forum ●When Heroes Fall● (OxO, CLOSED)

Started April 09, 2020 by @PrettyLittlePyro

tune

The world had been torn apart by war. The governments had decided that they needed more power, and were willing to kill to get it. Massive wars erupted all over the place. There were no longer alliances. This was a fight for power, and no one wanted to share. No one.

But from the ashes of the old world, five heroes arose. Siblings, they were a tight-knit group of family who just wanted life to be normal. But, alas, it couldn't. So they did the next thing - they managed to stop the wars. By then, the countries were all too poor to do anything about it, and cheered these five on, saying they were heroes, and blessed, and had come in their time of need. Peace reigned in the world… but not for long.

Extraterrestrial life was real. And it had found earth. And when earth was at it's most delicate and fragile time, they struck. The five heroes fought against the aliens, but were killed, and the aliens took control.

Well, almost all of them had died.

One girl had survived. But she wasn't going to be a hero. Her family had died in front of her eyes, and she hadn't been able to do anything about it. And there was no way she was going to try to take on something so powerful that the five of them hadn't been able to defeat it.

But things were getting worse. The aliens demanded tribute, and payment, and so that's what they would get. The entire world lived in fear, again, and thought that nothing good would ever come. Their heroes were dead. There was no one left to help.

Or was there?

One man wanted to help. He knew he could, but he would need some support. He was willing to be a hero, and to risk his life for others.

One was a war-torn hero, the other, a hero wannabe.

And they both needed help.

---

Rules:

• First off, this is going to be FxM. The character I have in mind for this is very much straight, so it wouldn't be fair to her. No arguments, I want this straight.
• In case you didn't get it, I'm playing the girl, the former hero.
• I would like a taste of your writing if I haven't before, please. I worked hard on this plot, and I want to be able to know what you're writing, so I can respond back.
• Cursing is absolutely allowed.
• This will be a romance, although it won't be the main plot.
• There probably won't be anything too steamy, like sex, unless you're comfortable with it, and even then, we'll have to move it to the pms.
• And lastly, just enjoy. I don't care how often you respond. Whether it dies or not is up to you, but I would like it to continue. And if it doesn't, well, I'll probably survive (just like those heroes…)

---

Name:
Age: (20-25)
Gender:
Alias:
Appearance:

• Hair:
• Face:
• Body:
• Clothes:
• Distinguishing Features: (Piercings, tattoos, physical flaws, etc)

Personality:
Ability: (Yes, I'm allowing magic. Try not to make it too op, please)
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Talents:
Background: (Optional)
Other:

Name: Lucas O’Sullivan
Age: 24
Gender: Male h/h
Alias: Lou / Sureshot
Appearance:

• Hair: A light hickory auburn with umber undertones. It falls wherever it would like, but Lucas normally keeps it cut shorter as to not fall in his eyes.
• Face: More angular, but not so much a chiseled stature. He has dark freckles dotting his light mocha skin and bright blue eyes.
• Body: Stands at about 5’11” and weighs 150. He’s skinnier and leaner, while still being a slight bit toned.
• Clothes: Tries to be professional when he can, but his casual attire mainly consists of accidentally-torn jeans and oversized t-shirts.
• Distinguishing Features: He has a scar stretching across his forearm that’s dark compared to his skin.

Personality: He’s a responsible and reliable leader at heart. He’s often calm in the face of conflict and tries his best to solve whatever issue had been aroused. He doesn’t get emotional easily, but if he’s happy, he’ll show it. Sadness and irritation on the other hand, he’ll tend to keep locked away. He acts like an older brother to whoever he befriends.
Ability: He is able to control his throwing knives (that are imbued with his own blood) through some kind of telekinesis. However, in order to activate it, he was to close his eyes. He’s wonderful at sensing others in this state, though, and many people know him as “Sureshot.”
Strengths: Throwing knives even without his power / Long-range combat / Responsibility
Weaknesses: Close combat / Brute strength / Keeping control of himself when he teleports his knives too often. He then usually can gain a minor bloodlust.
Talents: Accuracy / Music / Sensing people while not being able to fully see
Background: (Gonna leave this tbd because his normal background wouldn’t work here)
Other: N/A

Here he is; hope he works!

Name: Ellowyn Adriatic
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Alias: Phantom
Appearance:

• Hair: Short, to her chin. Brown, but with streaks of lighter brown and and darker brown, making it seem like it has layers to it, or like it's always shiny. Never any barrettes or hair clips or anything in it.
• Face: Delicate, pretty features. A small nose, perfect lips, and high cheekbones, a little bit like an elf. She has really long, dark eyelashes, as well. Her eyes are brown, but her right eye has a spot of gold in it.
• Body: Slender and curvy. She's about 5'4'', which she feels like is too short, but she can't do anything about it. Muscular, from all the work she's done. Long legs. Kind of the perfect body… ish.
• Clothes: A tank top, usually, and leggings. Sometimes jeans, although those aren't really her favorite to wear. Anything she feels like wearing. Always the stuff she got from her siblings, she always wears those.
• Distinguishing Features: She has her ears pierced, one on each ear. She also has a tattoo of the names of her family in flowing script around her left wrist. A long scar, that looks like a wild animal attacked her, all across her back, as a reminder.

Personality: Funny and kind. She tries to be nice to everyone, but it can be hard. She often gets annoyed with people, and will need some quiet time to think and be alone, although she hates being alone with her thoughts. She has severe PTSD, which is a big problem, and so whenever someone mentions something about the five heroes, or is reminded of her family, she will start to go into a panic mode. She has tried to hide her grief deep inside, so that she doesn't have to feel it. She tries to act tough, and is a great actress, good at disguising her feelings.
Ability: She can fade from sight. It's kind of like invisibility, but more of a camouflage. It was actually how she survived.
Strengths: Staying strong. She is very good at being strong, and fighting, although she would never admit it. She is also fantastic at ballet.
Weaknesses: Singing. She cannot sing at all. She also will crack at any mention of her family, or the trauma that happened to her.
Talents: Dancing. She's amazing at that. She's also a pretty good fighter, not that she'll ever fight, if she can help it. She's really good at helping others, too, and disappearing into the crowd.
Background: Ellowyn was born into a family of nine, with five older siblings and one younger. Even before the war, they were a different family, so close together you couldn't ever separate them. The war started when she was 13, and her older brother, Eli, joined the army, and was killed. He younger sister, Khara and her parents all died in the collapse of a building, and that was the final straw for the remaining members of the family. She and her older siblings became superheroes, taking action when no one else was willing to, and defeated the government, and there was peace. She and her older siblings were celebrated as heroes… until the aliens came, when Ellowyn was 15. The five of them tried to fight them, but they were overwhelmed. Her older siblings died trying to keep them from attacking, and her oldest sister Hannah locked her in a warehouse, so that she would be safe, after Ellowyn had been seriously injured.
And she was safe.
But all her siblings were dead. And she had to watch them be killed, one by one.
Other: She always has one thing from each of her family members on her, like a piece of jewelry, or a jacket or book, and she always rubs her tattoo when she's feeling nervous or scared or depressed.

(Alright!)

The market was loud, and full of bustling shoppers and pickpockets. If it weren't for all of the technology around, it would seem like one of those old fashioned markets from stories, hundreds of years ago. There wasn't much space in the streets for people to walk, as there were people all over the place, shouting and yelling, adding to the general din of the place.

One figure walked through the crowd, head bowed, hands in pockets. They slid aside, to avoid a person trying to carry a heavy, large box, and slid into a nearby stall, which, at one point, would have been called a restaurant. They sat down on a folding table outside, and stared out at the people passing by.

Ellowyn watched a pickpocket pretending to be drunk stumble into someone, steal something, and slip away without the other person noticing. She gave the tiniest of smiles, a rare sight indeed, for her. Her eyes were cold and hard, and she seemed like someone who would be avoided at all costs. Nobody recognized the former hero, Phantom, anymore. It had been years, and she looked very different.

Lucas wasn’t a city boy. And he figured he’d stay that way.
The place was congested as hell— too much so for his liking. Mainly he was confused. How could so many people be in one place? Why would they want to be?
Still, he sifted through the crowd, mumbling to himself but unable to hear any of it through the boisterous melody of the people. He felt claustrophobic, to say the least.
He had to resist the urge to offer help to other struggling people, either moving heavy boxes from one place to another or tripping over one another and regaining a slight bit of balance before tripping again. It was like a sea of… humans.
Lucas shook the thought from his mind. He was probably just overreacting. Claustrophobia was certainly a factor in that.
Suddenly, a figure slinking off into a doorway caught his eye. It moved much more elegantly than the others.
Without a real plan, Lucas followed, almost running into a stumbling drunk. Not familiar with the ways of pickpockets here, and with his small silver chain gone from his wrist, he glanced back and forth, quite confused. Still, he persisted.
He followed the figure into the small room, noting the darker interior. Though his eyes didn’t focus on the room for long, when he finally saw the face of the girl.
His heart almost stopped. She looked so familiar, but her eyes were so cold and distant that it barely registered. Still, Lucas had practically worshipped the heroes.
“Ph-Phantom?” he breathed, still unsure if it was even her.

The person who had been robbed had been following her. Ellowyn stiffened, her brown eyes cold and hard. She stared at him flatly.

When he said her hero name, however, a look of intense fear crossed her features before she wiped it away. She subconsciously rubbed the tattoo around her wrist. "I'm sorry," she said in a coldly polite voice. "You must have mistaken me for someone else. I don't know how you could think that I would ever look like a dead hero, but thank you for the compliment."

Shit shit shit shit shit. She cursed in her head. How had he recognized her?

Lucas cocked his head, like a sort of confused puppy.
“Oh, sorry,” he apologized, giving an awkward smile.
Well.. that’s interesting. All his research on the heroes was wrong? Or maybe this girl’s wrong? But she looks so much like Phantom… Maybe she meant dead as in no one really knows her anymore? Did I misread that??
His head bumbled with each quite loud thought, and he had to shake it aside to keep from internally questioning his entire existence.
Still, he looked calm and composed on the outside, with the exception of his twiddling thumbs.
“Anyway~,” he said melodically. “Sorry to bother you. Have a nice day.”
And with that, he turned to leave.

Ellowyn shook her head. Why did he recognize her? This was bad, this was really bad. She would have to move again, just when she was getting settled.

When the guy turned to go, something in her made her call out, "Why would you think that I was Phantom?" She asked, trying to make her tone kinder. Her older sister, Hannah, had the ability to switch her tone from angry to kind in an instant, which Ellowyn was always jealous of. So she would try.

A burst of grief shot through her, and her fingers wrapped around her tattoo.

Lucas froze, then pivoted on his heel, spinning back around to face the girl.
“Well, I— I mean, you look kind of like her. I don’t know how much she changed since the war but..,” he paused for a moment, gritting his teeth. “You look like how I imagine her to look today.”
He raised an eyebrow, more internally confused at his own words. Yeah… he was probably wrong with his first assumption— the whole “oh my lord I found the last living hero that I want to help” was most definitely wrong.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “For maybe not making much sense.”

"I-" She sighed. "It makes sense. I get it. I just- I didn't think that anyone cared about heroes anymore. They should rely on themselves to stop the aliens. They shouldn't depend on others to help them, and act all helpless, like sheep. Everyone can do something, and it's better to die bravely than to live like a coward." She realized that she was saying the things that she had told herself many, many times.

A spasm of grief crossed her face, and she looked down to hide her tears from the stranger. This was more than she had ever said in a long time. She didn't talk a lot, prefering to listen, and this stranger had come out of the blue, recognized her, and had made her remember memories she really didn't want to remember.

“Oh,” he mumbled to himself.
She thinks I’m here to ask the heroes for help? he thought, shaking his head. For help with a silly little ‘normal human’ problem?
“That’s— yeah, I agree. I’d be happy to die bravely, helping others,” he said, although the sentence was somewhat reckless or childish. “I’m not here to plead for help.”
He paused, locking his jaw and going over the words in his head. Something he had said internally about a thousand times… but never spoke aloud.
“I’m here to help the last hero. Or— at least, offer her help in any way I can.”

"And why would she need help? What would she be fighting?" Ellowyn shook her head. "I'm sorry. No one wants to fight them anymore." She lifted her head and stared him in the eyes. She opened her mouth to speak when there were screams from outside.

Her head jerked up, and her heart started pounding with fear. She knew what would happen next. "No," she breathed.

"Racers!" Someone shouted in fear. "They're here!"

(So, a brief thing about the aliens. They're called Racers, because they have a great grip on technology, and are more advanced than humans. There are three types, the normal ones, Finders, who can read the surface thoughts of any creature, and Generals, who are faster, stronger, and more intelligent than all the other.)

(Alrighty)

Lucas instantly bolted outside.
A foolish move? Maybe.
Could he easily get killed? Absolutely.
Would it be worth it to save someone? Even more so.
He swerved through the crowd of people until he could get a decent look at the situation. In between each of his fingers, he held his throwing knives, already more than prepared to utilize his ability fully. While it might impact him negatively… he didn’t necessarily care.
All of this pride and need to save people wasn’t overshadowed by the fact that he actually really wanted to see the hero. And if Racers were here… chances were, the hero may be here as well.

When the guy rushed outside, Ellowyn wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering with fear. She couldn't do this. Not again.

But… there were innocents around. She had to help them. It was important. She couldn't let anyone die, not anymore, not on her watch. After all, she was still technically a hero, right? Her breath came in short pants, and fear pounded through her.

But she stood. She wrapped her power around herself, rendering her invisible, and crept out of the building. A knife lay on the ground, a few feet away from the Racers, and she moved smoothly up to the creatures, picking it up. As soon as she touched the blade, it vanished too.

She took a shallow breath, the metallic scent of fear in her nostrils. She spotted a beast, bigger than the others, standing at the front. It must be a general, then. She crept up to it and slit it's throat, although with some difficulty, as the knife was dull, and the skin was strong.

She was flung from the dying creature with a movement from it's strong arm, and she slammed into the wall, her invisibility fading. She pushed herself up, bleeding from cuts and bruises, and blinked away spots from her vision.

She had been noticed. And the Racers were going to attack her. At last, she could go be with her siblings.