Derek58
Rocket Punch is Best Punch
- Location
- Getter Valhalla
Ahh, gotcha
-
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My Hero Origin
- Thread starter Swordomatic
- Start date
- Superhero
Carrnage
Human
- Location
- New Zealand
Don't you wanna feel like a hero?
- Location
- England
Hmm, I see.
Very well, I accept your proposal.
[X] The old lady. Focus on rescuing her, and anyone else the villain may have taken hostage. Their safety is the priority, and as long as you can ensure that, everything will be fine.
Very well, I accept your proposal.
[X] The old lady. Focus on rescuing her, and anyone else the villain may have taken hostage. Their safety is the priority, and as long as you can ensure that, everything will be fine.
Update 2 - Before You Knew It
- Location
- Singapore
This is super late but y'know enjoy
----
The old lady. Above all else, you have to save her. It's not fair. She, more than most people, should not be the hostage of some maniac with finger gun powers. The police won't be here in time, and there is no one else around. No one to distract the villain, or calm him down, or even gawk and stare. Arrogant as it sounds, there is just you.
Hopefully, the old lady won't hold it against you.
What glass remains beneath your feet crunches as you reach into the power within you and draw on it. You feel ice in your veins as the flow of time seems to slow around you. Everything comes into focus, sharpens and heightens in detail, like a lucid dream. Your actions seem faster, sharper, twitchier even to you, but this is fine. Because you feel it again, the familiar rush. Knowing that you are faster than any human alive. Aching for a chance to prove it.
You take one step, and then another, and fly into the shattered storefront with superhuman speed. The villain is behind the counter, holding a hand behind the old lady's neck as she rifles through the counter while begging for her life. He is wearing a balaclava over his head. He turns up to look at you slowly, almost bored.
You know it only looks that way. You know less than a second has passed, and he's still trying to process your arrival. You know none of it matters as long as he has his hand on her neck.
You run at him, leaping over the counter and into him. He cries out and bowls over into a stand. You scoop your arm around the old lady's arm, take care to secure her neck, and dash back out of the store. As you turn, something grazes your shoulder. You ignore it. You were running anyways.
The old lady is hyperventilating when you set her down outside her store, behind a wall for cover. You put your hands on her shoulders, trying to find the words. She's panicking. It's the late afternoon. Some punk with metal nails wrecked her shop and threatened to kill her for money. There is no way she is coming out of this smiling.
But you do. As warmly as you can, for all that matters. "Relax," you try to say nonchalantly. You want to say more, but nothing else comes out. Everything, like sayings and idioms and niceties, gets lost to speed. You know you have time, but you feel like you have to go, now. So you nod at the old lady and run back into her shop, still smiling.
He is waiting for you this time, both hands raised and every finger pointed at you. "Y-You son of a bitch!" He yells, each syllable dragged out. "I-I'm gonna k-kill you!"
You try to think of a retort, but even one second stretched into two isn't long enough for your wit. Metal fingernails fly out at you with enough speed to crack concrete before words form on your lips. You elect on an incoherent scream instead, running straight at him with fists clenched.
You duck under one, two shots. The third flies through your hair. The fourth grazes your bicep. You get in close and the villain never gets to fire the rest. Your fist slams into his nose, and he cries out in pain and shock. The villain crashes against the floor, bleeding from a split lip.
"D-De fug--" He snarls, his nose shattered. You grunt and kick him in the side. He smashes into a display shelf full of bottled drinks and they explode into a fizzy mess. He falls down and does not get up again.
You exhale, a job well done, and let go of your power. The world returns to normal, and you feel pain again. Your knuckles are split, and you sprained your ankle. Your shoulder and bicep sting. So does your head, and a spot check with your palm confirms that yes, you are in fact bleeding. You let out a sigh and squat down, wringing your wrist.
Man, you should have learned to throw a punch. It hurts. This is nothing like anime.
You stumble out of the store, limping on one leg and holding your hand in the other, and sit down beside the old lady. She's staring off into the distance, breathing heavily. You glance over at her and shrug. She's not even listening.
You hear sirens just a few minutes later, and heave a sigh of relief when a police officers run into the front. "He's over there," you say when one of them stands over you, too tired to raise your head.
"Put your hands up, sir. Now."
Wait, what?
You look up, and find a policeman pointing a taser at you. You raise your hands dumbly, looking at him. "You have it all wrong, officer, I--"
"Hands up, or it's the taser."
You nod, and let out a long sigh as your hands are cuffed. Good deeds never go unpunished, do they?
----
It's evening by the time you arrive at the precinct. It's busy as it usually is, police cars clogging the lanes and traffic filtering in and out of the building. You see dozens of officers wandering the lobby on a saturday night, all of them on duty. Many of them have bags under their eyes, and more than half have a mug in one hand and a stack of papers under the other arm. Just another weekend in Japan.
You don't see much of the lobby, though, nor do you find anyone you recognise. The officer handling you seems painfully familiar with the procedure, and within minutes you find yourself sitting before another nonplussed middle-aged cop behind a computer, your picture already taken for the official record.
"Your name?" She asks in a bored tone. "It's easier if you just say it," she adds, before you can open your mouth.
You roll your eyes, but tell her anyways. Jeez, it's supposed to be in the system already. They already have your fingerprints. "It's…"
[x][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
[x][NAME] Write-In a Name
She nods in an obviously uninterested way, slowly typing away on her keyboard - mechanical, if the click-clacks are any sign. At least the police still have good taste in keyboards. You hardly have time to dwell on it out of sheer boredom, though, because she starts talking again. "A speed quirk user, huh?"
"Yeah," you nod. "I generate charge through physical activity, and I can--"
"Not that interested."
You nod, and fall quiet again. "It's why I leave afterimages."
She glances over the monitor, frowning. "I'm not seeing afterimages right now."
"I lose them for a while after I use my quirk. It means I'm not on full charge."
"Right," she says drolly. More typing, more click-clacking. It's a nice noise though, you're used to it. "So you used your quirk at the minimart? It's against the law, kid."
"Yeah," you nod. "The other guy had a quirk too, though. I had to do something."
"No you didn't," she replies flatly. "Someone called the police. We would have handled it."
"I know," you say, "I called the police."
She looks at you again, over the monitor with a annoyed look. "Then why would you run in if you called?"
You start to groan before providing what seems like an obvious answer, but… Then you really think about it. And it just unravels in your head.
Why did you run in? Why did you decide to save the old lady, knowing the police were on the way?
[x] You were there, and the police were not. What else is there to say?
[x] You thought about how the old lady felt, and how scared she must have been, and then it stopped being a decision at all.
[x] It was a spur of the moment thing, and honestly you kind of regret it. What were you thinking?
[x] You go to the store frequently and the old lady is your only source of good oat cereal. Why wouldn't you run in?
[x] You saw that the shop was wrecked by another quirk user, and that made you angry.
----
The old lady. Above all else, you have to save her. It's not fair. She, more than most people, should not be the hostage of some maniac with finger gun powers. The police won't be here in time, and there is no one else around. No one to distract the villain, or calm him down, or even gawk and stare. Arrogant as it sounds, there is just you.
Hopefully, the old lady won't hold it against you.
What glass remains beneath your feet crunches as you reach into the power within you and draw on it. You feel ice in your veins as the flow of time seems to slow around you. Everything comes into focus, sharpens and heightens in detail, like a lucid dream. Your actions seem faster, sharper, twitchier even to you, but this is fine. Because you feel it again, the familiar rush. Knowing that you are faster than any human alive. Aching for a chance to prove it.
You take one step, and then another, and fly into the shattered storefront with superhuman speed. The villain is behind the counter, holding a hand behind the old lady's neck as she rifles through the counter while begging for her life. He is wearing a balaclava over his head. He turns up to look at you slowly, almost bored.
You know it only looks that way. You know less than a second has passed, and he's still trying to process your arrival. You know none of it matters as long as he has his hand on her neck.
You run at him, leaping over the counter and into him. He cries out and bowls over into a stand. You scoop your arm around the old lady's arm, take care to secure her neck, and dash back out of the store. As you turn, something grazes your shoulder. You ignore it. You were running anyways.
The old lady is hyperventilating when you set her down outside her store, behind a wall for cover. You put your hands on her shoulders, trying to find the words. She's panicking. It's the late afternoon. Some punk with metal nails wrecked her shop and threatened to kill her for money. There is no way she is coming out of this smiling.
But you do. As warmly as you can, for all that matters. "Relax," you try to say nonchalantly. You want to say more, but nothing else comes out. Everything, like sayings and idioms and niceties, gets lost to speed. You know you have time, but you feel like you have to go, now. So you nod at the old lady and run back into her shop, still smiling.
He is waiting for you this time, both hands raised and every finger pointed at you. "Y-You son of a bitch!" He yells, each syllable dragged out. "I-I'm gonna k-kill you!"
You try to think of a retort, but even one second stretched into two isn't long enough for your wit. Metal fingernails fly out at you with enough speed to crack concrete before words form on your lips. You elect on an incoherent scream instead, running straight at him with fists clenched.
You duck under one, two shots. The third flies through your hair. The fourth grazes your bicep. You get in close and the villain never gets to fire the rest. Your fist slams into his nose, and he cries out in pain and shock. The villain crashes against the floor, bleeding from a split lip.
"D-De fug--" He snarls, his nose shattered. You grunt and kick him in the side. He smashes into a display shelf full of bottled drinks and they explode into a fizzy mess. He falls down and does not get up again.
You exhale, a job well done, and let go of your power. The world returns to normal, and you feel pain again. Your knuckles are split, and you sprained your ankle. Your shoulder and bicep sting. So does your head, and a spot check with your palm confirms that yes, you are in fact bleeding. You let out a sigh and squat down, wringing your wrist.
Man, you should have learned to throw a punch. It hurts. This is nothing like anime.
You stumble out of the store, limping on one leg and holding your hand in the other, and sit down beside the old lady. She's staring off into the distance, breathing heavily. You glance over at her and shrug. She's not even listening.
You hear sirens just a few minutes later, and heave a sigh of relief when a police officers run into the front. "He's over there," you say when one of them stands over you, too tired to raise your head.
"Put your hands up, sir. Now."
Wait, what?
You look up, and find a policeman pointing a taser at you. You raise your hands dumbly, looking at him. "You have it all wrong, officer, I--"
"Hands up, or it's the taser."
You nod, and let out a long sigh as your hands are cuffed. Good deeds never go unpunished, do they?
----
It's evening by the time you arrive at the precinct. It's busy as it usually is, police cars clogging the lanes and traffic filtering in and out of the building. You see dozens of officers wandering the lobby on a saturday night, all of them on duty. Many of them have bags under their eyes, and more than half have a mug in one hand and a stack of papers under the other arm. Just another weekend in Japan.
You don't see much of the lobby, though, nor do you find anyone you recognise. The officer handling you seems painfully familiar with the procedure, and within minutes you find yourself sitting before another nonplussed middle-aged cop behind a computer, your picture already taken for the official record.
"Your name?" She asks in a bored tone. "It's easier if you just say it," she adds, before you can open your mouth.
You roll your eyes, but tell her anyways. Jeez, it's supposed to be in the system already. They already have your fingerprints. "It's…"
[x][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
[x][NAME] Write-In a Name
She nods in an obviously uninterested way, slowly typing away on her keyboard - mechanical, if the click-clacks are any sign. At least the police still have good taste in keyboards. You hardly have time to dwell on it out of sheer boredom, though, because she starts talking again. "A speed quirk user, huh?"
"Yeah," you nod. "I generate charge through physical activity, and I can--"
"Not that interested."
You nod, and fall quiet again. "It's why I leave afterimages."
She glances over the monitor, frowning. "I'm not seeing afterimages right now."
"I lose them for a while after I use my quirk. It means I'm not on full charge."
"Right," she says drolly. More typing, more click-clacking. It's a nice noise though, you're used to it. "So you used your quirk at the minimart? It's against the law, kid."
"Yeah," you nod. "The other guy had a quirk too, though. I had to do something."
"No you didn't," she replies flatly. "Someone called the police. We would have handled it."
"I know," you say, "I called the police."
She looks at you again, over the monitor with a annoyed look. "Then why would you run in if you called?"
You start to groan before providing what seems like an obvious answer, but… Then you really think about it. And it just unravels in your head.
Why did you run in? Why did you decide to save the old lady, knowing the police were on the way?
[x] You were there, and the police were not. What else is there to say?
[x] You thought about how the old lady felt, and how scared she must have been, and then it stopped being a decision at all.
[x] It was a spur of the moment thing, and honestly you kind of regret it. What were you thinking?
[x] You go to the store frequently and the old lady is your only source of good oat cereal. Why wouldn't you run in?
[x] You saw that the shop was wrecked by another quirk user, and that made you angry.
Last edited:
Massgamer
Advance toward the Future
- Location
- The Future
[x][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
[x] You thought about how the old lady felt, and how scared she must have been, and then it stopped being a decision at all.
A true hero acts when it is to protect others and you move without even thinking about it.
[x] You thought about how the old lady felt, and how scared she must have been, and then it stopped being a decision at all.
A true hero acts when it is to protect others and you move without even thinking about it.
- Location
- England
[X][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
[X] You were there, and the police were not. What else is there to say?
Clearly I'm going against the grain with this one, but I'm voting for this option instead. It's more similar to the main choice than I believe the other three are, so there is that.
[X] You were there, and the police were not. What else is there to say?
Clearly I'm going against the grain with this one, but I'm voting for this option instead. It's more similar to the main choice than I believe the other three are, so there is that.
- Location
- in the trash
[x] You go to the store frequently and the old lady is your only source of good oat cereal. Whywouldn't you run in?
NonSequtur
a body
[x][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
meh
[ ] Because you've recently become the protagonist of a super hero story. You're a slave to genre cliches, man.
[ ] You thought about how the old lady felt, and how scared she must have been, and then it stopped being a decision at all.
[x] You go to the store frequently and the old lady is your only source of good oat cereal. Why wouldn't you run in?
"I'm just a good samaritan I guess, helping old ladies cross the street, cheat at bingo and escape hostage situations. I have a soft spot for the ones that give me horrendous food that I can eat for others' entertainment instead of torturing their grandkids with it. I volunteer down at the old folks home and use super speed to swindle them in yahtzee in order to pay for my crippling addiction to chocolate covered oats and she's my only supplier so really I had to step because if I don't get my oats I might literally die."
She looks decidedly unimpressed. "Okay, try again, but without the bullshit."
Can you do that? "Because I'm socially isolated and latched on to the person I tell shitty jokes to and buy food from on a weekly basis?"
You're not really sure how much of that is bullshit, but the officer doesn't bother asking you again, noting something down. With your luck it's 'completely insufferable, handle roughly'.
meh
[ ] You thought about how the old lady felt, and how scared she must have been, and then it stopped being a decision at all.
[x] You go to the store frequently and the old lady is your only source of good oat cereal. Why wouldn't you run in?
"I'm just a good samaritan I guess, helping old ladies cross the street, cheat at bingo and escape hostage situations. I have a soft spot for the ones that give me horrendous food that I can eat for others' entertainment instead of torturing their grandkids with it. I volunteer down at the old folks home and use super speed to swindle them in yahtzee in order to pay for my crippling addiction to chocolate covered oats and she's my only supplier so really I had to step because if I don't get my oats I might literally die."
She looks decidedly unimpressed. "Okay, try again, but without the bullshit."
Can you do that? "Because I'm socially isolated and latched on to the person I tell shitty jokes to and buy food from on a weekly basis?"
You're not really sure how much of that is bullshit, but the officer doesn't bother asking you again, noting something down. With your luck it's 'completely insufferable, handle roughly'.
ZerbanDaGreat
Daemon Noble of D E M O G R A P H I C S
- Pronouns
- They/them
"Because he had a hostage and I'm a speedster, thot. I was in and out literally before he knew what hit him."
Actually yeah fuck it here we go.
[X][x][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
[X] Write-in: You were the right person for the job.
You did a good deed. Yeah you broke the law but abiding by the rules and doing good deeds don't always 100% line up, everyone knows that. Everyone lets shit slide sometimes, everyone makes exceptions, everyone knows that sometimes you can be in the wrong and still be totally right. This? This is... this is one of those times.
It's weird to think but it is.
"Because it would've been stupid not to," you reply, in what's mostly a surly grunt.
"I beg your pardon?" She has that tone, that Tone, that's secretly code for 'I'm giving you one chance to retract what you just said before things get even worse'. It has the opposite effect it's supposed to. It turns the surly frustration into actual anger, and the spark brings back your energy. You sit up straighter in your chair and lean forward.
"He had a hostage, alright!" you exclaim, gesticulating. It's probably not your Quirk activating but hell it actually feels like it as you talk faster and faster, louder and more righteously furious. "And basically guns for fingers! What, what was gonna happen if I waited for you guys to show up? You would've pinned him down in the shop, got the cars and the horns, got him crazy and desperate? What if everyone started shooting, you think a little old lady's gonna come out fine with bullets flying around everywhere? I'm fast, okay, so fast I'm pretty sure I can dodge bullets 'cause I kinda did! I was in and out of there with her literally before he knew what was happening!"
She lets you talk. Somehow that's the worst way she could've responded. Because then, once you've had a little bit to breathe heavily and realise that maybe you just did a very bad thing, she replies.
"Then why did you leave her in the street and go back in to assault the perpetrator? With your, as you say, copious speed."
...
Erm.
Shit.
- Location
- United States of America, Michigan
[X][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
[X] Write-in: You were the right person for the job.
[X] Write-in: You were the right person for the job.
D.D. Spectator
Strongest in the land
- Location
- Unknown
[X][x][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
[X] Write-in: You were the right person for the job.
[X] Write-in: You were the right person for the job.
- Location
- I think somewhere. I might be nowhere though
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Write-in: You were the right person for the job.
Last edited:
[x][NAME] ...Hasayo Sangou." (Default)
[x] You thought about how the old lady felt, and how scared she must have been, and then it stopped being a decision at all.
[x] You thought about how the old lady felt, and how scared she must have been, and then it stopped being a decision at all.