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Isaac had found himself in yet another quarrel with one of his fellow studens while in class. She was wrong and he was right and somehow, he'd been the one getting thrown out of class for disturbance.
With his hands in his pocket, he sulked as he rounded a corner. He didn't see the woman before he felt the force against his chest. Blue eyes blinked in shock and for a second, his tongue was ready to share the annoyance he was feeling.
He stopped last second, blue eyes landing on a startled face he didn't recognize. Immediately his hand went out to help her up. He was a gentleman, after all.
"Not to worry, miss." He offered, a bright smile on his lips. "You alright?"
A pout formed on his lips; It seemed as if she'd given up so easily for someone so feisty. It was a shame, really. He'd started enjoying the banter.
Isaac's blue eyes focused on his companion for the night, lips pursing in amusement. "Not here." Though Isaac had felt very protective of his twin sister when he was younger, he'd come to realize that she was as capable of taking care of herself as anyone. Even against the Chevalier charms.
Isaac looked over at their bartender, then back at the blonde next to him. "Excuse me." He said. "The night is still young, after all." Returning the very same wicked smile Carter had offered to him, Isaac leaned over the bar.
He was almost disappointed in the way the girl so easily dismissed his joke. Almost. While he understood the humiliation of being rejected, she was, after all, the one who'd thrown herself so easily in their direction. Not only once, but twice.
Or was it three times? He couldn't remember, but it didn't really matter. The fact still remained.
Offering the bartender an apologetic smile, Isaac took another swig off of his drink, savoring the bitter taste. "I'm sure our kind host here would take no offense if you just apologized, hm?" He spread his arms at that; it was a reasonable request, no?
Turning his head to respond, he caught the wink. Immediately his eyes turned back to the bartender, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "You heard the boss." He offered.
He could feel the girl shuffle past him, an amused smile curling on his lips. He took a quick swig from the drink as it was placed before him, if only just to stifle the laugh. "I'm very forlorn, you see." He said dejectedly. He turned then, elbows propped against the bar top, one hand holding the drink, the other clutching his chest, as if in pain.
"Mm! Preach it, brother!" The hand he'd previously had clutched to his chest shot upward, a fist shaking the air as if congratulating the gods themselves for allowing such greatness to walk the earth - and for letting him witness it.
It felt like he'd gotten caught in the middle of a dick sizing contest and it was starting to bore him. Whatever had happened between the two, or was still happening, it felt like he was intruding on years worth of history. It wasn't something he'd normally bother getting involved with.
"You didn't stumble into anything." He replied honestly. After all; It might have been his intention, but they had barely gotten past the point where the girl had bothered looking in his direction. He might have felt wounded, but naturally, he was far too confident for that. "It seems like I'm the one who accidentally stumbled into something."
He pushed himself free of Carter's grasp and grabbed for the drink he'd left unattended for too long, finishing it. He rose then, shoulders rolling. He waved the bartender over. "A whiskey on the rocks."
It didn't take a very smart man to realize he'd walked into something he probably shouldn't have. It did nothing to dissuade him, of course.
His head tilted slightly at the girl's suggestion, but before he could reply, Carter did. It felt pointless to say anything else after that. Not when Carter had put it so nicely. He simply shrugged instead.
Lifting his gaze once more, Isaac grinned. "Dyed the roots yesterday, actually." He'd been platinum blonde since he was eighteen, but new was new, regardless of how one looked at it.
And just like that, Carter managed to capture the entirety of his attention: Partly for show, of course. He didn't think the girl liked it very much, from how hard she was trying to regain it. The dress had been a nice touch, too.
So they did know each other. It wasn't a surprise if he was being perfectly honest. It was just one of those things, really.
Isaac's eyebrows drew up in mock surprise. "The tables have turned, I see." Give it to Carter to make things more interesting. It was all fun and games after all, though the girl didn't seem to enjoy his banter very much. A shame, really.
Blue eyes turned up at the other blonde then. "You smell really nice, by the way."
He was about to reply to the feisty brunette as sudden pressure on his shoulders had the blonde turning his head, blue eyes locking on an all too familiar face. "Bro." Had it been anyone else, Isaac would have been tempted to tell them to shod off. It wasn't just anyone else, though.
Leaning back, Isaac's eyes moved from Carter, to the girl and back to Carter again. "Ah, dammit. You called dibs?" A mocking pout formed on his lips. "Sorry, honey." He offered the girl his best 'what can you do'-shrug.
He grinned at that; He couldn't help it. She was right, after all. "Fair enough." Eyebrows then lifted at the movement and blue eyes followed her as she rose. He supposed that was one way of ensuring her request being answered. With a light shake to his head, he returned his attention to his half empty drink; the ice cubes were starting to melt. What a shame.
Anyone else and he might think they'd just made a fool out of themselves; She was demanding in nature. He supposed that came with the territory, but even he could smell the trouble reeking off of her. Any wise man, or woman, would turn around and walk the other way.
He'd never considered himself to be very wise.
"That's one way of doing it," he mused, more so to himself than to her.
Like most of the males (and females) in the room, he'd noticed her. Unlike the rest of them, though, he hadn't bothered with such feeble attempts at winning her attention. She thought herself better than that, it seemed. He could appreciate someone expecting only the best: He did, after all.
Holding the glass in his hand, he watched as the ice circled the brown liquid. Lately, it seemed as if it was the only thing that did the trick. Either that, or he was just bored.
She returned to the bar and made quite the fuss about it too. He couldn't help the way his lips curled upwards, a chuckle escaping him.
He could have helped her. He wouldn't, but he could have. Instead, he took a swig from his drink. "Maybe if you add another fuck for dramatic effect, he'll hear you."
Isaac Scott Williams FACE CLAIM: Lucky Blue Smith.
♦ THE BASICS ♦
AGE: Twenty-four. GENDER: Male ORIENTATION: Heterosexual. POSITION: College Student @ BA.
♦ THE ABILITY ♦
POWER: Tracking. Isaac has the ability to locate people or objects by tapping into the psychic residue everyone and everything leaves behind.
His ability works much like a key finder, by tapping into the psychic residue, it'll send a signal, like a feeling of being pulled towards something, that grows stronger the closer he gets to whatever (or whoever) he's looking for.
LIMITATIONS:
When tracking a person, Isaac needs to know their name and their general appearance (Like for example seeing a photo), or touch something that belongs and are important to the person he's trying to find.
Ironically, Isaac cannot track himself and his power does not give him the knowledge of a location. He can only follow the pull, not know the location to where he's going.
The further away he is from what/who he's looking for, the weaker the pull will be and the harder it will be for him to find it/them.
While Isaac can locate something/someone in the same city, he wouldn't be able to locate someone/something in, say, a different city or country. The signal would grow too weak for him to even feel it.
Non moving objects and people are easier to track, due to their location not changing. If the object or person he's tracking is moving, the signal might get messed up and he might have to go to their previous location before picking up the new signal from the new location.
Like with people, Isaac needs a basic description of the object he's searching for; If someone told him to look for a pencil without any other information, he'll just end up locating the closest pencil.
SIDE-EFFECTS:
Isaac has developed a obsessive compulsive disorder when it comes to his ability; Once he starts tracking something, it's hard for him to stop until he finds whatever he's looking for.
Due to the nature of his ability, Isaac often finds himself feeling disoriented and confused.
Feeling 'lost' is a common side-effect to his ability, which is often followed by a sense of dread or paranoia.
Mental and physical fatigue.
♦ THE FREEFORM ♦
Malibu, California. Age thirteen.
His twin sister ran past him, a drop of sweat rolling down the back of her neck as she opened the door. "Mom!" She called out. All Isaac could do was lean against the wall, brows furrowed in contemplation. There it was again. That pull. He pushed off the wall then. "Mom! Have you seen my soccer shoes?" He heard her call out again. He knew the shoes she was looking for. The black ones with yellow stripes on the sides. He'd seen them many times before.
Again, he felt drawn towards the laundry room. The same pull he'd first felt only moments before. Stronger this time. He moved down the stairs, stopping in the hallway. The laundry room was through the last door at the end of the hallway. It was if the room itself was calling him. It was odd, yet that didn't quite seem to cover it.
Opening the door, he felt the pull again. This time coming from the cabinet under the sink. He moved closer, leaning forward to open the door. And there they were. Her soccer shoes. Black with yellow stripes on the sides.
"You found them!" His sister called from behind him. Relief heavy on her voice.
Kalispell, Montana. Age thirteen.
It had taken the recruiters two weeks to show up. A few days after himself, his twin sister had manifested too. They'd been told they were mutants and for their own safety, would be brought to a school designed for people like them. People like them. It still felt so odd to think about.
"Can you believe it?"His sister looked through the window, excitement all over her face. He huffed in reply: He didn't know what to believe. It was cool, sure, but what about their life back home? What about their parents? Friends?
"Isaac, look!" His sister sat up in the seat, eagerly pointing towards a person standing in the training field next to the school. "Look!" She continued, finger tapping against the glass. "He's breathing fire!"
Kalispell, Montana. Age fifteen.
"Hey, she came onto me!" The boy exclaimed, holding one hand to his cheek, while the other was in front of him, as if that would stop him. "Isaac, don't." His sister pulled at his arm, but he ignored it. All he could think of was the way this boy had touched his sister.
"Isaac, please." She was pleading now. Isaac looked at her. She was defending this scumbag? He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe how weak she was. It had been apparent that she hadn't wanted him to kiss her and yet, she was trying to defend him.
"Listen to your sister, man." Isaac looked down at the boy he'd just hit, blue eyes narrowed. "Don't ever touch her again."
Kalispell, Montana. Age seventeen.
"Oh please." The blonde girl said, brown eyes rolling into her skull. He figured it was more for effect than anything else. He looked at her over his shoulder. That made her smile. "Stay a little longer." She patted the space next to her on the bed. "Please?"
"Sorry." He pulled the shirt he'd grabbed over his head and pulled it down. With that, he rose from the side of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. He could hear the pout. He could sense her disappointment. He supposed it was too bad then that he didn't really care.
He moved towards the door and he could hear her body drop against the mattress. "See you." She called after him. He didn't respond. He reached for the door and opened it, blue eyes landing upon similar blue ones.
His sister. She was mad. He smiled.
"My best friend? Really, Isaac? What the fuck!"
Kalispell, Montana. Age eighteen.
Their parents had come to Bellefonte for their graduation. His mother was running her fingers through his newly dyed platinum blonde hair. She didn't like it: It was all over her face. "It makes you look paler." She complained. "The Montana sun would do that to anyone." His father said in an attempt to defend his son. Isaac's mother huffed.
"Ah, sweetheart! You look beautiful!" His mother sidestepped him and moved behind him. He didn't bother turning. He already knew what, or rather, who, had captured his mother's attention: His sister. He shared a look with his father and sighed. "I'm gonna head out." His father nodded. His mother didn't even seem to hear it.
"Have fun." His father whispered, winking, as Isaac moved past him. "Yeah, thanks, dad."
Stagfort, Oregon. Age nineteen.
"A writer, huh?" The redhead splayed her fingers across his chest, humming to herself. "You don't strike me as the type." She hoisted herself up, resting her weight against her elbow. She puckered her lips, her eyes meeting his. "But then I guess no one really are."
He didn't remember her name. Was it L something? Lola? Lila?
"I used to write a little when I was younger. I wasn't any good, of course, but it was fun." She continued, running a finger through his platinum blonde hair. His brows furrowed at that; It was such a simple gesture, but coming from her, it felt intimate.
He placed his hand on hers and for a moment, it was almost is if her eyes lit up. He dropped her hand against the mattress and disappointment colored her eyes.
"I should go."
Malibu, California. Age twenty-two.
The table in front of him was decked with plates and food. His mom had really overdid it. Again. "I can't believe my babies are growing up." He heard her chime from the kitchen.
"I can't believe she still calls us her babies." His sister sat across from him, a small smile splayed on her lips. They were home for the weekend. He wouldn't have gone, but it was a special occasion, after all. "Mmhm." He said absentmindedly. His sister stared at him; he hated when she did that.
"Don't do that." He said. "Do what?" She tilted her head. "That." He pursed his lips. "What?" She smiled. "You know what." He smiled. "Fine." She complied.
Stagfort, Oregon. Age twenty-four.
Rubbing his eyes, Isaac tried his best to focus on what the teacher was saying. He'd been studying English and English literature for six years now, along with taking a few general classes to further his writing and he didn't feel like he'd moved at all.
Sure, he'd gotten better and his writing had progressed, but was it enough? Was he simply postponing the inevitable?
"Hey, could I borrow a pen?" Someone asked from behind him. He turned his head. It was a girl. Strawberry blonde hair, freckles and green eyes. "Yeah, sure." He reached for his bag, digging through it until he found a pen. He handed it over to her, a charming smile on his face - as if all of his worries had simply melted away.
"I'm Isaac."
♦ THE PLAYER ♦
USERNAME: Mel. AGE GROUP: Still twenty-five. EXPERIENCE: A few years now. WHERE DID YOU FIND US? Once upon a time...
