Origins

((WIP))

"It was a vase. It was always some vase or statue or painting that my parents would pile into their monster of a home. They had an eye for just about everything. Good food, art, vacation spots. Everything but what I needed them to be. Who was I to complain? I got everything I wanted and a few things I didn't. This time it was a vase. As they dragged it into my room I looked at it with disgust. The blue monster of a thing sitting on the far wall. I hated it. It was the embodiment of everything they loved. Funny I couldn't see my reflection in it. That burning fury I felt when i saw it tore at me until I snapped. My eyes were ablaze with a blue light. When I finally calmed, the vase was still there, but everything behind it was a burning mess. I was 11 years old standing there in front an inferno burning through my home and the eternal gaze of awe and confusion of my parent. My mother screamed in horror. My father remained quiet, trying to put together what happened. As his eyes found me in his search for logic, I Was I? I wanted to believe it but I was to scared to admit that I was different. In a life where things are set up for me I was different.

They sent me away not more than a week later. Lived at the foster home til I graduated high school. Up until graduation. 7 years of the worst fights of my life. I tried to use my powers, nothing worked. Getting angry didn't seem to do the trick. I soon gave up trying. Maybe that one times was a fluke? I graduated with a 3.8 GPA and went straight the the marines. I mean, why not? I wasn't doing anything else and I was already good at fighting. This decision would change my life forever.

In my Marine years, I climbed the ranks as the best they had to offer. They sent me overseas to fight Viper terrorist groups. I was 'lead' Jeff Callahan. Called him "Callahan the tough-man". 6'7, 254...56 lbs., shaven brown hair, built like an ape with a self satisfied grin. Nobody liked his pretentious attitude but when he gave an order I always answered with an 'oorah'. Others would do the same out of fear of his possible mutant abilities. It was my job. 'Super strength' he claimed often. Am I saying he didn't have the power? No. I knew he had it. I wasn't one to care. He knew I didn't. See, we had an understanding. If I didn't step on his toes, I wouldn't dance on his. I guess my boots got too big. Eventually I took his job after saving our unit from a Viper base set to explode. Callahan wanted to leave them for dead. Before I knew it, I had earned the respect of the whole camp. Go figure.

2 years into my service, I got leave. Nowhere to go. I'm not much for vacations. It's been more than 9 years. I hated to admit it, but I was home sick. If 2 years could change me this much, maybe 9 years could change how they felt about me. Things are much easier to believe when you want them to be true. I went home.

And Now...

OOC Information...

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