Blackstar doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
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Character Quote: Face the Music
GIF 250px width x 150px height: https://78.media.tumblr.com/f5a18be863c35c87bda57d24e1b6ea8f/tumblr_p53gnyFJOv1wtlv6to2_500.gif
Joined: 4-March 18
Last Seen: Jul 20 2018, 10:44 PM
Local Time: Jul 22 2018, 11:27 AM
26 posts (0.2 per day)
( 0.17% of total forum posts )
Jul 9 2018, 11:14 AM
Since superhero did not seem like a good longterm plan if he wanted to actually live to see twenty-one Zeke had decided it was probably time to go back to what was supposed to be Plan A: International Glam Rock sensation. He wasn't going to up and leave the X-Men (he still needed that place to stay and food to eat), but seeing as the alien invasion was successfully deterred and he was still alive it was time to get to business.
A band would probably be a good place to start, but failing that he had gotten himself a few solo gigs at various bars and coffee houses and he was good to go.
The bar he was playing at that Friday was one of those trendy types that he probably wouldn't have chosen on his own, but hey a job was a job. He had mentioned the day offhandedly to a few of the others around the school, but had set out by himself taking the subway to get to his destination. He had yet to replace his fabulous sparkly suit, which sort of felt like a bad omen to him. At least he had bright red Converse that absolutely did not match the rest of his outfit.
It wasn't a particularly enthusiastic crowd, but he soldiered through the set, some of his own songs played acoustically, a few covers of 80's bands, a few requests. As he began to wrap it up he launched into his own song, the one he had heard in his head during the vision the Brood Queen had given him. As clear as it had been in the vision it had disappeared when he sat down to try to play it, he was right back at the version he had played at that disastrous concert when his power manifested and once again as his finger picked out the familiar notes and he glared at the crowd who was now chattering over his song he let the nagging images go, painting the room with mythical creatures: a much smaller version of the dragon clashing with a knight, a princess with a blurred face in the background.
The reaction was instantaneous, people suddenly paying attention, conversation ceasing. The illusions disappeared on the last note and he bowed theatrically. "Thank you and good night! Don't forget to follow me on Youtube."
The yuppies just stared at him as he left, meanwhile a group in the back let out a chorus of boos and hisses, one going so far as to shout, "He's the type Reverand Stryker warned us about!" The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Zeke ignored it, shoving his guitar back into its case and dumping the pitiful contents of his tip jar into his pockets.
The trio in the corner watched him go, then rose and followed him out. None of them were truly affiliated with Styker or his Purifiers, they all had merely heard his recent speech and decided it was the perfect excuse for their prejudice against mutants and here one had fallen right into their lap. Better yet this one was far less intimidating than others they had seen on the streets: lizards who walked upright like men, people who glittered with electricity or energy, the list of abominations was endless.
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Zeke started walking back towards the subway station, looking for somewhere to eat before he went back and not paying any attention to his surroundings or the sound of footsteps behind him.
At least not until someone grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him around.
His loss of balance saved him from the sucker punch as he fell, dragging the attacker down with him.
"Mutant freak," a second guy went to kick him when he was down and Zeke scrambled to get loose.
'Shit, shit, shit!'
Zeke managed to regain his footing and get a few shots of his own in, but three much bigger people against one wasn't much of a fight, especially when one pulled a knife and sunk it into Zeke's left shoulder. He went to the ground again and reached for his powers. A snarling rottweiler appeared out of an alley snarling at the trio.
"Your tricks can't deceive us devil!"
With a last kick they fled the scene, leaving Zeke facedown on the pavement blood running out of his shoulder, blearily stringing curses together in his mind.
May 5 2018, 03:05 PM
Apparently they had not been kidding about the aliens. Or the end of the world. Or any of it. Except it was so much worse than Zeke could have imagined.
He had thought a school full of mutants was a perfect place to crash. No one would care that he could do freaky illusion shit, because other people did way weirder stuff. They would probably be able to help him figure out what exactly he could do. No one would beat him up (which had been fake since training sessions, but at least most of them didn't mean it in an aggressive way, other than maybe the scary clawed midget). He'd have a bed and food.
And then the place went and got blown up right out from under his feet. Literally. If Kitty hadn't gotten that force field up he'd have been blown into a million little Zeke pieces.
It was probably time to call it good and get the hell out of there, except the Brood were coming no matter what and since they already knew who he was wandering off seemed like a less than good idea. If he stuck around then at least he would have all these people to
fight with. They seemed like they had a plan. Sort of. If they had done another meeting he had missed it, but since he had rolled into this swanky hotel in pajama pants and no shoes he figured that was the least of his problems right now. The X-Men could do whatever they wanted, he was going to keep his head down and try not to die.
Not that he had a whole lot of options. Everything he owned was gone. Clothes. CDs. His instruments. His laptop. Thank God he had most of the music he was working on in a cloud along with the pictures that really mattered, but the things? Gone. All of them.
Like his books.
He had retrieved all that was left which was pathetic: part of the front cover of Fellowship, the back cover of Return of the King, a few bits of pages, and a whole lot of dust.
That was the really unforgivable thing. Aliens wanted to screw up the world and had tried to kill him, but coming to the school had gotten his books destroyed
Which was how he found himself, still in his pajama pants with a bathrobe from the hotel since he couldn't afford any of the clothes anywhere around and anyway didn't have a freaking wallet anymore, banging on Backup
When it opened he didn't wait to see if it was Kerr or someone else, just held up the little zip bag of dust and the pieces of paper he had. "I know we all totally almost just DIED but if you're okay I need a huge favor and for you to fix my book. You can do that right? I mean you backed those bitches out of existence so like, you can fix this too, right? Because my mom is turning over in her grave that her books are destroyed and I really, really need them to not be in pieces because-"
he just stopped talking then because if he kept going he'd probably just fall flat to the ground on his face and start wailing ugly tears which would be less than impressive.
Who was he kidding? He was probably going to do that anyway. At leas the carpets looked hella plush.
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.Magma
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.