Ghosts of my Forefathers

[Guest boston_celtics]

I don't know if this character concept has already been done, but whatever, here's my first attempt to write an FPL character. I haven't gotten time to format it according to the template, but I wanted to see what you guys thought of the background. Criticism is appreciated, but please go easy on me, it is my first try.

 

“Wrong, son!†my father yelled at me, banging his fist on his desk. The last thing I wanted to do was to anger father, not only out of fear, but also, out of a deep and powerful respect for him. Even though he was my father, I always looked at him in a different light when I found out who he was. “Son, I have explained to you before, we are not like those other men! We do not do this for wealth or for recognition. We do this because it is our duty!†my father continued, his anger mounting at my inability to learn. I felt ashamed at myself. It was bad enough that I was the misfit, the only Wilson in ten generations born without the spark, the power. “Now, repeat to me what Arthur Wilson, our ancestor and great originator, said.†my father instructed. I took a deep breath and began, “One does not pursue our line due to any material benefit, unless the satisfaction of the soul is considered as such. One pursues this to satisfy one’s mind, to heal one’s self. If any material benefit will be obtained, then the person did not accomplish the true goal, which is, to maintain balance and to punish the wicked. After all, the only thing more wicked then evil men, are evil men who hide behind their false proclamations and their hypocrisy. These men who I am referring to are none other then the superheroes. They hide behind their masks and their false ideals, convincing the public of their ‘good intentions’ whilst pursuing their own agenda, which is, inevitably, their own benefit. Hypocrisy, my son, is the greatest sin a man can commit. To punish them, the hypocrites that call themselves heroes, is no crime. It is a service towards the betterment of humanity, the weeding out of all the filth and evil that populate the world. We are humanity’s saviors, not its present, but its future. Remember that, for you will carry on my legacy. We are the true super-heroes, son, and we shall never give up our quest, the complete and utter purge of evil from this world, starting with the heroes. Through this, we shall cleanse ourselves, and be recognized in heaven.†I sighed and sat back down. I knew that I had gotten some of that wrong, but I couldn’t correct it now. All I could do was wait for my father’s inevitable wrath. Fortunately for me, a knock on the door saved me. It was my sister, Elena. “Father, Walter, Col. Courageous is on the move again. Routine bank robbery, but he’s alone. This is a perfect chance to take him. I think that we should make our move.†She said, not looking at either of us directly, although I felt her speech was directed more towards farther. ‘Yes,†he responded, “A perfect opportunity, especially for Walter. He’ll have a chance to witness how we operate. Did you hear me? Ready yourself.†My father motioned both of us out of the room. I held my head low, so that my sister could not look me straight in the eye. I couldn’t bear it, not after she obviously heard father’s outrage at me. All I could do was hold my head low and await for father’s order for the family to move out.

 

The bank that we arrived at wasn’t like any bank that I had seen. First of all, it wasn’t lit inside, which seemed unnatural for a robbery at night. It was also so quiet it made me uneasy. Oh yeah, and it was empty. “What trickery is this?†my father cried at Elena. I could tell his temper was rising, which wasn’t a good thing for anybody, but my sister was eerily calm about it. My mother was quiet, using her enhanced senses to scan the area, and my brother was oblivious to all of this, as usual, yammering away with his girlfriend who was his cell 24/7. I sighed again, staring at my dysfunctional family. This was the legacy of Arthur Wilson, the greatest super-villain (although he himself despised the term) in history. If I could possibly forget my own shameful existence, I might be ashamed of what had happened. “Trap!†cried my mother, snapping me back into the present. Suddenly, lights flashed on everywhere, focusing on me and my family. A trap indeed, we had been set-up! “Elena, you scum!†my father yelled, reaching out towards her, but missing by inches. Col. Courageous had dashed in just in time and snatched her away. “You’re the scum, Wilson! Attacking your own daughter because she turned towards the side of justice? That’s sick!†cried the Colonel. I noticed that Elena was smiling all the while, and that, aside from the Colonel, more super-heroes and armed personnel, probably military, surrounded us in the “bank.†“Elena, you would betray your own family!†cried my mother, half in tears, “Your ideals, your heritage, were they all meaningless to you?†“No, mother,†answered my sister calmly, “not my heritage, nor my ideals. They were father’s and grandfather’s ideals. The fact that you so readily accepted them means that you are no relation of mine.†“Elena,†my father began, his voice calm all of a sudden, “You are my daughter, and through you runs the blood of a sacred tradition. I tell you now, return to us, to your noble heritage, and I will spare your life. Remain where you stand, however, and you shall be on the wrong side of history. Your name shall be remembered amongst the great Judases! Revenge will be had!†“You are in no position to bargain!†snapped Elena, “Do not forget that it is I that holds your life. You should be begging me to spare your life, in order to preserve your so-called ‘noble’ blood. And what do you mean by revenge? Who will avenge you, once I have slaughtered you?†“My son, Walter Wilson, the culmination of ten generations of our bloodline, is who.†answered father, in a strong, confident tone. I, for one, didn’t have any idea what he was talking about, and looked up at him questioningly. He merely smiled. “You’re pathetic.†My sister practically spat at my father, and motioned the Colonel, who still held her in his arms, to proceed. “So,†he said, “This is how the great Wilson tradition dies, trapped like rats. How embarrassing. I wonder what your ancestors will say when you meet them in hell?†“Ask them yourself.†My father said, in one last defiant gesture, before the guns fired and the Colonel charged. All I can recall from the haze of the violence was my father, repeating over and over, like a mantra, “Never stop fighting.â€

 

I heard my father’s voice calling to me, or rather, ordering me. Typical start of the day, perhaps that whole occurrence was a dream, and I had woken up. Of course, I knew it wasn’t, due to two circumstances. One was the hard surface I was lying on that felt like everything was bed wasn’t, and two, my father’s voice was accompanied by other voices, male and female, which I didn’t recognize. Once I had mustered the strength to open my eyes, I did. The room where my entire family had been slaughtered was bare of everything, empty shells, shattered glass, bodies, everything. Except, apparently, for me, the only thing present in a haunting room. How could they have missed me? This couldn’t possibly be an oversight; I was lying in plain sight! So I must have been left here on purpose, but why? I clutched at my head, the voices growing louder and more indistinct. Only my father’s voice was loud and clear enough to be audible, but even that strained my concentration to hear. I could pick up stray words such as son, or tradition, but nothing else. The voices were causing my head to pulse painfully. All I could think of was to escape, to get out of this room and its haunting memories of betrayal and death. My family, dead, and its legacy erased. All that was left was a traitorous sister and me, the outcast and shame of my name. “Wrong.†I heard my father’s voice in my head, and another too, one I didn’t recognize, said, ‘Your father is right, you are far from the outcast, you are the culmination.†The voices suddenly fell silent. “I am the spirit of Arthur Wilson, the first of my clan, who began the tradition of all the Wilsons after me, to punish the wicked men. But, because of the many opposing forces, I failed in my mission. So my burden fell to my son, who, through his marriage, expanded our tradition to many families. What you do not realize, Walter, is that Wilson blood flows through many veins, but that blood is diluted, impure. So, although they bore my name and embraced my philosophy, only a few of them actually carried my tradition.†“Why are you telling me this? What’s happening to me?†I asked out loud. Arthur didn’t take notice, he continued. “But there was one amongst these who was the greatest, for she was a prophetess, the last one of her kind. She made a prediction, that in the tenth generation, there would rise a boy, the third of his family, that would complete Wilson’s task. All other Wilsons born before this child would do nothing more then prepare for the coming of the boy. That boy, is you Walter. Ten generations and countless successes and failures by many a man and woman have been achieved because of you. You are the culmination, the climax of the Wilson clan, the fulfillment of my vision.â€

 

“Uhhh… A little too much information to take in, don’t you think?†I said, half jokingly. Personally, I didn’t believe a word of it. “I just don’t understand, if I’m the culmination, why don’t I have any powers?†“Son, you do.†Replied my father’s… spirit I assumed. “I must confess to you, I feel deeply sorry for all the pain I may have caused you. You must understand, your power was so great, I couldn’t just tell you outright, or else who knows what might have occurred. Power corrupts son, I know that I taught you that, at least, even the most innocent of creatures. However, I caused you pain, and you made false conclusions about it, and or that, I am sorry.†“What?†I asked, the idea being so unbelievable. If I had powers, why had I never encountered an inkling of them? I once again clutched my head, and found myself wandering the city streets, having unconsciously walked out of whatever building they had attacked me in. I came across a clear glass window, and stared, amazed, at myself. The bullet wounds that I had felt just hours before were… gone. I looked better than ever, stronger, more agile (How did I even tell that) are all around healthier. “Wha… what are my… powers?†I managed to stutter out. It was Arthur that answered, “You, Walter, have the ability to channel the spectral and the non-corporeal through your body. Let me explain, your body is open to spirits and other entities like myself, as long as they share attachment to you. Because you have the ability to channel these entities, you incorporate their very essence into yourself. In layman’s terms, you can mimic that spirits abilities. Every single Wilson that ever died had a spirit that, instead of journeying towards the next world, remained, to grant you their power. You are the culmination of their life, the culmination of all their lives. Their strength, skill, power, training, victories and defeats, all were done so that you could utilize it in your destiny. Your destiny, Walter, is to finally purge this world of the unclean, the evil and wicked and unclean. You know them.†“Yes,†I said slowly, the realization finally dawning on me, “I know them. They are the men who steal and the men who torture and the men who kill, whilst hiding behind false words. The super-heroes.†“Yes,†said Arthur, “the super-heroes. Look at yourself once again, in the glass.†I obeyed, and gazed at myself. In it, I saw the souls of generation after generation of men, who were scorned for their ideals (No matter how noble) and persecuted for their heritage (No matter how legendary). I was them now, the ghosts of my fathers inhabited me, I was their host, I was their fulfillment, their crowning glory. I knew now my destiny. All that was left was to implement it. “But, don’t forget,†said another voice, female, that of my mother, “there remains one other loose end to cut; your sister.†Yes, I knew, I remembered. She too, would be punished; she would be punished greatly for her betrayal. The Wilson clan… no, the Wilson dynasty, would cleanse this Earth, and restore purity. I would see to that!

 

The bloody body of Mr. Victory lay in-front of me. “Tell me,†I said, “Where is Col. Courageous? Don’t make me start the torture over; you do know that it bores me.†The hero tried to get on his feet, annoying me greatly, forcing me to restart the illusion. My forefather, Arthur Wilson, was a master of illusion, and it was one of my favorite powers to channel. “All right!†cried Mr. Victory, finally giving up on his comrade. “He moved, with that Wilson chick, to the east coast. Oh God, please, don’t hurt me.†“Oh, I won’t anymore.†I told him softly, before I proceeded to punch his face in. It looked like my destiny would take me eastward, and I would continue the purge on the way. The ghosts of my forefathers urged me on, and I felt safe in their presence.

[Guest Ren]

I haven't finished reading it yet, partly because the dialogue between Elena and the father is trying way too hard to be dramatic, so much so that it comes across as stilted instead. Also, line breaks! We can do those now.

 

I did like the "One does not pursue our line" speech, though. If I were you, I'd find a way to put that at the end of the sheet and make it a plot twist. Will give a more in-depth CA when I'm less likely to be doing other stuff.

[Guest boston_celtics]

I haven't finished reading it yet, partly because the dialogue between Elena and the father is trying way too hard to be dramatic, so much so that it comes across as stilted instead. Also, line breaks! We can do those now.

 

I did like the "One does not pursue our line" speech, though. If I were you, I'd find a way to put that at the end of the sheet and make it a plot twist. Will give a more in-depth CA when I'm less likely to be doing other stuff.

 

Ok, thanks for the help. I'll work on it.

[treacherous]

Been out, but I'm reading this now. I'll get back to the review.

[treacherous]

It's an interesting concept: a family dynasty of super hero killers. However, I think for there to be a family history based on this, we need to see more reason for it. Okay, heroes are hypocrites and hypocrites are the worst kind of people. Sure, Fine...but is that it. We got to kill them for that? There has got to be more to it. Did great great great Jebediah Wilson get killed by one of these masked heroes? Maybe a hero used to be a friend of one of the Wilson's and turned on him. I personally, would like a little more depth behind why this family is so dedicated to this.

 

Next, I would go for weapons creation if it is available. You have a guy that can draw on the powers of generations of people with powers. He's going to be pulling more than just illusions out the hat. Your character would be a pretty unique usage of the power.

 

Last, this is a good first attempt in my eyes. Better than a lot of first tries I've seen recently. It would probably have a pretty even win/loss stat in the old FPL system. I don't think it would make the elims, but it would do better than your average first try (that is if no admins or vets were writing at the time).