So the whole idea of this is that there aren't actually superheros running through the city of Charleston, South Carolina. Instead, it is simply normal people with rare and fantastic disorders that makes it seem as though they have powers. For instance, my character will have CIPA Disease, which makes the individual unable to feel pain or sweat, along with ADHD. Basically makes him wired up at all times and tough as shit. Almost like a superhero…..but not quite.
(Oo this sounds awesome, may I join?)
(Of course! Have we roleplayed before?)
(I don’t think so! Do you need a sample?)
(No, I just wanted to know. Do you want a template, or are you willing to go in blind?)
(Oke! And Hmm I’m willing to go in blind)
(May i know what disorder(s) you are choosing for your character?)
(Probably Savant Syndrome, basically a genius in certain areas like math or music)
(Lovely! Now, how should are two characters meet? Maybe a car crash where Twitch ends up saving yours?)
(Sure! They could be in a bus or taxi together by chance and my character would be more affected than twitch)
(You betcha! Would you like me to start?)
(Yes please!)
"Taxi!" Emitt shouted, sticking his left thumb out as he wiped his eyes clear of the rain with his right.
The monsoon had came out of nowhere, caused by the warm Atlantic waters mixing with a cold front that had rushed it's way in from Northern Canada all the way down to the cost line of the lower Carolina State, creating a downpour of rain with the water pressure of a fancy house's shower. Finally, his eyes spotted a pair of headlights fighting it's way though the wall of water, followed by the rough outline of a vehicle as it pulled up the street.
Something caught his attention from across the street, and a quick glace revealed it was a woman who looked just as unprepared as he did for the rain. He didn't even check the weather before leaving the house in a simple Dri-Fit T-Shirt and athletic shorts, expecting a warm and humid day that never did come. He was horrible at predicting the weather, but always forgot to check it.
"Uh, excuse me, miss!" he shouted of the platplatplat of the rain as the taxi pulled up on the curb beside him, "You can ride with me in the taxi if you'd like!"
The woman looked up and squinted, taking a moment to realize what he said, “Oh!” She realized and shuffled towards him and the taxi, her black trench coat wrapped around her for what little protection from the torrential rain it offered. She slid into the seat beside him, “Thank you,” she breathed again and pushed her hood back to reveal half-soaked black hair still tucked behind her in her coat.
He gave her a friendly smile, seeming to be slightly amused by the situation he found himself in.
"Fifth Street," Emitt said, sliding two damp 20 dollar bills through the hole in divider in the cab, "And wherever the lady would like to go." He turned to her and winked. "It's on me."
Emitt was somewhat of a flirt, in case it wasn't obvious, but not the kind that pushed people away and made them feel slimy. He managed to put almost everyone at ease with his casually good looks, slightly goofy grin, and his friendly nature.
The girl smiled and told the driver, “Hamline.” Then to Emitt, “Thank you…I’m Raign. Some weather, right?” She glanced out the window into the monsoon mess. She lifted her hands to pull her hair out over her shoulders. The tangled length reached to her mid-stomach.
"Hm," he mused, holding back another grin. "I met a girl named Raign in the rain. Seems fitting don't it?"
He offered his hand, making sure to not lean to far over to give the girl her space. "I'm Emitt, but most of my friends just call me Twitch."
A quick glance at his hands made it obvious that he'd just been in a fight. Almost every knuckle was either bruised or cut.
Raign took his hand and shook it too gently, “Ow..” she said in reference to his knuckles, “Your hand is bruised, what happened?” Not being exposed to street fights, she only assumed he’d fallen on his fist or something. It didn’t make sense to her yet unless she was told. This was relevant for a lot of things with her, at least in street smarts.
He rolled his tongue around in his mouth, contemplating the best way to spin the story. Being honest would just scare her away, but what could he say that would be convincing? Emitt's mind went blank, and he let out a sigh. Might as well…
"I was in a fight with a few fellas that decided a woman's bag would be better suited in their hands," he explained.
“Oh..” she nodded, “That makes sense I suppose.” She glanced out of her window, “I had a much less eventful day,” She humored. “I practiced Cello and my hands probably hurt as much as yours
He gave a tired grin; this was a statement he made a lot.
"Actually," Emitt said, side-eying the attractive person next to him, "They don't hurt a bit. Have you ever heard of CIPA disease?"
She turned her face back to him, hands wrapped around her stomach from habit “No,” she tilted her head a bit with interest, “What is it?”
"Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis," he said without even hesitating. "A rare genetic disease. It causes me to be unable to feel pain or sweat. Also known as hereditary sensory and autonomic neuropathy type IV, or HSAN IV."
Emitt took a deep breath in and continued. "I can't cool down my body correctly if I can't sweat, so I always have to limit the amount of time I say outside."
“Wow..” Raign whispered, “That’s unbelievable. I didn’t know that could be real.” She shifted her body to partly face him now, “I have a disorder. It’s not as amazing as yours but, do you want to hear it?”
"I'm willing to hear anything you wish to say," he said, diverting his full attention to Raign. This is going pretty well.