Post by Freddy Hunter on Sept 11, 2008 11:11:30 GMT
Name:
Thomas Frederick Hunter
Also known as Freddy
Codename:
On the lookout for one
Age: 15
Mutation:
Freddy, simply put, generates force fields. He creates them with his mind, and as he imagines the field, he determines how strong it is and what shape it will take, as well as the position it will take. Right now, he can only make flat surfaces and slightly curved ones, and with great concentration he would be able to make a very rough sphere. The spheres are not hollow, however, and act more as solid balls floating or moving in mid-air than as containers. When he creates a field, Freddy can give it an initial velocity. Once created, the field will move in the given direction and at the given speed until it dissolves or collides with an obstacle which it cannot move. The strength of the field, as well as the speed are limited by Freddy’s ability, and as he and the mutation grow, so will the maximums. In order to make a field that moves in this fashion, Freddy himself needs to move at least a slight bit, to better imagine the movement of the field. For example, if he were to create a fist sized spherical field moving forwards, he would slam his fist into the air. He might lose this need for a focus later on. He can also create fields which are initially static. They would just appear where he wants them to and stay there until he moves them with his mind. He can move them by concentrating on it, and this movement is three dimensional, meaning he can rotate the field any which way. The difference between initially moving fields and him moving static fields is that Freddy can not stop or alter the movement of the fields that are initially in motion. The only way to stop them is to deliberately dissolve them. Static fields are much easier to move about, but this movement will never reach the speed maximums of the moving fields. Later on, he might be able to give a moving field a move complex trajectory by adding a certain rotation. All this would do is make the field move in a circle. It is doubtful that a moving field would ever be able to zigzag or take sudden turns.
The distance at which Freddy can keep fields up is also limited by the development of his power, and right now sits at 10 meters. If a field moves beyond his maximum range, it immediately dissolves. The strength of the field, or in other words how much force is needed to penetrate it, is also variable, but Freddy does not have exact control over this aspect, and has a tendency to miss even the ballpark of his intended strength. For the sake of example, if he wanted to create a field which would be able to hold a 5lb weight, but let through anything heavier, what he would really create could hold up to 20lbs or only up to three just as well as be what he wants. With practice, his strength control will increase.
The duration of any field, if left unattended, is three minutes or until it comes out of his range, and if he concentrates on the field, Freddy can extend the duration to up to six minutes. He can also deliberately dissolve any field at any given time. As with many other aspects of his mutation, the duration also might increase as his power grows.
Freddy can create a special force field which surrounds him, and only him, completely, and moves as he moves. This field always is at maximum strength, and is about 12cm thick. It is a personal shield, and Freddy can raise it at will, but also instinctively whenever he feels frightened or in danger, so it can go up at inconvenient times. This field cannot extend onto other objects, but it might interact with other fields he creates.
While not capable of enveloping anything in fields similar to this one, Freddy might learn how to in the future. This means that he might be able to create a field around a chair or a pencil that will fit exactly to the shape, allowing him to move the object around with much more accuracy than with spheres and flat fields. He is very close to discovering how to make hollow spherical fields, for the purpose of moving objects around in them, and works diligently on that discovery. The strength maximum of his fields cannot be accurately determined, but right now it lies somewhere in the ballpark of thick wood, meaning that it takes more than just a powerful blow of the fist to take a maximum strength field down. Being hit by a maximum strength field might produce an effect similar to that of being hit by a baseball with a very powerful batter wielding it. In the case of moving fields, the greater the speed is, the more punch the field will pack. Freddy will never be able to envelop people into fields like his, and he will not be able to change the shape of already generated fields. He can still put people into spherical and other such fields, however.
The number of fields he can keep up at any given time is three at the moment, and might increase with time’s passage. Each field can have a different strength, and all three can be at maximum strength. Out of these three fields, any number may be static or moving, although moving fields often have a short duration, due to the fact that they quickly move out of Freddy’s range.
Physical Description:
Standing proudly at his five feet and nine inches, Freddy does not pass up opportunities to show off the 170lbs of muscle he’d created as years of practice did their thing. He sticks to his workout plan as if his life would end otherwise, which allows him to eat the insane amounts of candy that he eats. His face is devoid of any blemishes or pimples, with little thanks to the chocolate. If one were to look at his bathroom, one would find quite a collection of lotions and creams used for the purpose of having the clear face. Long muscular legs, long muscular arms, a six pack to be very proud of, Freddy does indeed take care of himself. His face does not lag behind, with high cheekbones and taught skin devoid of even the slightest hint of baby fat, or any other fat for that matter. He has not yet started shaving, but as soon as the first hairs appear, Freddy will undoubtedly shave them away. His eyes are big and black, and one can always see the boy’s emotions in them. Medium long jet black hair cascades down to his neck, thick and smooth, and impossible to disentangle. And the last piece to the puzzle—two rows of pearly whites hidden behind full lips.
Freddy wears whatever is comfortable, not caring whether it belongs to a certain stereotype or not. He does know how choose his clothes depending on the occasions, even though he prefers to stay away from suits, trousers, and other more formal wear. Jeans and a T-shirt are the standard, though the jeans might be swapped for shorts in the summer, and the T-shirt for a sweatshirt in the winter.
As far as jewelry is concerned, Freddy wears a “simple” earring on his left ear—a smooth ring made of white gold, and that is about it. He stays away from necklaces, bracelets, and piercings on other parts of his body, and his fear of needles prevents him from getting any tattoos.
Personality:
Freddy is the guy you see in the center of a group, talking loudly and making those around him laugh along. He likes to be out there, doing all the neat stuff that he can come up with, most of which ends up being rather stupid (but nonetheless fun). He will include anyone into any group, with what seems to be a complete inability to pay attention to whether that person prefers to be a hermit or not. He wants to have fun, but only if everyone else is, as well.
It’s hard to say no to him, mostly due to the assuming attitude with which he approaches all situations, deciding early in the conversation that he’s right and that’s that. He is so stubborn that trying to talk him out of the stupid ideas he comes up with can sometimes be harder than persuading a wall that it is more profitable for it to move five feet to the right.
Though arrogant and spoiled, used to having everything served on a silver platter, Freddy somehow manages to be likeable at all times. Other than anything physical, his talents are very limited, namely sweet talking and looking good. This is not to say he is ignorant or dumb, however. It merely means that he took the easier work load and was happy with a 3.0 average. He makes up for the lack of intellectual talents through diligence and enthusiasm.
Freddy is a very impulsive person. Stopping to think about whatever it is that just crossed his mind is very hard, so he doesn’t bother with such actions. He immerses himself into anything readily, without taking so much as a moment to ready himself for it. The boy acts on his ideas, and he does have quite a few crazy ones. Telling him that something is dangerous only makes it more alluring.
His tastes change all the time, and it is hard for anyone to keep up with them, except for Freddy himself.
Freddy is not easy to get angry, but once he does, he attacks without holding back. For this, there are no grays—he’s either mad or not. When he is mad, it is quite obvious, and people usually decide not to pick a fight on their own. What is the main problem is that Freddy lets his anger out on the first person there, so it frequently ends up being a friend whom he really didn’t want to insult or attack.
Background:
Freddy was born on September 7, 1993, in New York. His parents, John and Martha, were thrilled to finally have child after a number of attempts, and were quick to spoil him. John was the one to buy everything his son even hinted he wanted, and Martha did not find it a bother to cook whatever and whenever her son pleased. The one request that was ever made of Freddy in his family was that he be a football player in high school, just like his father.
John was the stereotypical successful father, going to work from eight to four, coming home to relax at dinner, read a newspaper, and then talk a bit to his family. He slept until nine in the morning on Saturdays and Sundays, had breakfast which his wife would cook to her son’s desires, and then would go about the house, either working on improvements, or just sitting down and relaxing with the TV. Saturday nights were poker nights, and Sunday afternoons were reserved for whatever sports he could find. He was quick to produce money whenever Freddy would ask, and frequently even when he wouldn’t. All in all, John was merely the less economical of the many classic fathers all throughout the country.
Freddy’s mother, Martha, had once had a promising career, but that was quickly forgotten as her son finally came into the picture. She became a housewife, and was quite happy to clean up after her sloppy son, even the hundreds of times she should not have. Freddy had become used to exploiting this to the maximum, and was quick to start asking for breakfast in bed, lunch in front of the TV, and dinners specially designed to fit his simple tastes. Meat and potatoes were on the menu most of the time, then, and the cabinets around the kitchen were always filled with candy, mostly so chocolate bars of various kinds and gummy bears. Martha would come up into Freddy’s room whenever he had company and ask them what they wanted to eat, not really caring if it was something as simple as popcorn, or as bothersome as home-made French fries. She was all too happy to please her only son, her precious little baby.
Big room, lots of toys, comics, and later on gadgets, and a private chef of his own, it does not take much to see how spoiled Freddy would become, and the arrogance was quick to follow. In school, the boy was always the one who was bragging about this or that, all in that well known, condescending tone of voice. This drove many of his friends away from him, and there was a period of a few months in fifth grade when Freddy was without any friends to call over or play around with. The realization that he probably should not act so high and mighty dawned, and he tried changing. Just as diligently as he worked on his homework, trying to pull out a B for the end of the semester, and even more so, Freddy set to eliminating the arrogance.
He never quite succeeded, but what he did manage to do was turn it into an ongoing half-joke. Now, whenever he acts high and mighty, he does so in excess, making it a joke and laughing along if anyone should choose to add more insulting comments which he didn’t originally have in mind.
Some friends returned, other new ones were drawn to his booming personality. Soon enough, he began sharing with those around him all the cool things he had so far used only by himself. Freddy became aware of the fact that he could actually find at least one thing in common with everyone around him, and then use it to endear those people to his other friends.
At home, things stayed pretty much the same. Dad bought, mom cooked, Freddy didn’t listen. This was the main reason that most of his father’s rather prejudiced views did not rub off on the son. Namely, John blamed the blacks for high criminal rates, the Jewish for even the slightest increase in the price of anything, he considered Europeans overly arrogant, held the gays personally responsible for developing AIDS, and considered mutants a plague set to destroy mankind. Every night, there was bound to be an argument about this boy in Freddy’s math class, or that girl in his English class, and so on.
The years rolled on, and Freddy came to high school. He tried out for the football team, only partially because of his own will to do so. His father’s insistence was too strong not to oblige that one time. Having been on his middle school’s football team, one of the better ones in the state, as well as having exercised daily purely out of habit, Freddy got in without a problem. Adapting to the high school lifestyle was as easy as can only be desired. Fitting into the popular kids’ group immediately, he made new friends at an astounding pace, and soon enough all the team captains would hang out at the Hunter residence, a different girl would be in the boy’s room every Friday, and he’d go out to a different party every Saturday. It didn’t matter—the father was ecstatic about his son’s acceptance to the football team, and later on with all the successes he brought to the team, and the mother never did mind much anyway. The only thing they were concerned about were the girls, but they quickly found out that their son was clear-headed enough not to partake in anything above kissing, and a certain healthy dose of touching. The finding out makes for an awkward story of its own, and one that Freddy tells to people as a joke.
Finishing freshman year with a 3.0 average that satisfied him, Freddy was ready and willing for the next year. The summer was too uneventful and hidden under the shadow of expectation to mention, and so September came once more. Of course, at the end of homecoming week, there was going to be a football game, something the whole school had been hyped about, eager to start off the year with a good victory.
The game started, and it went on and on and on, and the opponents seemed to constantly tail only a hair away from Freddy’s school’s score. In the last quarter, Freddy got the ball and started running for the goal. He saw the opposing players run at him, but he was too fast for most of them. One, however, was coming up right in front of him, with others preparing to come in from the sides. Increasing his speed, Freddy bowed his head and hugged the ball closer to his chest, deciding to go for a head-on collision with the other kid. In the first couple of seconds, he kept trying to imagine himself a moving wall, a battering ram that would send the other flying.
He felt a resistance in the air as he ran for the next few seconds, and then stopped cold when he heard the scream.
Opening his eyes, Freddy saw the kid whom he’d been ready to hit flying off in the direction in which he was running. Well, the kid was not flying, per se, but he was thrown back some thirty feet, something Freddy knew was impossible. Commotion, yelling, panic, accusations, it all swarmed in within the next three minutes, and all he remembered thereafter was being ushered into the car and driven home, all the while trying to find peace between the opinion that something really weird happened that was not his fault, and the one claiming that it was, indeed, his fault.
A couple of days passed, and Freddy found himself the subject of stares and points in school, avoided by those he thought to be friends, save for a few who really did prove their worth. By the end of the week, what had been a social paradise had turned into an impossible effort to hide from stares, pointing fingers, insults, names, and other such pleasantries. Saturday came, and he got a letter from the Xavier Institute. On Sunday, he talked long and hard with his parents, all the while unable to make eye contact with his father, and not for lack of trying. His mother said it would be best if he went to this Xavier place to help him get through school in the “most normal way possible,” while his father insisted on it, claiming that he wanted no mutants tainting his neighborhood.
On Monday morning, the old family car drove off, leaving Freddy and a suitcase in front of the gates of the Institute, still trying to catch up with his life.
Current Affiliation
Xavier Institute Student / Faculty
Sample:
Refer to Danny or Sherridan posts, please? I’ll get a post up sometime soon.
Thomas Frederick Hunter
Also known as Freddy
Codename:
On the lookout for one
Age: 15
Mutation:
Freddy, simply put, generates force fields. He creates them with his mind, and as he imagines the field, he determines how strong it is and what shape it will take, as well as the position it will take. Right now, he can only make flat surfaces and slightly curved ones, and with great concentration he would be able to make a very rough sphere. The spheres are not hollow, however, and act more as solid balls floating or moving in mid-air than as containers. When he creates a field, Freddy can give it an initial velocity. Once created, the field will move in the given direction and at the given speed until it dissolves or collides with an obstacle which it cannot move. The strength of the field, as well as the speed are limited by Freddy’s ability, and as he and the mutation grow, so will the maximums. In order to make a field that moves in this fashion, Freddy himself needs to move at least a slight bit, to better imagine the movement of the field. For example, if he were to create a fist sized spherical field moving forwards, he would slam his fist into the air. He might lose this need for a focus later on. He can also create fields which are initially static. They would just appear where he wants them to and stay there until he moves them with his mind. He can move them by concentrating on it, and this movement is three dimensional, meaning he can rotate the field any which way. The difference between initially moving fields and him moving static fields is that Freddy can not stop or alter the movement of the fields that are initially in motion. The only way to stop them is to deliberately dissolve them. Static fields are much easier to move about, but this movement will never reach the speed maximums of the moving fields. Later on, he might be able to give a moving field a move complex trajectory by adding a certain rotation. All this would do is make the field move in a circle. It is doubtful that a moving field would ever be able to zigzag or take sudden turns.
The distance at which Freddy can keep fields up is also limited by the development of his power, and right now sits at 10 meters. If a field moves beyond his maximum range, it immediately dissolves. The strength of the field, or in other words how much force is needed to penetrate it, is also variable, but Freddy does not have exact control over this aspect, and has a tendency to miss even the ballpark of his intended strength. For the sake of example, if he wanted to create a field which would be able to hold a 5lb weight, but let through anything heavier, what he would really create could hold up to 20lbs or only up to three just as well as be what he wants. With practice, his strength control will increase.
The duration of any field, if left unattended, is three minutes or until it comes out of his range, and if he concentrates on the field, Freddy can extend the duration to up to six minutes. He can also deliberately dissolve any field at any given time. As with many other aspects of his mutation, the duration also might increase as his power grows.
Freddy can create a special force field which surrounds him, and only him, completely, and moves as he moves. This field always is at maximum strength, and is about 12cm thick. It is a personal shield, and Freddy can raise it at will, but also instinctively whenever he feels frightened or in danger, so it can go up at inconvenient times. This field cannot extend onto other objects, but it might interact with other fields he creates.
While not capable of enveloping anything in fields similar to this one, Freddy might learn how to in the future. This means that he might be able to create a field around a chair or a pencil that will fit exactly to the shape, allowing him to move the object around with much more accuracy than with spheres and flat fields. He is very close to discovering how to make hollow spherical fields, for the purpose of moving objects around in them, and works diligently on that discovery. The strength maximum of his fields cannot be accurately determined, but right now it lies somewhere in the ballpark of thick wood, meaning that it takes more than just a powerful blow of the fist to take a maximum strength field down. Being hit by a maximum strength field might produce an effect similar to that of being hit by a baseball with a very powerful batter wielding it. In the case of moving fields, the greater the speed is, the more punch the field will pack. Freddy will never be able to envelop people into fields like his, and he will not be able to change the shape of already generated fields. He can still put people into spherical and other such fields, however.
The number of fields he can keep up at any given time is three at the moment, and might increase with time’s passage. Each field can have a different strength, and all three can be at maximum strength. Out of these three fields, any number may be static or moving, although moving fields often have a short duration, due to the fact that they quickly move out of Freddy’s range.
Physical Description:
Standing proudly at his five feet and nine inches, Freddy does not pass up opportunities to show off the 170lbs of muscle he’d created as years of practice did their thing. He sticks to his workout plan as if his life would end otherwise, which allows him to eat the insane amounts of candy that he eats. His face is devoid of any blemishes or pimples, with little thanks to the chocolate. If one were to look at his bathroom, one would find quite a collection of lotions and creams used for the purpose of having the clear face. Long muscular legs, long muscular arms, a six pack to be very proud of, Freddy does indeed take care of himself. His face does not lag behind, with high cheekbones and taught skin devoid of even the slightest hint of baby fat, or any other fat for that matter. He has not yet started shaving, but as soon as the first hairs appear, Freddy will undoubtedly shave them away. His eyes are big and black, and one can always see the boy’s emotions in them. Medium long jet black hair cascades down to his neck, thick and smooth, and impossible to disentangle. And the last piece to the puzzle—two rows of pearly whites hidden behind full lips.
Freddy wears whatever is comfortable, not caring whether it belongs to a certain stereotype or not. He does know how choose his clothes depending on the occasions, even though he prefers to stay away from suits, trousers, and other more formal wear. Jeans and a T-shirt are the standard, though the jeans might be swapped for shorts in the summer, and the T-shirt for a sweatshirt in the winter.
As far as jewelry is concerned, Freddy wears a “simple” earring on his left ear—a smooth ring made of white gold, and that is about it. He stays away from necklaces, bracelets, and piercings on other parts of his body, and his fear of needles prevents him from getting any tattoos.
Personality:
Freddy is the guy you see in the center of a group, talking loudly and making those around him laugh along. He likes to be out there, doing all the neat stuff that he can come up with, most of which ends up being rather stupid (but nonetheless fun). He will include anyone into any group, with what seems to be a complete inability to pay attention to whether that person prefers to be a hermit or not. He wants to have fun, but only if everyone else is, as well.
It’s hard to say no to him, mostly due to the assuming attitude with which he approaches all situations, deciding early in the conversation that he’s right and that’s that. He is so stubborn that trying to talk him out of the stupid ideas he comes up with can sometimes be harder than persuading a wall that it is more profitable for it to move five feet to the right.
Though arrogant and spoiled, used to having everything served on a silver platter, Freddy somehow manages to be likeable at all times. Other than anything physical, his talents are very limited, namely sweet talking and looking good. This is not to say he is ignorant or dumb, however. It merely means that he took the easier work load and was happy with a 3.0 average. He makes up for the lack of intellectual talents through diligence and enthusiasm.
Freddy is a very impulsive person. Stopping to think about whatever it is that just crossed his mind is very hard, so he doesn’t bother with such actions. He immerses himself into anything readily, without taking so much as a moment to ready himself for it. The boy acts on his ideas, and he does have quite a few crazy ones. Telling him that something is dangerous only makes it more alluring.
His tastes change all the time, and it is hard for anyone to keep up with them, except for Freddy himself.
Freddy is not easy to get angry, but once he does, he attacks without holding back. For this, there are no grays—he’s either mad or not. When he is mad, it is quite obvious, and people usually decide not to pick a fight on their own. What is the main problem is that Freddy lets his anger out on the first person there, so it frequently ends up being a friend whom he really didn’t want to insult or attack.
Background:
Freddy was born on September 7, 1993, in New York. His parents, John and Martha, were thrilled to finally have child after a number of attempts, and were quick to spoil him. John was the one to buy everything his son even hinted he wanted, and Martha did not find it a bother to cook whatever and whenever her son pleased. The one request that was ever made of Freddy in his family was that he be a football player in high school, just like his father.
John was the stereotypical successful father, going to work from eight to four, coming home to relax at dinner, read a newspaper, and then talk a bit to his family. He slept until nine in the morning on Saturdays and Sundays, had breakfast which his wife would cook to her son’s desires, and then would go about the house, either working on improvements, or just sitting down and relaxing with the TV. Saturday nights were poker nights, and Sunday afternoons were reserved for whatever sports he could find. He was quick to produce money whenever Freddy would ask, and frequently even when he wouldn’t. All in all, John was merely the less economical of the many classic fathers all throughout the country.
Freddy’s mother, Martha, had once had a promising career, but that was quickly forgotten as her son finally came into the picture. She became a housewife, and was quite happy to clean up after her sloppy son, even the hundreds of times she should not have. Freddy had become used to exploiting this to the maximum, and was quick to start asking for breakfast in bed, lunch in front of the TV, and dinners specially designed to fit his simple tastes. Meat and potatoes were on the menu most of the time, then, and the cabinets around the kitchen were always filled with candy, mostly so chocolate bars of various kinds and gummy bears. Martha would come up into Freddy’s room whenever he had company and ask them what they wanted to eat, not really caring if it was something as simple as popcorn, or as bothersome as home-made French fries. She was all too happy to please her only son, her precious little baby.
Big room, lots of toys, comics, and later on gadgets, and a private chef of his own, it does not take much to see how spoiled Freddy would become, and the arrogance was quick to follow. In school, the boy was always the one who was bragging about this or that, all in that well known, condescending tone of voice. This drove many of his friends away from him, and there was a period of a few months in fifth grade when Freddy was without any friends to call over or play around with. The realization that he probably should not act so high and mighty dawned, and he tried changing. Just as diligently as he worked on his homework, trying to pull out a B for the end of the semester, and even more so, Freddy set to eliminating the arrogance.
He never quite succeeded, but what he did manage to do was turn it into an ongoing half-joke. Now, whenever he acts high and mighty, he does so in excess, making it a joke and laughing along if anyone should choose to add more insulting comments which he didn’t originally have in mind.
Some friends returned, other new ones were drawn to his booming personality. Soon enough, he began sharing with those around him all the cool things he had so far used only by himself. Freddy became aware of the fact that he could actually find at least one thing in common with everyone around him, and then use it to endear those people to his other friends.
At home, things stayed pretty much the same. Dad bought, mom cooked, Freddy didn’t listen. This was the main reason that most of his father’s rather prejudiced views did not rub off on the son. Namely, John blamed the blacks for high criminal rates, the Jewish for even the slightest increase in the price of anything, he considered Europeans overly arrogant, held the gays personally responsible for developing AIDS, and considered mutants a plague set to destroy mankind. Every night, there was bound to be an argument about this boy in Freddy’s math class, or that girl in his English class, and so on.
The years rolled on, and Freddy came to high school. He tried out for the football team, only partially because of his own will to do so. His father’s insistence was too strong not to oblige that one time. Having been on his middle school’s football team, one of the better ones in the state, as well as having exercised daily purely out of habit, Freddy got in without a problem. Adapting to the high school lifestyle was as easy as can only be desired. Fitting into the popular kids’ group immediately, he made new friends at an astounding pace, and soon enough all the team captains would hang out at the Hunter residence, a different girl would be in the boy’s room every Friday, and he’d go out to a different party every Saturday. It didn’t matter—the father was ecstatic about his son’s acceptance to the football team, and later on with all the successes he brought to the team, and the mother never did mind much anyway. The only thing they were concerned about were the girls, but they quickly found out that their son was clear-headed enough not to partake in anything above kissing, and a certain healthy dose of touching. The finding out makes for an awkward story of its own, and one that Freddy tells to people as a joke.
Finishing freshman year with a 3.0 average that satisfied him, Freddy was ready and willing for the next year. The summer was too uneventful and hidden under the shadow of expectation to mention, and so September came once more. Of course, at the end of homecoming week, there was going to be a football game, something the whole school had been hyped about, eager to start off the year with a good victory.
The game started, and it went on and on and on, and the opponents seemed to constantly tail only a hair away from Freddy’s school’s score. In the last quarter, Freddy got the ball and started running for the goal. He saw the opposing players run at him, but he was too fast for most of them. One, however, was coming up right in front of him, with others preparing to come in from the sides. Increasing his speed, Freddy bowed his head and hugged the ball closer to his chest, deciding to go for a head-on collision with the other kid. In the first couple of seconds, he kept trying to imagine himself a moving wall, a battering ram that would send the other flying.
He felt a resistance in the air as he ran for the next few seconds, and then stopped cold when he heard the scream.
Opening his eyes, Freddy saw the kid whom he’d been ready to hit flying off in the direction in which he was running. Well, the kid was not flying, per se, but he was thrown back some thirty feet, something Freddy knew was impossible. Commotion, yelling, panic, accusations, it all swarmed in within the next three minutes, and all he remembered thereafter was being ushered into the car and driven home, all the while trying to find peace between the opinion that something really weird happened that was not his fault, and the one claiming that it was, indeed, his fault.
A couple of days passed, and Freddy found himself the subject of stares and points in school, avoided by those he thought to be friends, save for a few who really did prove their worth. By the end of the week, what had been a social paradise had turned into an impossible effort to hide from stares, pointing fingers, insults, names, and other such pleasantries. Saturday came, and he got a letter from the Xavier Institute. On Sunday, he talked long and hard with his parents, all the while unable to make eye contact with his father, and not for lack of trying. His mother said it would be best if he went to this Xavier place to help him get through school in the “most normal way possible,” while his father insisted on it, claiming that he wanted no mutants tainting his neighborhood.
On Monday morning, the old family car drove off, leaving Freddy and a suitcase in front of the gates of the Institute, still trying to catch up with his life.
Current Affiliation
Xavier Institute Student / Faculty
Sample:
Refer to Danny or Sherridan posts, please? I’ll get a post up sometime soon.
