With Respect, Sir...

Joeyray's Bar
Prev 1 2 3 4 6 Next
asdf PLOT
The reason why I haven't posted anything related to this yet... Is because I'm still thinking on how I should go with it.
Hmm... this looks promising... I'll join in a little bit, I just need to bainstorm a character.
F*ck, blizzard ate my post. Time to start over...
Name: Michael Edward Wenson
Age: 8
Race: Terran

Darkness. That's all he could see. There was no sense of up and down, no left and right, seconds were stretched to eternity, and no one direction truly went anywhere.
This is how his dreams always were, and he was sure that was all they would ever be. Just black sandboxes where he could do whatever he desired, with nobody to judge him for his actions. just the way he liked it.

He started by creating a small 8x8 tiled floor and leveled it so he would have a veritable 'Ground' to sit on and prevent from floating around. He then had a track of his favorite band
The Glitch Mob play in the background to have some white noise so he could think more clearly. With everything in place, he went to work.

He began by imagining the schematics of an SUV's engine, careful to make sure each peice was in the right place before putting it all together. He then created the chasis and seating arrangements as well as the obvious space in the back for things to be put in.

When it was all made and put together, he took a spin in it on an imaginary track for a while, doing some stunts with it as he pleased. When he got bored he got out and had it drive straight into a munitions dump, watching the resulting explosion in satisfaction before returning to his seat on the 8x8 floor and mused his next construct.

As 'Fortune Days' began playing on the imaginary radio and he completed a new guass carbine prototype, a small whisper could be heard in the non-existant wind, and a light could be seen in the distance. He sighed. Just as his dreams always started the same way, they always ended the same as well. He put away the carbine and deleted it before starting to jog towards the light, an imaginary bridge with railings and an arch forming around the light creating a gate.


He continued walking, the light getting bigger and bigger as he got closer.

"Michael... be late..."

Late? He didn't want to be late. Being late was that last thing he wanted to do. He started running faster.

"Michael Edward Wenson. The bus will be here in five minutes, and you haven't even got out of bed yet. Get up!"

He sprinted the last few yards to the Light Gate, blinding himself as he ran in.


"Finally. Time to wake up. I packed your lunch for you already, it's at the door waiting for you."

He felt refreshed, but groggy at the same time, and his body screamed at him to just stay in bed for a few more minutes, but like his mother said, he was going to be late if he didn't move. fast.

He rolled out of bed and put on his clothes, first his underwear, then his jeans and socks, and a simple brown T-shirt to go with it. He relieved himself in the bathroom, then brushed his teeth and jogged downstairs to the kitchen, just like any other day. He got on his vest and backpack, grabbed a new book on algerbra he had started reading a day ago, and grabbed his lunch by the door.

"Bye Mom! I love you!" He yelled out in routine as he opened the door.

"Love you too, honey!" His mom called back as the door slammed shut, and he walked to his bus stop to see the bus just beginning to pull over. He walked inside, greeted the driver Mr. Kinton as he walked by, and sat in the front left seat, just as he always did. He pulled out the algerbra book as the bus's engine revved up and began to read, drowning out the noises of the rowdy kids on the bus with his MP3 as he did so.

*To be continued*

Next stop, going to classes that are far below his skill level!
OOH, a boy genius.

Now I will describe briefly my char's arrival on PlotWorld.

Hibrib took a transport from his homeworld, and arrived on another planet. He had taken on the form of 13 year old child, and on this new world ws forced to survive. He found his way to a small bar and (thanks to lax laws on that world) was able to get a job there.
Hibrib is working at (D20)(17) the cooking aspect of the bar. Pretty good, because you get to eat as much as you want.
Social Skills class. The bane of any kid who was diagnosed with a mental condition. At least I thought so. My group certainly voiced it's disagreement with me as we talked about our latest repeat lesson of 'Appropriate Behavior'. The only reason I was in this class was because of my 'autism' and OCD. I had the reasoning powers of someone three times my age, resulting in more easily fitting in with the collage students I played D&D with and other adults with than my peers, and tending to 'overthink' things in certain situations.

"Alright, next example," Mr. Moberg said. ",Tom is in Phy Ed, but doesn't like the activity that the class is doing, so he decides to walk in the middle of the field while thinking about the latest edition of Dungeons and Dragons. What kind of thoughts are his classmates having about him, and what could he do differently to get a better reaction?"

I groaned inwardly at the idiocy of the examples, and begin to simulate a running bandsaw in my mind while all the other kids shoot up their hands.

"Michael, you haven't spoken yet. What do you think?"

I glared at Mr. Moberg for a moment before sighing. "What grade is he in?"

"4th, same as you."

"Well, if you really must know, the older girls would most likely peg him as some random dork, bullies would see him as a potential target considering his sheer obliviousness to social rules and/or idiocy, his peers would think of him as a weirdo, and his teacher would inwardly facepalm and think something along the lines of 'Special child indeed.' before leading him off the track."

Mr. Moberg looks at me with a note of disdain but he quickly wipes it off his face. "Alright. Good thinking. Anyone else? Bianca?"

I tuned out the rest of the conversation, and managed to not be called for the rest of the session, which we then bid Mr. Moberg goodbye as we headed back to our main class.

Next we had math class, which if haven't already pieced it together that I was reading an algerbra book to pass the time in 4th grade, was ficken child's play. Granted I'm still a child, but you get the point. Honestly I couldn't understand why I wasn't already in high school, something about 'being with my peers' and 'being too young for the kinds of things they taught', and I knew exactly what they were talking about with the latter. Lady, I have read several different documents and textbooks on the human anatomy, I know how ficken babies are made!

Afterword it was art class, one of the only things I struggled in. The way my brain was wired meant I had to have things just perfect, and with many of the things we were doing being either abstract at best or still life of something, I would trash dozens of pieces of paper without making any sort of progress when everyone else was already done.

After that mess it was time for recess, and I got to feel the uncomfortable silence of several conversations quickly ending as I grabbed my algerbra book and walked outside. Huh. I thought gossip was more of a teenager thing.

Unfortunately, as I sat on a bench underneath a tree, I heard the sound of several heavy footsteps approaching. It seems the neahborhood's jocks have finally run out of other chew toys to play with, and now they're gunning for me. Well, they'll soon find that I am not a child to be fickened around with.

"Hey, look guys, it's the loser nerd with his textbook. Watcha readin', nerd?"

I looked up to see 3 teenage jocks standing around me, each with a muscularity and height that no doubt towered over my slim frame. Two were over my shoulder resting their arms on the bench and one was nearly in my face, clearly the leader. Two were a little ways off, likely making sure none of the teachers saw what was going on.

"For your information, dummkopf, it's about algerbra, something I doubt you simple-minded Ebern will ever understand."

The Leader grimanced, clearly understanding what I had said, though whether it was his native language or if it was simply from language class I couldn't make out. He then chuckled to himself, likely having expected me to be intimidated.

"You've got balls, kid, I'll give you that. But I doubt they'll do you any good when your face is smashed in, will they?" He gave a glance at the two men behind me, who reached to grab my arms. Well, I should've seen this coming.

I slammed my heavy textbook into the leader's face, stunning him. I follow up with closing the book and rolling to my right, clutching the book to my chest as I did so. Wouldn't want dirt and blood on a public library book, now would we?

Not wanting an extended fight, lest I be caught breaking the frankly idiotic 0 Tolerence Rule, I made a mad dash for the school, the teenagers unable to pursue me lest they be caught on school grounds, harrassing a student. I spent the rest of the time sitting next to the school door before the bell rang.

I returned the book to my backpack as the other kids poured in, and I had the last two classes of the day, language arts and phy ed, then the bell range, signalling us that the day was done, and that we were to file out to the buses. I got on, turned on my MP3 and skipping to 'Drive It Like You Stole It' as the engine revved up, and I was brought back home.

OOC: Okay, with that finally done, my next post will be me heading to 'PlotWorld', as Knarled put it.
Current Age: 13

"Seriously, Mom. Why are we going through all this again?" I moan as I stripped myself of my backpack, shoes, and other assorted items onto the baskets to be checked in the scanner.

"Your father has found a new job with Boston Scientific, and we have to move in order to accomidate his new workplace since traveling back and forth between two planets daily rather than simply moving closer to where you work is not exactly the best course of action, is it?" my mom indirectly berated me as she walked through the scanner.

There was no real way to respond without being more whiny then I already was, so I just sighed as I walked through the scanner and put on all my things again. We walked over to the shuttle we were flying on and took a seat. We had thirty minutes to kill, and twenty minutes passed, but dad was nowhere in sight. I pulled out the lastest book I had been reading of The Dresden Files (What? I can read fiction too!) to pass the time, but decided to ask where he was.

"Hey, mom? Where's dad? There's only ten minutes left until the shuttle takes off, and he's nowhere in sight."

"Oh, him? He took the morning flight, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

Ten awkward minutes passed, then we got on the shuttle, took our seats, and flew over to the new planet that I would be calling 'home', the name of which I sadly can't recall as of this time.

Long story short, I ended up in 8th grade in a fairly average school, and due to the frankly lax laws, I spent each wendsday with a D&D group at a tavern, as well as doing gymnastics each monday and taking ballet lessons on friday. Yeah, yeah, laugh all you like, at the end of the day it really helps my agility and balance, both vitally important when you're idea of a sport is swinging around on various things from pommel horses to P-Bars and doing stunts on them.

Still, it wasn't exactly the best way to make an impression in school, and due to my asocial nature I was always the odd man out at lunch and during class. Luckily after a few lessons the jocks knew better than to pick on me, but the gossip machine was still in full swing, and I ended up having plenty of practice tuning people out, much to my chargin.

Still, it's a life, and one I wouldn't trade for any other. And besides, on a particularly bad day I can always look forward to my dreams...
Steve held back a tear
oh how much he had to fear!
On such a cold, musky night,
his heart was filled with such fright!

The shadows grew long and forlorn
in front of him the ground was torn.
The screams of agony filled the air!
And little Steve felt very scared!

But the words of his teacher,
echoed in his mind.
"You are Templar,
learn to conquer your fears."

Steve hardened his heart and
continued onwards towards the flashy light.
X and Y gradually had more and more work, as more and more people came to the bar.
Hibrib approached Y.

"That's a pretty awesome pet... but aren't Zerg really dangerous? I wouldn't want to get that close to one."
X looks at Hibrib, then looks again. He then does the Scourge equivalent of a laugh (Which involves lots more flying than actual laughter).

Y just says," He's a nice bird, isn't he?".

X and Y have some special powers, because they're half NPC - half player.
"Uh... I guess." Hibrib edges away and gets back to work. He accidentally bumps into a table where some people are playing Dungeons and Dragons, upsetting their game. "Oh man, sorry!"
X flaps around randomly.

Y is looking around, and spots several people who don't quite belong. A girl (He doesn't actually SEE her, but he knows...), and a couple of boys.
Hibrib's workday ends, so he heads "home." What his coworkers don't know is that he goes back not to a house with parents, siblings, and pets, but to a crude shelter made from rubble and sticks.

As he walks back to his simple dwelling, it begins raining. He breaths out a sigh. Typical. He wonders when fate is gonna get creative and give him something really nasty.

He steps into his hovel and sits down. He picks up a mirror and inspects his face. He notices a darkening patch on his cheek, almost as if his skin's color is running off his face with the water. He wipes a hand across it, and it ripples, melding back to its original form. Rising, he opens the box he keeps his food in.


Sighing again, he exits the shelter and heads for a small restaurant. The owner is only too happy to serve him with great speed, and quickly serves him and ushers the troublesome looking child out. He sits on the corner, wipes the rain from his eyebrows, and start eating, his Zerg organs quickly assimilating the substance.

Just a typical day.
"Hey, no problem dude. Accidents happen." The DM says, looking up for a moment as he picked up dice from the floor.

"Accident my @$$! He knocked over all the figures!" A guy said in the far corner of the table, clearly miffed.

"Come on, Kenton, I remember where all the pieces were, and we were only two moves into the engagement anyways." A surprisingly young boy looks up from a notebook detailing his character's stats. He looks at the man who had bumped their table with an apolagetic look.

"Sorry about that. Kenton gets riled up easily when he's a little tipsy. Name's Michael. You come around here often?"

EDIT OOC: Aww 3 minutes late.

Join the Conversation

Return to Forum