Scraped from
here.
"Nobody really knows where or when the Talents first came from.
Some say they were a product of World War Two, that the US and Nazi Germany cranked out a bunch of supersoldiers with crazy powers and that they were the "first generation", passing their weird genes and magic curses and whatever on to their kids until you couldn't point to a country on the map that didn't have at least one major Talent. Others say they didn't create the Talents, they only recruited them, pointing to old newspaper articles and photographs and letters and sheer rumors and saying that it only seems like there's more of them because of advances in global communication and reporting. Whatever the case may be, by the 21st century there were a whole damn lot of them running around the world, stopping disasters or creating them. And after that bleak summer of 2010, there were none left.
If people are divided on the origins of Talents, they're damn well at each other's throats arguing over where the Interlopers came from. All they can seem to agree on is that the fuckers weren't from around here, and didn't seem to like us very much. Historians call our first contact with them the Interloper "War", but really it should've been called "Armafuckinggeddon". There wasn't any war, just a solid week of panic and chaos as city after city on the West Coast was depopulated by some kind of light from space. LA, Seattle, San Fran, Tijuana, Vancouver…and that's not even counting what the smaller ships did to the other Pacific cities. The most popular figure quoted for the death toll is twenty million. I've heard some say thirty five is more accurate when you figure in deaths after V-Day caused by lack of running water, medical help, and starvation. Not on the West Coast, there wasn't a soul left in any of the affected cities; I'm talking about the Midwest, where countless cities were without power for three weeks thanks to the EMP from our own nukes going off halfway to orbit.
I think that was when everyone knew we were well and truly fucked. At least, until the Talents stepped up to bat.
To this day nobody knows how the hell they were able to organize so quickly. One moment our entire species is getting kicked in the teeth by ET and everyone with a gun is on a plane to the Pacific, the next almost three hundred Talents from all over show up at the doorstep of the Baikonur Cosmodrome in Russia with a plan to save the world. It took half of Russia's nuclear arsenal to cover their launch, and from what I hear there are parts of northern China that won't be habitable for another five hundred years, but somehow they got them all up in a fleet of capsules, shuttles, and cobbled-together spacecraft donated from every country that ever put a rocket on a launchpad. Nobody really knows what happened up there after they reached orbit, but the last thing anyone with a telescope saw was a fleet of Earth's finest fighting its way to the Interloper mothership.
Then in a flash of light, all of them were gone. That was probably Nova.
The smaller ships around the world fell out of the sky as soon as the big one disappeared. It wasn't long after that the world finally let out its collective breath and started picking up the pieces. Some people are still amazed at how quiet those first few years were; no squabbling over aid treaties, no terror groups taking advantage of the chaos to get a word in edgewise, no fighting to get hands on the crashed alien ships first–though that's probably because Australia gave the US full access to their specimen. If you ask me, I say we were just tired and didn't feel like getting in slapfights with each other when some motherfucker had just broken our jaws.
Whatever the case may be, we rebuilt. The West Coast cities were written off as radioactive wastelands, despite the intact infrastructure, and by 2013 the first Exclusion Zone was completed over Los Angeles; a giant steel and concrete memorial to everyone who died without warning or explanation. By 2018 the other domes were up over San Fran, and Seattle, and I hear they'll finish San Diego by 2020. Most of that's thanks to the aliens, ironically; we still don't know how most of their shit works, but it gave the world's scientists plenty of ideas on how to make ours better. In ten years we've had major advances in almost every field known to science, although it'll take a while for those wonders to trickle down to the general public. Shock-absorbing materials that can make a building's foundations laugh at a Magnitude 7 earthquake. Nanofabricators that can make a skyscraper in a week. Honest to God anti-gravity transport pods–at last we'll get our flying cars. And then there's the multitude of toys the military got their hands on: power armor, railguns, energy weapons of every kind…the Pentagon was a happy kid on Christmas morning.
Then there were the "Utopia" cities, America's biggest vanity project to date. Giant sprawling urban centers erected out in California, Oregon, and Washington as part of the Resettlement Program. Built with the most advanced technology we could get our hands on and advertised as "cities of the future", where survivors and refugees from the coast could move to start their lives over and show the world that we were serious about moving forward. New Calico, the flagship of the whole project, is mostly finished by now. The others have projected completion dates in 2023 and 2027 if NC doesn't turn into a giant waste of time and money. I hear the mob's already set up shop, like a tick infesting a newborn baby. New opportunities indeed.
The one thing that was missing in the post-contact world? Talents. Nobody knows where the fuck they went. Oh sure, pretty much the entire world's population up and vanished on Nova's suicide mission, but it's been nine years since then and the replacements have yet to crawl out of the woodwork. Maybe they figure the world doesn't need saving for the time being. Maybe the government's rounding them up when they poke their heads out of their holes. Maybe the fanatics are right, and the Interlopers were sent from God to purge the world of the heretics. All I can say for sure is, once we realized they were gone for good we started feeling real lonely on our little rock. Lasers and space armor and flying cars are well and good, but what happens if the Interlopers ever come back?
If you ask me, I'd say we're fucked."
Foreword from "A Sunny Day In June: The World After Heroes" by Edwin Cooper
Name: Selina Tarth
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Personality: Confident
Backstory:
+Talented Ancestor: Growing up, it seemed like the only stories your grandfather ever told you were about the Dust Walker, an All-American Talent of the 1920's and his grandfather. With a Colt in both hands, an uncanny aim, and the supernatural tendency to literally blow into town when trouble was about, the Dust Walker went down in history as one of the last legends of the Wild West.
-Humble Beginnings: Even before the Interloper War your family always struggled to make ends meet. Dad worked blue collar job after blue collar job, and Mom broke her back as a housemaid for more than a few families. When both of them died in the invasion, leaving you and your older brother Tracy orphaned, things certainly didn't get any better. You both stayed with friends of your parents until Trace was old enough to enlist in the marines, whereas you busted your butt in your studies to earn enough grant money to pay your way to college. Now you're working a 5-9 waitressing job on weeknights in addition to juggling student loans and your sophomore classes…but somehow you manage to make ends meet. Barely.
-Personal Guilt: The last memory you have of your parents is getting into a big roaring fight with them when you were ten. You don't even remember what the fight was even about–probably some stupid preteen bullshit drama–but shortly after you and Trace were sent to visit your grandparents in Nevada, leaving your parents in San Diego on the day the Interlopers changed the world forever. To this day you still wish things could have gone differently; that you could have had one last chance to say goodbye to them before they were taken from you. That you could have told them you didn't really hate them, and you're sorry you took them for granted until they were gone.
+Patron: After saving the life of Peter Garrison, you were more than a little astonished when he and his wife revealed to you that their son, Thomas Garrison, had been the famous Los Angeles Talent known as Green Streak. As thanks for saving Peter and to honor their son's memory they offered to pay for your full college education, as well as helping out with any other financial problems you might have and offering advice on how to cope with living the life of a civilian and a cape back to back.
Loved Ones:
-Tracey Tarth, Older Brother
-Melissa Allegri, Best Friend
-Jeremy Wright, Friend
-Marcus Phillips, Friend
-Doctor Kathryn Langley, Friend
-Professor Omid Ahmadi, Friend
Major: Physics
Power Source: Unknown
Powers: Gravity Manipulation, Light Manipulation
ARC ONE - Emergence
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Interlude One - The Breakout
ARC TWO - Maturation
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Interlude Two - Night Life
ARC THREE - Cohesion
Part One
Part Two
Part Three