence of good and evil unsure of which will provide him with the better benefits in life.
Special weaponry: NONE
Mutant abilities:Umbrakinesis: This is a skill that Hokee is still trying to figure out and most of the time when he is using it, it is by accident or under pressure. Currently Hokee is able to increase the area mass that shadows or darkness occupy. In order to do this there has to be a source, he is not able to create shadows at the moment. When at full potential Hokee will have the ability to give more texture to the shadows that he manipulates. The texture that he will eventually be able to create will give shadows more of a physical depth perception and will have more form. Currently though all he can do with the shadows is just expand the distance they cover and make them slightly darker.
Blending/camouflage: Hokee uses the skill of blending frequently. He has also used this in combination with his umbrakinesis on a few occasions together. In these cases he was at heightened stimulation of survival needs. The changes he makes with blending are through his skin, a gradual change similar to lizards, other known as dermal. Depending on how much he is focusing the changing process can decrease in time for changing. At full potential Hokee will be able to change his skin appearance at a very quick rate.
Hokee is still adjusting to understanding these powers and has not fully made the connection that the two work together simultaneously. When he is aware of what is happening to his body he is able to take more control over what is happening. He can focus more on manipulating shadows mainly or blending his skin to a mix between the natural surroundings and the actual shadows he can hide in.
Weaknesses:Empathy: If someone has empathy effect on him, he is subject to having those warm fuzzy feelings. It also muddles his thought process, making him question his own current actions. Hokee also gets confused over if the empathy towards him in sincere or not. Since Hokee has desires of feeling needed, if empathetic manipulation is used he will be highly susceptible to it, making a smaller effort of it placed on him react as if it were in full power. Telepathy: One voice in his head is enough to handle let alone the naggings of grandparents and the taunting that sticks in his head. Hokee tends to build grudges on others and a new voice in his head would lead to trusting issues down the road. The new voice in his head could also be lost in the other mutterings of his mind, though if it is persistent enough it might bring him to a fit of rage.
Umbrakinesis and Blending: Since Hokee does not have night vision he has to be careful when moving in extremely dark shadows, with combination of his blending it is easy for him to loose track of where his own body is when he is not concentrating. Since he is still adjusting to having mutant abilities the consistency is not guaranteed which makes for awkward situations. The farther away from a light source the smaller the shadows he has ability to manipulate, though these shadows tend to have a thicker density and are darker. If Hokee is closer to the source of light the shadows tent to be larger but dimmer. Depending on how close he is to the light source depends on how much more effort and power is needed. Also the closer he is to the light source the harder it is to keep a consistent blending since the shadows are not dark enough presenting him with dermal dilemma of wanting to turn transparent, which it cannot do.
Additional abilities: Street running, climbing.
History: Hokee was born and raised on the Onondaga Reservation (Native American land in the USA) living with his grandparents. His mother abandoned him at birth leaving him with his father and grandparents. Like any good life on the Reservation his father was distant to him, and was often found drinking his life away. His grandparents supplied his basic needs but he never felt fully wanted in any affectionate way. As Hokee grew a little older, middle school started and the feelings of ostracized increased. His hair was long and drew attention to him for taunting from other kids. Though his hair was a source of remarks Hokee found that he could hide his face from others in his hair, thus finding security. In attempts to gain acceptance from his peers he soon started to perform petty acts of crime, minor shop lifting and such. His respect level from others increased slightly but he was still not fully accepted by others. Hokee continued to search for happiness through acts of destructive behavior. After a few nights in juvie though the streak of bad behavior slimed down. However, his inappropriate behavior was placed on the backburner on discovery of his new talents. With this discovery, Hokee became possessive of his time alone. The desires for acceptance dwindled as his self-absorption increased. In his room Hokee has been experimenting with what he can do. With a semi knowledge of what he can do with this new talent, Hokee has been roaming the streets at night experimenting with street running combined with his mutant abilities. Unsure of what he could do with these talent, Hokee is trying to train himself and understand what is going on with himself. With his growing understanding of these new talents, Hokee has been experimenting with what his limits are. Wanting to know his own limits, Hokee believes that he will be able to improve the productivity of his nightly activities. He has plans of hotwiring his father’s pickup truck and taking off to an area where he can make more of a profit, though he is hesitant to make the move to fulfill this adventurous dream.
Sample RP: Two red lights blinked repeatedly across the darken room, a pale light from outside the window seeping a slight glow casting shadows on the wall. Shadowed reflections of the tree branches danced across the bronzed boy’s face. CLICK. Rolling his head to the side, long strands of silken black hair slid across his face. A sweaty hand brushed the hairs to the side staring at the clock, 3:33am. The air seemed so sticky and stale, when would the rain come again and rid the heat wave? Tossed on the floor was a half-busted fan, if only it worked it might make it easier to fall asleep.
This was pointless, laying in bed and not sleeping, maybe he could get some good tagging in for the night. Laying still he listened to the dead air, it sounded clear, no drunken yelling or cracking television shows. As the boy rolled off to the side of the bed, it gave a slight groan. Waving his hand under the bed he finally felt a slick silky like material, pulling it up he shifted on the bed pulling on the pair of black basketball shorts. Shifted to the floor now, the hands rummaged until they felt the coolness of the cans pulling them out and quickly shoving them into a drawstring bag. Small clicks rattled about, but nothing loud enough to wake those who were fortunate enough to fall asleep. Tossing the bag onto his back Hokee pulled the screen up for the window letting his body pass threw.
This was nothing new, just another night, another night of not staying cooped up in the house. A house he loved and loathed at once. One day he’d get out, get out for good and be free. Just a few paces on the roof and he would be able to jump down out of view of the windows. Soon his bare feet felt the warm grass under himself. Even the grass seemed to be complaining about the heat wave. Keeping low to the ground his long hair flowed on his back like a whispering shadow mimicking the images of the tree’s branches on the ground.
Sneaking around the house, Hokee finally reached the small front porch where a pair of sneakers lay. Sitting down the sneakers found their way to the sockless feet and shortly were not running down the loose gravel driveway. Freedom, it was so close now. The dead air pushed the long hair back as Hokee continued running through the Reservation. The diversity within was mind-boggling. A mansion like home could stand right next to a trailer house, one with plumbing and the other without, there was no rich side or poor side, they all mingled together. It didn’t take long to reach the rubble remains of a decent sized house. Abandoned homes were not out of common, nor were half burnt down homes. Slowing down his pace his heart rushed forward still.
The yard shot flashing memories. Slowing down he could hear the sounds from the past throbbing through his head. The taunting he received here, the hazing, the pain, all this boiled his growing grudge. Reaching behind his back the bag slid down his arm. Soon the hand was armed with a can of spray paint. The pale light from the moon was enough to work with. Soon the air was filled with the smell of aerosol and paint. Nothing like inhaling fumes so early in the morning.
Something smelled strange, something smelled like burning diapers with popcorn. Soon the sound of crashing bottles and ragging profanity polluted his solitude. Another drunken arsonist attack on the Reservation for sure. He’d still have time though, no need to stop his own need for expression. The fumes continued to fill the air as the graffiti expanded across the weather battered shingles. Though soon enough the sirens came blaring as lights flashed down the road.
Hokee gave one last spray but was frozen in his tracks. The spray paint can seemed to be hovering in the air, but at the same time he swore he could feel it in his hand. The can dropped to the ground rolling unnoticed to Hokee as his eyes were glued to the side of the house now. His hand, there was something wrong with it, something very strange was happening. It looked like the can was still floating I air, but only part of it was there. Wiggling his fingers, the coloration slowly started to change to the color background. Something was really strange here. Did he inhale much spray paint fumes or maybe his lack of sleep was making his eyes play tricks on him.
The sirens grew louder as the flashing lights broke through this haze like dream. He had to get out of there, and fast. If he got caught out here at this hour, he was sure to be blamed for setting a fire. For some reason the lights seemed brighter then normal. He needed to hide, get away from what could toss him back in Juvie again. Sorry rooming with some of the guys there was not a highlight of his life at all. Never would he look at showers the same. Headlights beamed through the yard towards where Hokee stood like a dumbfounded deer. It took a while for the idea in his head to translate into his muscles of his body to drop to the ground and try to hide. Pressing his body tight against the siding of the house he wished with all his might that he wouldn’t be noticed in all the chaos that was bound to start. The shadows around him almost seemed like they shifted and drew over his body as a protective covering. Doing a military crawl his bare chest dragged under his body towards the back of the house. Uncertain of this was some hallucination or if what he was seeing was real, he knew one thing, he needed to get home fast.
The shadows continued to cover his body, in a strange eerie way he felt like they were stalking him, though he was glad he had some sort of covering. Once free from the headlights the shadows seemed to snake their way away from him, letting him go as if he was a bird learning how to fly.
Time rushed by quicker then it ever seemed to go before. Soon Hokee found himself jumping off the tree to grab the ledge of the roof to pull his body up. The screen of the window flew up as he tumbled through the window tossing his shoes under his bed with the now empty bag. Laying on the floor his heart rushed as his chest cavity frantically fought to catch his breath again. What was going on with him? Turning his head to the side Hokee watched the dancing shadows casted by the tree. Watching them he couldn’t help but wonder what they would look like in other formations, different shapes. As his mind thought about it, he was almost certain that the shadows started to change shape, maybe not exactly what he was looking for but it wasn’t the same shadows he just saw.
Nearly jumping out of his skin, Hokee was soon standing on his bed staring at the floor in amazed fear. The shadows were moving, moving in a way he never saw them move before. Sweat rolled down the sides of his face, his long hair damp now from his activities. Loosing his balance standing on his bed the teen soon crashed off his bed onto the floor on the other side landing in a pile of dirty clothes.
Loosing all sense of time and common decency a scream of terror struck out of his body. His skin was shifting again, although this time he could see the colors changing. Something was wrong here, this was not normal, this was not human this was not…his door flung open as a familiar voice called out. Great now what was he going to do? Staggering in with a bathrobe half pulled on was his grandmother with hair on her legs thicker then a female should ever have. “Hokee? Hokee?”
“Nothing….bad dream…go back to bed.” Bad dream all right, this was a living nightmare. If it wasn’t bad enough the shadows were crawling around on his floor and his skin was changing colors, he now had to deal with a hairy leg grandmother!
Logan led the way through the halls without narrative. Warren had been here before and most changes were only cosmetic so the nickel tour was unnecessary. Emma's little touches were everywhere and that was something else that didn't need to be elaborated on. The feeling of a space for living bled away as they descended on the elevator down to the halls devoted almost exclusively to survival on a far baser level. What weapons existed down here were locked up and, truthfully, nearly useless in terms of the people who called this place home.
Weapons in the house that Chuck built tended to be young living breathing beings with an excess of emotion and certainty in their own immortality. The training facilities in the underground section of the mansion were meant as a way to remind the kids that came here that the fight for equality could be life and death with no do-overs or game resets. The MedLab sat ahead of them when the elevator door opened and Logan knew as sure as Mr. Carter's made little liver pills that Hank was aware of their visitor. Nonetheless, it was only polite to announce your betters and he smirked slightly as the door to the lab opened.
"Hank! I got a visitor yer gonna wanna see. Put away tha Twinkies and the scientific journals an' bring out tha bottled water." Leading the way into the lab, he stepped back and waited for Warren to join him. "We got help workin' on our problem, even if he won't join me in a bottle of that swill Americans call beer."
Joined: May 2005 Gender: Male Posts: 697 Location: Canada (no... really!) Karma: 12
Re: The More Things Change... (Logan, Storm/Cyke) « Result #3 on Nov 16, 2009, 12:12am »
Logan didn't mention that they hadn't gotten very far with the tape because of the other matters that had come up. Between Sabretooth, assassinations, and other rumblings from within, he was surprised any of the adults at the Institute could find their underwear in the mornings, never mind time to sort through a conspiracy that was showing all the signs of being far flung and in the realms of various governmental agencies. They knew the tapes had been modified but by whom was the mystery that needed to be unraveled. Knowing that the modifications had been made were useless without the other half of the puzzle and there would be no convincing anyone in power without both pieces. There were more than enough alphabet soup agencies out there gunning for them and yet Logan didn't think it was one of them. How he couldn't say - instinct was a bitch as much as a boon.
He swiftly put away the tools and locked things up to keep from corrupting any impressionable sorts who might wander into the garage. Warren went ahead and did a reasonable impersonation of a paranoid man, which given the climate of the world wasn't a bad thing.
"Yeah, I get that a lot... must be my sparklin' personality," Logan grouched mildly as he dumped the nearly untouched beer down the sink and washed his hands. They were going into Henry's lair and it was best to be as clean as possible. Warren would pass the muster and Logan didn't want to give Beast a reason to complain. Wiping his hands on a clean towel, he turned on heel and studied Warren for a moment. If it was an apology, he accepted it the same way he would have taken a barbed word - silently. Tossing the towel on the counter, he gave his head a jerk towards the door.
"C'mon, let's go find Fuzzy an' see what enlightenment he can shed on the subject."
Re: Bonding (Open) « Result #4 on Nov 14, 2009, 2:26am »
Bobby gave a courteous head nod that said “thank you” as she passed him the bowl. He grabbed a handful and threw some in his mouth. To his surprise the popcorn had turned to popcorn-cicles. Funny, he thought, that usually only happens when I’m nervous. He focused his energy to absorbing the moisture back out of the rest that were in his hand when Rahne asked him a question.
“Oh, Bond? He gets a new car, cool toys, and a gorgeous woman in every flick. He’s practically my idol.”
Stupid. The word that came to his mind immediately as he the words came out of his mouth. He forgot Rahne didn’t really get his sense of humor. He figured he’d follow it up with something on the more serious side. “But really, me and my dad used to watch these all the time. Brings back memories. Good memories.”
He got quiet and looked back at the screen, seeing that a scantily clad dressed woman was now on screen, he tried his hardest to act mature and keep from drooling. “I gotta admit: you’re the rest of the fairer sex that I’ve seen who are into the Bond. You just scored alotta cool points, Rahne.” He ended the phrase by raising both eyebrows and smiling deviously before turning back to the screen. His popcorn was freezing again.
Joined: Jan 2007 Gender: Female Posts: 154 Karma: 7
Re: Bonding (Open) « Result #5 on Nov 11, 2009, 11:08am »
Bond was classic. Even recognizing that Hollywood magic was the cause of his larger-than-life style and skill, Rahne remained impressed. The knife fight on the train was superb: far more accurate than the high-wire theatrics of the modern action film. In fact, maybe she could use it to teach the students. Then again, many of them were able to mimic the physics-defying acts of today’s movies. And if they made fun of this “old” flick…
Maybe it was best to keep this film to herself.
Just as she had that thought, she heard someone come in from the back doors. She kept her eyes glued to the screen, hoping that there was no catastrophe causing someone to look for her. When immediate interruption didn’t happen, she assumed someone was just curious. Stealing a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw it was Iceman. Bobby. Despite herself, she winced a little.
They hadn’t had the best start, and he’d come across as the talkative sort. She steeled herself for a rude interruption… that never came.
To her surprise, Bobby was quiet (at least for normal people; it wasn’t his fault her ears were sensitive enough to pick up every footstep) and respectful, keeping his mouth shut as he sat nearby and started watching the movie in silence. Maybe she’d judged him too harshly. After all, he was one of the founding X-Men, and her teammate. And if he was a Bond fan, then he couldn’t be all that bad, right?
When he whispered his request for popcorn, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye and considered being flippant as a joke. It might come off poorly, though, and she didn’t want to start (another) argument. So, after a brief hesitation, she offered him the bowl.
They sat a moment more in silence interrupted only by the fighting on the screen and the crunch of the popcorn. Finally, she decided to break the ice. Watching this movie was a tradition, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen the film before. Looking Bobby’s way, and nodding toward the screen, she whispered, “So… ye’re a Bond fan?”
Alignment - Good...? Bad...? I'm the guy with the gun.
Joined: Sept 2006 Gender: Male Posts: 163 Karma: 7
Re: Resolution « Result #6 on Nov 9, 2009, 1:48am »
David listened to Storm (he still could not think of her as Ororo) move closer. He was curious about her willingness to trust him, they’d shared few words short of her upbraiding on the museum trip. Listening to her speak without taking any tone from her voice, which was on the whole calming as could be expected from someone who’d long been a teacher. He was interested in her thoughts as she gave them freely to the discourse. Certainly there would be some distortion between what she said and what she meant but that was all to be expected because of the trouble translating thought to words. Only telepaths did not suffer this loss of meaning, though he did not care for the other effects of their powers. No, words were sufficent for his needs as they had been for the human race across the majority of time.
“Life is what happens when you’re too busy dealing with the daily disasters,” he said at last, confirming the Catch-22 nature of the whole damned exercise. He’d programmed the room for his own use, several different scenarios involving missions like the one he had undertaken with Rahne in charge – break in, get the goods, escape. The idea of the exercise was to do all this without running into anyone, to pull off the caper without seeing a single soul and if he did run into anyone, to disarm them and leave them alive. It was difficult to overcome the well-worn urge to shoot first but he persisted with his own internal Catch-22 mission. What was learned might never be unlearned, but it could be mitigated.
He hoped.
Slumped in the chair, he looked up at her and gave her a faint smile when she said she also felt the need to unleash her frustrations. He had no doubts that her violence could be far more destructive than his, even with the advances in modern technology and he sat up slowly, nodding as he listened to her speak. Her discipline was commendable and he waited for the question he had asked to be answered or deftly shunted aside. If she shunted it aside, he wouldn’t be offended. Storm had no reason to share that with him but she did and he tilted his head to take it all in, considering it a while before nodding. It was a position he understood and not very far from the reason he held dear. Train until it’s ingrained. If you didn’t have to think, you could just act and escape the gauntlet if not unscathed, then alive.
David did not ask her about the subtext of her decision to train as she did. The choice of programs said it all. She fought the unwinnable fight, working each time to make a victory of a disaster. Some might call it futile, but David wondered what it was she was trying to control… the outcome or her own emotional reaction to it. With a soft grunt, he scratched the back of his head then looked at his watch.
“If you’ve got a program in mind, I’ve got the time,” he declared, fighting back the urge to add a less than gentlemanly quip. Storm hadn’t had time to learn about his often odd sense of humour, so she’d earned a bye on any innuendo-filled comments for now. He really didn’t feel being fried this early in the morning and didn’t heal all that quickly in any case. Getting to his feet, David stepped away from the console so she could choose the program, then looked her over and grinned, unable to help himself. “You’re better looking than most company I suffer, so that’s already a bonus for the early bird.”
Re: Bonding (Open) « Result #7 on Nov 7, 2009, 11:44pm »
Bobby sat up as he slowly opened his eyes and stretched with a big yawn. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep, but it was difficult to tell the time between the darkness caused by his thick blinds and all of his dirty clothes thrown over his alarm clock among other things.
He made his first step out of his bed only to find his Playstation 3 controller on the ground beneath him. The week break had been good to him, no work or classes, all he did was sit back and play his PS3 that was given by some anonymous donor. Call of Duty soon became his favorite game and he thought about getting a quick match in but decided against it. He needed to get out of the room.
He walked around for a little while, eventually walking near the school’s theater. He heard and felt the loud thumb of the bass kicking from inside the bulky doors. His curiosity outweighed his boredom so he decided to head in and see what was going on. It was dark; all he could see was Bond. James Bond. He walked around the small room to see if live any bodies were around.
But, he recognized the silhouette of Rahne. Bobby hadn’t seen her since the previous week and decided that it would be a good idea to spend some quality time with his new partner. He sat close to her, but left enough room for her to not be uncomfortable.
“So, you gonna share that popcorn?” he asked quietly.
Re: The More Things Change... (Logan, Storm/Cyke) « Result #8 on Nov 5, 2009, 9:48pm »
"Welcome to the new millenium, Warren, where the lies stream faster than videos on the Internet."
That earned a smirk from the playboy, if that were the case then he was still living in dial up mode. He shook his head and smiled, Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it." He thought for a moment and took a sip of the beer, "You'd think I'd be used to something like this by now. I've been dealing with it my entire life." He heard the words he'd spoken, of course, but that didn't make acknowledging the situation any easier. Because he couldn't do what needed to be done, that boy was dead. Amanda was dead. He should have been able to do more. He could have done more for both of them.
He wasn't surprised to hear that they hadn't gotten very far on this. He himself had studied the tape. The digital alterations to the film were practically flawless, only his eyes had allowed him to see something he couldn't convince anyone else was there. A shadow that didn't match up with the boy's position. Even so, the video was virtually seamless. It had been a professional job. Of that he had no doubt. So much so that it was going to be impossible to prove it was a forgery, or worse prove that the real footage was indeed the real footage. If he hadn't been there he would not have known the released footage was fake.
He smiled when Logan called him a man of the new millenium - it was term first applied to him by people magazine a few years before. Little did the editors know that not too long after the magazine came to press that he would fall victim to an explosion as his plane took off. His 'death' would make their next cover. He was grateful for Wolverine's invitation, it was what he wanted, "I appreciate it."
No matter what the issues had been between the two, Warren knew that Logan had his back. Wolverine had always been there for him. Ironic, given the fact that he'd hated the man before he'd gotten to know him. Thankfully now, he knew that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. He was grateful for the chance to rid himself of the beer when given the opportunity. He'd tried to drink it and Logan's comment nailed him. He laughed as a result, unable to deny the truth when he heard it. He did prefer pretentious ales and lagers over the more straight forward middle American brews favored by the working man. He might have taken offense, but in this case he felt it was better to accept the jab for what it was and just move on.
"Maybe I just missed you Wolverine," Warren joked, though he had to admit that Logan had made this very easy for him. A lot easier than it could have been. He sighed, "I didn't want anyone to know that I was coming out here today. Phones can be tapped. If someone is setting me up for a fall...the least I can do is NOT help them out." He looked over at Logan and continued, "Or endanger my friends." Was it an apology? Maybe it was.
After everything that took place on the Island, Xavier took in the teenagers he rescued. He brought them back to the mansion and started to teach them control of their powers. Before they can become a team they must learn to work together and put all their differences aside. They must rise above everything to stop the first wave of mutant protests and the beginning of an even larger battle.
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