ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jul 15, 2019 1:57:15 GMT
Now I Need Someone to
Breathe
Me
Back
to Life |
Isaiah was used to feeling calm, cool and collected around girls. He knew lots of girls found him cute. He never had trouble making girls laugh or holding their interest. And yet here with Alyssa he felt like a 12 year old nerd around his first crush. His tongue felt ten times too large inside his mouth, and his throat felt dry. It also appeared that there developed a three second delay between his brain and his mouth. He almost worried that she would think he was drunk or stoned or something, but in reality he was just a boy whose hormones had taken control of his reasoning faculties.
He couldn't deny it: she was hot. For growing up in California, Isaiah had been raised in a relatively traditional household. He had been taught that men were supposed to engage with women in a certain way when they were dating or expressing romantic interest. It had been drilled into his head by his father that respect was paramount. Focusing on a girl's personality and intelligence was treated as more civilized and appropriate than overemphasizing her looks. Still, he'd have to be a fool to deny it. Her beauty threatened to take this breath away.
"Don't worry about it, I show up everywhere like 20 minutes early," he said to her with a smile, hoping he didn't sound dumb. Had that been a stupid thing to say? Jesus, this date was making him so nervous! A shot of whiskey would really hit the spot right now. Even the tone and cadence of her voice was appealing to him. There was a sing-songy type quality to it, sultry and melodic. He could listen to her talk for hours and she'd barely uttered a full sentence.
He let his mind wander to her uncanny likeness to the pop star Maia Morales and realized after more than a few seconds he was staring at her face. He flashed her a smile and gestured towards the stand where they would get their skates, beginning to head that way. He pondered briefly how difficult it would be to date a celebrity. The lack of privacy, the need for security, how something as simple as spending the afternoon at a skating rink was a major event to be coordinated... although he figured there were upsides, too. Isaiah wasn't opposed to partying in mansions and attending awards shows and stuff like that.
"When's the last time you went skating?" he asked her. "I haven't been in probably 10 years. You have to promise to not laugh at me if and when I bust my ass."
| © seadra of gs |
|
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Jul 14, 2019 23:45:10 GMT
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jul 14, 2019 23:45:10 GMT
[googlefont=Inconsolata] 
Isaiah was beginning to understand that Brian's power was incredibly versatile and had many creative applications, one of which Brian was using right now. It was a clever idea to expand one leg to be large enough to compensate for his other injured extremity. And there were so many questions he wanted to ask Brian about his power, too! Could he target multiple muscle groups at once, or was he restricted to only one at a time? How sore was he when he went back to normal? If he needed to, could he use his power in reverse and shrink his muscles?
There would be plenty of time to ask those questions, and Isaiah assumed that Brian would have some questions about his own power. In a certain sense their powers seemed to share something in common; they both involved amplifying and augmenting a physical body and making it stronger, faster, more durable... but these observations would have to wait until later. Right now they were focused on capturing the cracked out meta who had attacked the bank and tried to kill them all; she was a threat to the entire city and needed to be neutralized.
They tore down the street in a burst of speed, Athena charging ahead with Cesar following close behind, Isaiah and Brian riding on his back like he was some monstrous and demonic horse. This was Isaiah's usual way of doing things; Cesar's wide pit bull frame was better suited for carrying riders. Plus, Athena was the herder. She moved with agility and grace and was as quiet as a shadow despite her massive size. She did better when she was unencumbered by human riders. They hadn't been on the chase long... no way the meta could move faster than the dogs. After a minute or so of running, she came into view.
The street was a chaotic cluster of cars, buses, pedestrians, cyclists, and everything else. People were laying on their horns and trying to get out of the way of the two mutant dog tanks barreling down the highway, the meta who had attacked the scurrying ahead of them more frantic than the even innocent civilians. Isaiah felt like a master tactician as he let out a whistle and signaled with his hand; Athena would circle around while Brian, Isaiah and Cesar led the frontal assault...
... it seemed like the truck came out of nowhere, a 5 ton FedEx truck rushing down the highway at close to 60 miles per hour. Athena tried to correct course half of a second too late, colliding with the massive truck with a yelp of pain. "No!" Isaiah screamed out, immediately pulling at Cesar to get him to change course. He needed to get to Athena immediately. Isaiah knew that whatever serious damage like broken bones or torn ligaments the dogs incurred while his power was affecting them would follow them when they changed back to their original form.
Cesar adjusted his trajectory, the drugged out meta completely forgotten. If Brian wanted to take her out, he'd have to do it alone. Isaiah had other priorities.
IT
ISN'T
IN
MY
BLOOD
|
|
ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Jul 13, 2019 14:38:13 GMT
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jul 13, 2019 14:38:13 GMT
Got a feeling that I'm going under |
The wind ripped through his hair and a stupid huge smile spread across his face. Isaiah had never experienced what they called a runner's high- cardio wasn't exactly a pleasant thought for him- but he figured this feeling was pretty damn close. A sense of euphoria pulsed through his veins as the three of them soared through the air, bouncing off of buildings, scaling huge distances like it was absolutely nothing. Isaiah's power had made Cesar's body the pinnacle of physical perfection, a fact which made Cesar's mind giddy with excitement and a sense of purpose. It was the ultimate feedback loop of awesome. It was as if the two of them were one body.
The third member of their party was definitely excluded from this "kumbaya" moment. Isaiah couldn't tell for certain because of the way he was facing forward while riding Cesar, but the Gadget seemed to be suffering from a bit of nervousness while Cesar leaped through the night sky like a bird on the breeze. Isaiah laughed as the Gadget gripped their hands painifully into Isaiah's sides, although the wind was so loud Isaiah doubted they heard it. They only spoke to offer directions for an escape route, and Isaiah nudged Cesar lightly this way or that at the Gadget's commands.
When the three of them came to a brief stop underneath an overpass in a shadier part of town, reality set back in. Were they being chased? Perhaps the gadget would be able to look at their device (whatever kind of device it was) and tell him if Paladin was en route. When Isaiah turned to ask his new friend, he noticed that they had hid the ground with a thud, and while they didn't fall, the landing didn't exactly look planned or comfortable. Isaiah wondered if they would kiss the ground in gratitude after dismounting Cesar.
"Oh, umm... he doesn't really shrink fast," Isaiah said, panic setting in further. The sound of sirens was getting closer. They were going to get caught! "Usually it takes longer for him to shrink back down to normal size than it does for him to grow." But even as the words left his mouth, Isaiah subdued his power. It was like trying to put a cap on an exploding fire hydrant; when Isaiah and Cesar (and Athena when she was around) were in sync like this, reversing it could be exceedingly difficult.
The shrinking was working, although slower than he would have liked. Isaiah had been through this many times before and he knew the process well. It was like the air was being let out of Cesar's monstrous frame slowly and unevenly, and the sound of bones crunching and skin tearing and muscles severing rang through the air. When it was all said and done, the large exterior of the dog would remain, like a butterfly molting from a cocoon in reverse, and Isaiah would have to cut the unharmed Cesar in his regular state from within.
The flashing lights that turned down onto where they were standing accompanied by the wailing of police sirens told him they were out of time. He flashed a smile to the Gadget. "Hopefully you've got something up your sleeve that can get us out of here."
| © seadra of gs |
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|
ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jul 9, 2019 1:16:03 GMT
[googlefont=Inconsolata] Whatever lingering doubts that Brian was a metahuman and a hero were wiped away from Isaiah's mind. His new friend was incredible, shifting and maximizing different muscles and muscle groups across his body. While Isaiah loved his power and wouldn't trade it for anything, it did bother him knowing that his own physical body was still very human, very weak, very exposed. If a bomb exploded too close to him he could be done for. He relied on Athena and Cesar completely for his well being when he was out in his mask, and it was a major drawback. The criminal woman was looking more unhinged as the moments went by, her eyes clearly possessed by a type of crazy Isaiah didn't like to mess with. It was easy to see, even with her wearing the ski mask. The few teeth she had were rotten and ragged, twisted into a terrible smile like some knock-off Disney villain. Isaiah surmised that in her life before powers she'd probably been a user, and from the looks of it she still was. There was little reason to doubt she was trying to rob this bank to pay off a debt or further fuel a habit. It took only a few moments for the tide to start turning- at one point Brian seemed to have the upper hand with his obviously enhanced physical strength, and in the blink of an eye the woman had him on the defensive, a gaping wound in his leg. Her power- was she shooting invisible projectiles that exploded on impact, or creating localized explosions within a certain radius of her body?- was difficult to track because of its invisibility component. Even unhinged and high as a kite, this woman's power made her dangerous. No sooner had the words left Brian's lips than Isaiah snapped out of his inaction and whistled to the dogs. Cesar and Athena had been together since they were small puppies; he'd gotten Athena first and then Cesar less than two months later. They were finely attuned to one another, could anticipate each other's movements and had a natural tendency to work in tandem. In fact, Isaiah had begun training multiple different dogs and stuck with these two because of their natural teamwork. It would come in handy getting them out of their current situation. They charged in unison, Cesar going for the direct hit while Athena circled a bit to the right and flanked the woman on her side. The woman's smile twisted into an uneasy frown as her eyes darted nervously between Isaiah's two beasts, at this point as tall as Shire horses, as wide as SUVs with jagged bones, exposed muscles, and ferocious jaws. The people unlucky enough to have been in the bank were shrieking in terror. Isaiah wished he could scream out to reassure them that he and Brian were the good guys. When they were about 15 feet off the woman pointed a finger from each hand toward either dog. Isaiah hollered at them, hoping they would understand to either change course or brace for the impact. True to form, Athena was perceptive enough to stall slightly left when the woman's hand went up. A small explosion popped less than a foot from where she had veered, a bit of the remaining hair on her body singed. Cesar, on the other hand, took the impact head on, and it slowed him down for only a moment before he regained speed and continued his charge. Fear overtaking the woman now, she did something surprisingly strategic. As Athena lowered her body to hit the woman with all the force of her massive body, the woman sent a bomb down towards where one of Athena's gigantic paws was set to fall. The woman had timed it perfectly- not even a full second before Athena's foot hit the ground, the woman's explosion went off and left an uneven hole in the floor that was not unlike a pot hole, causing Athena to trip and slide. Almost as if the woman had planned it that way, Athena's body went tumbling into Cesar's, knocking both dogs to the ground and getting their limbs tangled up. It bought her maybe 20 seconds, but the woman tried to capitalize on it. The money forgotten, she made a mad dash for the opening she had created when she'd first broken into the bank and took a run for it. When she had just gotten out of sight Cesar and Athena untangled themselves and bounded to Isaiah's side, clearly keen for the hunt but waiting for their master's command. Isaiah turned to Brian with a smile and gestured toward the street. "Shall we?"Brian Harris
IT
ISN'T
IN
MY
BLOOD
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jul 5, 2019 21:34:54 GMT
Got a feeling that I'm going under |
It seemed like a smug sense of superiority was part of the Gadget profile. Isaiah did not appreciate being talked to like he was an idiot. It very well could have been dynamite that the other metahuman had used, as far as Isaiah was concerned. As far as any non-Gadget and non-former military personnel would have been concerned. Although they did have a point about blowing themselves up, along with Cesar and himself... still, how could Isaiah be certain that the Gadget did have some sort of flame and blast resistant suit, or some other technology to shield and protect? That was one of the many problems with Gadgets. It was impossible to tell what kind of tricks they kept up their sleeves...
Isaiah had always felt like his own power was an extension of his personality. It was obvious and overt, and it didn't rely on any sort of sleight of hand or subterfuge. It was hard to be inconspicuous with Cesar and Athena when his power was at work on them. There was something honest and sincere about it. Likewise, Isaiah didn't believe in manipulation or mind games or hidden agendas. He wore his heart on his sleeve and did so consciously without shame. Dogs were the same way, and it made him happy to know he was connected to such awesome animals on this level. Granted Isaiah didn't actually know too many powered people in their personal lives, but he assumed he would observe the same thing across different power types.
The Gadget was walking towards him and snapped him out of his thoughts. Isaiah reasoned that they couldn't be too far off from his own age; their slouch and the lazy cadence of their voice placed them as a teenager. "About thirty five hundred pounds," Isaiah responded. Close enough to two tons. He ran a hand over Cesar's callused exterior. His heart began to race as the Gadget told him that someone had alerted the heroes and they would be here soon. Every time he'd done this previously it had only been the local police who'd showed up. Isaiah supposed this was just his lucky day to interact with a bunch of metas. Did they really have tracking devices on heroes? Whoever this Gadget meta was, Isaiah was developing a healthy fear of them.
He glanced around the assembled dogs in cages and thought for a brief moment. Turning to the Gadget he spoke. "We can leave the dogs here. The police will take them and adopt them out." That's what had happened every other time he had done this. His parents were veterinarians. He had the resources and connections to check on those sorts of things. "They have working relationships with plenty of shelters. The dogs will be fine. I'm more worried about us."
He began to pace and found himself getting anxious. What the fuck was he doing out here, anyway? Was he really prepared to be interrogated by a bunch of heroes? He knew them vigilantism was illegal, but it was so common in today's world, and he'd never actually had such a close brush with any real life heroes before. If Paladin was really on the way... fuck. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. He considered the Gadget's offer and decided he really had no other options. Plus, the Gadget had offered answers. If Isaiah was being watched for any reason, he wanted to know.
Isaiah let out a whistle command and Cesar laid flat on the ground, allowing Isaiah to swing a leg over Cesar's large body. A spiky bone protruded out of his spine, perfectly positioned for Isaiah to grasp onto. One day he would make a saddle and reins for the dogs, but he hadn't gotten around to it yet. Maybe the Gadget would be inclined to help him if he helped them escape this scenario. He reached a hand out to them and said, "Let's get out of here. You give directions and I'll drive."
| © seadra of gs |
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|
ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Jun 30, 2019 15:42:51 GMT
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 30, 2019 15:42:51 GMT
[googlefont=Inconsolata] It surprised Isaiah to see Brian jump into action so quickly after they heard a loud explosion going off behind them. A few minutes ago Isaiah would have guessed that Brian would be uncertain and hesitant in a situation like this, and yet here he was trying to take control. He'd even instructed Isaiah to stay where he was. Did the guy have some kind of savior/messiah complex? Or maybe this guy was actually a hero? It would make sense, especially if Brian had some sort of advanced mental ability that made interaction with other people difficult. Isaiah knew that many awesome powers came with unfortunate side effects. He didn't have time to ask. In a flash Brian was gone, rushing towards the explosion while everyone else rushed out. The dog park was clearing up fast as people snatched up their pets and hurried off to their cars or down the street. Athena and Cesar could sense the anxiety and tension coursing through Isaiah's body, and in turn they shuffled back and forth uneasily. Isaiah stuck one hand down to pet the both of them, his eyes still firmly fixed on the bank and where Brian had entered the building. What should he do? Turn around and go home? Wait for Brian to come back? Or should he try to rush in and help? It made sense, in a way. If Brian was a hero- the idea seemed more and more likely to Isaiah with each passing second- then it might score Isaiah some major brownie points if he were to help him out. After all, wasn't the whole point of going out with a mask on at night? When he began his life as a vigilante, he always told himself that he was doing it with the ultimate goal of becoming a hero. Now he was presented with the opportunity to impress a real life hero, someone he had unknowingly befriended when they were out of costume! Before he had really had enough time to think about what he was doing, Isaiah had reached into the backpack he always carried with him and pulled out a black ski mask, sliding it onto his face in a single motion. Subconsciously his power was already going to work on Cesar and Athena, and he could feel their energies growing and responding to his ability. They were running towards the bank in a matter of seconds, the dogs already twice their normal size and growing still. In a few moments their physical forms would be so different that anyone who had seen them at the dog park wouldn't be able to recognize them. When the three of them cleared the rubble and peered into the open bank, they saw a woman in a similar style ski mask screaming for access to the safe, and Brian charging her clearly intending to tackle her to the ground. Isaiah gave his dogs the signal that meant "wait/guard." He would stand back at the ready to provide back up for Brian if he needed it, but for the moment he wouldn't interfere. Brian Harris
IT
ISN'T
IN
MY
BLOOD
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Jun 19, 2019 23:48:29 GMT
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 19, 2019 23:48:29 GMT
Should he put his phone in his pocket? Should he keep it in his hand? Should he not have worn something so casual? Man, first dates were the worst. He waited outside for more than a few minutes, growing more and more insecure with each passing moment, feeling awkward just leaning up against the building. He tucked his phone back into his pocket, paid his entry fee at the door and walked in. He hadn't taken five steps before he started kicking himself mentally. He should have waited for her to show up and paid for her! Or was that considered sexist and patriarchal now? Damn, dating was hard. He decided that he wouldn't turn back around and wait for her in the parking lot, instead taking a seat at a table in the small food court that sat to the side of the skating area. Again he wrestled with the "should I or shouldn't I" question of playing with his phone, and it was only by continuously drumming his fingers against the table that he was able to keep his phone firmly in his pocket and out of his hands. He didn't want to seem any ruder than he needed to after he'd walked in and left her to pay for herself. He didn't want her to think that he was already bored or disinterested. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long. It was a weird thing to meet someone online and recognize them immediately with your own eyes the first time, and yet Isaiah knew her as soon as she entered his field of vision. He could feel himself breaking out into a smile already. She was just as pretty as her pictures had hinted, a melody of curves and a smile as soft as summer rain. He got up to great her and waved at her as he approached, the feeling that she looked familiar popping into his brain again like it had multiple times before... was that... was that Maia Morales? Isaiah wasn't really into internet celebrity culture, and he didn't listen to much music that was played on the radio. People often made fun of him for listening to the kind of music that hadn't been popular since the early 2000s; he preferred acoustic and indie music that featured guitars and whiny voices and depressing lyrics over pulsing beats and high production. Still, he didn't live under a rock. He knew who Maia Morales was. Most people did, at least most people his age, and he figured eventually everyone would know her. She was one of those up and coming types who was laying the groundwork for a long lasting career. And she was standing right in front of him. Or at least someone who looked almost exactly fucking like her was standing right in front of him. He hesitated for a moment and decided that it couldn't be- why would a pop star be searching for dudes on Tinder? Plus, if people made this comparison often, Alyssa might be sick of it and he did not want to screw up their first date by mentioning it. He chalked the whole thing up to an uncanny resemblance and tried to put it all out of his mind. "Hey Alyssa, I'm Isaiah. Nice to meet you!" |
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Jun 18, 2019 23:03:19 GMT
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 18, 2019 23:03:19 GMT
Got a feeling that I'm going under |
The comment was so dumb he wondered if they were really that dense or just being difficult. "Uhh, I'm here to put an end to it, dumbass," Isaiah called across the way to his new friend. He tried to inject a dripping, hateful sarcasm into every syllable. Even as the words escaped his lips he realized that his voice didn't have the right natural timbre to sound anything other than petulant when he spoke in that way. Oh well. "I'm here to make sure monsters like you don't ever get to hurt any animals ever again." He was surprised by the passion in his own voice... come to think of it, this was the first time he was ever really speaking aloud about what he had been doing at dog fighting rings these past few months. No one had ever lived long enough or stuck around long enough to question him about it.
He took a surreptitious glance at the watch on his wrist. Six minutes. He had been using his power only six minutes. He would need to start wrapping things up soon. Damn, everything had happened so fast. He felt like barely 45 seconds had elapsed. A kind of eerie calm set over him whenever he used his power, even though physically it was very taxing for him to pump up the dogs (or even just one by themselves). Not only was it painful for him, it was dangerous for the dogs. If he used his power on them any more than 15-17 minutes or so, their nervous systems would begin to get overwhelmed and they would die. Isaiah had already learned that the hard way.
"I put my dog in the pit because I knew I could control the situation," he responded to their next ridiculous statement. "Not because I wanted to watch him tear these other dogs to shreds, which he absolutely could have." Isaiah swept his arms around himself in a circle, motioning towards the scared, agitated and barking dogs that rattled in cages behind them. "Every one of these dogs is going to be rehabilitated, adopted out, and placed into loving homes where they will never have to fight again." He hesitated, considering his options. To disengage would show weakness, but to press the attack would be foolish. Isaiah had literally no idea of what the metahuman had hidden up their sleeve.
"How did you knock my dog back like that?" he asked them, figuring he had nothing to lose. "What, do you make dynamite or something? Miniature bombs? Hmm?"
| © seadra of gs |
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 15, 2019 0:25:15 GMT
Got a feeling that I'm going under |
His hands balled into a fist as he watched Cesar and the metahuman engaged in a lethal dance. It didn't take but a moment for Isaiah to decide that the metahuman didn't have an Auxiliary or Striker powerset, which had been his biggest worry. Judging by the way they did everything possible to avoid Cesar's blows, their power didn't give them any sort of enhanced strength or damage control ability. Isaiah hadn't noticed any sort of fireballs or lightning strikes flung Cesar's way either- low likelihood this meta was a Blaster. And then when it seemed like Cesar was going in for the kill, the meta activated some device that Isaiah hadn't seen, but must have been holding in their hand.
Fucking Gadgets.
Cesar was blown back like he'd been punched by a stick of dynamite, a pitiful yelp of pain emitting from his jaws as he hit the ground hard. Isaiah cried out as Cesar struggled to his feet, clearly stunned and disoriented, shutting his mouth just as quickly as he'd opened it to yell. He was trying to project a persona of confidence, like this battle was something he and Cesar had been through a million times, even though underneath his nerves raced through his body at a million miles a second. A series of plans began to formulate in his mind, although each filled with major perils. Isaiah had no idea what other kind of tricks this person had up their sleeve.
Fuck Gadgets, he thought to himself for probably the fiftieth time in the last thirty seconds.
The person's voice was weak, their breath labored from the exertion of their scuffle with Cesar, but their words rang in Isaiah's mind as loud as a siren. There was an edge to it, a sort of confidence that made Isaiah wary. The meta seemed slightly put out, but at the same time they could have been bored and agitated more than genuinely afraid. Plus the tone of their voice made Isaiah think that they had some sort of Ace of Spades on hand for last resorts. Isaiah did not want to incite the last resort. He let out a whistle, one he had trained both Cesar and Athena on since they were puppies- return and guard. Cesar hesitated slightly and looked back Isaiah's way, clearly torn between wanting to press the attack and wanting to obey his master.
Isaiah repeated the whistle in a stern tone (could whistles display emotions like that? Isaiah thought they could) and reiterated the command with a hand movement, and Cesar bounded to his side in an instant, his body turned lengthwise in front of Isaiah, separating him from the Gadget across the room. At his current size Cesar's hip was about level with Isaiah's nose, although he knew the dog could get much larger if needed. Isaiah hoped it wouldn't come to that.
"Stopping sounds like a pretty good plan to me, thanks," Isaiah called back to him, his voice much steadier than the other meta's. He hoped that they interpreted his tone as confidence. "Although I should get my dog to finish you. What kind of asshole shows up to an underground dog fight? What the hell is wrong with you?"
| © seadra of gs |
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Jun 14, 2019 22:57:38 GMT
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 14, 2019 22:57:38 GMT
[googlefont=Inconsolata] "Yeah, I was born and raised here," Isaiah responded to his new friend. He talked about his childhood growing up in the Bay and all the changes he'd seen; he talked about his family, and his parents' veterinary practice; he talked about his siblings and what it was like to be the youngest of four. Even though his life experiences had been pretty mild compared to some, he found that he was rarely asked to talk about his past and it felt good to do so. "What about you?" he turned the question to Brian. Isaiah thought he had the look of someone who had spent the majority of his life on the West Coast, but it was always hard to tell. The sun had reached its peak in the sky and was beginning its slow descent back beyond the horizon, and Isaiah glanced down at his Apple Watch and realized he and Brian had spent the better part of an hour and a half sitting here shooting the breeze. Isaiah prided himself on being an easy conversationalist and easy to approach person, but even he wouldn't have expected to have made friends with a person like Brian when he started his day. Yet here they were, enjoying each other's company, reminding Isaiah that first impressions could very often be wrong ones. His mind wandered to all the other things he could be doing: groceries to be bought, laundry to be done, bathrooms to be cleaned. But he decided to follow some advice he had been hearing from multiple different sources lately and try to live in the moment. It was a beautiful afternoon, the dogs were enjoying themselves, and whatever tasks Isaiah had to accomplish would be there whether or not he left two hours ago or two hours from now, but in two hours from now it might be raining or the dogs might be tired and he wouldn't be able to enjoy the moment he was so relishing right now. So it ended up being an obvious choice, and he stretched his arms over his head as he rearranged himself on the bench he'd been occupying since they arrived. He was trying to think of some other topic to engage Brian in when a large pop rang out from behind him. He craned his neck around as fast as he could just in time to see an explosion rocking a building across the street from the park. Other people at the dog park had noticed the commotion too, and all the dogs started to bark and whine and become anxious. People from across the street were pouring out of the building- Isaiah couldn't tell if it was a bank or office building or what- looking disheveled, screaming in pain, grasping at body parts. Isaiah felt his heart rate double in a period of three seconds. Something involving a metahuman? he asked himself, hoping that the answer would be no. He turned to Brian and asked "What the fuck was that?" with a scared edge to his voice. Brian Harris
IT
ISN'T
IN
MY
BLOOD
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
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Jun 12, 2019 23:22:27 GMT
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 12, 2019 23:22:27 GMT
Now I Need Someone to
Breathe
Me
Back
to Life |
His stomach was a mess of knots and tangles. Sweat pooled in his palms. His heart beat irregularly, like the mismatched taps of an inexperienced drummer. Isaiah had fared down plenty of scary things in his life, not even including the various heroes and villains who had antagonized him these past few months (or had he been the one antagonizing them?), but nothing made him feel as vulnerable and weak and incapable as girls.
He knew that overall he was a pretty nice looking guy, and people seemed to like him well enough, seemed to genuinely laugh at his jokes, etc. In his mind he knew there were few objective reasons why he should be so nervous on a first date, but when did reason ever carry much weight when feelings were involved? Maybe it was because he hadn't seriously dated anyone since high school, and he was beginning to realize that relationship probably didn't qualify as "serious" in the real world. Maybe it was because he'd noticed his body getting a little soft compared what it used to be when he was a few years younger. Perhaps it was because he'd met this girl on Tinder.
He didn't want to go to Tinder for dates, but literally everyone used it, and after a few friends sold him on the idea, he downloaded the app and started swiping. He found himself swiping left more than right, and at first he found the concept of looking for dates like window shopping at the mall to be kind of strange, but after 15 or so minutes he was sold and swiping left and right with a reckless abandon. He had swiped right immediately upon seeing Alyssa's profile, and was happy to hear a ping a few hours later indicating that she'd swiped on him as well.
She was a breathtakingly beautiful girl, and there was something about her that Isaiah found to be familiar but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was very happy to learn that she was as interesting and engaging as she was pretty. Their conversation was fun, and Isaiah found himself staring down at his phone with a stupid grin on his face more frequently over the next few days than he was accustomed to. He suggested the idea of a date almost because it seemed like a necessary part of Tinder etiquette, and his stomach had almost done a backflip when she'd said yes.
They decided to go skating for their first date, because honestly, how boring is meeting someone over coffee? Isaiah was a firm believer that first dates should be activities, whether playing goofy golf or going skating or making a meal from scratch together. Coffee and movies could always come later. So he arrived at the skating rink 15 minutes before their appointed meeting time. It was kind of weird to him how she had insisted on going to this skating rink further outside of town- not like there were hundreds to choose from or anything, it wasn't the '90s anymore after all- but this one was definitely farther away than he'd have picked.
He focused on keeping his breath even and kept his eyes fixed on his phone as he leaned against the side of the building, waiting for her to show up. Should he have offered to pick her up and drive here? Oh well, too late now. And worrying about whether he had mucked it all up already wasn't going to help anything. All he could do now would be to wait for her to show up.
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
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Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 9, 2019 22:58:09 GMT
Got a feeling that I'm going under |
He fought the pit of anxiety that swelled and sat heavy as a bowling ball in the pit of his stomach. He ignored the cool sweat dripping off his face. Isaiah wasn't a violent person, and he certainly wasn't the type who derived pleasure from the pain and suffering of others. He focused on his breathing, keeping the in, out, in, out steady and calm. He kept the ultimate goal firmly planted in his mind, which was of course the elimination of dog fighting altogether. The screams of men gasping their final breaths almost seemed far away, even as he fixed his gaze firmly upon Cesar's mutated form and the people he was throwing around like rag dolls. Some had pulled out guns- these types were always illegally carrying guns- but even if they got off a few shots on Cesar, it would take nothing short of a few AK-47s to to bring him down in his current form.
He was pleased to see that there was less blood this time overall than some of the previous rings he had busted up. Pit bulls naturally had a bite and tear attack type, something attributed to the nature of their evolutionary history, and Isaiah had spent a lot of time teaching Cesar to use the force of his head and paws instead of just his teeth. In Isaiah's mind this was a more ethical form of maiming. At the very least, it was a kind that resulted in broken bones, snapped spines and internal bleeding as opposed to missing arms, severed arteries, and pools of blood. It was infinitely easier for him to watch.
This would be over soon. The thought came as a comfort to Isaiah. He didn't like doing this, and he wished there were other ways, but other options were available to him? The police were inefficient and indifferent. Politicians were even worse, and even if passing legislation that "cracked down" on illegal dog fighting was easy moral grandstanding, nothing ever seemed to change. His parents had been advocating against the practice since before he was even born, and yet the problem was arguably worse today than it had ever been. No, whatever foreign country or mad scientist or whatever had unleashed the biochemical agent had created an incredible power within him, and he planned to use it for what he believed was good.
His eyes scanned the room, taking in the carnage. Yep, definitely over soon. In another minute or so he would give the whistle to Cesar and call off the attack. Then he would cut off his power and watch as Cesar shook off the effects of his ability like a snake shedding its extra skin. The body count on the floor was at least 25 to 30 people; some were positions in admittedly funny positions, sprawled out in awkward positions against walls and on tables. Some were spasming lightly, moaning in pain... Isaiah felt his breath cut short in his throat when his eyes made their way to the far side of the room. There was a person standing there, eyes fixed directly on him. This person's face didn't convey any sense of dread or panic. If anything they looked bored, or at the very most intrigued.
Fuck, the thought hit him like a freight train. Another meta.
And before he could do anything else, Cesar turned his sights on the Meta, his prehensile tail snapping around him like a slaver's whip, and lunged at the person with a snarl.
| © seadra of gs |
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
|
Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 5, 2019 0:48:42 GMT
[googlefont=Inconsolata] Isaiah immediately began to let the conciliatory apologies flow from his mouth. "Oh my god, dude, of course! My bad. Take a seat. I didn't mean to be rude... which is now the second time I've had to say that to you in less than 10 minutes. I promise I'm not full of shit when I say that." He flashed the same sheepish grin Brian's way, the one he'd had plastered on his face pretty much since the moment he and Brian had begun their conversation. Man, what was going on in this guy's head that made him so self conscious and unsure of himself? Isaiah was pleased to see that Brian seemed at least cautiously intrigued by the idea of doing some work with an animal shelter. He'd seen it a million times: people on the brink of despair brought back from the edge after having an animal, or a group of animals, to look after. Animals provide nothing but love to their owners, Isaiah knew, and they were totally dependent on said owners for food and shelter and protection and everything else. Knowing that there was a creature who loved you unconditionally and relied upon you for daily survival was a huge motivating factor for many people. Maybe it would be for Brian, too. He began to open his mouth and rattle off a name of animal shelters Brian should check out, but he stopped himself. Isaiah had a tendency to totally railroad people in this way: if he got even an inkling that an idea he had crafted would be accepted, he'd take it and run with it. It came from a good place, a place of genuine excitement and a rush from executing plans, but people had to live their own lives. Given half the chance Isaiah would try to live everyone's lives for them, and end up pissing them off (and himself, too). Instead he chose to focus on Brian's rather insightful comment about pit bulls. "It's the owner and the way the dog is raised, 100%," Isaiah opined with a solemn nod. "A loaded gun is only dangerous depending on who's holding it. A responsible person isn't going to cause carnage, but an irresponsible or malicious person definitely could." He reached down to give Cesar an extra scratch behind the ears. Thankfully he hadn't experienced too much pit hostility in his life, but he knew it was out there. His parents had experienced it as vets numerous times: people walking in with their pugs and beagles had a tendency to act guarded if they entered a vet waiting room and saw a pit there waiting, too. "I hope my comment about guns didn't bother you too much," Isaiah followed suddenly. "I know it's weird around these parts, but my dad is originally from Houston and it's about the only thing still southern about him." Isaiah shrugged. Brian's comment that he hadn't encountered anyone as nice as Isaiah in a long time made the brunette boy's heart break. What in the fuck was wrong with people? Sure, Brian was a little odd- at this point he was assuming some sort of past family trauma or mental issues, maybe a combination of both- but did that make him any less deserving of friendship and compassion? Of course not. People could be so short sighted. Kindness, his mother had often said to him, is the most valuable gift you can give someone that doesn't cost you a dime. Isaiah had mountains of kindness to share with Isaiah. A sound towards the end of the dog park snapped him out of his thoughts, and he let out a chuckle as Athena and Cesar broke away to go join the ruckus of dogs all going after a frisbee that was currently soaring through the air. It bothered Isaiah slightly that his two dogs ran off from him after they had been called without him giving the "at ease" whistle, but they were still young and it would be unrealistic to expect them to be perfect. He looked at Brian as the dogs ran off and motioned to them with a shrug as if to say, "What can ya do?" Brian Harris
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ISN'T
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MY
BLOOD
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
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Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 2, 2019 16:27:34 GMT
[googlefont=Inconsolata] "I do have a whistle for each of them, yeah," Isaiah offered. He conveniently neglected to mention that fact that one of his main reasons for training the dogs with whistles is so that he could keep them under control when his power turned them into running, jumping, sentient tanks. His power made dogs stronger, faster, more lethal, and although he couldn't be 100% sure, he also got the feeling it made them more feral. More driven by instinct. Because of this he had to make absolutely certain that he had a way to control them, to keep them tethered to reality. Brian's compliment about them being well trained pleased him. When Brian apologized for maybe the 15th time during their first five minutes of ever having known each other, Isaiah decided he needed to be as kind and welcoming as possible. This guy obviously had some confidence issues to go along with whatever other issues he had going on, but at least the guy was trying. Isaiah had to remind himself that not everyone was as naturally social as he was; just like some people had natural talents for drawing or being athletic or singing, he had a natural talent for making friends and talking to people. It was a talent he knew not everyone shared. Isaiah wrinkled his nose at Brian's mention of cats, and hoped the exaggerated look on his face indicated to the other man that he was joking. "Cats and I do not get along. They are really cute though. I've always been a dog person." Isaiah wondered if by the tone of Brian's voice, there was some external factor preventing him from owning an animal. Isaiah also knew that people who had been through all different kinds of traumas and issues benefited greatly from interaction with animals. A thought popped into his mind and before he had time to decide if it was a wise one, his lips were moving. "My parents are veterinarians, and they work pretty closely with a few animal shelters in town. Have you ever thought about volunteering at one? There are so many dogs and cats there who need people to love them and play with them. I would do it myself if I had more free time!" At Brian's request, Isaiah nudged Cesar towards the other man and gave him a look as if to say, He's okay, boy. Go give him some love for a few minutes. Looks like he needs it.After Cesar sauntered over Brian's way, still with a wary look in his eyes but ever obedient to his master, Isaiah shook his head at himself. "Sorry, I can be really rude sometimes. My name is Isaiah." He put his hand out, offering Brian a shake. "Always nice to meet a new friend, Brian," he said, hoping the word friend with put the other man at ease and make him feel welcome. Brian Harris
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ISN'T
IN
MY
BLOOD
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ALIAS
Cerberus
CLASSIFICATION
Gleam
POWER
Canine Physiology Manipulation
AGE
20
Vigilante
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Post by Isaiah Moore on Jun 2, 2019 15:53:38 GMT
Got a feeling that I'm going under |
Of all the underground dog fighting arenas he'd seen over the past few months, this one was both the least impressive and most upsetting. They were in a warehouse, although it could have been more rightly described as an over-sized room; a moldy, musty smell permeated the gathering and hung in the air along with the stale cigarette smoke and stench of cheap beer. There were more people in the room than it could comfortably accommodate, from what he could see from his current vantage point. He was off to the side behind a gate with other "trainers," their dogs all in cages, waiting to enter the pit when the fighting began.
The pit itself was small, ugly, and poorly designed. Maybe 80 square feet of concrete in the middle of the room was partitioned off and surrounded by a flimsy barbwire fence. The viewing area outside of the arena was not raised in any way, meaning nothing more than that frail barrier the only thing separating the spectators from the competitors. A stupid design, Isaiah thought to himself, but it made his job here tonight that much easier. A series of studio lights were scattered randomly around the fighting pit, illuminating the show for the viewers and impeding the vision of the dogs.
Isaiah shot a glance over towards Cesar, locked away in a small cage, surrounded by snapping and anxious dogs in other carriers. He kept his gaze steady and wished for the millionth time that his power gave him some sort of telepathic connection with his dogs. How badly he wanted to be able to explain things to Cesar, to assure him that they were doing this for the greater good and it would all be over soon... but that wasn't an option. And still, this wasn't their first time doing this. Isaiah had to believe that the trust he'd established with his pittie meant Cesar had confidence in his master.
He heard a sort of bell start to go off and a whoop of excitement from the crowd. His blood immediately began to boil. He hated dog fighting, fucking hated it, and being here almost made him into a nervous wreck. It's for the greater good, he admonished himself again, the phrase becoming almost like a religious mantra in his mind. The positive part of this was that Isaiah had coordinated to make sure that Cesar was in the first pairings of dogs to enter the ring, so no animals were going to needlessly suffer this time. As a referee came to hoist Cesar's cage out of the bunch and put him in the arena, Isaiah slinked around and tried to get out of sight while still keeping an eye on the ring.
Whenever he was around dogs, Isaiah's power felt like a massive rush of water being held back by a dam. It sizzled at the edge of his consciousness, like hands that wanted to reach out and grab hold of anything canine that they could find. It was a constant effort to restrain that impulse. Now he let it go. He locked his eyes on Cesar and focused on the animal's energy, feeling the strength of his muscles, the beating of his heart, the heave of his lungs. Isaiah let Cesar's essence sweep into his mind, and his mind reached out for places of raw power that could be improved. Modified. Pumped up.
Before Cesar had even left his cage, he was already 1.5 times bigger and stronger than when he was put in it. It was impossible to hear the sounds of ripping flesh, expanding bone, and elongating muscle over the roar of the crowd, but soon it would be evident to everyone. When Cesar entered the ring he was thrown in with another pit bull type dog, this one larger than Cesar when Isaiah's power was not at work. In 15 seconds Cesar had exceeded the other dog's size. In another 30 seconds, he was approaching the size of a miniature horse.
The joyful cheers and jeers from the spectators was slowly being replaced by confused "huh?"s and "what's going on?"s. Isaiah didn't need to use his power to its full extent- Cesar was going to be just fine without getting to the size of a Chevy Tahoe. He was about the a quarter of the way to his full potential now, maybe a little bit smaller than a Toyota Camry. Still, he was terrifying. Shrieks went up from the crowd as some inevitably began to scramble for a way out.
Isaiah whistled. Cesar's ears perked up and Isaiah whistled again, a command he only whistled in these very particular situations. Cesar pushed the other dog out of the way and lunged into the crowd, ripping through the barbwire enclosure like it was made of toilet tissue, claws barred, teeth snarling, a horrible growl emanating from his muzzle. When Cesar was done with things, none of these men would ever be around to dog fight again.
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