Hey. I just read your background, and it looks good. A couple of points struck me.
The switch from Patrick to Tyger is kinda quick. If someone is skimming it might go by. Maybe have a sentance or two when he meets the doctor saying something about how his friends call him Tyger, and which would he prefer?
Also, when he is being attacked by Dane, it seems to me that Dane goes too quickly from anger to rage. Maybe add in a couple of lines where Dane gets angry and starts swinging harder yet continues to miss. maybe one of his friends takes a swing or two and that misses as well. Then, Dane gets to rage and pulls out the gun.
Marcel
( ooc: Alright, something I wrote for my character that I posted in my SG's forum... Well, a slightly language censored version here. Kinda writing bits and pieces as I solidify it enough to write down. Writing may be a bit crappy, but whatcha think? Dark Tyger's a 'bama boy by upbringing.
)
...leaving 12 dead, including the driver. Preliminary reports suggest the driver of the other van was under the influence. One lone survivor is reported in critical but stable condition at Huntsville Hospital.
The TV reporter's voice drifted through the haze of pain. Blackness. That's all Patrick really remembered. His 6th grade science class was on a field trip in a minibus when it happened. Only a few of the top students had been permitted to go. Now, he was in a hospital bed, staring groggily at the TV. Dead? Sure, they picked on him, but he never wished anyone dead.
Patrick heard the door open and looked over. A doctor walked in and sat down next to his bed. "Good, you're awake. Probably wish you weren't, though. I'm Dr Milton." Dr Milton glanced at the TV and then turned it off with the remote. "Looks like you already know that part. It's lucky you're alive here. You were in a lot worse shape when you came in." He looked down at the folder in his hands. "We ran some tests. But these results only tell us what we already know. No way you could have survived the trip here without it. You're only lucky it's not something more visible."
"What do you mean?" Patrick asked groggily.
"You came in just this morning with severe injuries. You would have died from internal bleeding. And now, by this afternoon, you're lying here watching TV. Probably still in a lot of pain, but there's a lot for your body to heal. You've probably studied mutatants in science class, maybe even have a few in your school, right?"
"Yeah. One kid with blue skin and a tail, even. All the other kids pick on him worse than they pick on me. Makes me mad. Wait, do you mean...?"
Dr Milton smiled a little. "Your mother said you were a good kid. Yes, Patrick. You regenerate fast. It's the only reason you're alive. The...trauma of the wreck jarred your power awake, so to speak. They usually start manifesting at your age, this just hurried it up."
Patrick laid his head back and closed his eyes. "Tired..."
"Takes a lot to heal so much damage. Your body's working hard. Go ahead and rest." Dr Milton stood up and looked down at the boy. "We're gonna keep it under wraps. Your mother knows, that's it. You should do the same. It'll make your life a lot easier." He looked at the file in his hand. "We'll have to keep you in a few weeks. You'll probably be good as new in a couple days, but it'd raise too many questions if we let you walk out of here that fast."
Patrick nodded. "Got enough problems."
====
A sharp kick to the stomach sent the blue skinned boy to the asphalt of the parking lot as a circle of teenagers stood around him. One particularly burly looking boy with his head shaved scowled down at him. A button with a 5th Column insignia adorned his leather jacket, and a rebel flag on his back. "What'd we tell ya 'bout hangin' out here by yerself, blue boy?" The steel toe of the boy's boot connected with the mutant's chin, sending his head snapping back as he cried out. "I only put up with yer ugly face at school 'cause they make me. Don't think I gotta do th' same here, boy." He held out his hand, and one of his friends produced a steel pipe from his pack and handed it over. "I'm gonna enjoy this-...."
"Leave him alone, Dane." Patrick crossed over from the other side of the abandoned lot.
The burly boy stopped and turned around. "Or what? You ain't got th' guts to fight me, Tyger. Never have, never will."
"That's enough! You can pick on me, but this is serious, Dane. You're really gonna hurt him with that!"
Dane laughed. "Oh, playin' th' big man all th' sudden? Hold Blue, I'll clean this mess up quick as a warm-up." Dane's friends grabbed the blue skinned boy as he was weakly trying to scramble away.
Dane spun around and swung the pipe at Tyger, who lept back gracefully out of the way. A little too gracefully, but Dane didn't notice quite yet. Dane charged forward, swinging the pipe forcefully, Tyger dodging and jumping out of the way with ease. "Not bad, boy. Time ta get serious." Dane pulled a gun quickly and fired. Tyger tried to jump out of the way, but caught the bullet in the shoulder, sending him spinning in the air and hanging a little too long before he landed gently on his feet. "How in th' hell...? No way anyone can land that neatly from that. What's with you, boy?"
Tyger was kneeling on the ground, holding his shoulder. Blood was seeping between his fingers and staining his tshirt around his hand. "Lucky...I guess..."
"Yeah, ya got a lotta luck. Lil' too much, if ya ask me." Dane grabbed Tyger's hand and pulled it away from the wound, holding the gun to Tyger's head with the other hand. "Don't even think about it." He leaned in to look at the wound, which was already almost healed over. Dane smirked suddenly and spat in Tyger's face. "I knew it! My brother died in that wreck, freak! Yer freak *** comes out alive because yer a frickin' MUT! Gonna blow yer head off. Betcha can't heal back from that, boy!"
Tyger suddenly kicked out, connecting with Dane's shin and throwing him off balance, landing face-first into the asphalt. The gun flew from Dane's hand and skittered across the ground. Tyger dove for it, rolling to his feet and turning it on Dane. He glared over his shoulder at Dane's friends who had started to reach into their own jackets. "Do it and he's dead." They paused to think for a moment before making a break for it. Tyger turned back to Dane, who was still dazed. "Gotta pick your friends better, Dane. Leaving you in a situation like this..."
"Go 'head an' shoot." Dane smirked. "If ya don't, th' whole city's gonna know whatcha are. Ya think ya'll be able ta hide it?"
"Right, like they're gonna believe you. A nazi-wannabe bully. You cry mutie at every little thing. You've beat up more normals than mutants, and everyone knows it." Tyger put the gun in his pocket and stood up. "Get out of here. Run away like your so-called friends."
Dane stood up and glared, looking like he was going to lunge forward again before spitting at Tyger. "Ya ain't worth th' sweat, boy. Everyone's gonna find out sooner or later." With that, he turned and ran after his friends.
Tyger walked over to the blue skinned boy and held out a hand. "God, we need to get you to Dr Milton, Jace," he said as he put the boy's arm around his shoulder to support him.
"You didn't have to do that. I would've been fine," Jace said in his voice that sounded like a half growl.
"They were gonna kill you, Jace. Get real."
"Ever think that I wanted that?" Tyger scowled at Jace's words. "I been putting up with crap like that all my life. I can't do it anymore, DT." Jace looked at Tyger. "Don't gimme that look, either! You're lucky Dane's known as an idiot who'd call his own mother a mutant at the first thing she did that even looked strange! God, DT, you wanna have to go through what I do?"
"Not like I don't have my own crap to put up with already." Tyger shrugged. "Don't really care what they think of me anymore. Doesn't matter. Doesn't mean it's okay for them to treat other people bad."
"Mr Selfless." Jace shook his head. "You're a damn fool, you know that?"
"Yeah, people keep telling me that..." Tyger grinned. "Let's get you to the doc."
Virtue Server
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