Post by Nuxxon on Aug 5, 2018 2:36:33 GMT
Drip, drip, drip. Slowly but surely the heavy sounds of water smashing into the old, wooden cupboards reached the small appartment on the bottom floor of the complex. With three quick blinks, Max' eyes had readjusted back to the shitty reality that he had found himself in the previous day, a phenomena he appreciated seeing how it meant he was still alive. As his eyes performed this re-evaluation of his surroundings, sounds began to creep back onto his understanding again, and before he knew it he could grasp and hear every sound that there was in his rundown living space.
And that's when he heard it, the clock ringing. Surely he would get a notice for having snoozed it enough times that the almost always high junkies living upstairs would complain, even if they had a lot more hanging onto them than he had. An aspiring soon to be school kid versus a few junkies hitting up in their just as shitty housing, and all he had to do was have a clock ringing for a few minutes too much for them to complain. It irritated him more than it should have, it was just seemingly too much extra work that had no backing.
Raising himself from his bed, his eyes quickly caught site of his red trenchcoat hanging there from his rusty hook situated inside of the hall towards the outside world. That was when it hit him, he quickly threw his quilt across the room and onto the floor, flying across the stone flooring as he grabbed everything he needed before escaping the shithole that was his safespace.
Jumping between people that had situated themselves inside of the hallways of the rundown appartment complex as he thought about what his first line would be, the man was immediately noticed but thrown away in the homeless' minds as their minds drifted away from them. He didn't have enough time to help anyone of them, 'nor assist them with anything either way and thus he thought that the best thing to do was simply to floor it, Max was late anyway, why delay his arrival even further?
Throwing himself out on the streets, he attempted his best at avoiding traffic of both people and machine kinds as he flung through the crowds of people at a time that was out at nine in the morning. Was this really what was going to happen? Was he going to miss his first day of this university and the road to becoming a fully fledged hero even before having done anything other than living in a shitty complex outside of the main hub of town? Dread filled his eyes that were hidden behind his circular, slick glasses as the sun as if baked him inside of his trenchcoat suit, this combined with his running through town quickly made him sweaty, something that he feared for more often than not.
He didn't want to accidently use his quirk like he had done in the past, especially not with such amounts of sweat to empower his explosions even further. It simply wasn't an option, not when there were this many civilians around him. His collateral damage potential was simply too strong, and thus he thought for himself that he couldn't simply beam through town with the help of his quirk, it would simply boast too much of a threat as well as make himself a criminal in the eyes of justice.
Not something ideal, so to speak.
And then, time as if stopped, his loyal and justice-filled heart pumped faster as he heard nothing else than a cry for help. With a sudden stop to his sprint, he listened in closer, it was as if no one else heard it as they chose to keep walking at their normal paces through the busy streets of New York. Then he heard it again, everything distorted away from him once again as he focused down onto the female voice that ringed throughout his ears.
"Someone.. help me..." the voice called out, echoing throughout his heads as the words became blurrier and blurrier, as if the person in question calling out these things was fading away from existence itself. As he started running towards the voice, it soon became clear that it eminated from an alleyway inside of an alleyway, gang territory none the less. It was probably a victim of either human trafficking or something like rape, but he wouldn't be too quick on calling that out before he sees the scene.
Running faster than he ever thought that he could through the dark alleys that the sun still hadn't reached this early in the morning, the cold- almost shivering air was making itself a lot more known to him, seeing how he finally stood still, the man could feel his body catching up, heating him up whilst feeling the shivering air of the outside world again. Running to the end of the alley, he realized that the voice was behind a tattered, brick wall with an iron door.
The wall was relatively weak and even had certain places in it's alignment that looked like a truly weak construction. Thanks to his built up sweat from before, he was all ready to try and bust down this thing in a matter of seconds. Placing both of his palms at the weakest point of the construction, the man quickly ignited his sweat from his palms, erupting it in a series of explosions as he dug in with his hands at the same time to try and push away any and all fallout that could fall onto the victim(s), shooting it out onto the old, cracked concrete road behind him.
"Don't worry, you're safe now." the man called out, as if to instill some sort of hope into their hearts. It's funny how the line that he thought about to be his first one whenever he became a real hero actually got made and flung out by instict just mere seconds before his first real heroic deed. Thinking about it for a fast second before he adjusted his eyes to the ever terrifying darkness of the insides of the damp chamber that he had found himself in.
Looking all over the room, the mans eyes started adjusting to be able to see within the darkness, to comprehend it and to try to understand the structure within. He needed to be able to navigate this thing after all. Within moments of his arrival inside of the damp, putrid-smelling compartment, a silent sobbing could be heard. As he followed the trail towards the woman, his heart sunk further and further, hearing her cries for help and knowing that he might have been too late, a thought that kept haunting him as he trailed along inside of the room, hoping that he wasn't.
Then he saw her, she was tiny and malnourished, red cheeks and flakey areas around her eyes. She looked hurt not only physically, but mentally. As he approached her slowly and as he started to show that he wasn't the bad guy in all of this, he within seconds crouched in front of her and grabbed her, slowly starting his march out of that place. He needed to contact the police and an ambulance as fast as he could, this sort of thing shouldn't be just thrown away in the seemingly endless stream of society nowadays, how come no one saved her earlier?!
When he arrived outside he called in both the cops to investigate the area and to log her appearance, name and the rest of her personal details whilst the ambulance was going to take care of her both irritated skin and hopefully her mentally and physically straining situation in time. Of course Maxwell was questioned and even praised, he did something no one else did which was to actually go out of his way and reach out his hand to this woman, rescuing her from her bonds.
Luckily he was the target of her telepathy call for help, a valiant effort of the young girls last powers within her which really paid off when it was directed at the right man. After all of this, he decided on calling in sick and getting his first day to be tomorrow instead, he had a lot to reflect over and think about after all but before that someone interviewed him for some small, filler text in some newspaper that was just starting to kick off. It made him happy alright, but because of all of this emotional stress that was just put on his shoulders, he wasn't very happy for the rest of the day. It made him think about his morals, his decisionmaking and if he truly was the right man to become a hero. Would he really be able to carry this thing out?
Word count : 1478
Intermediate objective : Rescue.
And that's when he heard it, the clock ringing. Surely he would get a notice for having snoozed it enough times that the almost always high junkies living upstairs would complain, even if they had a lot more hanging onto them than he had. An aspiring soon to be school kid versus a few junkies hitting up in their just as shitty housing, and all he had to do was have a clock ringing for a few minutes too much for them to complain. It irritated him more than it should have, it was just seemingly too much extra work that had no backing.
Raising himself from his bed, his eyes quickly caught site of his red trenchcoat hanging there from his rusty hook situated inside of the hall towards the outside world. That was when it hit him, he quickly threw his quilt across the room and onto the floor, flying across the stone flooring as he grabbed everything he needed before escaping the shithole that was his safespace.
Jumping between people that had situated themselves inside of the hallways of the rundown appartment complex as he thought about what his first line would be, the man was immediately noticed but thrown away in the homeless' minds as their minds drifted away from them. He didn't have enough time to help anyone of them, 'nor assist them with anything either way and thus he thought that the best thing to do was simply to floor it, Max was late anyway, why delay his arrival even further?
Throwing himself out on the streets, he attempted his best at avoiding traffic of both people and machine kinds as he flung through the crowds of people at a time that was out at nine in the morning. Was this really what was going to happen? Was he going to miss his first day of this university and the road to becoming a fully fledged hero even before having done anything other than living in a shitty complex outside of the main hub of town? Dread filled his eyes that were hidden behind his circular, slick glasses as the sun as if baked him inside of his trenchcoat suit, this combined with his running through town quickly made him sweaty, something that he feared for more often than not.
He didn't want to accidently use his quirk like he had done in the past, especially not with such amounts of sweat to empower his explosions even further. It simply wasn't an option, not when there were this many civilians around him. His collateral damage potential was simply too strong, and thus he thought for himself that he couldn't simply beam through town with the help of his quirk, it would simply boast too much of a threat as well as make himself a criminal in the eyes of justice.
Not something ideal, so to speak.
And then, time as if stopped, his loyal and justice-filled heart pumped faster as he heard nothing else than a cry for help. With a sudden stop to his sprint, he listened in closer, it was as if no one else heard it as they chose to keep walking at their normal paces through the busy streets of New York. Then he heard it again, everything distorted away from him once again as he focused down onto the female voice that ringed throughout his ears.
"Someone.. help me..." the voice called out, echoing throughout his heads as the words became blurrier and blurrier, as if the person in question calling out these things was fading away from existence itself. As he started running towards the voice, it soon became clear that it eminated from an alleyway inside of an alleyway, gang territory none the less. It was probably a victim of either human trafficking or something like rape, but he wouldn't be too quick on calling that out before he sees the scene.
Running faster than he ever thought that he could through the dark alleys that the sun still hadn't reached this early in the morning, the cold- almost shivering air was making itself a lot more known to him, seeing how he finally stood still, the man could feel his body catching up, heating him up whilst feeling the shivering air of the outside world again. Running to the end of the alley, he realized that the voice was behind a tattered, brick wall with an iron door.
The wall was relatively weak and even had certain places in it's alignment that looked like a truly weak construction. Thanks to his built up sweat from before, he was all ready to try and bust down this thing in a matter of seconds. Placing both of his palms at the weakest point of the construction, the man quickly ignited his sweat from his palms, erupting it in a series of explosions as he dug in with his hands at the same time to try and push away any and all fallout that could fall onto the victim(s), shooting it out onto the old, cracked concrete road behind him.
"Don't worry, you're safe now." the man called out, as if to instill some sort of hope into their hearts. It's funny how the line that he thought about to be his first one whenever he became a real hero actually got made and flung out by instict just mere seconds before his first real heroic deed. Thinking about it for a fast second before he adjusted his eyes to the ever terrifying darkness of the insides of the damp chamber that he had found himself in.
Looking all over the room, the mans eyes started adjusting to be able to see within the darkness, to comprehend it and to try to understand the structure within. He needed to be able to navigate this thing after all. Within moments of his arrival inside of the damp, putrid-smelling compartment, a silent sobbing could be heard. As he followed the trail towards the woman, his heart sunk further and further, hearing her cries for help and knowing that he might have been too late, a thought that kept haunting him as he trailed along inside of the room, hoping that he wasn't.
Then he saw her, she was tiny and malnourished, red cheeks and flakey areas around her eyes. She looked hurt not only physically, but mentally. As he approached her slowly and as he started to show that he wasn't the bad guy in all of this, he within seconds crouched in front of her and grabbed her, slowly starting his march out of that place. He needed to contact the police and an ambulance as fast as he could, this sort of thing shouldn't be just thrown away in the seemingly endless stream of society nowadays, how come no one saved her earlier?!
When he arrived outside he called in both the cops to investigate the area and to log her appearance, name and the rest of her personal details whilst the ambulance was going to take care of her both irritated skin and hopefully her mentally and physically straining situation in time. Of course Maxwell was questioned and even praised, he did something no one else did which was to actually go out of his way and reach out his hand to this woman, rescuing her from her bonds.
Luckily he was the target of her telepathy call for help, a valiant effort of the young girls last powers within her which really paid off when it was directed at the right man. After all of this, he decided on calling in sick and getting his first day to be tomorrow instead, he had a lot to reflect over and think about after all but before that someone interviewed him for some small, filler text in some newspaper that was just starting to kick off. It made him happy alright, but because of all of this emotional stress that was just put on his shoulders, he wasn't very happy for the rest of the day. It made him think about his morals, his decisionmaking and if he truly was the right man to become a hero. Would he really be able to carry this thing out?
Word count : 1478
Intermediate objective : Rescue.
