Character of the Month

Character of the Month:

Member of the Month

Member of the Month:

Thread of the Month

Plot of the Month:
The Savage Land

Personal Photo

No Photo

Custom Title
Blackstar doesn't have a custom title currently.
Personal Info
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
No Information
Other Information
Character Quote: Face the Music
GIF 250px width x 150px height:
Age: 20
Player: Rider
Joined: 4-March 18
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Apr 24 2018, 10:43 AM
Local Time: Apr 25 2018, 03:31 PM
10 posts (0.2 per day)
( 0.08% of total forum posts )
Contact Information
AIM No Information
Yahoo No Information
GTalk No Information
MSN No Information
SKYPE No Information
No New Posts Message: Click here
No New Posts Email: Private
View Signature


X-Men Blue

My Content
Apr 7 2018, 11:33 AM
Oh. My. God.

Zeke thought they were actually trying to kill him. They totally knew he had lied about having any qualifications to teach anything. Turned out they let literally anyone in this place and you didn't have to have a job at all, because he was pretty sure people like the Canadian lumberjack midget didn't do jack around here besides terrify people. He could be doing what normal people did on Friday nights instead of having just spent the better part of the afternoon trying to dodge lasers and fireblasts and giant robots and honestly he wasn't sure what else because he had fallen off the obstacle course and was pretty sure they had left him unconscious for a little while before he woke up to someone throwing water in his face.

And if the X-Training didn't get him the students might. For one thing they had way scarier powers than he had expected. He wasn't about to assign homework to kids who could electrocute/stab/set on fire/compromise his identity/manipulate his blood him. And who knew what else. That was just a sampling. So really his class ought to be the most popular, but since he had no idea how to actually run a class that was sort of a problem if anyone decided to audit him. Like the bald dude who could read minds or the hot ginger who answered questions before they were out of your mouth.

He was in so far over his head it wasn't funny. Kidnappings? Whatever that thing was they had talked about in that meeting yesterday? He still wasn't clear what they had even been talking about. One of the girls had tried to explain it afterwards, but since he only had a vague idea of who most of the people involved were and even less of an idea of the real scope of their powers he had just nodded a lot and tried to look like she hadn't wasted her time. Also the Southern accent was sort of distracting. And indecipherable to his California trained ears.

The rest of the Blue Team had dispersed to do whatever it was they did on their nights off (probably going to stop a few drug runners or something, no big deal), so still in his new training uniform (which was depressingly black and boring, but he didn't know how to sew so making a more personalized one was out) Zeke had decided the best place to be was in the sketchy sub-basement hallway, sitting on the floor with his legs blocking half the hallway and his head against the wall. It was easier than trying to find his room. Or running into someone who had watched him fall flat on his face for the millionth time.

Maybe he would just go back to couch surfing. This was way too hard and he sucked at it, whatever Mom-Hallucination said about making something of himself. He ought to just get the hell out of there before he got himself killed or eaten or just laughed out of there. It had basically been one bad thing after another.

Zeke was contemplating getting to his feet when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Just great. The one time he didn't want an audience and here one came.

Maybe if he kept his eyes closed they would have the decency to not notice his slightly charred self and just step over him on their way to do something that would undoubtedly be wicked cool and awesome.

Mar 4 2018, 09:21 PM
There was a resounding slam as yet another door was shut right in Zeke's face. Well. Rude. He didn't want to sleep on Mark's couch anyway. The springs were practically poking through. Sure he had been asleep at noon and hadn't bothered to put away his breakfast dishes but he had been busy in another one of those trippy illusions. Only this time it had broken down to his foster-mother, Maria, yelling at him.

Zeke sunk down to the sit on the front stairs of the apartment, going over the dream or whatever it was again.

"You're more than this Ezekiel. Drugs and alcohol and couch surfing." She had put her hands on her hips and fixed him with her best mom glare.

"Ehhh, well maybe."

"Get off your butt," she had started brandishing a wooden spoon that had appeared out of nowhere. "Go do something productive. You've been blessed with gifts. Your music, this power, go."

"Okay, okay. Fine. If it'll make you happy."

She had smiled. "It will."

And then that dick Mark had woken him up. Good-bye mom. Good-bye couch. Well. That chick with the horns had told him that there was a school for mutants in Westchester. Sounded sort of out of his price range, but they probably needed teachers. He was an adult. Who could teach. Stuff. Also he really was going to need a place to sleep tonight because it was cold and he was out of acquaintances unless he hit up Facebook for the psycho fangirls and that would probably get him like locked in a closet.

So he stood up, hauled his boxes and bags to his beat up old Kia and started driving, only stopping at a sketchy gas station to change out of pajama pants and into his best pair of jeans (the one without holes) and a white shirt under his sparkly suit jacket. Perfect.

The place wasn't as hard to find as he expected. There wasn't a sign or anything declaring it was a mutant school and possibly a top secret super hero training ground, but it looked like a posh school. Man he was glad he had worn the suit. He thought about putting the suit pants on too right there in the car, but naw somewhere like this probably had cameras. Better to wing it.

He rolled up to the intercom system even though half the gate was broken and pushed the buzzer once, then again. "Yo? I mean. Hello? I'm here because I heard from the grapevine, that's the teacher grapevine, that you guys needed a music teacher. So I have an appointment with uh, a Mister... Logan. Yeah that's the name they gave. Also I have these freaky mutant powers so that's a thing too." He had decided on the way over that music was the only thing he was in any form competent to teach, but also if he made it sound like he was there for a reason to the gate lackey they would probably let him in and he could figure it out from there. Then he had just picked the first name that came to mind. He could always pretend he had gotten it wrong when he found out an actual name.

It was foolproof.
Last Visitors

Apr 17 2018, 09:54 PM

Apr 10 2018, 08:57 AM

Mar 25 2018, 02:39 PM

No comments posted.
Add Comment


skinned by missy at atf, caution, & shine.
cfs by black and code script by nicole.