OOC:
I said intro's... Ok, I'm fine with your posts. But lets let Lil'Ninja and Seraph get their posts in. K guys? As another note, PLEASE READ EVERYONE'S POSTS so that nothing gets confusing! Make sure you read it and know before posting. Thank you. (This hasn't happened yet, but I'm going to try and prevent it.)
A theme song for our Unwinds;
Rooftops - Lost Prophets.
OK Rock, but I specifically said what the tattoo was in the New RPG thread.
@Mister:
the air around her shimmered and she vanished
Is she an angel? I don't mind Angels, but I don't like to play around with them. ^^ If she were just human that would be better. I'm trying to keep this fairly down to earth. Also, the point of a Roleplay is that only the story-line is planned out. You decide who to meet where etc. So if you really want to meet somebody you'll have to make them interact. Currently its nighttime. (Apparently) So, see what you can work with. Maybe you could interact with Amara?
IC: Amara stepped out into the dark streets and shivered. He glanced around making sure he was alone and then silently walked down the street to the meeting-place. He stepped into the rusty building and the bulb flickered above his head.
"Finally, geez Johnson, we thought you chickened out." One of the gang boys said grinning. Amara pushed his brown-blonde hair from his face and shook his head, "I'm no coward." he said calmly.
"Good." The guys smirked, "let's do this then." They shoved past Amara, he moved into the group of twenty guys. His rainbow eyes shifted over them all as they walked. The dark streets provided perfect protection for the pack of teens.
"Ok, the job is simple," the boss turned, "take the money, shoot the man, get out." He chuckled, "this'll teach that old geezer." He pounded a metal pole in his hand. Amara blinked. He knew they intended to kill the guy but he hoped he could stop it. They turned the corner and there sat the mansion. The kids snuch to their positions and when they were ready a crescendo of sound exploded in the night air. Glass shattered and fell to the lawn and street. The teen jumped through the shattered windows and most of them went immediately to the vault.
Amara moved up the steps, unnoticed by the rest of the gang and he peeked into a room, not the right one. He cursed and kept searching.
"What'cha lookin' for Johnson?" Amara froze at the sneering voice.
"The old man sleeps here."
Amara turned and saw the gang leader standing by a double-doored bedroom. He hissed, knowing how stupid he had been to think it would be one of the single-doors. "Wanna see him?" the leader asked chuckling. Amara nodded, his black hood falling further over his face. He walked up to the leader and the teen opened the door and in the dark room was a bed. Amara moved silently too the bed nad looked down. His heart skipped a beat. An older man lay in the bed sleeping. The sound of a gun being cocked made him turn.
The leader sneered, "Take this you old fart." He held the gun up and aimed at the old man. Amara lunged and grabbed the leader's hand yanking the gun from him.
"No you can't!" He said glaring furiously. Not that the leader could see.
"Oh, somebody's a goody-two-shoes." Suddenly two more gang members were in the room and they both had guns. "Listen Johnson, I don't want it to go down like this..." he put his hands up while he talked, "but if you don't either give me the gun or shoot the man yourself I'll kill you."
Amara's blood froze, one of the guys walked closer and put the gun right to Amara's skull. "Do it." he growled.
Slowly, Amara closed his eyes and slowed his racing heart. Some time ago he had been taught how to control his emotions, how to slow and access a situation and then act on instincts. His eyes flew open and the gun blaze, shooting the gangster with the gun to his head, then the one with the other gun. Without another thought he shot the leader. The gun shots woke the older man and he looked at Amara, his eyes wide with fear.
"W-w-who are you?" he stammered. He flicked on the lights. Amara dropped the gun and put his hands up. Suddenly the police were surrounding the house and making arrests faster than they could blink. Ten police ran into the bedroom and aimed guns at Amara then he was in hand-cuffs and being forced into a police car. He felt something kick inside of him, he should have run. Amara let out an annoyed breath and leaned his head back. This was going to be a mess.
He overheard one of the cops mutter; "Geez, this kid is messed up, did you see his eyes?!" He smirked a bit, that was at least funny.
After a long and annoying night of trying to explain what had happened, his parents got to see him. Of course they were furious, especially his mother though. His father looked disappointed as his mother ranted about all the things she had done for him. Amara knew that if she could, she would have slapped him.
"Mr and Mrs. Johnson, we have an alternative." One of the police said, keepign his hand on his gun. "Useless kids like this could be unwound and put to better use."
Mr. Johnson looked panicked, but Mrs. Johnson nodded curtly. "Fine, I don't want to see his ungrateful face ever again!" she snarled.
"But honey.." Mr. Johnson protested. "Not another word Henry! Now show me the papers and we'll get this over with." Mrs. Johnson turned to Amara, "I hope you rot for the rest of your life." she snarled and marched away.
Amara looked out from under his hood at Mr. Johnson who stared back, then slowly he turned and left. Amara grabbed the bars and pressed his face to them watching his parents walk away.
"Tough break kid." one of the other men in the other cell said. Amara moved away and sat on the bench. He closed his eyes and waited. He wasn't sure how long he waited, but soon enough the tattooist came in and he shedded his hoodie and shirt, the man tattooed his shoulder, the dark purple hand with a blue thread peeling away from the spiral that represented the lines in human hands. "There." The tattooist left. Amara felt tears burning his eyes, the tattoo burned his skin and he couldn't even manage to pull his shirt back on. He sat on the cold cell floor trying not to cry. After one night, he was able to pull his shirt and hoodie back on.
On the fifth day, the juvey-cops came. "C'mon kid." they said, unemotionally. Amara stood as they cuffed him and walked him out toward the bus. He saw other desperate faces in those windows, something tugged at his heart and he knew he couldn't go through with this. Suddenly Amara was a wild animal, he kicked in the juvey-cops knee-caps and took their guns, they were only tranq guns. He shot the driver who passed out immediately and he threw open the bus doors, he shoved the juvey-cop from the bus and looked at the other kids.
"LET'S GO!" he shouted. The whole bus exploded as kids pushed their way out the tight aisle and into the dirty streets. The cops screamed and shot, some hit the kids. But most of then, ten at least made it to the woods and disappeared. Amara fled away from the scene, he knew where he had to go. He ripped through the forest and busted out onto the other side of town. He raced down the street and disappeared around a bend.
OOC: Perfect for anyone who has new characters, they can run into Amara!
IC: Anjali, after a long night of running was exhausted. She hauled herself down the street, too tired to care about anything. Until she saw a guy coming toward her at full speed. Her eyes widened but her body wouldn't move, she was drained.
OOC: That's you Firestorm ^_^