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8,100 | 215 | 15 | 704 | 309 | ALAN FOUREN
Corridors, New Anchorage
]
M O O D M U S I C
Alan’s eyes locked with glowing red eyes as he leapt from cover. He accepted this: he would most likely die. But he could give Jingo and Josh a chance to fight back or escape. It would be his last act as a leader. A good sacrifice for his squadmates. “AAR-”
*CHUNK, CHUNK, CHUNK!*
The sudden flash of light from behind the two soldiers aiming at him came as a godsend; and there on her wings of fury was one Tahlia Styles: a valkyrie of vengeance that came from the heavens to deliver the three men (and robot dog) to safety. For that moment, Alan fell madly in love with her for that split second; a mix of emotions from relief that someone was there saving their collective asses, and the fact that she looked amazing holding a laser rifle killing the men that wanted to kill them.
The first man she gunned down hit the floor hard; if he wasn’t dead he was hurt, but the second soldier seemed willing to return fire at the woman. It was enough to move his gaze towards Tahlia instead of Alan, and that split second was the chance the man had to take; he leapt over several downed bodies, bringing his metal pipe up and against the jaw of the second soldier, bringing the man down onto the ground. Alan didn’t stop there, however.
”DIE. YOU. FUCKING. BASTARD.” He brought the metal pole down on the man’s hand with every punctuated curse. Blood began to erupt from his targets skull, and soon Alan was stained with the splatter, covering his undershirt and pants.
Alan continued to pound until the sound of metal filled the corridor, with the rest of the pilots quiet at his sudden violent actions. In that moment, he wasn’t in the corridor; he was in a raider camp. He was getting revenge. For that moment the only way he could assert that he was alive was to take the life of someone else. The soldier sufficed for now.
“I think they’re dead. Huh.”
Josh’s words snapped Alan back to reality. “F-fuck…” he muttered, before falling to his knees. He felt light headed. “We’re alive.”
Jingo watched Alan as he beat in the assailant’s skull, his lips pursed thinly in reaction to the gorey sight. The man knelt down to pick up a plasma carbine that laid on the floor. He wracked the lever open slightly to check the condition of the energy cell. Looking satisfied with the weapon, Jingo appeared ready to carry on.
“Thanks to the Australian Sensation, yeah.” Josh’s comment seemed like an attempt to lighten the mood after Alan’s…display.
"Keep trying those flirt tactics and I’ll send you out to the front lines," Tahlia rose from out of the alcove, checking the rifle in her hand to see how much ammunition was left; not much apparently. She strided toward the group, keeping her ears open in order to ensure that they were in the clear. Her first point of interest was their Datatools on their wrists as it was an easy way to find out who they were and what their main objective was. She tapped the unit and waited for the display to appear.
As Tahlia went about her business Alan crouched down at his recent kill, rifling through the corpse’s pockets, checking if his armor still had enough integrity to be used, and of course; he armed himself. This wasn’t the first time he’d looted a corpse, and he doubted it would be the last. His greatest belief was of survival at all costs. A corpse wouldn’t miss their belongings, after all. And he’d looted enough corpses without a karmic backlash to keep him from this task. He wrested a clean datatool from the body, and peeled off the outer cover of the synth weave armor. He set the armor aside for now; it wouldn't make them tanks but it would keep them alive in the off chance a stray blast hit them in the torso. He was surgical in his work; producing a credit chit, a spare power cell, nothing that gave credence to who this man was before. Alan preferred that. It allowed him to rationalize his brutality as some aspect of protection, both for himself and for his comrades. It didn’t stop the pounding in his ears, however. When he was finished with his body, Alan stood up and shined his light over to the other corpses, walking to a fresh one and began his process again. Seeing the fresh body under the light, Alan let out a single word: ”Motherfucker.”
He was dressed as a New Anchorage guard— they all were.
"God damn it!" Tahlia cried out in disapointed frustration. She had cycled through the contained details and noticed that much of the key information was simply gone. Mission logs, radio frequencies, even the individual’s personal details. "It looks like the device has gone through a complete wipe."
Joshua sighed as he holstered his handgun before kneeling down to pick up one of the assault rifles lying on the floor, “Well at least they weren’t rigged up outside of a memory wipe protocol. We could be all human paintings right now.”
“Le’s go.” Jingo uttered.
Alan nodded, pocketing items he could carry for now. An extra Datatool and another power cell.”Shouldn't be a difficult walk to the armory now.” He checked the rifle in his arms, happy to have something of use— at least with more range than a pipe. “I hope the others didn’t run into these guys.”
“Well, not these guys.” Joshua kicked one of the bodies to check them for signs of life. “They’re kind of dead.”
‖ ‖ ‖ ‖ ‖
”Holy shit, they’re dead.”Elicott’s reaction to the aftermath of their first battle resonated in Alan’s head. He still could not get used to the comm channel. ”Do you think we could have solved this...peacefully?” Elicott and Alan had deployed together, but this had been Elicott's first real battle. The first few times fighting bleeder worms in the Alabama wastes, Elicott had remained at their flank, protecting the cargo transport. This time he'd been up close to the action. He'd seen death. And now the boy was looking at shredded metal, charred earth and the remains of a corpse that had failed in an attempt to eject his NC.
”With raiders? No.” Dicer’s voice took command over the group at least. The older boy always seemed to exude confidence and wisdom; even if he was only 19 years old. Dicer was a true commander, a man who should have been born in the megacity. There he really could have made a name for himself as a great pilot or commander. Instead, he was born into one of the poorest families at The Mound. His mother was a maid at a brothel, and his father had died of sickness years ago. For Dicer, it was fight for the towns or die destitute. He chose to fight. He was the kind of guy that anyone would be glad to follow into the mouth of hell, without a second thought. He got them into more trouble than it was worth, but it always worked itself out in the end. Hell, Dicer’s stupid ideas had gotten them some of the town’s most lucrative contracts. The four of them together? They could beat anything. Mutant beasts, raiders, storms. They were going to be great.
”I gotta say though, Al. You went hog wild on them, didn’t ya? Tore the bastards to shred in that Wolf of yours. Hell, we need a new name for it. The Wild Wolf! Sound good Al?”
Al?
‖ ‖ ‖ ‖ ‖
"Al!" Alan felt Josh push against his shoulder. ”Come on man, let’s get to the armory before more of these guys show up.”
”Right. Let’s move.”Alan felt lost in that moment. Lost in his own memories, and lost in the darkness of the corridors. In that very moment, as they began to move deeper into the darkness, Alan felt a pang of loneliness and pain that he’d buried years ago. He felt homesick. | Alan Fouren
“Tons of danger, low odds of mission success, and I’m probably going to lose a limb. Sounds great!”
C A L L S I G NWild Wolf
N C O R I G I NFairbanks
D - O - BJuly 14, 2654 (22)
G E N D E RMale
A P P E A R A N C E Scruffy would be an understatement with Alan: nothing about him screams soldier. Shaggy hair, unkempt facial hair, and roughshod angular features. Alan sports a scar running from his left ear down his neck; a wound he received during his first sortie in the Wild Wolf. He stands roughly around 5'11, just a hair shy of breaking 6 foot. He is lithe and had slight musculature, due to his history as a junker. His casual clothes consist of a faded denim button downed shirt and dark slacks. While still young, Alan sports dark bags under his eyes, and has gained deep creased wrinkles on his forehead. His shaggy mop of hair is a dark brown, with matches the near black spotty beard that runs down his jaw, working its best to cover the scar. He seems spacey, and is more akin to sport a smile when not under combat conditions.
P E R S O N A L I T Y Alan is friendly to everyone he meets. Affable, open handed and humorous, Alan does not seem to really fit the mold of a soldier by any respects—and he owes that to being more or less forcibly pulled into this life rather than simply volunteering or being raised to be a soldier. Alan has an incurable form of gallows humor when preparing for the sortie, and his mix of inexperience on the actual frontlines of combat make him an odd member of the team. It never helped that he was one of the lowest passing score in Graham’s test; a feat that did not endear him to any of his team.
Alan’s lackadaisical personality is the kind that veterans would push around as the man looking to get himself killed on the battlefield; the key difference is Alan’s personality when in the heat of battle. In combat, Alan feeds off of pain: both emotional and physical. Alan’s own personality in dire combat changes from his happy-go-lucky nice guy routine to a ruthless and aggressive psychopath. The further he is pushed mentally in combat; the more bloodlust consumes his personality. It makes him a dangerous wildcard on the field, putting himself at risk as well as his fellow soldiers.
S K I L L S E T
Junkyard Mechanic: Unlike his counterparts who had access to proper materials during their combat stays, Alan grew up in the frontier where clean, shiny new supplies were few and far between. This meant that he had to scrounge and repurpose outdated, damaged or scavenged parts to keep his unit in workable condition. While he has to leave it to the professionals for proper upkeep of the WW, Alan can perform emergency repairs in the field if push comes to shove, and that ingenuity comes in handy when things go to shit.
Unshakable Will: In serious situations, the average pilot would lose their cool and give into negative emotions, shaking them and breaking their morale. Alan, due to both his insane drive for destruction when fully “in the zone” as well as his own nature of do-or-die, is not easily shaken in combat. It would take extreme duress to make him break his usual façade; though a break would be disastrous.
Adaptive: Alan’s past has forced him to make due with supplies and weapons he could scrounge either in the junkyard, the frontier or after battle. Alan lacks any sheer expertise with weapons; but he makes up for that in his ability to pick up and use a weapon with gradual skill. If he can find a half-working FMR or a Powered Spike, Alan can find a way to perform maximum damage with it.
Well Read: If Alan has one indulgence it's literature. At a young age, collecting bits of archaic literature became a past time for Alan, especially exploring the databanks of ruined libraries. Alan's datapad has to date over 800 novels, short stories and poetry ranging from the seventeenth century to the twenty-third century. Alan prefers the classics over the later literature, enjoying chivalric romances, gothic horror and transcendental poetry. Alan's favorite stories include Le Morte d'Arthur, The Once and Future King, Frankenstein, T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland, and The Hound of the Baskervilles.
B A C K S T O R Y
Alan grew up in Dead Springs, near the Neo-Atlanta Megacity in Fairbanks. Small ruins and tons of junk, it became a frontier trading post between the larger megacities in lower Fairbanks. Still, living in the frontier comes with danger: raiders especially. The test came to Alan’s town later in his life, when he was seventeen. Thinking of a chance to provide for his family and give them a better life than living in a junkyard town, he took his chance with the surgery.
Still, a town needs money to pay their pilots. And Dead Springs was no megacity. But when you’re in a junkyard, you can find many wondrous things: including the frame of the Wild Wolf. Found nestled away in a collapsed compound in the ruins, the frame had been stripped of armor and a core, leaving only the skeleton remaining: a remnant of what it could be. But a frame would work: with money raised for a core, and what armor and armaments the money could afford; the WW was rebuilt piecemeal. But it worked.
Alan took up sorties with local combatants, as well as defense jobs in the area; providing for both his home and his family; allowing them more luxuries than a Junker’s life can provide. But more than that, he fought to bring them some semblance of peace. However, a roughshod mech is only as good as its parts and pilot allow; and it was on these sorties that Alan met real terror. A team of outdated and hand-built mechs don’t usually fare well against well trained and well equipped soldiers; especially deserters from Neo-Atlanta. Outmatched and outgunned, Alan’s compatriots were slaughtered, and he was left broken and left for dead; a heavy grinder blade digging into his cockpit and tearing the metal apart, giving him his facial scar as a reminder.
The deserters didn’t simply wipe out the defense party; they came to Dead Springs. The town and its people burned. That’s when the second personality came to life. A beast, a wild, rabid dog that fed on all of Alan’s negativity towards his weakness came to life. It consumed him and drove him to fight. He survived, and he kept the Wild Wolf alive using the parts he could salvage from his fallen comrades. Metal scavenged from the destroyed ruins of his town strengthened his armor-and he went hunting.
Surprise attacks. Traps. Decoys and delays. Alan learned to fight his new enemies with his mind to make up for his glaring technological weaknesses and his own lack of combat skills. And when it came to combat, the harder he fought, the higher his synchronization grew with the Wild Wolf. The more he fell into his ravenous fury, the harder he fought. In the end, Alan got his revenge at the cost of the Wolf’s left arm and right leg, both which he felt every bit of pain from. A team hired out from Neo-Atlanta’s own division had been dispatched to clean up the deserters, only to find their mission had been completed by a junker from the sticks.
Alan received no payment.
With no family and no prospects left in his home, Alan did what he could. Scavenging materials from the newer model mechs he had destroyed gave him a slightly better edge than a raider now, and with the beast inside of him awakened, he aimed to feed that hunger for carnage. That’s where he met Graham.
He was a disappointing prospect to the Commander from the get-go. No real military combat experience. He was a frontier skirmish fighter. He was unfamiliar with up-to date equipment and weaponry. His physical tests and his skill tests were passable and he barely skirted by with that. Ultimately, he looked like he would be a wash-out until Graham’s…test. Climb an aging, old war combat frame with no grappling hook, no mag gloves and make it run without. If you couldn’t get it scrambled in time, you weren’t worth it.
When it came to Alan’s turn, the instructors gathered already prepared for disappointment. Alan simply smiled.
T H E M E C H The Wild Wolf is simplistic in design, due to the no-frills need of a working combat mech without much to go on in personal armaments and equipment. Still, Alan had scrounged a few newer parts and weapons to keep up with some of the more professional NCs that he has to work with. The basic frame is simplistic, covered in a hodgepodge of mismatched armor; all roughly painted the same color; even if it doesn’t look all that pretty.
Equipment:
-Stock NC Control
-Leg and lower back thrusters to give strong bursts of speed and sustained air boosts for a limited time for extra mobility
-Average generator
-Mix of light and medium armor over the mech; the left arm and right leg have heavier armor due to the armor being taken from a stronger mech, whereas his right arm and left leg have lighter armor.
Armaments:
-Heavily Used LFR (Light Frame Rifle)-30 round magazine, short-to-mid ranger. (Right hand)
-Underbarrel HFG Launcher: A 3 round grenade launcher attached to the LFR. Equipped with standard fragmentary grenades.
-Scavenged light grinder blade: A heavy blade mean to pierce and then tear pieces of a mech apart. (Left hand)
-Electrical Discharge Canon: Emits high powered electrical bursts at close range. Can temporarily disable an unshielded NC or cause damage to the pilot in the cockpit.
R E L A T I O N SCommander Graham: Alan can’t exactly put his finger on where he rubs the commander wrong. Whether it’s his attitude or lack of hardened combat experience, the only thing that Alan has going for him is his impressive display during the test. And even that didn’t endear him too much.
Anastasia Kalfox:Alan knows how the wind blows with this girl. Cool, calm and professional; not the kind you piss with the wrong way. He respects her. She's military and she's well skilled. When the shit hits the fan, Alan trusts Stein to be the girl to follow in combat.
Elizabeth Jackspar: Alan isn't quite sure he's even had eye contact with Jackspar in his entire time in New Anchorage. Honestly, he doesn't think that's too bad of a thing.
Kathryn Dradht: Ryn and Alan have an odd relationship. Ryn insults him, Alan smiles and laughs. Ryn is the only pilot Alan knows personally, as he worked several sorties with her before coming to Anchorage. He respects her skill as a pilot and as a sniper. He can vouch for her skill, but he makes not mention of actually knowing her from before, and Ryn isn't out gossiping about Alan anyway.
Ordent Callaway: Alan honestly likes the guy. Since the day of the test, Alan took to manhandling Callaway and being honestly friendly to the guy. When Callaway actually passed the test, much to the shock of the others, Alan actually cheered the guy on. Still, he doesn't actually talk much to him. Alan is nice, but never opens up to him or anyone.
Percy Moore: Alan respects Percy greatly, due to his morals. He'll just never admit it to the man. Percy's attitude reminds him of his own father, and that's painful enough that Alan keeps his distance from the man, and lays the sarcasm on thick if Percy does talk to him.
Tahlia Styles: If he wasn't so damn intimidated by her indescipherable accent, he might actually want to get a drink with her. She reminds him of his kind of people but with an Aussie flavor. Plus, he's always happy to have some heavy artillery when things get hot and heavy.
Madison Cole: Alan's word to describe her? The hospital chick. He has had nearly zero interaction with her due to the woman being in the infirmary, and honestly, he's happy for that. One less person for him to grow to care about.
Vera Voloshyna: Damnit, of all the cute kids in the world, why did he have to have her in this squad. The baby recruit scares Alan, because he doesn't want to see her get into this world. With Ryn it's different; he and her are from the same world, forced to pilot to survive. If Alan had his way, Vera would never see combat.
"Jingo" Strange: Jingo is Alan's ideal drinking partner. Except Alan would be terrified to see the man actually drink. It's not that Jingo's face grosses Alan out (it does) but it's the fact that Alan sees Jingo as a man he could become if he's not careful. Alan's scar already feels too close to that.
Agatha Smith: While she's old enough to be grandmotherly, Alan secretly views her more as a replacement mother. The fact that he latched onto that so quickly terrifies him, and he tries to keep his distance, even if Agatha is the kind to go after you and talk while you're trying to hide in a NC. Not saying Alan has or anything...
Alexander Sky: Alan kept his distance and won't really talk about the guy. Alan seemed put off by his flirtatious nature. After hearing he tried a possible coup against Graham, Alan is glad he's gone.
Jan Van Gent: Alan had worked with guys like him before. They were always assholes, and they were always looking for a chance to blow you away to take your share of the creds.
Joshua Ray: Alan found a kindred spirit in Ray, and he enjoyed his time with him. Bonding over sarcasm and never opening up to one another. Alan thought of him as an almost friend because of that.
Penelope Maverick: She was cute, in the spunky female reporter kind of way. Alan's happy she's not hear risking her neck in combat now. Better off chasing scoops than getting shot at by ion rifles.
Yeshua Horowitz: 16. The same age Alan was when he got his surgery. Alan kept his distance from the quiet boy, seeing him as something terrifying. A lost childhood, gone in burning smoke and corpses. |
8,101 | 215 | 16 | 1,524 | 552 | V E R A
Corridors, New Anchorage
]
Vera wasn’t sure if they’d been running for seconds or minutes. Fear had a strange way of stringing out time, dragging out the slightest of instants, passing days like blinks, Vera had felt it leading up to her surgery, and she felt it much more potently now. Their footsteps were like alarms, and she worried each one might catch the attention of someone looking to make it their last, but she dared not to voice it. Madison for the time being had lived this side of the facility, surely she knew what she was doing, where she was going. Perhaps they’d barricade themselves in the wards, but then what about the others? Maybe there was an armory of sorts this way, though she’d never heard of it, and she wasn’t likely to prove well with a weapon anyway.
Her confidence waned in what she felt couldn’t have been more than a minute, and she found herself tugging against Madison’s grip before she even had words ready. At this point she figured it might just be best to wing it.
”Madi--Madi! Wait we— where’re we going?”
”I don’t know!!! Everyone just started screaming, they were all running, there were shots being fired, and now they’re all dead!” Madison’s frantic speech was just pure fear. She just wanted to run away, she didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, she didn’t want to feel any more pain, she didn’t want to die.
Vera realized quickly that her faith in Madison, while certainly optimistic, might have been momentarily misplaced. Could she blame her? She was right. People were screaming, people were running, and as much as she wanted to put it out of her mind, people were dying.
It took some effort, and even more to make the assertive action gentle, but she managed to pull Madison to a halt, if only for a moment. There were no bullets flying by their heads right then, no screams for them to put their hands up, or otherwise worse, it wasn’t a peaceful moment, but it was still, still enough to think. She tried to pull a mental map from her memory, but got nowhere, she hadn’t spent enough time wandering in the dark, even if she’d made an early habit of exploring.
Madison dropped to the ground and curled herself up, wrapping her hands around her knees and leaning against the cold wall. She didn’t want to deal with this anymore, she didn’t want to keep running for her life. Slowly, the tears started to well up under her eyes as reality began to hit her hard.
“Alright we just gotta...just think what’s down that way? You came from the hospital place, so…” It came slowly, but nonetheless, staring down the dark corridor, eyes well-adjusted enough to make out patterns in doorways she’d meandered down plenty of times before, especially in recent weeks, Vera understood where they were.
“Lofgren!” She only just managed to hold her voice to only a whisper. “Okay, I know where we are! A little!”
Looking down, Vera saw that Madison had collapsed, and her heart skipped a beat. Was she hit? Dead? No, if only as a faint, murky blur she could see the other girl’s form shuddering with breath, and soon after could hear the faint beginnings of a crying spell. Casting another glance behind them, she got low once again and settled her hands atop Madison’s knees, craning her neck for an angle that let her meet eyes. Vera had no illusions about understanding how to handle every type of panic attack, every bout of anxiety or stress induced shutdown, but for the moment it didn’t matter, she didn’t need to, she couldn’t. Right now they needed to keep going, it was her fault they’d stopped in the first place, but now they needed to go.
It took a moment for her to work the tremor out of her voice, another to make sure it stayed down, but at length she managed to turn her hushed, hurried whisper into a familiar, gentle murmur.
“Madi? Hey, it’s okay—”
Madison gave a short nod and reluctantly agreed with her.
“— we’re okay. We’re gonna be okay, I promise.” Vera gave Madison’s knees a firm grip, more to prove she was there than anything, that there was someone else present. “I know right now you really don’t wanna keep going, it’s okay, I’m scared too, but we’re almost safe, okay? Right down there, we’re gonna go down there and find someone, and we’ll be safe, I promise. Can you do that?”
Though she asked, Vera knew that it rarely enough to leave it up to the other person. She got to her feet, moving to take Madison’s hands with hers, and gently pulled up. “Just down there, c’mon, you can do that I know you can.”
Madison could feel herself gradually being pulled out of her small slump. It wasn’t nearly enough to make the day better but the comfort of knowing that someone was there made all the difference.
”Just down there?” she motioned towards the end of the hallway.
Vera felt a wave of relief, the first step was the toughest. She smiled, nodding and pointing with her. ”Not even— not even. See, almost right there.”
They were up. Good. Running would have been the best, but she’d take it. Vera heard another distant round of gunfire and knew if they took too long her promises wouldn’t hold too much. At least their walk was quickly-paced, and she had no trouble keeping Madison’s remaining hand clutched tight, or at least tight as a girl her size could.
She watched the doors as they passed by and was glad to see that she’d been right. This was Lofgren’s hall, and they came up to her office before long, but that was only half the battle. Vera hesitated for another agonizingly long moment, debating whether or not to knock. If Lofgren wasn’t there, no harm, but the potential for the room to be occupied otherwise was far from small. The door could open to rifle fire and the next wave of screams could be theirs.
In the back of her mind she could hear her own panic bubbling up.
’You can’t keep stopping, you’ll be running on luck.’
Once again, the very real, very nearby terrors jolted her from thought and forced her to act, only she wasn’t given the time. The door opened, and while it wasn’t to a group of angry soldiers, they were met with faint lights and the barrels of guns. Vera gasped and pushed herself close to Madison. If she’d had the thought to scream, she might have done just that.
The weak light moved away from her eyes, towards the ground, allowing her to see the faces of Dr. Lofgren and Orry. The boy’s silhouette had jumped in time with Vera’s, but his expression now was one of immense relief, a smile on his face; he almost looked like he wanted to hug the two girls.
”Are you two okay?” He asked quietly, taking a shaky step into the doorway as he quickly glanced down the hall.
“Orry, Lof!” Vera would have hugged them as well if she didn’t have Madison’s hand held within her own. She instead settled for a relieved grin, and an exhale that made her feel pounds lighter. “We’re okay yeah, we came from, uh, down there, the place where Madi was.”
Vera looked to the other girl, a brief sadness flashing through her. “I think everyone else that way is… but we don’t know. We just ran. Is it safe in there? Madi needs to sit down.”
“It won’t be safe for much longer; our intruders will be upon us soon enough, and I’m not going to be an easy target if I can help it.”
It’d been a long-shot anyway, but Vera was let down all the same, partly for herself and partly for Madison. She eased her grip, patted her hand, then looked back to Orry and Lofgren. “We gotta find somewhere to go then, hide somewhere, right?”
“Correct. There’s a service tunnel a few meters northward, near the base of the medical wards. We get the doors opened manually or we get cornered like rats before they kill us. We will need to be quick and decisive.”
Orry bit the corner of his lip, his concerned, darting gaze—which had settled on the frayed-looking Madison for a moment—moved back to the depths of the hallway, towards the nearest sounds of violence. He seemed reluctant to be moving anywhere, but he nodded quickly following Lofgren’s words.
”Let’s go then, please.” He said tightly, as though trying hard not to let his voice crack. He stepped out into the hall, moving to bring up the rear of the small group and let Lofgren lead.
Vera nodded along with him. Lofgren’s stark words were as jarring as they were painfully true, they needed to be moving sooner than later. She turned to Madi, again to meet eyes with her, and again smiled softly.
“We can’t stop quite yet, we’re gonna follow them, alright?” Gently pulling along a lead, Vera meant to coax her through once more. She’d promised safety, and even if it was delayed, at least now their chances of actually finding it were much better now. Orry seemed to be steeling himself, and Lofgren didn’t show any cracks at all - as good a pair as any to find, given their circumstances. Madison did not look as if she was having the best of days by any stretch of the imagination. | Elizabeth “Eli” Jackspar
"It's a knife, it doesn't have a story."
(Art courtesy of )
C A L L S I G NBlur
N C O R I G I NSmith’s Rest (Now called New Anchorage)
D.O.B.May 1st 2656 (21)
G E N D E RFemale
A P P E A R A N C EEli is pale as a ghost, chalky from hair to toe, most wouldn’t hesitate to describe her as “haunting”. However, what people tend to notice first about her are her eyes. Icy, both in color and gaze, she always appears to be judging her surroundings, be they people or otherwise, and it’s rare that they hold even a glimmer of levity in public view. Rarer still are smiles, laughs, slouches, but an attentive eye wouldn’t struggle to spot wayward twitches, restless legs, and tapping fingers.
Her attire leans towards casual however, often wearing hooded jackets and rarely caught without a scarf worn high up her chin. Beneath everything is the pilot suit, worn near constantly. She’d claim this as common sense, practical for quick response, but she’s as attached to the piece as her own skin.
P E R S O N A L I T YCold and dismissive to all but her superiors, but unerringly dutiful and devoted to the protection of New Anchorage. Elizabeth is a good soldier, a great soldier even, but little else. Growing up in what was essentially a broken down building full of books, and rarely being permitted to leave, shaped Eli at a young age less like a person and more like a lump of clay. She feels no sense of loss for any would-be social life, no sorrow for being deprived a childhood, only a sense of duty, and a longing for the fulfillment of that duty.
The protection of New Anchorage is without a doubt the most important thing to Eli, and anything that could be perceived as a threat to the people of her home should not be tolerated. It didn’t matter that she’d met none of them, it didn’t matter that until she stepped into her mech next to no one even knew she existed, what mattered was defending her home from all threats, foreign and domestic.
It did not become apparent until her teenage years that Eli had developed identity issues, though any outward eyes could have foreseen it. This is only heightened by a high sync-rate, something the girl is silently but immensely thankful for. When connected to her mech, and only then, does Eli feel certain of herself, like she’s stepped out of her constricting, ill-fitting skin. No doubts, no twitches, no shakes, only a unification of mind and body. And so, the inevitable disconnection never fails to leave her mentally ajar, a fact that would be unmistakably evident were she not so good at hiding it.
S K I L L S E T
CQC: Both in and out of the mech, this is Elizabeth’s strongest skill. Growing up without the means to practice with firearms, she learned quick and learned well to trust her two hands and what she could swing with them. Eventually this translated much more elegantly into a form of swordplay in anticipation of a melee-oriented NC piloting career, and so her prowess with most things what can be held and cut with is highly refined. Unfortunately, if not predictably, she is untrained and unskilled with guns, having only operated a firearm outside of her mech, and in the context of a test.
Reflexive: Elizabeth is quick, both in body and mind. While this doesn’t necessarily equate to a proficiency in tactics, she is able to form appropriate reactions in combat, and in prolonged engagements –especially in close quarters– is able to begin analyzing offensive and defensive patterns in her opponent.
Driven: Perhaps not explicitly a skill, but doubtless one of her most notable traits. Elizabeth does not shy from completing a mission or fulfilling an order, be it in combat or otherwise. Her fierce loyalty combined turn many scenarios to “do or die” in her mind, something that, while sometimes advantageous, can be equally dangerous.
B A C K S T O R Y ”Eli”
Eli was eight years old when she learned her name was short for “Elizabeth”. Her mother, the librarian recluse Celina Jackspar, had used it once, the first time she’d cried during her training.
”Get up, Elizabeth. Now. And never cry in front of me again.” And she never did.
The Jackspars might have been lepers for how little they interacted with the world. Confined to a modestly sized “library” nestled in the corner of what was then “Smith’s Rest”, few ever visited, and fewer were actually aware the spindly woman had a child. With little to their name aside from cases and piles of books, collected from far and unspoken edges, it would not have been unreasonable to assume the family would contribute nothing great to the world. They would exist quietly amidst a sea of old knowledge, and overtime the Jackspar name would peter out.
Celina would not allow such an outcome.
The training began early, and never slackened. Eli learned from a young age what she was, and would be, that the good majority of her life would be spent inside the cockpit of a mechanical behemoth. She did not attend school, she did not socialize with peers, she rarely left the library at all. Her life was dedication, she had to let go of the urges to want, and focus entirely on the future.
”Up.” And she got up.
The Jackspars could afford no firearms, and so forewent practicing them. Instead it was decided that Eli would master the art of melee combat in their absence. Lyosha Voloshyna, a carpenter and one of the family’s only “friends”, happily supplied them with wooden models of various swords, ranging from the typical and familiar, to the foreign and unique.
Eli was made to train with them day in and day out. They would not be weapons held, they would be extensions of her own body, or she would fall short. Countless other prospective pilots had the advantage of proper training, they could afford to be merely “adequate” so long as they rounded out a checklist and passed the neural exam.
”I don’t want you on-par, I want you better. Keep going.” And she would.
Hour after hour Eli practiced, submitting herself to the forms and tests of balance. By the time she was in her middle teens, picking up a sword felt like raising her hand, swinging felt like punching. Her threshold for pain was pushed further each day, and every time she kept her mouth shut, kept her face calm, she would catch the ghost of a smirk flicker over her mother’s face. Moving had become a dance, and she was the prima.
When she was fifteen, a practice sword broke in her hand, splintering midway down the blade. It was old, nothing unexpected, and the shattering caused her no physical harm. All the same Eli froze, wide eyes fixated on the broken blade, and her arm, then the girl collapsed in a fit of agony.
Celina watched, shocked.
”Get up.” But she didn’t. ”Elizabeth, get. Up.” But she couldn’t. It took all of her strength not to cry.
It was her first major incident, and the only one Celina ever saw. It took a few years to realize they weren’t going to stop, and seeking professional psychiatric help would murder Eli’s chances at becoming a pilot, so Celina resolved to handle the situation in her own way.
Eli knew Eli. Celina knew Elizabeth.
”Stop shaking.” And she would.
The final years leading up to application were smooth by Celina’s standards. Her daughter was sharp, fast, resilient, and above all, obedient. She would protect Smith’s Rest, she would protect its people, and she would do so under the instruction of whosoever commanded the forces.
Second to her, of course.
T H E M E C H
The Blur is a lightweight NC that mirrors many of its pilot’s features. Stark white with only a few wayward cerulean lights and the bright azures of its jets to stand out, of standard height but slight of frame and thinly armored. It is clear at a glance that Blur is not built to receive much punishment, which is just fine by Eli.
Blur is an embodiment of the “high-risk-high-reward” philosophy. With its primary function being the melee engagement of high-priority targets, many of its maneuvers, both combative and evasive, necessitate a near-reflexive sync rate, and even then it’s rare for the NC to emerge from solo engagements unharmed. In reality, Blur is designed to work alongside a team and is often even dependent on one, despite that the pilot may deny it. Its standard armaments are as follows:
NA01 Energy Sword: Blur’s primary weapon, the blade is projected from the handle. A contingency, physical blade, carried onboard, can be attached as well with edges able to sustain similar heat.
Deployable Claws: Blurs fingers are overlaid by sharp attachments designed to latch on and stay on. Can be activated and retracted.
Explosive Charges: For breach scenarios and other situations that require the close-proximity planting of explosives. Housed in two separate pieces to prevent accidental detonations due to trauma/weapon fire.
Its notable equipment is as follows:
OMNI Propulsion System: Blur's key assets are speed and maneuverability and these owe largely to the propulsion system which served as the foundation for the NC's design. Four powerful engines on Blur's back act as the central piece, sleek and jutting like stagnant wings. Firing at once they allow for rapid acceleration and a tremendous peak-speed. As well, each can adjust direction independently, which, in addition to the thrusters at the base of Blur's legs, grant the NC fantastic directional control.
Flare Cache: Typical of any evasive NC, but nonetheless crucial, Blur houses a small volley of deployable flares.
R E L A T I O N S
Vera Voloshyna: While never officially adopted by the Jackspars, Elizabeth considers Vera both a sister, and her closest friend. She knew the younger girl from early childhood, and, during her troubles, found a sole solace in Vera’s company. To this day, Eli is a different person when around her, as though Vera’s kind and caring nature has molded what little of her Celina has left untouched.
Stein Kalfox: A notable addition to the troop originally working under Sophia, Elizabeth respects Stein as a skilled pilot, and admires her work ethic. She brings a degree of discipline to what can at times be an embarrassing display. However, the girl’s deep Volkov roots make her more than an outsider, they make her a dangerous outsider, and one that Eli is glad to call an ally, but wary of all the same.
Percy Moore: Elizabeth’s opinion on Percy has shifted over time. His position among the first group has instilled in her a sense of trust, but at the same time she’s come to understand that attempting to predict his actions is a fruitless endeavor. More recently she’s come to respect him and his resolve, especially after passing Graham’s Ultimatum, and though there seems to be a general consensus that he is either unfit to pilot or is otherwise unequipped, she can’t help but harbor a morbid assurance that he is among the most dangerous of New Anchorage’s group.
John “Jingo” Strange: Another pilot Eli has a degree of trust for purely by virtue of experience. They've fought together alongside the first wave of SR pilots for the benefit of her home, and while she sees him as odd and perhaps distracting to the focus of the group, she'd rather him than a stranger.
Madison Cole: Despite having served with her in Smith’s Rest’s first NC group, Elizabeth interacted little with Madison outside of combat. She remembers her as a competent pilot, if hot-headed, and remembers with no small degree of guilt her suggestion to leave the girl behind in favor of completing their mission. Regardless, she maintains that Madison would make a good addition to the team again when she recovers.
Agatha Smith: The eldest pilot by a fair margin, Eli has had wary eyes on Agatha from her first day. Is she too old to do her job, or too good to be trusted? Agatha is one of the few that Eli has directly expressed her caution to, as well as her respect. She’s certain no one can survive in their field without a purpose, and whatever Agatha’s is, Eli can at least commend her for persevering. Of course, respect is not complacency.
Tahlia Styles: Among the second wave of pilots was the stark and strong Tahlia Styles, a woman Eli hasn’t known long enough to get enough of a gauge on, despite seeing her relatively often. Her apparent skill as a pilot on further fuels a familiar distrust that overpowers most feelings Eli has on Tahlia.
Ryn Dradht: Loud, rash, and horrible for moral –something Eli cares admittedly little for, but nonetheless– Ryn is not what she considers a “great” addition to the team at face value. However how she acts out of her NC is not important compared to her ability to pull her own weight in combat and stay loyal, and as long as those fields are met, Eli’s just as glad to keep her mouth shut.
Ordent Callaway: Quiet, but not quite in the troubling way. Eli doesn’t have much to say about the new pilot, except that she’s not sure she trusts him to defend New Anchorage on skills alone, not even going into what she might think of him as a person.
Alan Fouren: Eli isn’t sure what Alan’s deal is. At first she assumed his enlistment was some sort of joke she wasn’t getting; he doesn’t act like a soldier, his mech is a shambling mismatched monster, and he only just scraped by Graham’s tests. Does he expect an easy job? A quick paycheck? Either he’s an incompetent fool, or he’s holding back, and Eli isn’t about to put up with either.
Michael Graham: Celina’s only fear when she sent Elizabeth off was how she would adjust to a change in authority. Thankfully she reacted well, finding a comfort and even mentor figure in Sophia, which made the woman’s eventual desertion strike that much harder. So, to put it simply, Eli doesn’t like Graham. She respects him, his word, she heeds him as a strong leader and soldier, and on the basis of her enlistment could not fathom disobeying him, but she doesn’t for a moment trust him.
Celina Jackspar: Elizabeth’s mother, and the one responsible for the young woman’s development. Eli holds her mother in higher regard than any other, and follows her commands as though they were her own thoughts. Though this relationship is kept subtle and secret whilst the two are apart, together there is little doubt that the girl is utterly subservient and perhaps even inwardly terrified of her mother. |
8,102 | 215 | 17 | 1,409 | 1,959 | A G A T H A
NC Pilot Barracks, New Anchorage CC
]
Despite the horrific odds the were likely stacked against the motley crew of poorly armed pilots, Agatha had a feeling they were going to turn out alright. She sidled up beside the left door, back pressed against cool steel as her finger slipped inside the guard and caressed the trigger of her sidearm. There was comfort in armament, and protection in a hardened wall, but more than anything else the aged lioness found assurance in the skill of her squad mates. Agatha knew that Stein didn’t share her thoughts on the roles of leadership even if she was proving her point with the level headed direction she offered in their time of crisis.
Eli came forward with a succinct declaration of two pilots absent, revealing yet another child was somewhere out there in harm’s way. The savage grin working its way across her face abated and turned into a taut line that was more appropriate to the situation.
”Look Eli, I’m sure that Vera just went to the bathroom or maybe saw a doctor for post surgery discomfort. Tahlia, well, a woman who smells like a smoke box is probably doing as she does.”
The look Agatha received in return said enough, it was clear Eli wasn’t about to leave it at assumptions. The frigid girl looked on, as though trying to glare through the wall and see the restrooms, the offices, the halls in all. A brief scowl flickered over her face, sour but sure, something was clawing at her, something nigh unnegotiable.
It was brief moments like this that Agatha had to wonder why there were so many mothers among the pilots, Eli being as good a birth mother to Vera as Agatha was to her own kids. Agatha would have been liable to skin her husband alive if he took the girls out for ice cream without telling her beforehand, so empathy abounded for the tensed knife aficionado.
”And by all that is decent in this world, give us a call out before you close in with that knife. If I wind up shooting you in the back outside of VR i’d never be able to look Vera in the eye again.” Agatha spat out, recalling their first squad VR simulation together. It was remarkably similar to their current scenario, barring that there were now very real consequences for their actions and if Eli were to come down with a sudden case of tunnel vision then she’s liable to step into heat from the wrong direction. I swear those two were glaring at me for days after that. Kind of adorable if they weren’t doing it to me.
Again Eli gave her a look, less narrowed but hinting at incredulity, like she was almost offended at the idea. ”I won’t stab you unless you give me a reason to.”
Agatha smothered a chuckle, assuming this was Eli’s attempt at humor. She watched Alan’s group leave out the right without being perforated in the process and reckoned they’d be good on their end. As Stein hit the manual release and pulled the door open she had her Tenormin leveled on the left side, ready for anything. “Clear.”
“Keep your eyes open — it’s dark, but we aren’t blind.”
The eldest pilot stepped into the hall, swiftly crossing to press herself against the wall and creep down to the corner, sidearm ready for anyone that may approach as she peeked around. ”Clear.”
With no enemies in her sights she motioned for Eli and Stein to move forward while she covered their rear. As mobile as she may have been in the Charon, on foot it was better to leave pointman duty to the young woman who could react far more quickly. That Eli had a knife rather than a handgun, and had abysmal accuracy in comparison to the others present, was why Agatha thought she made the best pointman with Stein nestled safely between them.
Into the darkness they went, steel bared in defiance of the intruders upon their home. They hoped they wouldn't encounter the enemy before they linked up at the armory, but the distant staccato of weapon’s fire told her otherwise. | Agatha Smith
“"Well, better get to working or get to dying. Time ain't with any of us."
C A L L S I G NCharon
N C O R I G I NDenver-Vegas
D - O - B05 / 24 / 2619 (58)
G E N D E RFemale
A P P E A R A N C EStanding at 5’6”, Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weight lifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit.
P E R S O N A L I T YAgatha is a restless woman who finds there is no worse fate than finding yourself without purpose. Give’s 110% percent to everything she does, and is a strong proponent of clean living, or as clean as one can get outside the burrows. Carries herself with a wizened air of experience that comes with age, not book smarts. Could be described as desperate in search for a cause, desperate enough to come to Anchorage.
Doesn't acknowledge her own bitterness with having settled down and giving up on piloting. Feels like she lost out on something important, but can't besmirch her husbands memory or their daughters to disregard their lives together as unimportant.
Her time in New Anchorage preparing for the Ultimatum had reawakened her maternal instincts, prompting her to attach herself to Stein and be empathetic towards Commander Graham who's past relationship, brief as it was, led to amicable interactions. From her years of experience as a mercenary travelling the world, Agatha has met a wide variety of pilots and had spent ample time in her retirement analyzing her past glory to the point she orders people into 'types'.
S K I L L S E T
Experience: Unlike the majority of NC pilots who range from the ages of 12 to 24, Agatha has lived a full life inside and out of the NC. Her career sent her all over the world, and in retirement she never stopped operating the Charon, offering up a wealth of experience and comfort operating her Neural Combatant as though it were a second skin. More than that though is the knowledge of how to live without combat, something most of the pilots at New Anchorage lack. Out of the NC, she hasn't been a slouch and allowed her edge to dull too much. Basic fire arms training with D.E.W. hand guns and revolvers, as well as a challenging work out regime, kept her in working order even as she passed the prime of her life.
Junkyard Proprietor: Thirty years of scrambling over heaps of rusted metal and the debris left in her junkyard has given her a knack for navigating obstacles without issue. Her husband taught her how to perform maintenance upon Charon without the need for a mechanic, knowledge that she passed onto her children as well.
In Love with the Lifestyle: Agatha has desperately missed the life of an NC pilot, and understands everything that is required to be apart of it. She follows orders, pushes herself and the others around her, and doesn't possess the naivety that blinds younger pilots to the horrors of their work. Her mothering nature may come into conflict with this at times, but more often then not she is eager to be employed.
Mothering Nature: Agatha gave up her career to commit herself to raising her two daughters, and while they may have gone to live their lives, Agatha can't help but be a mothering sort around young woman. She reaches out to connect with them, as well as finding it easier to empathize with the parents she now works with barring one notable exception.
B A C K S T O R YBorn and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren’t worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, ‘Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them’.
Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn’t particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman.
For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn’t the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time.
Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep.
That left Agatha, with a job she didn’t care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn’t. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn’t any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way.
T H E M E C H
Charon
Moderately armored bipedal NC specialized towards ease of movement and relocation. Meant to be a Sniper who repositions with each shot and endeavors to flank an enemy rather than engage from extreme long range at a stationary position. The armor isn't enough for front line combat, but is sufficient to keep Charon active while exposed during relocation. Strategically positioned thrusters were integrated into the Charon frame to allow the NC to launch itself airborne while maintaining a great degree of maneuverability. Prolonged flight is not possibly, though thrusters can negate the force of most falls or collisions.
The cockpit features an optimized targeting suite supplemented by a secondary chest mounted array. It contributes in compensating for the force of Charon's airborn maneuvers so Agatha can fire with accuracy befitting her role, and offers a variety of optical viewing modes such as thermal, night vision, infrared, and advanced magnification. Targeting information gathered by Charon is transmitted to other units of the fire team automatically unless disengaged.
PXS-8.0 'Opticor' Super Heavy Laser Rifle: Charon's primary weapon, a Semi-Automatic laser rifle of considerable firing power. Carries a 12 shot charge before overheating and operates at long to extreme ranges with full efficiency. Being a D.E.W. (Directed Energy Weapon) it is free of the deviation and travel times inherent in ballistic weapons, but has a considerably smaller magazine that must cool down before safe to fire.
Right Arm- Tenormin 44LZ 'Revolver': Stored within the Charon's right arm, the Tenormin is a D.E.W. revolver that packs a excellent stopping power for its size, but it limited to 6 shots before recharging. The original Tenormin design was limited to a single, high powered shot until the revolving power cell was added to the design to create a potent sidearm with a nostalgic flare. Agatha carries a scaled down version of this weapon as well.
Agatha's Variant
Left Arm- Smoke Mortar: Stored within the Charon's left arm, the smoke mortar provides concealment for allies and blinds adversaries depending on where it is fired. The Charon's optics can pierce the smoke, allowing it to operate without hindrance. 3 Canisters on board.
R E L A T I O N S (Updated as Agatha interacts)
Anastasia “Stein” Kalfox: Agatha considers Stein to be the Ace among the pilots at New Anchorage, and has since set her as the bench mark for performance that she should aspire to. The young woman's cold personality doesn't dissuade Agatha from reaching and finding common ground in the pursuit of physical perfection. It was apparent to her that Stein lacked a maternal figure in her life, and Agatha is hoping to bridge that gap over time.
Comm. Michael Graham: A former adversary that now serves as her superior. Ironically the first major battle of his career was the last of hers, an incident that amuses the both of them. In her eyes, Graham is a solid commander and a decent father, so she has no issue with the man. He understands the way the world works and isn't afraid to put an ingrate in their place, which Agatha greatly appreciates.
Elizabeth Jackspar: Not much is known about Elizabeth beyond Agatha's own assumptions of her, but Agatha looks on her favorably. The shared experience of raising a child, even if Vera isn't Elizabeth's daughter, is something Agatha thinks they share and commiserates in it. Would be willing to help her with Vera or anything NC related if asked, and is remarkably impressed how well Elizabeth has done on her own so far.
Percy Moore: Can barely look at the man without waning to rearrange his face. Believes he is a spineless coward who's too weak to stand up for his own children. Wouldn't trust him not to miss and shoot her out on sortie, and is amazed he managed to pass the commander's tests. Believes he is the worst parent in all of New Anchorage for the moment.
Tahlia Styles: Likes the Australian for her blunt nature. Her initial exchange with the deceased Pilot Sky, whose attempted coup became the stuff of legend around the water cooler, has left Agatha feeling she can trust Tahlia to get the job done when they sortie.
Vera Voloshyna and Ana Moore: Can't help but be amazed at how brave the two girls are. Has to resist the urge to hug the both of them, and thinks they are good influences on Stein and Elizabeth. Would offer to give them pointers on NC maintenance and operation between sorties now that the testing phase is complete. |
8,103 | 215 | 18 | 1,318 | 425 | P E R C Y
Corridors, New Anchorage CC
]
What. The fuck. Was I thinking?
The group hadn’t even stepped out of the hallway and Percy could already feel his heart rate go up exponentially. There was an awfully pressing knowledge that he could very well die right now, or any time within the minutes it would take to get to the elevator shaft. There was a knowledge weighing down on him that he could very well die and leave Ana all alone in this crazy world. There was also a knowledge that if he did die, she might very well end up in his mech. She can sync, so it’s only a matter of time before they shove her in the pilot’s seat due to his fuck-ups.
Percy thought maybe he’d be able to cope better than this, but... obviously not. He glanced back at the two engineers behind him, as well as the two soldiers accompanying them down the corridor. Percy tried to smile to ease the tension he felt in the air, but judging by the looks on their faces, it didn’t do much, if anything. He quickly turned back to the seemingly never-ending void in front of him, squinting to try to look for movement before he flicked the datatool’s screen on, wincing as the light momentarily blinded him. Of course it was jacked up to max, because why would it be at a reasonable setting?
With another short glance to the four behind him, who were beginning to look impatient - maybe even doubtful - he swiftly opened the marked blueprints. It really was not that far, but, with a second look forward, it felt like the hallway before them was an infinitely expanding darkness that could; and would; trap the five of them inside. He took a moment to breathe, then he turned the brightness down as low as he could before silently gesturing for the group to follow.
Percy walked slow and kept his body lowered as he led to what he prayed wouldn’t be their combined death. It was a straight shot as long as they didn’t have to do any maneuvering around any enemy soldiers.
Another scream echoed through the corridors as the sound of gunfire became the “soundtrack” to the morning and the tension eased back into each person’s relative concern that their last footsteps around the next corner could be their last. There were only five of them clustered together as they made their way towards the lifts, armed with some degree of firearm; the soldiers held assault rifles, though their clips had seen some depletion, and Percy as well as the two other engineers had handguns at the ready. With every single step the pilot took, he became more and more aware of just how insane he must be to not have left. He had every ability to do so, and he hadn’t. He couldn’t really leave now, of course; partially because he had no idea if there were people waiting outside, and partially because he had a self-given mission that he couldn’t leave unfinished.
Despite the fact Percy had felt like he had no real attachments or friendly relations with anyone; however, in actuality, he would clearly know that he did. Eli, Jingo, Vera, Orry.. Hell, even Stein and Agatha, in a very minor, purely “they’re my squad-mates” way. He couldn’t live with knowing he ditched them and, in this case, literally left them in the dark. It was something that took him back, and while it was a bit silly to think like he did - given the situation he lived in every day now - he felt that once you turned the light on, all of the scary “monsters” would become secondhand news.
However, he realized it wouldn’t be so simple to do so when the sound of gunfire echoed closer to the group. A sound that couldn’t have been more than a corridor away from them. Another scream followed it before it was silenced— just thinking about it sent shivers down his spine.
Just keep going. Don’t listen to it. Don’t even think about it.
Funny enough, telling himself to not listen or think about it just made him listen harder and think even more about it. He barely kept his thoughts focused and breathing steady as he guided the group through an intersecting hallway. Percy thought to check the map briefly, but realized just as quickly it wouldn’t be a smart idea - someone might be able to see the light, even if it was barely there.
The Chief Engineer put his hand on Percy’s shoulder before he let out a hushed mutter, “Forward a few. Let’s go.”
“Didn’t plan on stopping,” Percy mumbled back with a brief smile as he continued to lead.
It was hard to tell if it took ages or mere seconds before they finally got to their destination, but Percy didn’t care either way. They made it with absolutely zero unwanted interruptions from the enemy. The pilot was tempted to laugh from the relief he felt, but he knew they weren’t done. They had to get down there, now.
“Anyone have a grappling hook?” Percy asked sarcastically, glancing to the four.
“I have my whole toolkit, actually,” Katarina mentioned in reply as she began to tinker with her utility belt; thus giving the thought to wonder if the woman slept with her base equipment? Well, at least that was one useful thing about their precarious situation as the closed doors of the lifts looked as foreboding in the near-darkness of the corridors. They needed to get the manual release open and pry the steel doors apart before they could worry about descending several floors down. Based on the little he knew, Percy understood that the manual release wouldn’t be too different than the others in every room in the base.
It didn’t take long at all for him to get the grating off, it took even less time to do the simple pull and twist, and it didn’t take but a moment to actually get the doors open. He curiously glanced down the shaft only to regret it - that is a long, long, long way down. Or maybe it only looks that way because it’s so dark. For all he knew, it was one level down, or a hundred levels down. Both would cause agonizing pain, if not immediate death.
“In all seriousness,” Percy turned to look at Kat, “do you have anything that could help us get down there without, y’know, dying?
“There’s a grapple line I can clip that we can use as a makeshift rope, actually.”
Percy opened his prosthetic hand for Kat to give it to him.
Kat smirked as she retrieved a device from her belt and placed it at the base of the doorway leading into the elevator shaft rather than ‘hand’ it over to Percy, a wry smile on her lips as she did such before pressing a button that dropped a synthetic mesh rope of sorts. “We’re only going down to the bottom, since power is the absolute last floor.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Percy said as he crouched down to give the rope a firm tug, just to make sure it wouldn’t come off.
“Anyway, don’t let go; would be kind of a bad fall if you did. This device can hold up to one half ton of weight, so we’re probably good. Hold on tight.”
Percy allowed himself a moment to breathe before he made his way down. | Percy Moore
"I really should've just become an engineer."
C A L L S I G NPapa Mike
N C O R I G I NFairbanks
D - O - BNovember 12, 2645 (32)
G E N D E RMale
A P P E A R A N C EHe doesn't come off as someone who would even dream of piloting an NC, being 5'8", a little over 160 pounds, freckle-faced, red-headed, and wearing glasses, but.. Here he is. Piloting. When he first joined up, he walked around the place knowing that he didn't belong, but ever-so-slowly he's been getting a little more comfortable in his own skin. He's rarely if ever seen without two silver weddings rings on his left hand. One, which is on his little finger, was his wife's before she passed, and the other, on his ring finger, is his own. He fidgets with them sometimes.
Due to an attack on New Anchorage that he had a hand in helping in, he lost one. His right hand, actually. His right hand is now a nifty, shiny prosthetic one.
P E R S O N A L I T YTo put it simply... Damaged.
Paranoid, temperamental, overprotective, and always anxious for something to happen, he's really not the kind of guy you'd want to have in your squad unless you're alright with a possible mental breakdown in the middle of a firefight. Even though he's had the physical training, mental training is something else entirely and, in the old commander's words, he's the weak link in the chain that is the New Anchorage NC Pilot squad. If he wasn't a pilot and just an ordinary guy doing ordinary things, he'd very much be the stay at home dad doing his best to make ends meet. Hell, he WAS.
Behind all that, he's really just scared. He realized too late that he made possibly the worst choice he could have ever made and he hates that his daughter's just getting dragged along for the ride. He's dragging her down to his level and he despises himself for it, but he doesn't know what else he could do. He's in the game and he can't back out now.
S K I L L S E TMarksman: While technically that's a bit of an overstatement, he knows how to fire a multitude of firearms, including a basically obsolete pistol that's been passed down for generations that, while he'd rather keep on his person at all times, he's required to keep in the firing range.
Dad: He is a father, and a rather good one at that. Because of this, he has a bit of a paternal drive that makes him a bit protective of the younger members... Plus he's chock-full of god-awful dad jokes
Jack-of-all-Trades: He's not specifically trained for any one thing, he knows a few things, and he'd be willing to learn more if it was necessary.
Wildcard: He honestly is very much unaware of this, but others notice it about him. Due to him being a big unhinged, it's possible he could disobey orders or act out in some way that can't be predicted by normal people.
B A C K S T O R Y
Born and raised in New Anchorage - or, as he grew up knowing it, Smith's Rest - he knew, even at a young age, he didn't have much going for him. It was a little rinky dink town in bum-fuck nowhere, Alaska, and the only valuable career was owning the engineering guild. He had no interest in mechanics, and he had no clue where he'd be able to go if he did leave, so he stayed and did what his parents before him had done before - whatever jobs he could find to keep food on the table. Some days he'd be fixing (more accurately, further breaking) people's mechanical necessities, others he'd be selling meats he hunted himself, and others still he'd be trying to help a doctor or a teacher do their job. He could never keep a steady job, nor was he skilled enough in any one thing to keep doing one thing for a while. His interests waxed and waned and, admittedly, he was restless. He had this gut feeling there was more for him but he just couldn't get out. Some unknown thing was calling his name and he wanted to chase it.
But then he met Laura White. It wasn't the most romantic of first meetings - she and some guy were doing some heavy lifting and Percy was "in the gotdamn way" - but the second meeting went much better, and just as accidental. They were both at the same parts store looking for materials - Laura trying to locate a specific kind of screwdriver, and Percy looking more out of leisure than necessity. They both ended up finding a budding friendship instead, exchanging contact information and eventually getting married.
Things didn't stay kittens and rainbows for long, because Laura got pregnant. The both of them being in their mid 20s, Percy was adamant about NOT having this child so they could do more so then maybe they'd have more to share with this child down the road. Laura, however, was all about this child. She was insistent on it because she felt their relationship would just get tighter and stronger, and she felt like this would be her only real chance to ever have a child. They argued over the theoretical abortion until it would be legally and morally wrong to go through with it, but they managed to find more things to fight about. Money, Percy's lack of a stable job, and Laura's penchant for going out late late LATE into the night being only a few of them.
Not even a month after Ana's birth, Laura made a final stance by yanking her ring off and throwing it down while Percy was aggressively begging her to just stay home for one day because of a "gut feeling" he had. Their last words to each other weren't very nice ones, and Percy regrets it still eight years later.
He was a garbage father at first. He was always sleep deprived and he even resorted to some very questionable means of getting her to shut up for more than five minutes so he could rest. Again, Percy regrets many of the things he's done to her, and the 'reassurance' that she'd never remember them makes his stomach churn. He did these things for months before Zach came into his and Ana's life and made it so much easier.
"I'm only here because it's what Laura would have wanted."
He was just out and about - partly getting some much needed 'dad time' away from Ana, partly trying to figure out where he could apply for a job - when his eyes caught onto some posters stuck around town. Apparently NC Pilots were wanted. That didn't seem difficult. He's heard of some of the things NCs can do, and none of it seemed too awful. Heavy loads, mining, scouting.. That's all stuff he could handle, especially with what was a glorified robotic suit. He skimmed the poster, shocked by the many multiple digits in the estimated paycheck - it's more than he's ever made in his life. He signed up immediately, knowing that if he could handle just one little job, that'd be it. Get in, get out, be set for months, if not longer...
He had no idea just what he signed himself up for, nor did he have a clue just how wrong he was. After testing himself for compatibility - which was weird, given what he assumed - he came out positive and he was swiftly informed the surgery was going to be done within the next week.
"Alright, what's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"First I have to have this, this weird shampoo-y gunk all over my head, then I have to have a surgery? Just what the hell is going on?"
"You didn't read the whole poster, did you?"
"uh... Nnno? But-"
"You can't exactly back out now. We need whatever pilots we can get, and you just so happen to be one of them now. Your surgery is three days from now."
Due to a desperate decision on his part, he was shoved into the pilot's seat and was just expected to do well.. and, surprisingly, he did. Whether it be innate or luck it's hard to say. He assisted in the death of call-sign Rook, he helped pilot Jingo Strange with a train escort mission, and he helped defend against the assault of Smith's Rest (and lost his right hand) before a change in management changed the whole game.
Commander Michael Graham had run the whole squad through a much, much more extensive regimen that required them to be able to climb into an NC with absolutely no help other than their own two hands and feet - The Ultimatum, as Graham put it. Percy did succeed.. within the lower bracket. In the moment he was ecstatic and, frankly, made a fool of himself celebrating his victory, but after he calmed down, he realized that meant he was definitely stuck as a pilot. He's starting to doubt his ability to be a father to his daughter. If he really wanted what was best for her, he would have been trying to fail, not succeed. He is very much aware that he has plenty of money at this point - enough to last months, and he'd probably be able to live off that until he finally had a stable job. Why is he doing this? What is his motive at this point? Greed? Glory? Power? Is it just comfortable at this point?
"I don't know."
And so he stays.
T H E M E C H
While not as flashy or snazzy looking as the others surrounding it, the fact that it looks so relatively harmless in comparison to the others is a boon for a dangerous pilot. The element of surprise is an oft neglected one in a battlefield so attached to honor and fair fighting. While Percy's not exactly dangerous or the master of the element of surprise as of yet, there's no reason to think he might not become one, or both, of those things.
Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses)
• Stock neural computer
> There's a 'glitch' with the computer that doesn't affect anything, nor does it bother Percy, it's just kind of strange, considering how the neural net works - it's determined to call Percy Michael. Percy's tried to fix it, but he's scared he'd so some irreversible damage if he started taking it apart.
• Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed - best used to dodge out of the way
• Slightly above average generator
Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses)
• Auto Rifle - 35 rounds, mid-to-long range, can switch between full auto and single (right hand)
• Laser Sword - standard white in color, no special effects (left hand)
• Missile Launcher - 3 missile burst, long-range (left shoulder)
Percy is the second person to own the Papa Mike.
Before Percy, it belonged to a pilot named Michael Carpenter. On top of having a different call-sign (Bullfrog) it was designed to be much more of a bipedal tank than it is today. It had sturdy armor, twice the amount of missiles, and dual machine guns as well as a particularly strong radar and powerful quick-boost capabilities. It was quite the powerhouse, just like the man that piloted it. But also like the man, it supported its team more than it tried to damage the other person. Michael was like a father to his team, being both a shoulder to cry on and dishing out a firm talking-to if it was necessary. Michael was a beloved member of the team - so much so that it was decided to have his call-sign changed to something that fit his fatherly ways - Papa Mike.
He only had that call-sign for a few weeks before he ended up dying in the middle of a mission that ended up failing. They were forced to leave the NC for a day due to just how much better equipped the enemy was before they could retrieve their fallen comrade's body for burial, and the NC for repairs.
The team decided that the best course of action was not to just let it gather dust in their hangar, but for it to live on with a new pilot. It took them a while to find a group they felt could really live up to the call-sign, but the Papa Mike eventually ended up with the Smith's Rest team, then into Percy's hands.
Percy didn't know what exactly drew him to this specific NC - maybe the fact if you took the first letters, it was P.M., maybe it was how simple it looked, maybe it was fate, or destiny, or something else entirely, but he was drawn to it. Sitting in the cockpit for the first time to get all the calibration junk right felt.. Natural? Normal? When he asked about it, he was told it's just a pilot thing. He wasn't exactly satisfied with that answer, but he rolled with it.
R E L A T I O N Swill be added to and edited as the rp progresses
Jingo Strange: Absolutely adores the guy. Despite the fact that, at first, his mangled face threw Percy off and scared him away, Jingo's upbeat personality and boundless optimism drew him back in and they just clicked. Jingo's one of the very few people that Percy would be willing to trust to be alone in the same room as Ana, and that's really saying something.
Eli Jackspar: If he was asked, he'd call her a friend, but sometimes he doesn't think she feels the same. It's hard for him to read her and figure out if the feeling is mutual, but he treats her like he would a friend. When the news broke that Vera, which he knew Eli was caring for, was officially a pilot and just needed to get the NC needed, he nearly went off on her before he noticed she was just as shocked, maybe even more, so he still respects her as a fellow parent, almost.
Madison Cole: Given the fact that her's and Ana's personalities are so similar, plus the fact she looked like a young teenager (he figured out she was 22 later on) he admittedly felt an immediate parental drive to protect. He checked up on her the whole time she was in the infirmary, feeling like he was kind of obligated. He was also the first one to see her when she finally woke up from her comatose state.
Ordent Callaway: Other the the fact Orry's young, something about him makes Percy feel awfully protective. He doesn't know what exactly, but he just has the drive to make sure the kid's alright, and was probably one of the few people that tried to get close when Ordent only wanted people to stay away. He's not trying to be a hero to him, he's just concerned that something else might be going on. Percy wants to help however Ordent will let him.
Vera Voloshyna: The fact that she, a 13 year old girl, willingly became a pilot, shocks him. So much in fact that he's put a partial stop to Ana's and Vera's friendship - partial because they still see each other, but Percy is usually present and supervising the whole thing. He doesn't want Ana to become coerced by the older one into doing something that could potentially kill her. In the past, he'd happily leave the two kids alone together, but now... Not so much.
Joshua Ray: He's a sarcastic little shit and Percy can't help but laugh at some of the bull crap that comes out of his mouth. He and Joshua have definitely exchanged tacky dad jokes, despite the fact Joshua is, in fact, not a dad. He's probably also made Joshua cringe at before-mentioned tacky dad jokes, cause Percy's are just so, so bad.
Tahlia Styles: Though she did share rather intimate details of her life - specifically, how old she was when she started to pilot (14) - he can tell that Tahlia doesn't really think of the two of them as "buddies" just yet, so he doesn't push his luck. Not that Percy wouldn't want to be her friend, of course. The closer he feels to his team the better, he thinks.
Alan Fouren: He has absolutely no idea why Alan seems to hate him - they're basically in the same boat of little-to-no experience and he thought maybe they'd be friends.. Except they're not. Alan's a little sarcastic turd and Percy can't really keep up with that for long, if at all. Percy knows when a friendship just won't work, so he stopped trying after the second sarcastic comeback.
Agatha Smith: His reasons for disliking her aren't really good ones - she's really not that bad of a person and he knows it. At the same time.. it's kinda hard to like a person that'll gang up on you and just tell your how damned inadequate you are. Percy beats himself up plenty and doesn't need help with that, thank you very much. Aside from that, he can respect her work ethic.. sort of. He keeps his distance from her if he can help it.
Ryn Dradht: While he prides himself in not being violent, especially to children, he's came awfully close to spanking Ryn. Her being such a little demon child doesn't help, either. Of course he hasn't actually hurt her, nor would he ever allow her to be hurt during a mission, but he keeps Ana away at the very least. Ana doesn't need that kind of person in her life...
Stein Kalfox: He finds her particularly intimidating and a bit unlikable.. but at the same time, he respects her.
Rebecca Marek: He would never, ever, ever admit it even if he was held at gunpoint over it, but he's got a hardcore crush on this woman. She's pretty, she's funny, she's flirty... It's hard for a guy like Percy to not fantasize about a relationship with her. He tries to keep it to himself, but it's fairly obvious. Percy's shit at hiding those sorts of feelings, especially when he blushes bright fucking red.
Michael Graham: While he's not exactly fond of him, he wouldn't dare try to cause shit with him. He's gotten one too many verbal and physical smackdowns from the guy, so Percy just grits his teeth and does as ordered... Probably has flipped him off behind his back.
Ingram Kalfox: Though they've only met once, the name Ingram just leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Something about the way he acted and the way he spoke about Stein, no matter how much he doesn't like her.. It's unnerving. Children aren't supposed to be useful - they're not tools.
Ana Moore: Percy loves his daughter to bits and wants to think he'd do anything for her, but recently, he's started to wonder if he's been lying to himself. He often finds himself comparing Ana to Laura, and is glad that she took after her mother far more than her father. She's everything positive about her and him bundled up into an adorable package. He wants to be the best father he can be so she can be the best Ana she can be.
Laura Moore: While he wants to say there's nothing but love in his heart for Laura - and often does - that's just not the case. It's so much more complicated than that. Trying to decipher his own feelings for her often ends in rage, tears, and regrets... and drinking. Lots of drinking...
Zach Young: More complicated feelings. While Percy harbors an innate dislike for the guy, Zach did help raise Ana, and probably still would if Percy didn't have Ana on-base with him. Despite the dislike he has, he trusts her with Ana because he knows Zach adores her and would never cause her pain of any kind. If it wasn't for that, Percy would outright hate him. He doesn't want to hate someone that Ana cares about.
Ana Moore
"Dad thinks you're cute."
D - O - BAugust 7, 2669 (8)
G E N D E RFemale
A P P E A R A N C E Ana is a little redheaded girl weighing at about 50 pounds, stands at 4'2", and has lovely olive green eyes, much like her mother (from what Percy tells her, at least). She's also got a smattering of freckles all over her face and shoulders and usually has a smile on her face, despite her troubles.
She's usually wearing a sweater of some color (taking to darker colors recently), warm pants, and some fur-lined boots, but sometimes the facility is a little too hot for her and she'll take off her sweater and reveal a t-shirt underneath the sweater.
P E R S O N A L I T YYou'd think that being victim to the invasion of your home would leave someone as a depressive, paranoid mess.. but not Ana. Not completely, anyway.
Ana does her best to stay optimistic, but it's been more difficult lately. She's still trying, of course, but something's changing and she isn't sure what. Maybe it's stress, maybe it's depression, maybe it's something completely mundane, but whatever it is, it's throwing her out of whack and messing with her head. She doesn't want to worry her father about it though, so she just keeps a smile on her face and hopes nobody can see through it.
Despite all this, she's really not that sad. It's just confusing and difficult being her lately. She plays, jokes, and laughs just like she always has, but some days it's just not as fun being her.
S K I L L S E TAdorable: While it's not exactly a skill, the fact she's just so darn cute n' small works for her very well and she'll use it to her advantage against her father, if she can. She'd use it against other people, but she's fairly sure it only works on Percy.
Personable: She knows that she's fairly approachable, being very small and very cute, but she also acts it, too. She's eager to make friends and she'd probably want to be yours. Probably.
Outspoken: If you're a dick, she'll say so, and she doesn't care what you think about it a vast majority of the time. Especially when she's angry about something.
B A C K S T O R YThough she was far too young to remember her mother's death, she knows that it happened. She also knows that she was born in what was then called Smith's Rest, much like her father and, presumably, her mother. She's also fairly aware that her uncle Zach is not actually her uncle, just a family friend that was close to her mother and came to help with her when she was a baby. She loves him like family anyway.
A lot of her own life is a bit blurry in her head, but she's able to remember the assault on Smith's Rest very well. She and Zach were just quietly reading together till the both of them heard gunfire, then screaming. Ana could feel her stomach lurch as Zach immediately darted to Percy's room to get the firearm. She followed, not wanting to be left alone for too long.
"Zach, what's going on?"
"I don't kn-"
More gunshots. More screaming. The roaring of- NCs? Were there NCs outside? Ana went to look, but Zach beat her too it. Before Ana would quite grasp what was going on, Zach tore her from the window and immediately got to making the house as secure as he possibly could - he took a dining chair and blocked the front door, he scoot the couch closer to the door, and he even flipped the rug up to reveal the trap door.
"Ana, when I tell you to go down, you go down. Understand?"
"Into the hide and seek place?"
"Yeah, the hide and seek place. I mean it, though, ok? I say it, you do it. whatever you do, you can't-"
KNOCK
"Ana-"
"Are you going to be ok?"
KNOCK
Zach yanked the door up and forced Ana to start climbing down. "Do not come out-"
CRACK
The door was shut before Ana could say anything. She couldn't help but start to breathe harder - the reality of everything hit her just as the dark did. Even in here she could hear loud, definitely-not-human-sized-firearm gunshots and she wondered for a moment if they were her father's, or if they belonged to these invading people. She could hear the muffled screaming from outside as well as some kind of struggle going on up above. She sat down as far as she could from the ladder leading down to this space and just listened. It sounded like there were three people - Zach and then two strangers. Two invaders. It went on for a while, and it sounded like maybe Zach was winning, somehow. Maybe she's wrong, but it sounded like it was a possibility.
Then she heard a gunshot, quickly followed by Zach screaming. Zach. Screaming.
Ana screamed too - she couldn't keep herself from doing it. New tears streaked down and she forced herself as far against the wall as she could, biting down into her palm to keep from crying as hard as she wanted to. They're going to find her. They're going to kill her. She didn't tell Zach how much she loved him, and she had no idea what the last words she had spoken to her father had been. In the midst of all the tears, the trapdoor opened, revealing light as well as the silhouettes of the two men. "Aw, it's a lil' girl. How cute."
Ana shrieked as loud as her little vocal chords would allow and tried to find something to chuck right at his stupid face, but his partner hopped down and grabbed her. She screamed again, kicking and flailing, "LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET GO OF ME, JERK!"
But they didn't. The man passed her up to his partner above, and she got yanked up by her hair. Zach and Ana made the briefest of eye contact before the two men dragged her out. The little girl fought as hard as she could, but by the time she was shoved into the cramped little carrier with who knows how many people inside, she was physically exhausted and hyperventilating.
She doesn't remember the process of being rescued, but she remembers how it felt. She remembers both Zach and Percy sobbing and hugging her close. She remembers crying just as hard.
She can also remember countless nights of waking up screaming and having Zach rush in to tell her everything is ok. She remembers being so sleep deprived that the teacher suggested she didn't need to come to school until she felt better. She remembers not being able to get herself to talk because it felt like she'd just start crying. She remembers how Zach and Percy couldn't be around each other without an argument over something happening. She remembers feeling so alone even though she had people that were always there for her.
She doesn't like to think about it if she can help it, but sometimes it just pops up in her thoughts. Sometimes the nightmares just come back for a while.
R E L A T I O N Swill be added to and edited as the rp progresses
Vera Voloshyna: These two are near inseparable, even with Vera being a pilot now. When Vera had announced she was going to be a pilot, Ana had tried to convince her not to do it out of concern for the older girl's safety, but Vera went through with it anyway. Ana still loves her through and through, though. Lately, however, Ana's been having other feelings for the Russian that she can't exactly place yet...
Jingo Strange: When she first saw him, Ana thought Jingo was awfully rough looking and kind of terrifying, but now that they've actually talked and gotten to know each other more, she's comfortable being around him. She feels the same way about Jingo that she feels about Zach - almost like a third dad. To be more specific, a zombie dad with a cool robot dog too
Eli Jackspar: She respects Eli greatly, but she kind of wishes that she'd loosen up a little.
Ordent Callaway: Even though they haven't properly met yet, from what she's seen of him he seems nice. She'd tried once to talk to him, but it didn't really go anywhere because the table must have had something awfully interesting written on it that Ana couldn't see.
Madison Cole: Though Madi really hasn't been around much, from what Ana's seen and heard, she seems fun! She's a big kid in an adult body who would probably be all about playing tag or hide-and-seek in the facility, and Ana's all for it. The more people to play with, the better!
Joshua Ray: Though they haven't met, from what she's heard of him, he too seems nice.
Stein Kalfox: To be honest, Ana respects her, but doesn't really take kindly to how Stein, like a lot of other people, look down on her father. She's also not fond of how cold and rigid that Stein is - it seems like it's worse than Eli, and it makes Ana very sad. She's tried to get Stein to take a break and relax, but Stein never acknowledged it.
Ryn Dradht: Ryn is like human sandpaper, but Ana still likes her. A little. When she, Vera, and Ryn all get into hijinks it's the most fun she's ever had, but when it's just her and Ryn, Ana feels very small in comparison.
Tahlia Styles: She doesn't really have a solid opinion of her for the simple fact they haven't talked much, but she sees no reason to be distrusting.
Alan Fouren: Another person she has very little opinions about. They haven't ever really talked, but he seems ok.
Agatha Smith: While Ana admires that the woman's trying, she doesn't really want to have such intense motherly love thrown her way, nor does she want to know the intricacies of how NCs work, thanks. Ana feels bad for keeping Agatha at a distance, but.. just not right now. Maybe later, Aggie.
Rebecca Marek: She knows her father loves her, and Ana kind of likes her too. Sometimes she wonders if Percy's ever going to ask her to be his girlfriend, or something similar. She also finds herself wondering if Rebecca would be a good mother for her. She doesn't bring it up to her face, of course, but she hopes somehow it happens.
James Lofgren: Though she was a little afraid of her at first, given that their first meeting was to take the oh-so-dreaded NC Compatibility Test, she eventually came to like her. They haven't spoken since then, but she'd shrug and nod a little if you were to ask Ana if they were friends.
Ingram Kalfox: She shares Percy's feelings on the guy, if broadly. Ingram is just kind of... Off. Unlike her father, however, she's willing to believe that it might've just been an off day for him.
Michael Graham: Dick. He's a dick and she doesn't like him. He doesn't have the right to bring up her mother when she didn't even know her.
Percy Moore: She loves her father just as much as he loves her, but she has the feeling that maybe he's not the super hero she's always imagined him being. She's always going to love him, though.
Zach Young: Uncle Zach. Dad #2. Babysitter. However you wanna put it, Ana loves him just as much as she loves her dad.
Laura Moore: Though she doesn't know her, she still sort of misses her, in a way. Based on what her father and Zach have said, she was a wonderful woman who loved Ana very, very much. |
8,104 | 215 | 19 | 923 | 5,303 | R Y N
Ventilation Shaft, New Anchorage CC
]
What a wonderful way to start a morning.
Fuck. I need a coffee.
As Ryn’s eyes moved to her datatool’s holographic display of the map in an attempt to follow it as best she could to the armory she could at the very least file this under being “new” in terms of life experiences and whilst she was a little tense and annoyed about the prospect about being hunted down by a bunch of soldiers in the middle of the night there was something else to it all and she could feel it as her adrenaline continued to rise and she scrambled in the ventilation shaft at an exponentially increasing speed. Ryn hadn’t even seen her first score of combat with the New Anchorage group with the Phantasm and here she was being thrown into a situation that was dangerous and exciting. She could only imagine how it felt to be in the corridors wondering if around the next corner was going to be a knife in the throat or a flash of laser to the face. She was sure that the people out there didn’t think the same way she did about it but she couldn’t help but have her groggy scowl turn into a twisted smirk. She could hear Alan’s whines about her enjoyment out of the whole thing already.
Are you crazy? You do know they want to kill us, right?
A chuckle left her for a moment as the thought crossed her mind. Even after all that Alan and her had gone through by proxy of working together she knew he couldn’t understand her even with them coming from two very similar backgrounds. She had always lived off haphazard adventures and adrenaline even before her mother had died in the unfortunate incident that led Ryn to follow in her footsteps. When she was younger she wanted to be an explorer as evident from her always climbing creaking scaffolds she probably shouldn’t have climbed in the first place and generally getting into whatever trouble she could find in Blackstone Harbor. The thought of something dangerous was always appealing and with her attitude it certainly allowed her a lot of options for it— after all, it was one of the reasons she came to New Anchorage. To try something adventurous, new, dangerous, and thrilling. She just didn’t realize at the time what New Anchorage would offer her and she most definitely couldn’t let her teammates hog up all of the fun.
As she stopped at a location that appeared was above the said armory she was looking for she sighed in relief as she reached into a compartment in her belt that held a small toolkit she took to opening the paneling so she could drop down to the room below.
A loud ‘CLANK’ occurred as Ryn let the paneling fall flat to the floor below rather than sliding it across— a testament to her devil-may-care attitude and apparent apathy on if anybody heard her or not. With only the hue of her datatool she could make out the floor below and after noting it would not be a bad fall she took a light breath before preparing herself to drop down.
This is it.
As she landed in the room she looked around— noting the weapons and in particular the one she wanted. As she used her toolkit to force open the lock to the locker in question she returned her attention to the task at hand. She thought for a minute if she should wait for her team to arrive and need entrance or if she should wing it and open the latch immediately.
She bit her bottom lip, a wry smirk still remaining on her face.
This’ll be fun. | John "Jingo" Strange
“Tea Cakes Anyone?”
C A L L S I G N The Aberdeen
N C O R I G I NNo Corporation (Technically Red Star)
D - O - BOctober 3rd, 2644 (32)
G E N D E RMale
A P P E A R A N C E
Jingo stands at 6'6", straddling the the border between tall and freakishly tall, he has a long arm and legs (his left arm missing just under the elbow), with wide sloping shoulders. His body is enmeshed in a layer of muscle, he's not a beast but he is lean and the lines and creases of his muscles are well defined. He has fair skin, crisscrossed with scars small and large a like, notably his tattered left ear and his missing left cheek, leaving his teeth and gums exposed to the air. Jingo has a fairly angular head, with a straight jaw and a thin imperial nose, he has shallow seek bones and a tall forehead with worry lines permanently furrowed into them. His eyes are set pleasantly apart, wide and full with large irises; the right eye is grey and has a very dark, defined pupil, the left one is a dull, watery blue. He has a thick shag of hair on top of his head, the color of hay and almost as course, the hair on his scalp is thicker then the hair on the sides of his head, but not by much; he has the remnants of a rough beard running down his right cheek (hiding the on set of wrinkles) and forming a goatee around his lips, though stopping on the left side because of the skin missing from his face.
When not in combat, Jingo wears an off white sleeveless shirt, now a light grey after years of wearing; on his legs he wears a pair of loose, green cargo pants, speckled with spots of paint and general dirt; on his feet he wears leather sandals and atop his head he wears a red cap. On the stump of his left arm he wears a prosthetic arm, made of yellowed plastic with a small, hook shaped set of pincers at the bottom, he controls the pincers easily enough due to a cable attached to a surviving tendon; on the left side of his torso, front and back, a black sheet of rubber is stretched over his ribs and is held in with medical staples, this is to protect exposed muscle and ribs and he can not take it off. When in combat, he wears the same cargo pants and shirt but a pair of of boots instead of sandals, with thick woolen thermals underneath everything as it gets very cold in the cockpit of his NC. He wears a tarnished pair of dog tags around his neck, with words stamped into it in a long dead language called Anglish.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Warm and chirpy, Jingo is an overly loud individual with very few layers to him (Not being the one to deceive), he enjoys good company and is good to the company he keeps, loving to joke, play around and generally cause good mannered mayhem. He is fond of bantering and often enjoy's having conversations with people, though being oblivious as to whether they want him around or not. He is not very perceptive, finding it hard to read people though tone of voice or body expression, this makes him overly trusting to people who he thinks are good; and overtly naive. Though he seems positive all the time, he is prone to frustration and heated bouts of cursing at people, having the capability to be a very angry person - though much preferring to keep his cool.
S K I L L S E T
Urban Guerrilla: In his youth Jingo had been part of The Falcon Reach Militia and had been put through rigorous training in the art of fighting in an urban setting, training, assault courses and war games being held abandoned parts of the settlement. His training makes him versed in fighting for every block, building and room, employing shock and awe to crush the enemy quickly and incur as little damage as possible. This can be seen in his NC combat doctrine, preferring to cause as much damage as he can without he himself being damaged. While still taking risk.
Demolitions Expert: Having been a miner before his maiming his eyes are trained to seek weak spots in structures, natural or otherwise and when needed, use these weaknesses to collapse the structure in a spectacular fashion. But the reverse is also true, he knows where to make changes to ensure something stays up. This makes him a competent battle engineer. And VERY good at Jenga.
Attack Dog: His loyal mechanical mutt, Skitters served him well through combat portions of Graham's Ultimatum (despite Graham not wanting him to bring the dog along). Taser built into its muzzle, it did not need to be commanded to do what Jingo wanted him to do. Skitter's leapt, clawed and tasered, falling back to his ancient combat parameters. Outside of combat Skitter's is a derpy, lovable dog and Jingo's most trusted friend... Despite zapping him a few times by accident.
Forceful Optimist: Despite all the things that have befallen him, his maiming; him being sold into slavery; his mother's descent into early Alzheimer's; his sister's failed attempt to seize power, thus alienating his family and his father's murder. Throughout all this he found it difficult to continue going at the pace he was, but he did. Forcing himself to smile and think on the brighter side he made it through his problems with little (figurative) surface damage.
B A C K S T O R Y
Jingo was born in a settlement quite far from Smith's Rest, it was called Falcon Reach, a semi subterranean community built into the side of a white limestone cliff, using the natural tunnels and caves as dwelling. Falcon Reach overlooked a massive salt bed, the dried remains of what was once a sea sprawled out all along it, dotted with the rusting husks of stranded boats and ships. His mother was a miner, along with most of the town, she was a small, asthmatic, eighteen year old girl; his father was a Falconer, one of Falcon Reach's elite. They met by sheer coincidence, when one of his Falcon's flew down the mines and his mother brought it back up, it didn't take long for the pair to fall in love and they quickly got married upon finding that she was pregnant. Seven months later, out popped a pair of twins, Jingo and his sister Lisa, both pursued different paths, Lisa became a Falconer like her father and Jingo became a miner like his mother.
However he didn't really choose the life of a miner. Red Star owned and ran Falcon Reach in a de facto manner, despite the corporation having given it partial self governance. He was selected for his strength... And his gullibility. He was not as smart as his sister and so he was easier to trick, trick into thinking that if he worked as both militia and miner he would get a position as high ranking as his sister. His big break came from the militia. As part of their training they had to go through a test to see how well they would synchronize with an NC, he managed to be one of the few who were able to. Within days he had a plug put in him, it wasn't quite what he wanted but he allowed the procedure to go on instead of being beaten and forced into it.
One day he was minding his own business performing exercises in his NC, it was as normal an occasion as any other, too bad it didn't pan out as usual. High above him, blasting was taking place, this was normal, the stones were meant to fall in to the tunnel as opposed to out and down the cliff side but it did. A large boulder fell from the blasting site, launched outwards by the blast just far enough for it to path with Jingo, he saw it fall, he made a move but he was too slow. The left side of the NC was crushed by the immense weight of the falling lump of stone, sending it rag dolling into the floor; inside, Jingo was screaming in agony, the left side of his craft having collapsed inwards and crushing him against his seat. The boulder was lifted off after fifteen minutes, by this pint he had passed out from the pain and lack of oxygen, they had to cut him out as the hatch had been crumpled shut by the force of the falling rock. His injuries were far beyond the healing capabilities of the doctor's of Falcon Reach, so they loaded him into a helicopter and flew him to the nearest place with good medical facilities. Though of course, Red Star did not provide any assistance in the matter.
At the time, the best place on the surface to get treatment in Falcon Reach's area was Smith's Rest. Back before it's decline it thriving town and where there was a thriving town, there were doctors that were more then happy to make a buck off of sick people. Jingo was in hospital for weeks, his arm was completely ruined, that had to come off; the pieces of the left side of his skull had to be reassembled and held in place with pins and all the skin on the left of his torso had to be removed to rebuild his ribs. Throughout this, the doctor's were charging outrageous prices for their services and before long, his father had sold everything he had to pay the up keep. Eventually the family had to give Jingo to the doctor, as a kind of indentured servant, he worked under the doctor as a lackey, sweeping the floors and carrying boxes. After a few years of this, the doctor left, Smith's Rest was in decline and no one could pay for his services, so he took his accumulated wealth and moved to an underground metropolis. However the doctor wasn't completely horrible to Jingo, for years of free work he left Jingo an old auto-shop in the corner of town. He stayed in Smith's rest, not having enough money to get back to Falcon Reach, eventually he integrated, dropping his thick sea accent and getting use to the cold winters.
Sometime after his first missions with the corps Jingo received a letter from home, his father had passed away and there was a dispute over what he had left for Jingo. The doctor who had patched him up was a claimant for the sum that was left behind, arguing that because he did not technically release Jingo from his servitude the money belonged to him. A lengthy legal battle took place, something that surprised Jingo because court hearings over things like inheritance were rarely heard of. A few months had passed and the hearings grew more and more heated, legally Falcon Reach did permit slavery (though no one owned slaves anymore) making the doctor the rightful claimant, however most people preferred Jingo and saw the law as a formality. The whole case eventually ended with doctor being pushed off of the side of the cliff by a gang of ruffians, something Jingo didn't openly condone but was glad about on the inside. His inheritance secured, he was getting ready to return to the newly founded New Anchorage.
His train was going to be delayed.
From outside his family's home, Jingo could hear gunshots and explosions. He knew that the heightened Red Star control on Falcon Reach's administration was unpopular but he didn't think it would break into open revolt. His sister, Lisa, begged him for his help but he knew it wasn't wise for him to help her. In the end he convinced her to make an escape before the Red Star soldiers found out it was her who instigated the violence. Jingo had struggled for the inheritance his father had left him, so naturally watching it fly away in a chopper with his sister and his wheelchair bound mother was painful. Returning to New Anchorage on one of the last outbound, he had arrived in time for Graham's Ultimatum, he didn't recall having to take a physical exam but it seemed like a sane measure. He passed well enough, despite taking his time climbing his NC.
T H E M E C H
Compared to other NC's, the Aberdeen is a rather discreet, quiet machine, that doesn't attract much attention to itself, it has a very long range due to it's light construction and a top running speed of Sixty miles per hour, with an optimum cruising speed of Thirty. Due to the powerful piston arrangements in the legs, the Aberdeen has the ability to jump 40 meters and land safely because of it's radial shock absorbers and independent tread pads. These things taken into account, it makes an excellent scouting platform and light support unit. The Aberdeen is old but reliable, like most old things, it won't ever fail Jingo but it still has some things that are rather annoying, like how the coolant housing is open to the cockpit and makes the space freezing cold
Equipment:
- Rhythmic Emission Detector: An onboard system that casts a kind of ultrasonic bubble a large area around The Aberdeen, the computer detects fluctuations and disturbances in the bubble and displays them on the layered display. This allows the Aberdeen to detect distant heart beats and engines, using a database to interpret the vibrations and narrow down what they could be, filtering out things like animals, wind and running water.
- High Gain Band Scanner: A radio signal scanner that goes through all available bands and pin points any readable ones, though it does this with relative ease, it doesn't have any means of interpreting the data, leaving the pilot to do so by giving him the list of readable signals. It doesn't read cyphers or decrypts enigmas, that is left for the pilot to do, it can only be used when the NC is not in combat as it requires the unlatching of sensitive transmission equipments.
- Albin-Coxwell HD Film Auto-Cam: A high definition camera with a sixty times optical zoom, the images are stored on solid state hard drives stored in the cockpit, the gathered intelligence can be transmitted to other NCs but an antenna has to be raised and can easily be damaged when not handled with care.
- 2x Albin-Coxwell Flying Camsmitter: Fired from a hatch on the top of the NC, it is a rocket propelled cylinder with a camera in it, gathering aerial, birds eye view images of the land below, the transmitter has a ten mile range but the images aren't as high definition as the Auto-Cam's. The image is viewed as a constant stream by The Aberdeen and then stored on a solid state hard drive, only one stream of images can be stored per drive.
- Track Suppressing Technology: Units in built in the feet of the Aberdeen to dampen the sound of walking and reduce track size to a minimum. Using a constant stream of concentrated, downwards pointing air, it blows dust back down on to the ground and make sure there are no large plumes behind the moving NC and to fill tracks back in. Used best at cruise speed.
- (Right Arm) 2x 20mm Antiaircraft Guns: A pair of guns stripped from an old tank, the twin automatic guns have a high rate of fire but due to their relatively small caliber they need to sustain fire for a long time on a heavily armored target to significantly damage it, or aim for weak spots. They are best used against lightly armored targets, aircraft or infantry. Jingo keeps them around to minimize weight.
- (Left Arm) High Energy Field generator: Built into the segment in the left arm, the Field generator produces a circular shield that Jingo can use when he is sustaining heavy fire and must maintain the integrity of the NC itself. It works excellently against all small arms, AA guns and medium caliber artillery but rockets and energy weapons are very good at bypassing it.
- (Left Arm) Cutting Blade: What it says on the tin.
R E L A T I O N S
Anastasia "Stein" Kalfox: Jingo hasn't had much opportunity to talk with the woman but regards her with respect, he knows of her talent and ability and is thankful that there is someone like that in the field to remind him everything isn't fun and games.
Kathryn "Ryn" Dradht: Loud and abrasive, About as much as Jingo could gather from his interactions with her. However she is fun to talk to and has impressed him with her ability as a pilot, despite being so young. His only issue with her is her insistence on using bad language.
Tahlia Styles: Jingo can't say much about the Aussie, other then he doesn't much like her cigarette smoke.
Elizabeth "Eli" Jackspar: Jingo doesn't know her that well (or at all) but the tits and tats that he's heard of her past make him feel for her. But he knows that there's a lovable side in there, Vera is a good indication of that.
Percy Moore: The only person that Jingo can really call his friend. No strings attached, he knows that he can rely on Percy when he needs him and he hopes that Percy knows he can rely him. Considers Percy to be his right hand man
Madison Cole: He remembered her that day on the Truck, he couldn't stop remembering her since. Jingo has a tiny little bit of a crush on her, or at least what he thinks she is. Regardless, he doesn't know that she's gay.
Alan Fouren: One of the new crew, Jingo finds the man's jokes funny and his company comfortable but he's not sure about his skills as a fighter and doesn't really want to get killed out there. He'll keep his distance for the moment, on the field that is.
Ordent "Orry" Callaway: At first Jingo wasn't really sure about this one, but when he got past his subdued nature he learned to appreciate how hard Orry was willing to work. This only made it easier for Jingo him his way around guns.
Ana Moore & Vera Voloshyna: The Children, oh how Jingo adores the children, he doesn't think he could do it day to day without at least spotting them once. They are necessary sunshine in a world of boring, mind numbing monotony. |
8,105 | 216 | 0 | 2,249 | 64 | Hallway
Brian would sit at his locker putting his backpack in and grabbing his School supplies out of his bag and Organizing his locker.
Brian would Then close his locker,and Head off to Ms.Thomas's class room 265,Ms. Thomas teaches math.
Brian would be walking with book's in tow and would walk to room 265. | name:Brian Holcon
age:17
Height:6'1
Grade level:Junior
Activities:Football,Basketball,parties.
History:Brian is one of the cool crowd,He loves life,A slight drinker,but he is a junior now,When his Foster parents took him in after his dad walked out and Mother had been locked up.
Relationships:NA
Family:john Holcon(foster father),alice holcon(Foster mother)
Likes: Booze,Parties,Ladies,Football,Basket ball,Being social
Dislikes:Bad grades,not being invited,being lied to
Date of birth:4/9/16 |
8,106 | 216 | 1 | 114 | 854 | Alyssa grabbed her schedule out of her bag. She eyed down the list of her classes. She had math first. Math, one of her least favorite subjects. Well in all honesty, she hated all of her subjects. Seeing what the class number and the teacher she placed it back in to her pocket. She didn't even bother going to her locker! Its not like she had any need to at the moment. | name: Alyssa Samara Chase
age: 17
Height:5'0"
Grade level: junior
Activities: graphity art, having fun, field hockey, parties...
History: She is not very social, and doesn't go out of her bubble much, but with those who are in her bubble she's very social. She is also a major prankster, and loves to play jokes on people. She is known for her pranks, and getting in trouble a lot.
Relationships: N/A
Family: Kevin Bishop (father) who is always working to keep the roof over there heads, also drinks sometimes, and goes full out.
Likes: Field hockey, fun, pranks, graphity, music, party's, woods
Dislikes: rules, overly nice, people sticking there nose in her bossiness,
Date of birth: December twelth |
8,107 | 216 | 2 | 2,249 | 64 | Room 265,Ms.smiths Math class,First period
Brian would walk into room 265.
he'd sit in a seat.
Brian was always there before anyone else.
He'd twiddle a pencil in his fingers waiting for the Others. | name:Brian Holcon
age:17
Height:6'1
Grade level:Junior
Activities:Football,Basketball,parties.
History:Brian is one of the cool crowd,He loves life,A slight drinker,but he is a junior now,When his Foster parents took him in after his dad walked out and Mother had been locked up.
Relationships:NA
Family:john Holcon(foster father),alice holcon(Foster mother)
Likes: Booze,Parties,Ladies,Football,Basket ball,Being social
Dislikes:Bad grades,not being invited,being lied to
Date of birth:4/9/16 |
8,108 | 216 | 3 | 114 | 854 | She opened the door and walked in. Eyeing around the room, she realized that she was one of the first ones there other than Brian. She shook her head and walked to the back of the room and sat down in he seet in the corner near the window. She huffed,kicking her feet onto her desk as she took out her phone. | name: Alyssa Samara Chase
age: 17
Height:5'0"
Grade level: junior
Activities: graphity art, having fun, field hockey, parties...
History: She is not very social, and doesn't go out of her bubble much, but with those who are in her bubble she's very social. She is also a major prankster, and loves to play jokes on people. She is known for her pranks, and getting in trouble a lot.
Relationships: N/A
Family: Kevin Bishop (father) who is always working to keep the roof over there heads, also drinks sometimes, and goes full out.
Likes: Field hockey, fun, pranks, graphity, music, party's, woods
Dislikes: rules, overly nice, people sticking there nose in her bossiness,
Date of birth: December twelth |
8,109 | 217 | 0 | 2,356 | 5,042 | Central City High School
West Hall Janitor's Closet
5:45 pm
"Really I think we're all set to go with this plan." The young man tugged back on the wheels of his wheelchair to pull away from the lowered small table. Dressed fairly moderately in a button up plaid shirt with jeans and some slip on loafer shoes and a slightly greasy, messy dirty blond hair on top and glasses on the temple of his nose. He fiddled with his glasses a bit as he spun around in the chair to his computer inputting some things to it with rapid precision. The table he was just at having placed on it open school files on a small group of students of various types who had one major thing in common. "Now once we get started we need to keep all of this as quiet as possible even if it goes without saying. I don't think any of our parents would be particularly keen on this." He chuckled, albeit in an awkward tone. "Right but still last thing we should have to worry about is just any outside interference of any kind. A lot of this depends on anonymity of course."
Both Caroline and Carolyn stood by listening to Apollo. Somehow he had learned about her... their...? He learned that the gas had changed them like the others. Lately things in town have been going rather crazy with the "Bang Babies" running around causing chaos. Reaching out Apollo contacted the brand new twins specifically before the others. All of them had abilities but she had some leadership experience. Most of the other students she recognized. "I agree. Plus if anyone found out who we were then our families could be in danger." Caroline said taking a step back. "This is all pretty crazy. I would really like to know what we were all exposed to that night." She added as she looked over to Carolyn who had been admiring the black costume she was sporting.
She must have felt their eyes because Carolyn looked up. "Oh. Yeah I agree, obviously. What else is there to do?" She stepped over to her sister now that both of them were suited up.
Nodding in agreement while he stayed at the computer Apollo finally pulled away from the desk which he had put into the room himself. "Alright so tomorrow I'll have the message sent to their phones. We have them all meet here, and we can get started on the plans. Now I have the system ready to send out the text messages tomorrow morning before school. If you want to speak to them personally before after school thats your call. Either way I say get suited up, if nothing else its a heck of an entrance." Apollo grinned sheepishly before tugging on the collar of his shirt. "I mean you do, both I mean, look great. Just you know not used to critiquing a girl's outfit before." He awkwardly pointed out.
Though this wouldn't have been the first time someone complimented Caroline or Carolyn it was rather cute coming from Apollo. Caroline smiled softly and her sister blushed slightly. Despite essentially being the same person each had their quarks. "Well you made them for us. They fit well without being overtly..." "Ehem." Carolyn interrupted briefly. After a second they were back on the same page. "I think if the two of us walk into a room it would be enterance enough. There did used to be only one of us."
"Well yes I believe thats what just about everyone thinks still. Now then, I say we be on our way before the school security guards arrive and we get this show on the road."
Nodding together both the girls headed off to change and get back to the normal hum drum until everything got started the next day. | Name: Caroline and Carolyn Bowen
Grade: Junior
Codename: Solar Eclipse
Powers: The first result of her powers manifesting was Caraline splitting into two people. While technically the same person they can move about and do things independently. Being opposites they are drawn to each other at all times and distance apart weakens their powers. When they are close they seem to have a mental link with which to share information. Extended periods of separation (several days) results in uncontrolled bursts of the opposite "twin's" power.
Solar (Caroline): Usually dons white and is capable of manipulating and produce beams of light. These beams are able to burn objects or temporarily blind people.
Eclipse (Carolyn): Usually dons black and is able to manipulate and produce shadows. The shadows are able to take on physical properties so long as she is in direct contact with them.
Appearance:
Clubs or Achievements: Caroline is very active in the student body. Acting in the student council she plays a part in many school related student activities and events. Because of what she does most likely see her as the overachieving control freak. At one time she participated in cheerleading and photography club but a lot of her time is eaten up nowadays. She is always looking for another great idea to pitch.
Brief Bio: Caroline grew up in a family of workers. Both her mother and father had full time jobs but always found time in the evening and weekends to spend with their daughter. Some children might not like that kind of situation but for the young girl it was a source of inspiration. If her parents were working hard then so would she. At least that was the idea. School seemed to get in the way of that until she joined the cheerleading squad.
While it was great working with a team she felt there was more she could do and began to dabble more in the political aspects of the school. Finding a particular liking and knack for organization and planning she took on several tasks. Over time she worked her way up to student council where Caroline felt she could make the most difference. There she and the other members coordinated numerous events, fundraisers, and activities. One day word reached her of a party being arranged that many students were going to. Curious about how this had slipped past them she planned to attend, if for no other reason but to see what was up. But hey, it's a party. Who really needs an excuse to go to one of those? |
8,110 | 217 | 1 | 694 | 2,139 | ~The Next Day~
7:23 am
The Horne's Residence
There was something weirdly hypnotic about just watching the fan on the ceiling slowly rotate in place as it was one to do. How it can help one's mind just have a billion random thoughts and just nothing going through it at the same time. That was the kind of thing Adrian Horne needed in his life right now, or at least what parts left of it that haven't gone completely insane.
As he laid in bed, still in his pajamas and with the comforter still up and covering. Adrian again thought back to the night from last week, and everything since. How at first everything was a blast, the old warehouse was packed full of people not looking for any fight, or any trouble, just having a great time. The music was that perfect blend of old school music and stuff from the pop radio stations. Then the lights got killed for a moment, and then even after they got re-lit, things went to Hell quickly. He could still hear the screams, the strange sounds of people mutating, that image on the side of the warehouse from police lights of someone turning into some beast not even the Bible could of predicted. The fact was Adrian and a lot of the others were lucky to get out of there with their lives in tact.
Of course at least he thought he did, until the next morning when he found himself turned into a broken Stretch Armstrong doll. His limbs were so stretched out he couldn't even see his own room's flooring. It took him and his dad an hour to be able to get Adrian back to a normal looking form, but even then things were not smooth. As Adrian spent around three days from school, he had to practically learn how to walk again. If he took too deep a breath, he'd be puffed up into a balloon, exhaled just a bit too much, he'd end up a stick figure or flat as paper. His morning stretches have sure as Hell needed to change too. Still it wasn't all bad news, even given how crazy the new powers were, Adrian actually seriously loved them. There was something amazing about being to get something out of the fridge without even having to leave the living room. Need to go to the bath room but in the middle of a movie? Just have your lower half go take care of business on its own. Plus as his mom originally pointed out, becoming elastic has improved his ballet and dance ability into almost inconceivable levels. Allonges, arabesques, so many other moves are now so easy Adrian could do them in his sleep. Turns out possibly no longer having a spine, or any bones in your body possibly, can have its advantages.
Finally Adrian had to get out of bed, which resulted in him realizing his body was all noodle-y again. By now what resulted at first in a complete freak out only got out of Adrian a slightly irritated sigh and quiet fixing of the problem. Post shower and breakfast of a few oreo cookies from the cabinet and a glass of milk, Adrian threw on a shirt, cargo pants, and some sneakers to take the nice stroll to school.
It was just after his first period history class that Adrian got a text message. By this time in his life Adrian was used to his mom or dad letting him know if they were going to be late coming home. As his dad was just starting up preparations for the city Shakespeare festival, and mom had new students coming into her dance school. However the message was from someone else, some anonymous figure who left... well... whatever the hell you call this.
For our lives now, for everyone we know and love, its us versus them.
I don't know who exactly is the 'them' of that line, but we have something deeper here.
That explosion, the party itself, there's no coincidence here. We were set up from the start to be expose to whatever that stuff was.
They've been at it for some time now, slowly picking up some of the other people who were there that night. Some willingly joining them, most probably not though.
They're the others too, the ones who mutated their minds are gone, twisted into some kind of monster beyond all human form.
I made sure you're the only person I want seeing this message, its encrypted, and will be completely wiped from existence as soon as I find out you read it. They might think of you as a menace now, some kind of threat, but I know you have it in you to do something about all this, the right thing to do. As for who I am? Just call me Apollo for now. Trust me, I might be the only 'friend' you have anymore.
As soon as I hear back from you, we can get this show on the road.
Apollo? Us versus them? Yeah Adrian was too curious to not look into this.
~~~~~~
As the final school bell ring went through the halls. Adrian left his final class still cautious going through the halls. Worried about bumping into someone or having something happened that would suddenly result in him bending or moving in a very unnatural motion. His been able to avoid any suspicious moments happening but it hasn't been easy. Plus him being overly cautious like this wasn't normal and thus leading to rumors. Truthfully Adrian was used to rumors about him. A particular one that can only result from a grown man wearing spandex, practicing ballet, singing, acting, and doing generally non-manly things like football or beating women or whatever.
Adrian got to the janitor's closet in question only for it to be locked still. Figuring by now it might all be just some weird prank Adrian leaned up against the wall next to the door. He'll give this guy 15 minutes before he leaves. | Name: Adrian Horne
Grade: Junior
Codename: THE GREAT RUBBERBANDO!!!!!!! (Though pretty much everyone else will be calling him Rubberbando)
Powers: Able to stretch his body and limbs up too three miles long from toes to fingertips. Can also contort, remold himself, and flatten or inflate. With a little training Adrian has learned how to remold himself to look completely different, with a wig and contacts he can change everything about himself to look like anyone else entirely
Stands at around a modest 5'9 and is 142 pounds before the incident. His weight now, despite looking the same, is a meager 52 pounds. Normally wears simple, comfortable clothes. T-shirts, fairly loose jeans, sneakers.
Clubs or Achievements: Student and trainer at Bella Dance Academy, knows how to play piano, member and vice president of high school thespians club.
Brief Bio: Adrian from the start seemingly had his path laid out for him. His father was one of England's finest Shakespearean actors of the last 20 some off years, and his mom was a talented ballerina dancer who fell for his father during rehearsals for a performance of The Nutcracker. The two moved to Central City when Adrian's father was hired to work with the city's performance center of the arts as an administrative. Meanwhile his mom Bella proceeded to create Bella Dance Academy.
With Adrian following in both of their footsteps the path may seem daunting, but thankfully on top of being skilled in their arts. Both had a very approachable personality and willingness to work with their son in dance and acting, even with their son's seemingly goofy nature. A goofy nature that only got worse when Adrian started going to his school's drama classes and seeing the similarly silly classmates who quickly grew to be close friends.
Though that isn't to say Adrian is some dork who has twinkle toes and knows the lyrics to every Disney song ever (Seriously he has a staggering collection of Disney VHS tapes in their original clam shell cases). Adrian is a man who expects a lot from himself. Someone who doesn't ask for respect but demands it through his work. In local high school acting competitions Adrian has been a constant favorite to win, and in dance his ballet techniques have made him a teacher of sorts for the younger, more inexperienced students. Though when someone makes fun of him for his time in ballet and dance. Adrian calmly smiles and simply usually says “I'm the only guy in a class of about 14 cute girls... momma didn't raise no fool.”
When it came time to cut loose, Adrian was planning a quiet night at the house watching The Producers on DVD with a bowl of popcorn when one of his classmates told him about a big party going on. Eventually he got talked into going, something he now deeply regrets. |
8,111 | 217 | 2 | 1,243 | 1,011 | The Night of the Incident
12: 30 A.M.
Warehouse District
"Why are we doing this again? There's a party right at the other warehouse." One of the new members of the gang said while looking out for any trouble.
Aaron sighed. He had been with the gang for a while now and had even risen in ranks. He was actually the one chosen to run this operation for the night. "David wants this done. Once we break in here and get whatever's inside on the truck then you can worry about a party. Plus, it's the perfect cover."
The new blood sighed and looked around and muttered something under his breath. It probably had something to do with it being cold out there. Aaron knew it was cold and just wanted to get this thing over with. He knew parties tended to draw cops and with how loud that party was things might get hairy quickly. The guys working on breaking in finally got the door opened. They and Aaron went inside so they could start loading things onto the truck.
While they were about to head out for the first load they saw the newbie inside. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be keeping watch!"
"Don't worry abo---."
He was cut off by a cop yelling "Freeze!" with his gun already out. Typical. The guy didn't even give them the chance.
Aaron covered his face with his item and yelled, "SCATTER!!" They all, including Aaron, dropped what they were holding and started running around in a frenzy. Fortunately it was only one officer so he couldn't catch them all. Aaron wasn't even sure who ended up being captured, but he knew that he wasn't one of them. He bashed open a window and jumped out of it. He ran and didn't turn back. He knew going out into the open street would make it easier for him to be detained so he decided to do the sensible thing and joined the party.
He saw a few of the guys from his gang at the party, but he decided not to mingle with them and instead decided to enjoy himself. They may not have gotten the job done, but he wasn't arrested either. They could always try again another time when there isn't a huge beacon right next to him. The party was fun and one of the best ones that he went to. He found some kids who had happened to smuggle alcohol in and got some of their drinks. Soon the lights went off for a bit and then they came back on and the party resumed. He continued to drink and have a good time. He danced with some girls and made out with a few. After a while he noticed what he believed to be smoke around. He guessed that they just turned on a smoke machine or something and thought nothing of it.
After a while the party was officially shutdown and that's when things got really weird. People were doing things they shouldn't have been able to and others were turning into mutated freaks. He would have thought that it was the alcohol or something talking, but he wasn't the only one who had saw this and reacted. He even could've sworn that he saw some of the guys transforming as well. He got out of there as fast as he could still not sure about what was going on.
A Few Days Later
Gas Station ATM
5:45 P.M.
The morning after the incident Aaron discovered that he had been granted with powers as well and told his gang. They decided to test these powers out for themselves by having him do some odd jobs. One of the jobs being breaking an ATM with his power so they could get the money out of it. Exploitation at its finest.
The clerk was keeping his eyes on them. They were suspicious characters after all. "Hurry up, Russell. This is supposed to be a fast and easy job for you."
"It is," he said with a sigh before charging the machine with electricity from the tips of his fingers. Suddenly the machine started to shake and it burst open in a miniature boom causing the money to fly everywhere. The clerk was quick to get his gun and Aaron knew what to do while the guys gathered up the cash. He thrust his arm at him sending an arc of electricity at him to knock him down. Fortunately for the gang the clerk hit his head and was knocked unconscious. "Hurry up and let's get out of here."
They finished gathering up the money and started counting it as they walked. "I haven't heard from some of the others since that night. What do you think happened to them?"
"Some got arrested escaping your failed job. Others were mutated into super freaks. David plans on finding them and busting them out and using you and them for some big scores." One of the guys said while still counting money.
"Yeah... About that." Aaron started while looking down. "I'm thinking about getting out."
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Aaron. One of the tougher ones placed his cash in his left hand while lifting up his shirt to reveal a gun with his right. "You know there's only one way out. Do you re-ooof!"
Aaron slammed him against the fence with his arm pressed against his neck. The guy dropped his money on the ground and it started to scatter while being blown with the wind. "You don't threaten me. I can handle you guys. Remember that. And I know you won't snitch to the police." He let him go spit on the ground next to his feet.
The guy was coughing and trying to catch his breath. "You think you're so tough now because you have powers? You could never kill one of us. You never killed anyone."
"You want to test that theory of yours? I may not have killed anyone, but it doesn't mean that I can't and won't. I've put plenty of punks in the hospital and that was without my new powers." He started walking the opposite way of the others and remained cautious, but he knew that they weren't going to try anything. Not right now at least. They'd need David's new super goons. He wasn't sure if he could take all of them on alone. He'd just have to worry about that a different day.
Today
Central City High School
Aaron had to watch his back ever since. He had made an entire gang of enemies. There was only enough that his confidence could do for him. What was he thinking by saying he could take on an entire gang by himself? He was smart, but stupid at the same time. He was opening his locker when he got a text message. He had no idea who it was from. The good morning messages usually stopped coming in by this time.
Before he could check it his locker was slammed shut from behind him. He turned around to see one of the guys from his gang. "So, I heard that you quit."
"You heard right. Am I going to have to do the same thing to you as the last guy?" Aaron responded.
"No, of course not buddy. I'm cool with you, personally. But it's bigger than that. Just know that you're not getting away with leaving us." Before any fists could be thrown he simply walked away with a smile.
Aaron finally looked down to read the message.
For our lives now, for everyone we know and love, its us versus them.
I don't know who exactly is the 'them' of that line, but we have something deeper here.
That explosion, the party itself, there's no coincidence here. We were set up from the start to be exposed to whatever that stuff was.
They've been at it for some time now, slowly picking up some of the other people who were there that night. Some willingly joining them, most probably not though.
They're the others too, the ones who mutated their minds are gone, twisted into some kind of monster beyond all human form. Or using their powers for greed, or just plain chaos.
I made sure you're the only person I want seeing this message, its encrypted, and will be completely wiped from existence as soon as I find out you read it. They might think of you as a menace now, some kind of threat, but I know you have it in you to do something about all this, the right thing to do. As for who I am? Just call me Apollo for now. Trust me, I might be the only 'friend' you have anymore.
As soon as I hear back from you, meet me at the janitor's closet in the west hall after school. Once you're there, we can get this show on the road.
What was all of this about? And why did this guy want to meet him in the janitor's closet? Could this be some trap set up by the gang? No, they weren't smart enough to know what an encrypted message was. At least not all of them. They also didn't know how to wipe the message like this guy might. David probably had someone who could do it or maybe he could do it himself. He didn't know. He wasn't going to be a coward though. He'd meet this Apollo guy at the Janitor's closet as weird as that sounded.
~~~~~~
After school was over Aaron found his way to the West Hall Janitor's closet. He only saw one person outside of the closet and figured that this was this Apollo guy. He was the only one to receive the message after all. He didn't look dangerous, but looks could always be deceiving.
"Uh... Apollo?" | Name: Aaron Russell
Grade: Junior
Codename: Voltaic
Powers: Super-Conductive Electromagnetism: Aaron can sense sources of electromagnetic energy or objects that can be affected by it such as underground water pipes. He can magnetize and demagnetize metals. He can also manipulate and generate electromagnetic fields, but since he's fairly new at using his powers he has some training to do before he can do more with this ability.
Electrokinesis: Aaron can generate electricity from his body and administer it in a range of different attacks and uses. He can charge devices, drain devices and project his electricity in a variety of controlled ways.
Clubs or Achievements: Despite his rough background Aaron is very smart. He's not in any clubs or organizations, but he has one of the highest grade point averages in the school. It would be higher if he didn't skip class as much as he did.
Brief Bio: Aaron's life wasn't always bad. In fact before seventh grade he had the greatest life. He was living in New York with two loving parents until the summer after fifth grade. His dad ended up getting transferred to the Central City Police Department as a detective and his mother was able to transfer with her news anchor job.
They moved to Central City and everything seemed to be going fine. Despite their busy schedules they spent time with their son and Aaron had new friends that were even better than the ones he had in elementary. One day while he was in seventh grade his dad got killed on the job and that left Aaron with something missing. He didn't have a father figure to look up to anymore and someone who could look after him. This is what got him into the gang life.
He had a new family that seemed to care for him and protected him just as he protected them. He never had to kill anyone, but that didn't mean he didn't have to fight someone. He did a lot of that and even got good at it. He was so good at criminal activity to the point where he never got caught committing any criminal acts.
On the night of the party he had a job to do in a nearby warehouse. One thing led to another and he ended up escaping the police by going to the party. Would the events of that night change his life and put him back on the right path? Maybe, maybe not.
Spoiler Alert: He does end up put him on the right path. |
8,112 | 217 | 3 | 2,668 | 136 | Smith Home - Backyard
4:56 P.M.
Central City
Few Days After Incident
"Ok, just for my own sake... and safety, you sure this is going to work? I mean we've already done this four times already. " Derick questioned Blake again for the fifth time as he rubbed the side left side of his aching ribcage.
"For the last time, we'll never know if we don't test this out. This will be the last one, I promise " Blake reassured his hesitant close friend as he began bouncing on the heels of his feet.
"...Your lucky, I'm willing to partake in your shenanigans, even as insane as it sounded when you asked me to do this," Derick said more so to himself rather than to Blake as let out a sigh of defeat, he pulled up the smaller replica ax of Gorehowl from the ground and gripped it tightly with both hands. "Here is to hoping this works."
With a high-pitched war cry sounding more accustomed to that of a straggled vulture, Derick charged at Blake with the ax held high over his head as he neared him. Though as he came running, full speed, from Blake's point of view he was moving rather slow. Time seemed to have accelerate, or rather his adrenaline pumped into him as a sense of excitement and danger came at him in the shape of a heavy and sharp steel ax.
Derick brought down the weapon in a full over head arc, but came up connecting with nothing but the dirt and grass where Blake had stood clear as day. A stinging blow hit the right side of jaw as his head jerked over to the right. Pulling the embedded ax out the ground, he reversed the ax's head to were it was facing behind him and swung to his left only to come into contact with nothing but air. Derick then felt the ground beneath him disappear from under his feet and him falling to the ground. He let go of Gorehowl as he immediately shut his eyes, clenched his teeth with a pained expression and arched his body up into the air from the pain of his back landing hard on the ground.
After a few moments of letting out a series of grunts and groaned pains he opened his eyes to see Blake looking down at him sporting a wolfish grin. "Didn't seem to work that time, but at least we know that I'm pretty fast," Blake said to Derick as he offered his hand out to help him off the ground. Derick grabbed Blake's extended hand and was pulled up off the ground.
"Well I only find this to be a pain in my ass... figuratively and literally."Derick said after he rubbed his back in hopes of the pain dulling away. He bent down and picked up gorehowl and handed it back to Blake.
"I think I've got a good enough collection of bruises on me, I need to recuperate myself for a while now." Blake took the ax back from him and let of small chuckle at his friends complaint, "Well, thanks for helping me to try to figure this out anyway. Let me know when you want to come over and do this again," Blake said with laughter as he a glaring look from his mohawked friend.
Blake and Derick said their goodbyes to each other. Once Derick left through the side gate of Blake's fenced-in backyard, Blake walked over to were he setup his camcorder on the wooden table. He set the camera up so he could look back on his 'trial test' of his newly and recently acquired abilities against his friend. Blake's mind began to muddle and go back to the incident that took place just a few days ago as he watched himself on camera moving as a mere blur. The music getting everyone on their feet, moving the the beats. People enjoying the short-lived moment of carefree fun. The lights flashing about the packed building, then going out...
*Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!* His phone vibrated followed by his chosen ringtone to play when he received messages.
Blake pulled out his phone and opened the message, which caused him to display a puzzled look as to who left him a rather lengthy one at that.
For our lives now, for everyone we know and love, its us versus them.
I don't know who exactly is the 'them' of that line, but we have something deeper here.
That explosion, the party itself, there's no coincidence here. We were set up from the start to be exposed to whatever that stuff was.
They've been at it for some time now, slowly picking up some of the other people who were there that night. Some willingly joining them, most probably not though.
They're the others too, the ones who mutated their minds are gone, twisted into some kind of monster beyond all human form. Or using their powers for greed, or just plain chaos.
I made sure you're the only person I want seeing this message, its encrypted, and will be completely wiped from existence as soon as I find out you read it. They might think of you as a menace now, some kind of threat, but I know you have it in you to do something about all this, the right thing to do. As for who I am? Just call me Apollo for now. Trust me, I might be the only 'friend' you have anymore.
As soon as I hear back from you, meet me at the janitor's closet in the west hall after school. Once you're there, we can get this show on the road.
"Huh..." Blake was baffled at how, besides Derick, someone else knew he secret, though it wasn't much of a secret in general especially since there was a decent mass of people at that party, but they seemed to know about him and his secret since he managed to get out fairly quickly before the cops showed up. Blake was now looking at his phone with keen suspicion, as if it were questioning him personally.
Locking his phone and holding his ax in one hand and his camera in the other, he headed back inside with a new plan ahead of him.
Let's see if your the key to my problem, Apollo. Blake questioned as he went inside his home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today
Central City High School
West Hall Janitor's Closet
5:46 pm
Blake paced himself as he traversed the crowded halls filled with eager students heading towards the school's exit. Making sure to avoid the attention of others he knew walked and sneaking past the classrooms that a few teachers remained in to grade students work or plan their new out their new lessons for the next school day. As he finally made his way into west hall he sighted two others already standing in front of the janitor's closet. At first he was hesitant on continuing onward as he figured he be alone with just one other person, not the latter. Even with multiple questioning thoughts debating within his mind, Blake approached them regardless.
"So... I'm assuming you guys got the same, message, right?" he asked. | Name: Blake Smith
Age: 17
Grade: Junior
Codename: Phaser
Powers:
Adrenaline Enhanceed - Blake has the gained abilty to manually control his adrenal glads and the output of adrenaline pumped into throughout his entire body system. Having this ability has it's own unqiue perks and risks when using this ability, for example whenever he feels a rush waving over him, he starts to feel he can move faster, spot and react to things faster. When this is combined with his skill of using hand weapons he is faster then any swordsman ever named in history, making his skills unmatched with this combination, but at the same time he is unable to stop the rush of strength and speed if he doesn't keep his mind mentally stable which could send him to the over the edge to insanity and only having the thought of gaining any type of excitement whether it was in the heat moment of battle or just the possible thought of killing anything. . .
Plasma Energy - Blake has the ability of controlling the power of plasma, but he is only able to use it over his weapons giving of a green hue of burning energy over his weapons when used for enchantment, coating himself in it as well giving him an extra set protection and keeping others at bay or using it as a weapon it's self focusing the coverage of it on his hands and feet whenever needed to use it when he was out of a blades reach. Even with the use of the green plasma he could only use it on what he focused it on if he were to use it on all together it wouldn't be of any use as it would disperses with ease, but still causing a small amount of damage as well.
He stood at 5'10 and weighed 195 pounds. His main attire consisted of any type of plaid shirts over his t-shirts with either a pair of black or blue jeans, or a pair of cargo shorts and he only liked Levi shoes, he never understood what was the big deal with owning a pair of Jordan's that ranged over two hundred dollars.
School clubs or achievements: Blake's hobby in Fencing and Sword-Dueling has been his favorite pastime whenever he isn't swamped with loads of schoolwork or exceptionally huge research projects. He has also, in secrecy from his family's judgment, has took his fair share in participating in some live action role playing events that took place in different parts in the city giving him a bit more wider range on the types of meele weapons used during the old years of Renaissance. There wasn't a bladed weapon he thought he wasn't capable of using."
Brief bio: Blake, he was a true to the heart geek, he might not look like it at all, but he was indeed a handsome looking one. from reading comics and learning the lore and backgrounds of his favorite heros and villains to having an entire collections on Greek mythology. It was his true passion, and that was something he was proud of being, but his parents they never understood why or when he was interested into the weird things, they called it, he found joyful. They were still proud parents nonetheless of his accomplishments and seeing him getting ready for the next stage in his life after he graduated, that's if he got past his junior year without any distractions, then he'd be on his way to College. Blake was excited about the thought of soon being out of school as well and wanted to celebrate it, by going out to the party, which he was not invited to, but he went anyway. |
8,113 | 217 | 4 | 2,356 | 5,042 | Since the small group was starting to gather awkwardly by the janitor door Caroline made her way over. Somehow she had managed to slip into her white suit and ninja her way there without really getting spotted. Overhearing one of them mention Apollo when she came into view she smiled softly. "He's not Apollo. I'm glad you boys could make it. We better get inside before we draw unwanted attention. I'll let us in." The door unlocked and opened to reveal Carolyn on the other side. She was wearing the matching black outfit. "Please come in. Herding the likely confused teens in the they closed the door and stood next to each other. For those that knew the council member surely someone would have pointed out her having a twin before now.
"You're probably a little confused right now so I'll explain a little. Yes there are two of me. She is Caroline and you can call me Carolyn, just so things aren't too confusing. If that helps at all." Carolyn said before stopping. Her double picked up from there. Thanks to Apollo I know that all of you were at the party last week and exposed to the gas. So was I, and you can see the more obvious result." She motioned to her twin. "Obviously the results are very different for everyone. But the main thing is that we all all target. Especially since there are are others that are using their newfound powers in crimes. And we're hoping to change that." Looking back she pretty much signaled for Appolo to come up. | Name: Caroline and Carolyn Bowen
Grade: Junior
Codename: Solar Eclipse
Powers: The first result of her powers manifesting was Caraline splitting into two people. While technically the same person they can move about and do things independently. Being opposites they are drawn to each other at all times and distance apart weakens their powers. When they are close they seem to have a mental link with which to share information. Extended periods of separation (several days) results in uncontrolled bursts of the opposite "twin's" power.
Solar (Caroline): Usually dons white and is capable of manipulating and produce beams of light. These beams are able to burn objects or temporarily blind people.
Eclipse (Carolyn): Usually dons black and is able to manipulate and produce shadows. The shadows are able to take on physical properties so long as she is in direct contact with them.
Appearance:
Clubs or Achievements: Caroline is very active in the student body. Acting in the student council she plays a part in many school related student activities and events. Because of what she does most likely see her as the overachieving control freak. At one time she participated in cheerleading and photography club but a lot of her time is eaten up nowadays. She is always looking for another great idea to pitch.
Brief Bio: Caroline grew up in a family of workers. Both her mother and father had full time jobs but always found time in the evening and weekends to spend with their daughter. Some children might not like that kind of situation but for the young girl it was a source of inspiration. If her parents were working hard then so would she. At least that was the idea. School seemed to get in the way of that until she joined the cheerleading squad.
While it was great working with a team she felt there was more she could do and began to dabble more in the political aspects of the school. Finding a particular liking and knack for organization and planning she took on several tasks. Over time she worked her way up to student council where Caroline felt she could make the most difference. There she and the other members coordinated numerous events, fundraisers, and activities. One day word reached her of a party being arranged that many students were going to. Curious about how this had slipped past them she planned to attend, if for no other reason but to see what was up. But hey, it's a party. Who really needs an excuse to go to one of those? |
8,114 | 217 | 5 | 694 | 2,139 | Adrian glanced over seeing the young man asking about 'Apollo' and if he was the mysterious figure in question. “Please, do I look like I'm wearing USA boxing trunks and have a sweet afro?” Adrian joked as he glanced around, still wondering if this was all some weird elaborate ruse. If it was though this guy made him wonder if they had something in common. He knew nothing about the guy outside of presumably he was a fellow student here. Even then he can't even remember if his seen the guy actually attending school that often.
Another guy showed up, one who Adrian knew a bit more since he ran in the same kind of friend groups but they never really connected with his circle of friends. Adrian shrugged at the question asked this time but before he could say another stupid joke no one probably would get. Caroline arrived looking like some kind of cyber ninja thing. He knew all about Caroline, the student counsel darling. He didn't realize that she had access to the grid and Tron. “Uh sure, Sam Flynn...” Adrian muttered until he walked into the closet and Caroline was there. Pausing Adrian looked back at Caroline and then to Caroline... Caroline... Caroline... Caroline... Caroline... The constant looking back and forth made Adrian's head literally spin on his neck until he fell over in confusion.
At her cue though from out of the back of the closet came a young man, casually wheeling himself up in his wheel chair. Fairly nondescript looking, messy blond hair, glasses, t-shirt and jeans with sneakers. “Greetings, hopefully this whole thing isn't too jarring so far.” The young man started as he moved his chair over to a nearby roll of paper. “I promise things shouldn't be too vague from here on out. I mean I am keeping my name for each of you at Apollo. But in due time I'll be happy to explain everything.” The small janitor's closet did have some space, even though it was never used as the janitors all usually just used another closet nearby. Something that worked in Apollo's favors by the looks of things. “Now then, lets just get into the matter at hand. We were all at the party last week where things got a bit... unsavory. Since police don't seem to be in a hurry to solve anything, and some of our fellow party goers have started causing plenty of trouble on their own, possibly someone else's calling. I see this all as a chance for some of us who can do something about it, do something about it.” Apollo noted putting the roll of paper up onto a small table but leaving it rolled up for the time being. | Name: Adrian Horne
Grade: Junior
Codename: THE GREAT RUBBERBANDO!!!!!!! (Though pretty much everyone else will be calling him Rubberbando)
Powers: Able to stretch his body and limbs up too three miles long from toes to fingertips. Can also contort, remold himself, and flatten or inflate. With a little training Adrian has learned how to remold himself to look completely different, with a wig and contacts he can change everything about himself to look like anyone else entirely
Stands at around a modest 5'9 and is 142 pounds before the incident. His weight now, despite looking the same, is a meager 52 pounds. Normally wears simple, comfortable clothes. T-shirts, fairly loose jeans, sneakers.
Clubs or Achievements: Student and trainer at Bella Dance Academy, knows how to play piano, member and vice president of high school thespians club.
Brief Bio: Adrian from the start seemingly had his path laid out for him. His father was one of England's finest Shakespearean actors of the last 20 some off years, and his mom was a talented ballerina dancer who fell for his father during rehearsals for a performance of The Nutcracker. The two moved to Central City when Adrian's father was hired to work with the city's performance center of the arts as an administrative. Meanwhile his mom Bella proceeded to create Bella Dance Academy.
With Adrian following in both of their footsteps the path may seem daunting, but thankfully on top of being skilled in their arts. Both had a very approachable personality and willingness to work with their son in dance and acting, even with their son's seemingly goofy nature. A goofy nature that only got worse when Adrian started going to his school's drama classes and seeing the similarly silly classmates who quickly grew to be close friends.
Though that isn't to say Adrian is some dork who has twinkle toes and knows the lyrics to every Disney song ever (Seriously he has a staggering collection of Disney VHS tapes in their original clam shell cases). Adrian is a man who expects a lot from himself. Someone who doesn't ask for respect but demands it through his work. In local high school acting competitions Adrian has been a constant favorite to win, and in dance his ballet techniques have made him a teacher of sorts for the younger, more inexperienced students. Though when someone makes fun of him for his time in ballet and dance. Adrian calmly smiles and simply usually says “I'm the only guy in a class of about 14 cute girls... momma didn't raise no fool.”
When it came time to cut loose, Adrian was planning a quiet night at the house watching The Producers on DVD with a bowl of popcorn when one of his classmates told him about a big party going on. Eventually he got talked into going, something he now deeply regrets. |
8,115 | 217 | 6 | 1,243 | 1,011 | Aaron sighed at Adrian's joke when he realized that he was talking about Apollo Creed from the Rocky franchise. He wasn't sure that he'd call Apollo's afro sweet. So this guy wasn't the Apollo that messaged him. That meant that he wasn't the only one that got the text message. His suspicions seemed to be proven correct when Blake appeared and asked if they got the same message. Great. This was already starting out wrong. These two didn't seem quite too familiar to him and he wasn't exactly surprised. They seemed to be people on different sides of the spectrum from him.
Things took a turn when a girl in a super techy looking suit came up behind them. Adrian came up with another movie reference. At least this one was more justifiable as she did look like she could have been in a Tron movie. She was the only one that he actually recognized, but who wouldn't? Her face was always plastered somewhere as she was in the student council and used to be a cheerleader. When she opened the door to the closet he had a feeling that she had some connection to this Apollo guy. She couldn't be Apollo, right?
When the door was finally opened another Caroline was on the opposite side, but was dressed in black. Were they sisters? Twins? Almost instantly the song, "Real Sisters" by Future came to his mind. The gas created a twin of her? That was very interesting. Just what were the limitations of this accident?
He listened to Apollo and couldn't recall if he saw someone at the party that was in a wheelchair. He wasn't sure how he could possibly miss that.
"How do we know that we can trust you?" He started. "You started things off with a lie. In my message you told me that I was the only person you sent this to. I'm guessing you told the others the same thing. I want to know what I'm getting myself into and I'd like if it was the truth." | Name: Aaron Russell
Grade: Junior
Codename: Voltaic
Powers: Super-Conductive Electromagnetism: Aaron can sense sources of electromagnetic energy or objects that can be affected by it such as underground water pipes. He can magnetize and demagnetize metals. He can also manipulate and generate electromagnetic fields, but since he's fairly new at using his powers he has some training to do before he can do more with this ability.
Electrokinesis: Aaron can generate electricity from his body and administer it in a range of different attacks and uses. He can charge devices, drain devices and project his electricity in a variety of controlled ways.
Clubs or Achievements: Despite his rough background Aaron is very smart. He's not in any clubs or organizations, but he has one of the highest grade point averages in the school. It would be higher if he didn't skip class as much as he did.
Brief Bio: Aaron's life wasn't always bad. In fact before seventh grade he had the greatest life. He was living in New York with two loving parents until the summer after fifth grade. His dad ended up getting transferred to the Central City Police Department as a detective and his mother was able to transfer with her news anchor job.
They moved to Central City and everything seemed to be going fine. Despite their busy schedules they spent time with their son and Aaron had new friends that were even better than the ones he had in elementary. One day while he was in seventh grade his dad got killed on the job and that left Aaron with something missing. He didn't have a father figure to look up to anymore and someone who could look after him. This is what got him into the gang life.
He had a new family that seemed to care for him and protected him just as he protected them. He never had to kill anyone, but that didn't mean he didn't have to fight someone. He did a lot of that and even got good at it. He was so good at criminal activity to the point where he never got caught committing any criminal acts.
On the night of the party he had a job to do in a nearby warehouse. One thing led to another and he ended up escaping the police by going to the party. Would the events of that night change his life and put him back on the right path? Maybe, maybe not.
Spoiler Alert: He does end up put him on the right path. |
8,116 | 217 | 7 | 2,668 | 136 | Blake stood silent for the time, mainly due to still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Apollo, was indeed in fact some guy in a wheel chair with the knowledge of the incident at the warehouse party. Somehow he knew about his, including those currently present, very unique abilities. Blake only vaguely recognized the school president, to which his surprise had a twin and were in suits made out of... he didn't know, all he knew was that it resembled suits like that from Tron. He vaguely knew who Adrian was, having only spoken to or around him a few times when he hung around mutual friends they had known. The other guy though, he hand't seen him before, but Blake did notice he had a bit of a begrudging look about him.
He placed his index finger and thumb on his finger as he ran through his thoughts, as well as not really paying attention to the conversation taking place in the small sized space of the closet. Seriously? what's up with the weird looking suits? Why not a more spaced location then a closet? A park or the restaurant would've been better, surely? Though it does seem more thoughtful, in case of watchful eyes... Also where the hell was he at the party? Blake went into a series of questions with himself as they continued to talk.
"-nd I'd like if it was the truth." He'd only managed to catch that last part of that sentence as he came out of his bombardment of questions to himself. Blake hand't had a clue what he said, so he just went along for the ride. "Yeah, what he said. pointing his thumb over to Aaron. | Name: Blake Smith
Age: 17
Grade: Junior
Codename: Phaser
Powers:
Adrenaline Enhanceed - Blake has the gained abilty to manually control his adrenal glads and the output of adrenaline pumped into throughout his entire body system. Having this ability has it's own unqiue perks and risks when using this ability, for example whenever he feels a rush waving over him, he starts to feel he can move faster, spot and react to things faster. When this is combined with his skill of using hand weapons he is faster then any swordsman ever named in history, making his skills unmatched with this combination, but at the same time he is unable to stop the rush of strength and speed if he doesn't keep his mind mentally stable which could send him to the over the edge to insanity and only having the thought of gaining any type of excitement whether it was in the heat moment of battle or just the possible thought of killing anything. . .
Plasma Energy - Blake has the ability of controlling the power of plasma, but he is only able to use it over his weapons giving of a green hue of burning energy over his weapons when used for enchantment, coating himself in it as well giving him an extra set protection and keeping others at bay or using it as a weapon it's self focusing the coverage of it on his hands and feet whenever needed to use it when he was out of a blades reach. Even with the use of the green plasma he could only use it on what he focused it on if he were to use it on all together it wouldn't be of any use as it would disperses with ease, but still causing a small amount of damage as well.
He stood at 5'10 and weighed 195 pounds. His main attire consisted of any type of plaid shirts over his t-shirts with either a pair of black or blue jeans, or a pair of cargo shorts and he only liked Levi shoes, he never understood what was the big deal with owning a pair of Jordan's that ranged over two hundred dollars.
School clubs or achievements: Blake's hobby in Fencing and Sword-Dueling has been his favorite pastime whenever he isn't swamped with loads of schoolwork or exceptionally huge research projects. He has also, in secrecy from his family's judgment, has took his fair share in participating in some live action role playing events that took place in different parts in the city giving him a bit more wider range on the types of meele weapons used during the old years of Renaissance. There wasn't a bladed weapon he thought he wasn't capable of using."
Brief bio: Blake, he was a true to the heart geek, he might not look like it at all, but he was indeed a handsome looking one. from reading comics and learning the lore and backgrounds of his favorite heros and villains to having an entire collections on Greek mythology. It was his true passion, and that was something he was proud of being, but his parents they never understood why or when he was interested into the weird things, they called it, he found joyful. They were still proud parents nonetheless of his accomplishments and seeing him getting ready for the next stage in his life after he graduated, that's if he got past his junior year without any distractions, then he'd be on his way to College. Blake was excited about the thought of soon being out of school as well and wanted to celebrate it, by going out to the party, which he was not invited to, but he went anyway. |
8,117 | 217 | 8 | 2,356 | 5,042 | The twin girls stepped up with Caroline offered an explanation up front. "Sorry if that was misleading. That wording was ours, it sounded better. Force of habit." They glanced at one another and Carolyn picked up from there. "But that's besides the point. We were all exposed to the gas. I'm sure you've heard that the authorities are beginning to take notice. Left unchecked the others from the party making trouble will eventually catch up to the rest of us." | Name: Caroline and Carolyn Bowen
Grade: Junior
Codename: Solar Eclipse
Powers: The first result of her powers manifesting was Caraline splitting into two people. While technically the same person they can move about and do things independently. Being opposites they are drawn to each other at all times and distance apart weakens their powers. When they are close they seem to have a mental link with which to share information. Extended periods of separation (several days) results in uncontrolled bursts of the opposite "twin's" power.
Solar (Caroline): Usually dons white and is capable of manipulating and produce beams of light. These beams are able to burn objects or temporarily blind people.
Eclipse (Carolyn): Usually dons black and is able to manipulate and produce shadows. The shadows are able to take on physical properties so long as she is in direct contact with them.
Appearance:
Clubs or Achievements: Caroline is very active in the student body. Acting in the student council she plays a part in many school related student activities and events. Because of what she does most likely see her as the overachieving control freak. At one time she participated in cheerleading and photography club but a lot of her time is eaten up nowadays. She is always looking for another great idea to pitch.
Brief Bio: Caroline grew up in a family of workers. Both her mother and father had full time jobs but always found time in the evening and weekends to spend with their daughter. Some children might not like that kind of situation but for the young girl it was a source of inspiration. If her parents were working hard then so would she. At least that was the idea. School seemed to get in the way of that until she joined the cheerleading squad.
While it was great working with a team she felt there was more she could do and began to dabble more in the political aspects of the school. Finding a particular liking and knack for organization and planning she took on several tasks. Over time she worked her way up to student council where Caroline felt she could make the most difference. There she and the other members coordinated numerous events, fundraisers, and activities. One day word reached her of a party being arranged that many students were going to. Curious about how this had slipped past them she planned to attend, if for no other reason but to see what was up. But hey, it's a party. Who really needs an excuse to go to one of those? |
8,118 | 217 | 9 | 694 | 2,139 | “Not to mention that when it comes to my vagueness on everything, unfortunately discretion is the name of the game.” Apollo noted after Carolyn finished talking. “I don't have enough evidence to back it up completely, but ever since the incident people are watching. Not just the people who you think would but a lot more.”
“Well first things first, where were you at the party? I mean no offense but I think I'd remember you if I saw you.” Adrian noted not wanting to play accuser but instead just wanting answers. Really in the sense of figuring he could play good cop to Aaron's bad cop act.
“Well I was the DJ.” Apollo answered matter of fact.
Adrian's eyebrow raised up, “You're kidding...”
“No I'm not, if I was kidding I'd say something to the effect of a horse walks into a bar, and the bartender says 'Why the long face?'” Apollo replied back. Before though he could let the others dwell on what he just said. He pulled up a video on the computer and started playing it. It was surveillance of the party from that night. Skipping between a few shots, one of which showed a very vague shadowing of what Aaron and his gang members were up too, not enough though for Adrian, Apollo, or either Caroline who has already seen the video. Finally a shot showed indeed someone at the top of the DJ stand and they were clearly wheelchair bound. “I've always loved electronic music, Gary Numan is my hero.” Apollo noted a bit absentmindedly. “Regardless there's more to this video than just me proving myself. Take a look.”
The video kept going, the mash up of Basement Jaxx's 'Where's Your Head At?' and Dizzee Rascal's 'Bonkers' playing when suddenly a quick violent shaking happens with the security camera right when the lights cut out. “See that?” Apollo asked the others as he rewind the footage and played it again. Adrian with his arms folded becoming very interested. “Wouldn't that be from whatever was powering the event?” He asked aloud.
“Not necessarily.” Apollo flipped around, rolling back over to the table where he unrolled the tube of paper. Revealing it to be a blueprint of the very warehouse. “See that particular camera was set up here, in the northwest part of the main room where everyone was. The generator for the event though was here, in the southeast outside of the warehouse itself.” Apollo circled everything as he went. “Now when I found the security footage I just showed you, it not only brought up a possibility of something more having happened that night. But I think a very important question should be asked.” Apollo looked up at the three guys.
“This particular area of warehouses were decommissioned in the mid-90s. They haven't been used since and all but abandoned. So why is there security cameras there that are operational?”
Adrian's eyes shot open realizing what Apollo was getting at. “You're saying we were all set up?”
“Bingo.” | Name: Adrian Horne
Grade: Junior
Codename: THE GREAT RUBBERBANDO!!!!!!! (Though pretty much everyone else will be calling him Rubberbando)
Powers: Able to stretch his body and limbs up too three miles long from toes to fingertips. Can also contort, remold himself, and flatten or inflate. With a little training Adrian has learned how to remold himself to look completely different, with a wig and contacts he can change everything about himself to look like anyone else entirely
Stands at around a modest 5'9 and is 142 pounds before the incident. His weight now, despite looking the same, is a meager 52 pounds. Normally wears simple, comfortable clothes. T-shirts, fairly loose jeans, sneakers.
Clubs or Achievements: Student and trainer at Bella Dance Academy, knows how to play piano, member and vice president of high school thespians club.
Brief Bio: Adrian from the start seemingly had his path laid out for him. His father was one of England's finest Shakespearean actors of the last 20 some off years, and his mom was a talented ballerina dancer who fell for his father during rehearsals for a performance of The Nutcracker. The two moved to Central City when Adrian's father was hired to work with the city's performance center of the arts as an administrative. Meanwhile his mom Bella proceeded to create Bella Dance Academy.
With Adrian following in both of their footsteps the path may seem daunting, but thankfully on top of being skilled in their arts. Both had a very approachable personality and willingness to work with their son in dance and acting, even with their son's seemingly goofy nature. A goofy nature that only got worse when Adrian started going to his school's drama classes and seeing the similarly silly classmates who quickly grew to be close friends.
Though that isn't to say Adrian is some dork who has twinkle toes and knows the lyrics to every Disney song ever (Seriously he has a staggering collection of Disney VHS tapes in their original clam shell cases). Adrian is a man who expects a lot from himself. Someone who doesn't ask for respect but demands it through his work. In local high school acting competitions Adrian has been a constant favorite to win, and in dance his ballet techniques have made him a teacher of sorts for the younger, more inexperienced students. Though when someone makes fun of him for his time in ballet and dance. Adrian calmly smiles and simply usually says “I'm the only guy in a class of about 14 cute girls... momma didn't raise no fool.”
When it came time to cut loose, Adrian was planning a quiet night at the house watching The Producers on DVD with a bowl of popcorn when one of his classmates told him about a big party going on. Eventually he got talked into going, something he now deeply regrets. |
8,119 | 217 | 10 | 1,243 | 1,011 | Aaron looked at Blake as he agreed with him. They quickly got their answer from the twins. He couldn't really be mad at them though. They were right though. The ones going unchecked will definitely make problems for them. If he didn't set his mind right he would have been one of the unchecked ones. He still had the possibility of others in his gang being like him or like monsters. He didn't feel like bringing that up right at this moment though. That was better saved for later. Adrian decided to ask more questions after they received their initial answer from the twins. The one that was also on his mind as well. It did make sense that Apollo had been the DJ at the party. It would have made sense as to why he didn't recognize him there.
He looked at the shots from the video that Apollo was showing them and hoped that the others didn't get a good glimpse of what was happening with him and his crew. They probably didn't, fortunately. He continued watching the video to ease his concern and listened to the two speak back and forth until they came to the conclusion that this party was a set-up from the jump. Some twisted person made experiments of a bunch of teenagers. It made things interesting, but it also made him mad. What if they all received negative reactions to whatever happened? What if they had all died? How could someone just play with their lives like that?
"I don't know about you all, but I want to have a not so friendly conversation with whoever did this to us." He turned to Apollo now. "You were the DJ. Who hired you for the job? They could be the first lead on this." | Name: Aaron Russell
Grade: Junior
Codename: Voltaic
Powers: Super-Conductive Electromagnetism: Aaron can sense sources of electromagnetic energy or objects that can be affected by it such as underground water pipes. He can magnetize and demagnetize metals. He can also manipulate and generate electromagnetic fields, but since he's fairly new at using his powers he has some training to do before he can do more with this ability.
Electrokinesis: Aaron can generate electricity from his body and administer it in a range of different attacks and uses. He can charge devices, drain devices and project his electricity in a variety of controlled ways.
Clubs or Achievements: Despite his rough background Aaron is very smart. He's not in any clubs or organizations, but he has one of the highest grade point averages in the school. It would be higher if he didn't skip class as much as he did.
Brief Bio: Aaron's life wasn't always bad. In fact before seventh grade he had the greatest life. He was living in New York with two loving parents until the summer after fifth grade. His dad ended up getting transferred to the Central City Police Department as a detective and his mother was able to transfer with her news anchor job.
They moved to Central City and everything seemed to be going fine. Despite their busy schedules they spent time with their son and Aaron had new friends that were even better than the ones he had in elementary. One day while he was in seventh grade his dad got killed on the job and that left Aaron with something missing. He didn't have a father figure to look up to anymore and someone who could look after him. This is what got him into the gang life.
He had a new family that seemed to care for him and protected him just as he protected them. He never had to kill anyone, but that didn't mean he didn't have to fight someone. He did a lot of that and even got good at it. He was so good at criminal activity to the point where he never got caught committing any criminal acts.
On the night of the party he had a job to do in a nearby warehouse. One thing led to another and he ended up escaping the police by going to the party. Would the events of that night change his life and put him back on the right path? Maybe, maybe not.
Spoiler Alert: He does end up put him on the right path. |
8,120 | 217 | 11 | 2,668 | 136 | Blake simply waited for a response after being further questioned. One mainly due to the fact that it was actually a good question, beats any of the few generic questions he thought about. Two because he wanted to learn of the dangers that could potentionally put them in danger and put those around in harms way a well. In the back of his mind the simple thought of his family or friends getting hurt got to him, but he pushed those dreadful thoughts away, crossing his arms as he patiently waiting for an answer. | Name: Blake Smith
Age: 17
Grade: Junior
Codename: Phaser
Powers:
Adrenaline Enhanceed - Blake has the gained abilty to manually control his adrenal glads and the output of adrenaline pumped into throughout his entire body system. Having this ability has it's own unqiue perks and risks when using this ability, for example whenever he feels a rush waving over him, he starts to feel he can move faster, spot and react to things faster. When this is combined with his skill of using hand weapons he is faster then any swordsman ever named in history, making his skills unmatched with this combination, but at the same time he is unable to stop the rush of strength and speed if he doesn't keep his mind mentally stable which could send him to the over the edge to insanity and only having the thought of gaining any type of excitement whether it was in the heat moment of battle or just the possible thought of killing anything. . .
Plasma Energy - Blake has the ability of controlling the power of plasma, but he is only able to use it over his weapons giving of a green hue of burning energy over his weapons when used for enchantment, coating himself in it as well giving him an extra set protection and keeping others at bay or using it as a weapon it's self focusing the coverage of it on his hands and feet whenever needed to use it when he was out of a blades reach. Even with the use of the green plasma he could only use it on what he focused it on if he were to use it on all together it wouldn't be of any use as it would disperses with ease, but still causing a small amount of damage as well.
He stood at 5'10 and weighed 195 pounds. His main attire consisted of any type of plaid shirts over his t-shirts with either a pair of black or blue jeans, or a pair of cargo shorts and he only liked Levi shoes, he never understood what was the big deal with owning a pair of Jordan's that ranged over two hundred dollars.
School clubs or achievements: Blake's hobby in Fencing and Sword-Dueling has been his favorite pastime whenever he isn't swamped with loads of schoolwork or exceptionally huge research projects. He has also, in secrecy from his family's judgment, has took his fair share in participating in some live action role playing events that took place in different parts in the city giving him a bit more wider range on the types of meele weapons used during the old years of Renaissance. There wasn't a bladed weapon he thought he wasn't capable of using."
Brief bio: Blake, he was a true to the heart geek, he might not look like it at all, but he was indeed a handsome looking one. from reading comics and learning the lore and backgrounds of his favorite heros and villains to having an entire collections on Greek mythology. It was his true passion, and that was something he was proud of being, but his parents they never understood why or when he was interested into the weird things, they called it, he found joyful. They were still proud parents nonetheless of his accomplishments and seeing him getting ready for the next stage in his life after he graduated, that's if he got past his junior year without any distractions, then he'd be on his way to College. Blake was excited about the thought of soon being out of school as well and wanted to celebrate it, by going out to the party, which he was not invited to, but he went anyway. |
8,121 | 218 | 0 | 1,620 | 74 | (Looks like im starting this then, edits can be done. It was just a bit hard to know how this place looks)
Henry walked along the dark murky streets, avoiding everyone that passes him by. He is not completely sure what is waiting for him, but he does not care. All that’s on his mind is to get to the underworld. He sneaks around trying not to get seen, because he knows the moment his parents hear about this they will fry him alive. They have told him to say away from this place, that he should never set his foot inside the door, but from what he has heard this is where everyone gathers.
Walking along he picks up speed, almost running. He has to get there, he just has to. From what he knows he has to go north and he also knows it’s an old gang lair. He walks by stores, houses until he ends up standing in the middle of the street without a single clue of where to go. “Just my luck” He says to himself as he starts walking back and forth. “Where can this place be?” as he asks himself he looks around himself once again.
But there, in the corner of his eye he sees someone heading for an old building. Whoever it is, is much faster than him and he can’t keep up, but at least now he has an idea of where he could try to go. Running towards the building he sees that it looks dark, but it feels strangely right to head towards it. He heads to the door, but then out of the shadows a guard shows up and pushes him back. Henry stands there clearly freaked out.
The huge guard looks down at him and with a deep voice says "Never seen you around here kid, what do you want ?" it takes a few moments before he asks "Kid are you deaf ? Why...are...you...here ?" He says the last part extremely slowly to make sure that even the dumbest guys around would get it.
"I.. I want to get into the underworld. " Henry says stuttering a bit, but still keeping his calm, at least on the outside. "It's here, right ?" the way Henry asks makes the guard laugh, but he explains that Henry is right and that this is the way into the underworld. However if he should let Henry in was a totally other question.
"Show me kid, show me that you belong down there" just those few words makes Henry question if this is really worth it, what if he fails ? what is even down there ?
Henry takes a deep breath and then snaps his fingers a few sparks fly into to the air, but the guard does not seem to have noticed. Henry again takes a deep breath, but this time he does not snap his fingers. He makes a low hymning sound, its clear, calm and most of all melodious. Soon a small wind blows trough the area and then out of nowhere it happens, a small fire floats in Henry's hand, getting bigger as his voice goes up pitches.
The guard steps away "your alright kid, just don't get killed" and with that the guard melts into the shadows once again. Henry lets the flame fade out and then he walks into the underworld, for the first time in his life he does not have to hide who he is. | Name:
Henry Trafalgar
Gender:
Male
Age:
18
Race:
Human (wizard)
Biography:
As the child of two wizards Henry was bound to have magical powers, that however did not stop his parents from hiding it. They did everything without magic and didn’t as much as blow the leaves away by messing with the wind. No they lived just as normal people or they did until Henry started to make things happen. They were happy and Henry lived without any knowledge of what he was capable off. That was the moment they knew that if they didn’t teach their kid how to control himself this would get out of hand.
Because you see at the age of 12 Henry started to watch anime, dragon ball z to be right on point and as all children he started to pretend fight with his friends. His mom meant it was adorable and didn’t break it up before she saw a strange small glowing orb in her child’s hands. She ran out and picked up Henry before he got done with his Kamehameha, to Henry’s great disappointment. When she asked Henry how he had learned to do that he just answered “that guy in the anime did it and I practiced really hard and now I can do it” That was the point in time where is parents slowly but surely told him that firing bolts of energy at your friends is not something you should be doing.
Now he is has learned all of his parent’s tricks and magical abilities he is more careful, he thinks much more about his actions. He uses magic to blow the leaves however…. Nobody wants to do that by hand. He has continued to live a sheltered life and has not used his abilities in front of anyone, but that’s all about to change.
Personality:’
He is extremely well mannered and polite. He is not the kind that will step on your toes or say a bad word about you, but that does not mean he likes you. He finds it extremely easy to smile when his whole body is just trembling with the urge to lash out and turn whatever is in front of him to ashes. His hunger for power and knowledge is extreme and he often forgets the time and ends up reading the whole night.
But his life has also made him rather lonely, he is afraid that if he shows someone what he can do they will just call him a freak and run. He hates keeping it all in and now its time to let it all go (best song tie in ever !)
Preferred Weaponry:
Not any weapons to note
Notable Possessions:
The key around his neck
He always has the key with him and holds onto it for dear life. Some even dear to say that the key is what will unlock his past.
Theme Song:
Miscellaneous:
Don’t fuck with his hair… if you know whats best for you. |
8,122 | 218 | 1 | 676 | 780 | Seven people have been found dead the last week, I'm not at liberty to discuss whom, but two were very important individuals, it's going to set back our plans by at least half a year. Michael gestured on the table, pointing out seven little sections "Five humans dead, with two of our kind bookending the spree. Humans died on the weekdays, this is of course a pattern, but most likely meaningless."
"But were any other deaths connected to this group this week or recently? Just those seven?"
"No, just the initial seven, we of course have reason to believe they will strike again, try to remove our support, if that is indeed their goal, or perhaps do something completely unexpected, we have no way to know. So far, all of my contacts have tightened security, I suggest you do the same."
Cyrus adjusted his hat and glared down at the table, nobody really knew where he lived, but he supposed it was a good idea to be safe. "Did you put up the bounty note? I'm going to go sign it myself, see what we can dig up." He knew he would probably need help, a combination of witnesses and other evidence indicated these murders were connected but by a group, probably a large one. One werewolf, even one of the most prolific hunters in the city, couldn't do much to an organization.
"See anybody you'd like to recruit for the job? The usual hunter's table is over there." Michael pointed to a round table in the back corner where a group was playing some form of poker, with a guard carefully watching in case things went out of hand. "Or you can just go sign the bounty note and wait around to see who else does." | Name: Cyrus “Cy” Samuels
Appearance:
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Race: Werewolf
Biography: Cyrus was born to one of the last traditional werewolf packs in the world, a clan spread through most of Australia. The pack operated somewhat like a mafia, wiping out individuals who threatened their interests and living a life of general luxury, in spite of their lack of morals. Cyrus was raised to hate humanity, consider them as merely prey and incapable of any “wolf-like” virtues such as honor or cunning. As he grew up in the pack, he was taught to fight from a very young age. He was born during a time when there had been a large amount of new pups and so to keep the population down they were to fight in a ring for the amusement of the pack. Being one of the few to make it out of the deathmatches when he was only five years old, he was considered to be a promising young wolf who would do excellent work for the pack.
For the next six years he was taught many things, how to use human made weapons like guns and knives, as well as his natural tools to intimidate, assault, and kill humans as well as some other Supernaturals such as vampires. Despite the wide ranging power of the pack, they had many enemies, and several exiled members as well as Supernatural vigilantes conspired with the police force to wipe them out once and for all. A special forces raid was ultimately decided to break it up, though it was kept very under the table with the Australian government and for the most part the vigilantes did the fighting. Thirty-one Werewolves were killed that day, though the public only knew it as a raid on a crime ring.
Within the chaos, a young Cyrus, using his werewolf cunning, devised a way to survive. Keeping himself in his human form, he took a knife and pinned himself to a wall by the hands, when the vigilantes came in, he claimed to be a human child that the pack had taken captive. Despite knowing something suspicious was up, he was let go and put for adoption. He was a good actor, and lived out the rest of his childhood and teenage years in relative peace. Other than those few full moon nights where he always seemed to go missing.
At 18 he got a letter delivered specifically to him, it was one of the bounty hunters who had been responsible for wrecking his family. Inside it merely said “I know what you are kid, but you've behaved well, I can't believe you are as bad as those who raised you. So go to Blackbury, it's a city in England that's very friendly to our kind, you can find work that suits your... 'talents.' Should you wish.”
Cyrus said goodbye to his foster parents and left for England with what meager money they could scrape up. Immediately upon arrival, he received a very warm welcome, he was invited to come to a certain club, and was offered a job that he would “enjoy.”
Underworld seemed nice enough, the owner was remarkably personable for a Vampire, and even offered to let Cyrus stay in one of the back rooms of the bar while he got on his feet in the new city. Bounty hunting was an exhilarating job that Cyrus came to love. And after 6 years he has become one of the most established hunters of the dark in all of Blackbury.
Personality: Cyrus is, contrary to his upbringing, kind and with a sense of justice. His early experiences forever put him against his own species, he for a long time considered most werewolves to be vicious monsters like his family was, and has only recently come to rectify this attitude. He tries to treat all races with respect and dignity, as well as remaining humble about himself.
Weaponry: Cyrus was trained with all manner of lethal tools but was particularly trained with concealable ones. As a result, he carries knives and handguns. He has a large personal collection of both and all sorts of modifications, as well as connections with black market arms dealers. (Supernaturals skirt the law and can get away with a lot, even gun control laws in England)
Possessions: His own weapon collection, magically enchanted clothes that will remain whole when he shapeshifts, a sizable amount of saved money.
Theme Song: I'm My Own Master Now
Miscellaneous: |
8,123 | 218 | 2 | 43 | 91 | Jakob watched from a distance as a boy no older than himself was questioned by the bouncer. The bouncer was massive, a man built like a tank and covered in hair everywhere except on his head. And Jakob could hear the man's loud, hoarse voice despite the fact he himself was stood across the street, leaning against a street corner. Jakob watched as the boy began to make some weird singing noise and fire grew in his hand before the bouncer granted him entry. He looked around the street; there were quite a few lingering people outside of the club even though it was still early, smoking cigarettes and laughing. In one group stood several women, scantily dressed in stark comparison to himself as he wore layers of clothes in defence against the relatively cold British weather. He wondered how they weren't cold when one turned her head towards Jakob. She was tall and had long black hair which fell down around her petite shoulders, with one dark strand that fell around her pale face. The first thing he noticed was the woman's dark red lipstick; until she smiled to reveal a tiny pair of fangs protruding from her gums. She winked one eye, and he could have swore her eyes were red from a distance.
Feeling flushed as the women walked away and the bouncer quickly peeled away to allow them inside, Jakob realised that everyone on this street was probably a supernatural. He pushed his body off of the building he was leaning against and stood at the end of the street where the adjacent roads met. He stepped onto the street. A shiver ran up his spine, and his shoulders shook a little. He took another step backwards and forward again. The same thing. The street must have been enchanted - perhaps a strong perception filter spell. Interesting. Jakob thought. He didn't think that sort of magic existed. Then again, he didn't really know what was possible when it came to magic. This is why you're here. Jakob reminded himself. He wanted to be so much more than a bastard wizard who killed his mother, who could only manage parlour tricks.
He took in a deep breath of the cold air and moved towards the bouncer who protected the small, unassuming door which led down towards Underworld.
"Hey." Jakob smiled, trying to sound relaxed. He could feel the eyes of some nearby men smoking bear down on him, most likely judging whether he would be granted entrance. There was something nerve-wrecking about this place. He had been into a couple of bars before, but at least they were full of humans. These people were his equals and superiors, many of which could tear him apart with their bare hands. Creatures that had lived a hundred times his life.
The bouncer began by checking Jakob was old enough and asking if he was sure he wanted to enter.
"Of course." Jakob replied. He expected the bouncer to ask that he perform the same test as the other boy, but he simply waved him through. "Cheers." Jakob nodded, stepping through. He moved carefully down the slippery stairs of a dark-red illuminated cramped staircase, the walls of which were covered in old posters and tacky stuffed animal heads insidiously illuminated by the lights. As he passed by the heads, some came to life and tiredly watched him pass whereas others grunted or neighed. Was everything in here enchanted?
Taking no time to stop and take in his surroundings, Jakob handed in his multiple layers of clothes and some cash to an amused looking young man who stood at a counter near the door. "Cold out I'm guessing?" He smiled, taking the cash as Jakob's clothes floated off onto some hangers.
"Yes. Pretty cold. Your country has foul weather." Jakob replied, hoping his German accent wasn't too obvious. He thanked the man and moved across to the bar, which seemed to be made entirely of thick panels of glass and glowing with red light. Whether it was magic or some lights below the bar, he couldn't tell. He handed over some more cash and got his drink, where he sat at the bar and got a good view of the place. As he looked around the place, he noticed a damp flyer on the bar in front of him. | Name: Jakob Abel
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Race: Magic-user
Biography: Jakob was born to a single-mother in a tiny village in Bavaria, Southern Germany. Unfortunately this tiny village was mostly made up of the members of an infamous Christian cult in Germany which was rumoured to be rife with child abuse and rape. It didn't help that passers by often found shrines draped with the carcasses of animals and other burnt remains, which were also rumoured to be the offerings of the cult to God.
Most of these rumours were true. But this cult wasn't always so extreme; before Jakob was born here a mysterious man arrived in the village claiming that he was sent by God to lead the villagers as God had finally recognised them as his true followers. He introduced himself as Zachiah, and demonstrated his magical abilities which he claimed were God given. As Zachiah led the cult into more extreme acts, he raped several of the women in the cult including Jakob's mother. Non-believers and all those who doubted began to go missing over the years, if they hadn't fled already.
When Jakob was a year old, Zachiah had left the village and moved on. Most likely to another gullible little village who would give him power and money. His mother Ewa was absolute in the fact that Zachiah was a messenger of God and that the rapture was nigh; she would beat Jakob and force him to work the fields and practise scripture until he became the man that Zachiah was. It was only when he was sixteen, when his magical abilities surfaced, that Jakob was finally allowed to see the darker parts of the cult beyond the church walls; the people being dragged out of their homes into the dark fields in the night and being sacrificed. The village was now under the leadership of Mathias, a once close friend of Zachiah's. Jakob became more disenchanted with the cult and their actions, but he didn't understand his magic enough to do much to help anyone. It was around this time that Jakob made his first friend outside of the church, a boy his age named Blake. He was a Canadian boy whose father had come to Germany to pursue a job opportunity, and they didn't seem to take the rumours of the village seriously.
It was over the next year that everything came together for Jakob. He practised his magic at every opportunity he could, and understood the effects it had on him. He learned the spells his father once cast, his 'miracles'. Some things he found he could perform better than others. Levitation came easy, and once he'd summoned fire once it was a breeze. His friendship with Blake grew and more and more Jakob learned that all he was taught growing up was wrong. Eventually, Jakob found himself falling in love with Blake and even told him about his powers. He took him to a remote part of the village close to the mountains and took his hands and levitated both of them high up into the trees where they had their first kiss.
A month later, Blake and his father's house was burned down in the middle of the night as they slept. Jakob was heartbroken, and it wasn't long after that the most influential cult members began to disappear, and by the time the villagers caught on that Jakob was killing them off he returned home to collect his things to flee his village. But his mother was waiting at home, determined to avenge the other members of the cult. She tried to shoot him in the chest with a hunting rifle as he arrived home, but he managed to melt the barrel before she pulled the trigger. He didn't even think about what he was doing, but moments later she was on fire.
Years passed since then, and Jakob travelled around Europe. Magic made life easier but he felt lonesome and decided he wanted to meet other magic-users, so took off towards Blackbury.
Personality: Impulsive, vengeful, reclusive, changeable, obsessive. Overall, he is damaged. At his core he wants only to be happy and have something stable.
Weaponry: N/A
Other Possessions:
Theme Song: I think the song gets across the whole 'damaged' idea.
Miscellaneous: |
8,124 | 218 | 3 | 2,660 | 275 | Frank had been in the underworld for only about ten minutes, and he already detested the place. He wasn't one for clubs, sure there were many other supernaturals around but that didn't change a thing, there was a bevy of folks who were obviously werewolves talking about something or other in a far, dimly lit corner. Frank made a mental note to stay away from that part of the club, not that it mattered much, you could tell who was who in this place, magic-users intermingling with vampires and werewolves, it overwhelmed ones sense of who was what in such a confined area. Frank began to wonder why he came here, then out of the corner of his eye he saw the bar with the wall behind it lined with spirits of all shape, sizes, colors and viscosity if you're into that sort of thing. Some of which were so old and outdated you cold practically taste them by looking at them, but he wasn't here for them, as much as he enjoyed the sight of them he just needed a pint.
Frank strolled over to the bar, pulled a crumpled up note or two and some shrapnel from his back pocket and laid on the table. "A pint of something stout, Keep the change." He said gruffly, and before he knew it the man produced a glass of a strong smelling alcohol, he thanked the bar tender and began to sip his beverage while surveying this club, with a drink in hand he decided it wasn't all that bad, could be worse actually. He didn't have much else planned here but thee something other than the bar caught his eye, a bounty board. How nice, employment and alcohol no wonder people were always here. Frank slowly looked over the board a few rogue people needing to be found, the occasional misplaced occult item, someone was apparently missing their head and was in need of help finding it. Then he spied one that caught his interest and promised good pay, normally he wouldn't bother, but work had been sparse and taking money from dead people is getting less and less profiting these days.
Frank produced a pen from his suit jacket's inner pocket ad signed it in a horrid scribble that somewhat resembled his name, he figured he could actually help in this one, dead people were his forte, he truly worked best with them. Usually because they don't talk back, or have the trivial trappings that make the living so hard to be around like opinions and free will and all that nonsense. Worst case scenario he'd be with a few other people, in-fact he guaranteed to be if anyone else signed this, he tried not to think about, hopefully they'd let him do whatever he needed to do in peace and in preferable, but unlikely silence.
He peered back over to the bar briefly and noticed that a man with a hat was looking over at him after he had singed the note, Frank quickly sized him up out of the corner of his eye, he could feel his presence, his supernatural one anyway. And he could tell that this man was a werewolf, and that he just signed this werewolf's bounty note. Frank sighed slightly.
"Fuck." | Name: Frank Mennen
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Race: Human (Magic user, Necromancy in specific.)
Biography: Frank was born in England, but spent much of his early life in a very secluded, rural Wales. Both his parents were magic users but were very secretive about it, due to their experimentation into some of the darker elements magic. When Frank was 12, the nearest village caught wind of Frank and his family, normally it wouldn't have worried them, except the village wanted them gone and had subsequently hired a pack of werewolves to attack him and his family, having anticipated this, Frank's parents managed to successfully get Frank out of the house, while his parents were murdered. Young Frank returned to house two days later, retrieved what little records his parents kept on magic and a few other things and set out on his own.
For Many years he traveled on his own, his transient life style and practice of strange and "immoral" magics disallowed him to make an permanent relationships with anyone, and due to the attack, he had and still is very wary of werewolves. Frank had more or less mastered the "art" of necromancy which at it's core was blood magic, by using his own blood or someone else blood (which is very seldom) and imbuing with magic he can briefly resurrect just about anyone or anything, this is particularly useful in obtaining information from the deceased, and one more than one occasion using bones of the dead to distract or occasionally kill would-be attackers. Due to the use of his own blood so often, Frank boasts several scars, and nicks across his hands and arms, his drug of choice to fuel his magic is cocaine and he carries a tin of it on him at all times.
Frank managed to end up in Blackbury after chasing a man who had information on his family tree, one person in particular, a great great uncle or something that taught all the other members of his family necromancy, and who is rumored to still be alive, however in the middle of the chase the man was hit by a speeding train and quite literally exploded, Frank managed to re-animate what was left of the head, but all it gave him was a garbled mess of words.
Personality: Frank is a bit anti-social, not by his own means, he just never had a chance to get the proper being around people thing done. Despite this and his strange and sometimes disgusting use of magic he's learned to fit in a crown more or less, he's often blunt to the point of being rude, but he just can't seem to help it. He has a very analytical mind, constantly surveying his surroundings and looking at the finer details of events as they unfold, This is due to constantly searching looking for every little clue that will help him figure out more about his supposed great great uncle or something. He's eager to help there is something in it for him,the reward doesn't even need to be that great, just as long as it's something to look forward to that he couldn't obtain by his own means.
Weaponry: Frank usually has a knife or two on him, mostly he uses them on himself, but there's been a time or two he's needed to use it on something other than his arm or hand.
He carries a small revolver with a full cylinder of silver bullets, mostly to scare away would-be werewolf attackers.
Other Possessions: A few vials and bottles for holding blood and other bodily fluids and sometimes organs.
as well as bag of bones. Literally. He also carries a decent amount of medical supplies, mainly bandages to dress his cuts, but carries a few basic essentials as well.
Theme Song: God's away on business, Tom Waits.
Miscellaneous:
How Frank's Necromancy works; an informative guide on how to be dead:
Frank imbues blood with magic giving life to the deceased, it doesn't matter how long they've been dead, just the quantity of blood.
for the most part re-animated bodies can speak so long as the organs required for speech are still intact, as well as the brain.
Bodies that are animated are for the most part under Franks control via the magic-blood, however a dead body needs not organs or anything to be reanimated, for instance a skeleton can be reanimated, the head will fill with blood and the blood will trace the skeletons bones, and Frank will be able to have control of it until the bones are destroyed or is over fatigued by controlling it. This goes for single body parts as well, Frank can reanimate a hand or other body part and can control it for a period of time, if the body is close enough, the hand will act as though it's receiving from the brain still, allowing it to "hear" things thus allowing it to write the answers to questions. |
8,125 | 218 | 4 | 2,371 | 1,543 | From the dimly lit alleys surrounding Blackbury's most underground location, a lone figure steps from the shadows and approaches the entrance with confident strides. The bouncer steps forward readily, but quickly sinks back in disappointment when he catches sight of their new guest, as there was little confirmation needed to affirm her identity. She was hardly hiding the vapour gently rising from her body as she stepped through the frigid night air, surrounded in a comfortable embrace of warmth that radiated from every inch of her exposed skin.
Even if it weren't for this magical protection, her attire was clearly suggestive of her true identity, a familiarly oversized black hat resting casually on her head of night-black hair so as to hide her eyes from the world. Her body and smile seem youthful, but her proportions and presence suggest otherwise, giving off a distinctively mature and mysterious feeling with every step. This wasn't uncommon at this particular establishment, but it set her apart enough that she wouldn't appear out of place. When she reaches the entrance, the bouncer steps forward again hopefully, carefully considering her appearance and speaking up accordingly.
"Hey wait up little lady, you don't look like no-" The impressively sized guard begins to speak, but is quickly shut down by a dismissive wave from the young witch.
"You know just as well as I that this appearance is an illusion, and that this isn't the first time I've been here. You needn't play with me so much every time I come, I may start thinking you harbour misplaced feelings for me." With this vague introduction, the yet unnamed woman stops hardly a foot away from the weighty bouncer and quietly glances at her surroundings in search of potential onlookers. Satisfied that there were no others standing nearby, she speaks again in a far quieter voice-
"How many magic users tonight? I've had more than enough on my mind these last few evenings, so I've hardly had opportunity to come down myself." The towering man grimaces slightly at the much smaller woman's request, but proceeds to list off a handful of brief descriptions. None in particular stand out to his apparent associate, but she accepts his cooperation gratefully anyways, politely bowing her head in appreciation before shedding her magic coat and continuing on into the depths of the underworld.
She pays much attention to the little details of her supernatural journey into the depths of the club, carefully eyeing every passing mystery as if to unravel its secrets with a glance, walking with all of the haste of a passing tortoise. When she finally breaches the main floor of the club, she lets her eyes pass instead onto its many occupants, rapidly moving between the countless bustling supernaturals and darkly lit corners. Of course, her wandering vision was obscured by the protection of her curious head wear, but she was certain that at least one of the club's occupants noticed her passing gaze.
Deciding it unwise to stand conspicuously in the centre of the doorway, she briskly skirts around the edge of the excitement and settles into one of the more advantageous views in the house. From there, she searches around for those matching the bouncer's descriptions, paying particular attention to not drawing the crowd's eyes. Within moments, she's tracked down all but one of the magic users in the club, and before she has a chance to consider each with equal value, one does something that catches her passing fancy. Resigning herself to curiosity, she approaches the older man from behind and peeks over his shoulder to see what sort of bounty he had taken, nodding imperceptibly at the contents of the sign-up.
Apparently this man was called Frank, and judging by his smell he was probably not wearing any sort of illusion, so she could trust that what he looked like then was his true appearance. Not allowing herself to linger too long without acting, she casually raises her finger to the spot below this stranger's name and signs her own, carefully tracing out an intricate, but solitary, "B" on the note. Finishing her careful handiwork, she angles her head towards the magic-user and gives him a sideways, almost mocking sort of smile.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." | Name:
Beatrice Elseway
Chaos Witch, Beatrice
Age:
37
Gender:
Female
Species:
Human,
Magic User
Personality:
Beatrice is a fickle and unpredictable woman who truly earns the unique title of Chaos Witch, having trumped countless daunting foes with little more than her genius and a little bit of magic. She's a prodigal magic user who has long since cast off her pride, devoting her entire existence to the pursuit of magic and its mysteries. She favours ordinary humans more than most supernaturals do, often gracing their lives with awesome gifts of magic, often at a terrible price further down the line. She is known for her cruel, and yet strangely compassionate nature, she exists constantly in a state of fluctuating humanity and sanity.
History:
Rumours say that the legendary Witch, Beatrice, has been spotted in Blackbury recently. She hasn't done anything worth noting while here, and has actually been deep in hiding for the last few months, silently watching as the supernaturals went about their daily business, completely obscured from the eyes of both the human world and the world of the night. She has gained a hefty reputation since her arrival in the UK, even being rumoured to be the most powerful magic user currently alive, but little is known about her past the identity she's been given by the public.
She was born and raised in a small village nestled deep in the mountains, completely isolated from the outside world. Ever since she was born, she's had the gift of magic, her parents didn't have it, and the power had never been seen in the village before her. Naturally, she would have been outcast if the others int he village found out, so her parents carefully hid her and sternly ordered her to never explore her gifts. Her naturally curious mind wouldn't allow it, and she was found out by the other villagers in no time. Normally, this would be the point where the budding witch would be burned at the stake, stoned to death or simply thrown into the wild to die, but Beatrice was different from most witches.
By the time she had finished experimenting with the last of the village's inhabitants, she was already in her late teens, and she still hadn't even seen a single glimpse of the outside world. Determining that there was no more to be learned in the small village of her birth, she bid farewell to the empty houses that had been her prison, and went off in search of a new world. Her trek was perilous, but she would soon discover that the world was a much larger and more wondrous place than she had imagined. She soon found herself in a city, one with so many technological wonders that she could hardly contain her excitement. An unlimited amount of learning was lying before her, and all she needed to do was grasp it. She later estimated that the village she had grown up in was approximately a hundred years behind the rest of the world in terms of knowledge, and she soon found all sorts of wonderful things to challenge her brilliant mind with. But of course, in the end, she would always come back to the one true art, the place where it all began. Magic, she learned, was even more amazing than she had thought, and she had still not even scratched the surface.
In the days after that, her experiments with magic went further than any other witch of her age, and she soon became what you could call an expert in the field. The extensive journeys into magic had changed Beatrice from the curious, innocent girl she had been before, she was noticing a change in her personality and emotions that she could not have possibly predicted. In time, this girl grew to become the person who is known today as the Chaos Witch, bringing forth a tremendous firestorm that engulfed an entire city in its insatiable flame. She moved on, following the trail of something that wasn't human, and eventually finding a village filled with a whole new, completely unexpected kind of knowledge. She wasn't alone. |
8,126 | 218 | 5 | 43 | 91 | Jakob picked the damp flyer from the wet glass, flicking off the wetness as he took a couple of gulps of his own drink. Apparently someone was in need of bounty hunters and the pay was good. He swung around in his seat, taking another copious gulp of his drink until his eyes fell upon the pair stood by the bounty board. There was a young woman and an older man who were both penning their names down. Why not? I do need the cash. I might even make a couple of friends. Jakob thought, hoping it wasn't the alcohol talking already. He placed down his drink and borrowing a pen from the bartender, made his way across to the notice board cheerily.
"Can I squeeze in?" Jakob asked, sliding between the woman and man as she introduced herself to him. The woman seemed dressed a bit too grandoise, and looked quite comical with half of her face covered by a big, black witchy hat. Maybe she was just pleased to be a Witch. That could explain why the uncovered part of her face looked so smug. The older man just seemed tired, much like he didn't even want to be here but might have just wanted to drown his sorrows.
Jakob scrawled down his signature and looked back over the other two. "You both must be crazier than me. It's taken me half a double vodka to sign up to chasing down some murderer, but you haven't even been to the bar yet. I'm very impressed." Jakob chuckled, extending his hand so his drink would return to him from the bar. | Name: Jakob Abel
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Race: Magic-user
Biography: Jakob was born to a single-mother in a tiny village in Bavaria, Southern Germany. Unfortunately this tiny village was mostly made up of the members of an infamous Christian cult in Germany which was rumoured to be rife with child abuse and rape. It didn't help that passers by often found shrines draped with the carcasses of animals and other burnt remains, which were also rumoured to be the offerings of the cult to God.
Most of these rumours were true. But this cult wasn't always so extreme; before Jakob was born here a mysterious man arrived in the village claiming that he was sent by God to lead the villagers as God had finally recognised them as his true followers. He introduced himself as Zachiah, and demonstrated his magical abilities which he claimed were God given. As Zachiah led the cult into more extreme acts, he raped several of the women in the cult including Jakob's mother. Non-believers and all those who doubted began to go missing over the years, if they hadn't fled already.
When Jakob was a year old, Zachiah had left the village and moved on. Most likely to another gullible little village who would give him power and money. His mother Ewa was absolute in the fact that Zachiah was a messenger of God and that the rapture was nigh; she would beat Jakob and force him to work the fields and practise scripture until he became the man that Zachiah was. It was only when he was sixteen, when his magical abilities surfaced, that Jakob was finally allowed to see the darker parts of the cult beyond the church walls; the people being dragged out of their homes into the dark fields in the night and being sacrificed. The village was now under the leadership of Mathias, a once close friend of Zachiah's. Jakob became more disenchanted with the cult and their actions, but he didn't understand his magic enough to do much to help anyone. It was around this time that Jakob made his first friend outside of the church, a boy his age named Blake. He was a Canadian boy whose father had come to Germany to pursue a job opportunity, and they didn't seem to take the rumours of the village seriously.
It was over the next year that everything came together for Jakob. He practised his magic at every opportunity he could, and understood the effects it had on him. He learned the spells his father once cast, his 'miracles'. Some things he found he could perform better than others. Levitation came easy, and once he'd summoned fire once it was a breeze. His friendship with Blake grew and more and more Jakob learned that all he was taught growing up was wrong. Eventually, Jakob found himself falling in love with Blake and even told him about his powers. He took him to a remote part of the village close to the mountains and took his hands and levitated both of them high up into the trees where they had their first kiss.
A month later, Blake and his father's house was burned down in the middle of the night as they slept. Jakob was heartbroken, and it wasn't long after that the most influential cult members began to disappear, and by the time the villagers caught on that Jakob was killing them off he returned home to collect his things to flee his village. But his mother was waiting at home, determined to avenge the other members of the cult. She tried to shoot him in the chest with a hunting rifle as he arrived home, but he managed to melt the barrel before she pulled the trigger. He didn't even think about what he was doing, but moments later she was on fire.
Years passed since then, and Jakob travelled around Europe. Magic made life easier but he felt lonesome and decided he wanted to meet other magic-users, so took off towards Blackbury.
Personality: Impulsive, vengeful, reclusive, changeable, obsessive. Overall, he is damaged. At his core he wants only to be happy and have something stable.
Weaponry: N/A
Other Possessions:
Theme Song: I think the song gets across the whole 'damaged' idea.
Miscellaneous: |
8,127 | 218 | 6 | 1,620 | 74 | Henry hadn't been sitting for long before he started to look around.Taking a few gulps of his drink he started to notice how the room easily could be split. He found that every single creature had their own special vibe, aura or what ever you wanted to all it. As he looked at people he felt it. The werewolfs had this feeling of being wild-beasts just hiding under the surface. The vampires the void of warmth and to him the felt dead, but still strangely attracting. Magic users on the other felt like they had a some form of electricity surrounding them.
His eyes flickered across the room and he noticed some lady with a way to big hat and he couldn't help laughing "Well im guessing she is a witch and a bit tacky one at that" He felt a bit bad for saying it, but sometimes he just couldn't control himself. He saw her standing close to some kind of board and next to here two guys, one a bit older and one quite a bit younger. Henry wanted to walk over, but was a bit afraid to. He didn't know any of these people, but wasn't that why he came here ? to find out about what this place was ? meet his own ?
After a few moments of catching up courage he lifted himself of his seat and walked over to the board. He didn't say anything, he just looked at it. Not much got his attention, but when he saw some of the huge numbers that was offered for some of these people he got a bit stunned.That much for one guy ? jesus thats a lot He grabbed the pen and stood there for a moment before he also signed it. | Name:
Henry Trafalgar
Gender:
Male
Age:
18
Race:
Human (wizard)
Biography:
As the child of two wizards Henry was bound to have magical powers, that however did not stop his parents from hiding it. They did everything without magic and didn’t as much as blow the leaves away by messing with the wind. No they lived just as normal people or they did until Henry started to make things happen. They were happy and Henry lived without any knowledge of what he was capable off. That was the moment they knew that if they didn’t teach their kid how to control himself this would get out of hand.
Because you see at the age of 12 Henry started to watch anime, dragon ball z to be right on point and as all children he started to pretend fight with his friends. His mom meant it was adorable and didn’t break it up before she saw a strange small glowing orb in her child’s hands. She ran out and picked up Henry before he got done with his Kamehameha, to Henry’s great disappointment. When she asked Henry how he had learned to do that he just answered “that guy in the anime did it and I practiced really hard and now I can do it” That was the point in time where is parents slowly but surely told him that firing bolts of energy at your friends is not something you should be doing.
Now he is has learned all of his parent’s tricks and magical abilities he is more careful, he thinks much more about his actions. He uses magic to blow the leaves however…. Nobody wants to do that by hand. He has continued to live a sheltered life and has not used his abilities in front of anyone, but that’s all about to change.
Personality:’
He is extremely well mannered and polite. He is not the kind that will step on your toes or say a bad word about you, but that does not mean he likes you. He finds it extremely easy to smile when his whole body is just trembling with the urge to lash out and turn whatever is in front of him to ashes. His hunger for power and knowledge is extreme and he often forgets the time and ends up reading the whole night.
But his life has also made him rather lonely, he is afraid that if he shows someone what he can do they will just call him a freak and run. He hates keeping it all in and now its time to let it all go (best song tie in ever !)
Preferred Weaponry:
Not any weapons to note
Notable Possessions:
The key around his neck
He always has the key with him and holds onto it for dear life. Some even dear to say that the key is what will unlock his past.
Theme Song:
Miscellaneous:
Don’t fuck with his hair… if you know whats best for you. |
8,128 | 218 | 7 | 676 | 780 | Well, that was rather quick, seems the price tag caught some eyes. Michael idly scrubbed the bar in front of his companion, there wasn't anything there, it just was part of the 'serious bartender' vibe he tried to keep. People rarely went to the bar, and despite owning the entire establishment, the millenia old vampire had been serving drinks in one form or another since at least 1500's, BC of course. Cyrus had quite the taste for rum though, so they had gotten to know each other quite well. "There is a nexus of magical energy over there, I hope you aren't intimidated."
If Cyrus had been in wolf form his ears would have twitched back from irritation, "hardly" he growled. If anything, the magic users could be a liability, If they were caught by surprise, then they would have little to no defensive measures at all. Of course they might be able to do some magic tricks to help with the investigation. It looked like he would be the only Werewolf of the group, which was fine by him. Most other Werewolves are hotheads with no self control. He dropped some coins on the bar and got up to go introduce himself.
"Alright ladies and gentlemen, as you can see we've got quite the case on our hands, so much we had to offer several spots. This bill doesn't have the full story on it, but that's because we don't have the full story. I'm Cyrus, I do a lot of work for the person who posted the bill." He hastily scrawled his name on it as well, "All we have to go on is a group is suspected of murdering several important individuals, including Supernaturals. Any questions?" | Name: Cyrus “Cy” Samuels
Appearance:
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Race: Werewolf
Biography: Cyrus was born to one of the last traditional werewolf packs in the world, a clan spread through most of Australia. The pack operated somewhat like a mafia, wiping out individuals who threatened their interests and living a life of general luxury, in spite of their lack of morals. Cyrus was raised to hate humanity, consider them as merely prey and incapable of any “wolf-like” virtues such as honor or cunning. As he grew up in the pack, he was taught to fight from a very young age. He was born during a time when there had been a large amount of new pups and so to keep the population down they were to fight in a ring for the amusement of the pack. Being one of the few to make it out of the deathmatches when he was only five years old, he was considered to be a promising young wolf who would do excellent work for the pack.
For the next six years he was taught many things, how to use human made weapons like guns and knives, as well as his natural tools to intimidate, assault, and kill humans as well as some other Supernaturals such as vampires. Despite the wide ranging power of the pack, they had many enemies, and several exiled members as well as Supernatural vigilantes conspired with the police force to wipe them out once and for all. A special forces raid was ultimately decided to break it up, though it was kept very under the table with the Australian government and for the most part the vigilantes did the fighting. Thirty-one Werewolves were killed that day, though the public only knew it as a raid on a crime ring.
Within the chaos, a young Cyrus, using his werewolf cunning, devised a way to survive. Keeping himself in his human form, he took a knife and pinned himself to a wall by the hands, when the vigilantes came in, he claimed to be a human child that the pack had taken captive. Despite knowing something suspicious was up, he was let go and put for adoption. He was a good actor, and lived out the rest of his childhood and teenage years in relative peace. Other than those few full moon nights where he always seemed to go missing.
At 18 he got a letter delivered specifically to him, it was one of the bounty hunters who had been responsible for wrecking his family. Inside it merely said “I know what you are kid, but you've behaved well, I can't believe you are as bad as those who raised you. So go to Blackbury, it's a city in England that's very friendly to our kind, you can find work that suits your... 'talents.' Should you wish.”
Cyrus said goodbye to his foster parents and left for England with what meager money they could scrape up. Immediately upon arrival, he received a very warm welcome, he was invited to come to a certain club, and was offered a job that he would “enjoy.”
Underworld seemed nice enough, the owner was remarkably personable for a Vampire, and even offered to let Cyrus stay in one of the back rooms of the bar while he got on his feet in the new city. Bounty hunting was an exhilarating job that Cyrus came to love. And after 6 years he has become one of the most established hunters of the dark in all of Blackbury.
Personality: Cyrus is, contrary to his upbringing, kind and with a sense of justice. His early experiences forever put him against his own species, he for a long time considered most werewolves to be vicious monsters like his family was, and has only recently come to rectify this attitude. He tries to treat all races with respect and dignity, as well as remaining humble about himself.
Weaponry: Cyrus was trained with all manner of lethal tools but was particularly trained with concealable ones. As a result, he carries knives and handguns. He has a large personal collection of both and all sorts of modifications, as well as connections with black market arms dealers. (Supernaturals skirt the law and can get away with a lot, even gun control laws in England)
Possessions: His own weapon collection, magically enchanted clothes that will remain whole when he shapeshifts, a sizable amount of saved money.
Theme Song: I'm My Own Master Now
Miscellaneous: |
8,129 | 218 | 8 | 2,660 | 275 | Frank saw an elegant "B" form underneath his own name on the bounty paper I looked like ancient calligraphy compared to his signature. He looked over quickly just in time to see a sideways smile on a woman's face. He instantly knew two things about her, first of all she was using an illusion a good one too, normally he can smell them a mile away. Second of all he smile and greeting were completely insencere. With these two things put forward he realised who she was, he had never met her but he was well aware of magic users of a certain fame or in the case infamy.
Frank grunted a reply at Beatrice something that sounded like you too.
Before he could do anything else two more seemingly one after the other showed up to sign the bounty note he signed. He contemplated leaving right then but running into the chaos witch was something he didn't intend on passing up, you don't get a nickname like that with out reason, she could possibly help him, the other two he could care less about, Frank wondered if they could even see that she was using an illusion. Regardless of their skill he'd question then about everything he could.
The werewolf who was sitting at the bar had joined the party, Frank shifted uneasily as he got closer, he didn't reply when asked, he simply finished his beer. | Name: Frank Mennen
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Race: Human (Magic user, Necromancy in specific.)
Biography: Frank was born in England, but spent much of his early life in a very secluded, rural Wales. Both his parents were magic users but were very secretive about it, due to their experimentation into some of the darker elements magic. When Frank was 12, the nearest village caught wind of Frank and his family, normally it wouldn't have worried them, except the village wanted them gone and had subsequently hired a pack of werewolves to attack him and his family, having anticipated this, Frank's parents managed to successfully get Frank out of the house, while his parents were murdered. Young Frank returned to house two days later, retrieved what little records his parents kept on magic and a few other things and set out on his own.
For Many years he traveled on his own, his transient life style and practice of strange and "immoral" magics disallowed him to make an permanent relationships with anyone, and due to the attack, he had and still is very wary of werewolves. Frank had more or less mastered the "art" of necromancy which at it's core was blood magic, by using his own blood or someone else blood (which is very seldom) and imbuing with magic he can briefly resurrect just about anyone or anything, this is particularly useful in obtaining information from the deceased, and one more than one occasion using bones of the dead to distract or occasionally kill would-be attackers. Due to the use of his own blood so often, Frank boasts several scars, and nicks across his hands and arms, his drug of choice to fuel his magic is cocaine and he carries a tin of it on him at all times.
Frank managed to end up in Blackbury after chasing a man who had information on his family tree, one person in particular, a great great uncle or something that taught all the other members of his family necromancy, and who is rumored to still be alive, however in the middle of the chase the man was hit by a speeding train and quite literally exploded, Frank managed to re-animate what was left of the head, but all it gave him was a garbled mess of words.
Personality: Frank is a bit anti-social, not by his own means, he just never had a chance to get the proper being around people thing done. Despite this and his strange and sometimes disgusting use of magic he's learned to fit in a crown more or less, he's often blunt to the point of being rude, but he just can't seem to help it. He has a very analytical mind, constantly surveying his surroundings and looking at the finer details of events as they unfold, This is due to constantly searching looking for every little clue that will help him figure out more about his supposed great great uncle or something. He's eager to help there is something in it for him,the reward doesn't even need to be that great, just as long as it's something to look forward to that he couldn't obtain by his own means.
Weaponry: Frank usually has a knife or two on him, mostly he uses them on himself, but there's been a time or two he's needed to use it on something other than his arm or hand.
He carries a small revolver with a full cylinder of silver bullets, mostly to scare away would-be werewolf attackers.
Other Possessions: A few vials and bottles for holding blood and other bodily fluids and sometimes organs.
as well as bag of bones. Literally. He also carries a decent amount of medical supplies, mainly bandages to dress his cuts, but carries a few basic essentials as well.
Theme Song: God's away on business, Tom Waits.
Miscellaneous:
How Frank's Necromancy works; an informative guide on how to be dead:
Frank imbues blood with magic giving life to the deceased, it doesn't matter how long they've been dead, just the quantity of blood.
for the most part re-animated bodies can speak so long as the organs required for speech are still intact, as well as the brain.
Bodies that are animated are for the most part under Franks control via the magic-blood, however a dead body needs not organs or anything to be reanimated, for instance a skeleton can be reanimated, the head will fill with blood and the blood will trace the skeletons bones, and Frank will be able to have control of it until the bones are destroyed or is over fatigued by controlling it. This goes for single body parts as well, Frank can reanimate a hand or other body part and can control it for a period of time, if the body is close enough, the hand will act as though it's receiving from the brain still, allowing it to "hear" things thus allowing it to write the answers to questions. |
8,130 | 218 | 9 | 43 | 91 | Alright ladies and gentlemen, as you can see we've got quite the case on our hands, so much we had to offer several spots. This bill doesn't have the full story on it, but that's because we don't have the full story. I'm Cyrus, I do a lot of work for the person who posted the bill. He hastily scrawled his name on it as well, "All we have to go on is a group is suspected of murdering several important individuals, including Supernaturals. Any questions?"
Jakob resisted cocking an eyebrow at the man who had stepped forward. "A few. Which important individuals? Where were they murdered? When?" Jakob said disparagingly, glancing at the Vampires and Werewolves which lingered around the club which was slowly but surely filling. No doubt many could hear their every word. "And - should we be discussing this here? Now?" Jakob asked. It was hardly a big leap of faith that this conversation could make it back to the organised group which was assassinating important individuals, given this was practically the only decent Supernatural spot in town from what he'd heard. | Name: Jakob Abel
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Race: Magic-user
Biography: Jakob was born to a single-mother in a tiny village in Bavaria, Southern Germany. Unfortunately this tiny village was mostly made up of the members of an infamous Christian cult in Germany which was rumoured to be rife with child abuse and rape. It didn't help that passers by often found shrines draped with the carcasses of animals and other burnt remains, which were also rumoured to be the offerings of the cult to God.
Most of these rumours were true. But this cult wasn't always so extreme; before Jakob was born here a mysterious man arrived in the village claiming that he was sent by God to lead the villagers as God had finally recognised them as his true followers. He introduced himself as Zachiah, and demonstrated his magical abilities which he claimed were God given. As Zachiah led the cult into more extreme acts, he raped several of the women in the cult including Jakob's mother. Non-believers and all those who doubted began to go missing over the years, if they hadn't fled already.
When Jakob was a year old, Zachiah had left the village and moved on. Most likely to another gullible little village who would give him power and money. His mother Ewa was absolute in the fact that Zachiah was a messenger of God and that the rapture was nigh; she would beat Jakob and force him to work the fields and practise scripture until he became the man that Zachiah was. It was only when he was sixteen, when his magical abilities surfaced, that Jakob was finally allowed to see the darker parts of the cult beyond the church walls; the people being dragged out of their homes into the dark fields in the night and being sacrificed. The village was now under the leadership of Mathias, a once close friend of Zachiah's. Jakob became more disenchanted with the cult and their actions, but he didn't understand his magic enough to do much to help anyone. It was around this time that Jakob made his first friend outside of the church, a boy his age named Blake. He was a Canadian boy whose father had come to Germany to pursue a job opportunity, and they didn't seem to take the rumours of the village seriously.
It was over the next year that everything came together for Jakob. He practised his magic at every opportunity he could, and understood the effects it had on him. He learned the spells his father once cast, his 'miracles'. Some things he found he could perform better than others. Levitation came easy, and once he'd summoned fire once it was a breeze. His friendship with Blake grew and more and more Jakob learned that all he was taught growing up was wrong. Eventually, Jakob found himself falling in love with Blake and even told him about his powers. He took him to a remote part of the village close to the mountains and took his hands and levitated both of them high up into the trees where they had their first kiss.
A month later, Blake and his father's house was burned down in the middle of the night as they slept. Jakob was heartbroken, and it wasn't long after that the most influential cult members began to disappear, and by the time the villagers caught on that Jakob was killing them off he returned home to collect his things to flee his village. But his mother was waiting at home, determined to avenge the other members of the cult. She tried to shoot him in the chest with a hunting rifle as he arrived home, but he managed to melt the barrel before she pulled the trigger. He didn't even think about what he was doing, but moments later she was on fire.
Years passed since then, and Jakob travelled around Europe. Magic made life easier but he felt lonesome and decided he wanted to meet other magic-users, so took off towards Blackbury.
Personality: Impulsive, vengeful, reclusive, changeable, obsessive. Overall, he is damaged. At his core he wants only to be happy and have something stable.
Weaponry: N/A
Other Possessions:
Theme Song: I think the song gets across the whole 'damaged' idea.
Miscellaneous: |
8,131 | 218 | 10 | 676 | 780 | I am not at liberty to discuss whom, all I can say is they are very important people supporting a specific project. We have reason to believe this group is trying to halt said project. The corpses were found in alleys, in one case drained of blood and in the other shredded with very few identifiers. I have been informed that both alleyways were very far from where the victims would normally be. Cyrus was making sure to conceal as much irrelevant information as he could. He himself knew full well who died and he had a suspicion as to why.
"You all are adept at magic, I can clearly see." He had no real way to judge magical ability, but the older man and the woman held themselves with an air of confidence and smug superiority he interpreted as security in their abilities. The other two he wasn't so sure, but he decided flattery would be the best policy. "Now, as far as what we need to do, the first step would be to investigate. The human deaths we shouldn't concern ourselves with, there will likely be no useful information there. I have some preparations to make of my own. We should all meet somewhere, anybody have ideas?" He was new to this group thing, trying to include his new allies, or at least presumed allies, without sounding like he was taking charge too much.
Meanwhile, a lone individual watched the five bounty hunters from a far off table. | Name: Cyrus “Cy” Samuels
Appearance:
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Race: Werewolf
Biography: Cyrus was born to one of the last traditional werewolf packs in the world, a clan spread through most of Australia. The pack operated somewhat like a mafia, wiping out individuals who threatened their interests and living a life of general luxury, in spite of their lack of morals. Cyrus was raised to hate humanity, consider them as merely prey and incapable of any “wolf-like” virtues such as honor or cunning. As he grew up in the pack, he was taught to fight from a very young age. He was born during a time when there had been a large amount of new pups and so to keep the population down they were to fight in a ring for the amusement of the pack. Being one of the few to make it out of the deathmatches when he was only five years old, he was considered to be a promising young wolf who would do excellent work for the pack.
For the next six years he was taught many things, how to use human made weapons like guns and knives, as well as his natural tools to intimidate, assault, and kill humans as well as some other Supernaturals such as vampires. Despite the wide ranging power of the pack, they had many enemies, and several exiled members as well as Supernatural vigilantes conspired with the police force to wipe them out once and for all. A special forces raid was ultimately decided to break it up, though it was kept very under the table with the Australian government and for the most part the vigilantes did the fighting. Thirty-one Werewolves were killed that day, though the public only knew it as a raid on a crime ring.
Within the chaos, a young Cyrus, using his werewolf cunning, devised a way to survive. Keeping himself in his human form, he took a knife and pinned himself to a wall by the hands, when the vigilantes came in, he claimed to be a human child that the pack had taken captive. Despite knowing something suspicious was up, he was let go and put for adoption. He was a good actor, and lived out the rest of his childhood and teenage years in relative peace. Other than those few full moon nights where he always seemed to go missing.
At 18 he got a letter delivered specifically to him, it was one of the bounty hunters who had been responsible for wrecking his family. Inside it merely said “I know what you are kid, but you've behaved well, I can't believe you are as bad as those who raised you. So go to Blackbury, it's a city in England that's very friendly to our kind, you can find work that suits your... 'talents.' Should you wish.”
Cyrus said goodbye to his foster parents and left for England with what meager money they could scrape up. Immediately upon arrival, he received a very warm welcome, he was invited to come to a certain club, and was offered a job that he would “enjoy.”
Underworld seemed nice enough, the owner was remarkably personable for a Vampire, and even offered to let Cyrus stay in one of the back rooms of the bar while he got on his feet in the new city. Bounty hunting was an exhilarating job that Cyrus came to love. And after 6 years he has become one of the most established hunters of the dark in all of Blackbury.
Personality: Cyrus is, contrary to his upbringing, kind and with a sense of justice. His early experiences forever put him against his own species, he for a long time considered most werewolves to be vicious monsters like his family was, and has only recently come to rectify this attitude. He tries to treat all races with respect and dignity, as well as remaining humble about himself.
Weaponry: Cyrus was trained with all manner of lethal tools but was particularly trained with concealable ones. As a result, he carries knives and handguns. He has a large personal collection of both and all sorts of modifications, as well as connections with black market arms dealers. (Supernaturals skirt the law and can get away with a lot, even gun control laws in England)
Possessions: His own weapon collection, magically enchanted clothes that will remain whole when he shapeshifts, a sizable amount of saved money.
Theme Song: I'm My Own Master Now
Miscellaneous: |
8,132 | 218 | 11 | 2,371 | 1,543 | Indeed, Beatrice could do little but laugh quietly when she noted an air of recognition coming from her older companion, but she did her best to contain her mirth in front of the guests. It seemed to her as if she was attracting all of the younger magic users in the club, as in moments both a well-shaven young man and boy hardly in the cusp of adulthood have shown up. The man named Jakob spoke amiably and seemed to still possess most of his youthful confidence, brushing past her unflinchingly on his way to the table, but he didn't interest her as much as the others.
Their second new follower was one who seemed yet to escape boyhood, at least in personality. This "Henry" contrasted heavily with the club's rather adult crowd, and for this exact reason he drew the curious witch's gaze more than the others. Suddenly, things seemed to begin moving a bit quickly, and Beatrice found herself quite uninterested in the passing affairs. A dog calling himself Cyrus, apparently content to lead their little gathering, comes over and explains the details of their coming job, asking them all for their input along the way.
Deciding that Frank's decision to remain silent was wise, she takes a step back and patiently listens to what the unsightly beast has to say. In moments, after he's finished answering Jakob's query, she steps forward again and lets her mind run free, struck by a sudden urge to contribute an ounce of her thoughts (possibly provoked by the unexpected flattery)-
"If you would allow me to speak, my dear Cyrus, I wouldn't dislike the opportunity to share my thoughts on the matter. It seems you have much knowledge of this incident, more so than you let on, but as little as you may wish to tell us, it would be wise for us to become acquainted with one another before we set out on our mission. I know little of how your kind operates, but I am of the understanding that magic tends to burn the unprepared caster. With three magic users apparently working in tandem, it would be an unwise move for us to proceed without addressing our teamwork and leadership. Even if there are those in our group who dislike working together, I believe it necessary if we are to avoid accidentally setting eachother on fire."
By the time the young-looking witch finishes speaking, it is already very evident that she speaks with the tongue of someone far beyond her apparent age. She smiles cheerily now, and although her eyes remain casually reading her fellow bounty hunters, her body language seems to convey a sense of enthusiasm and personality. To add to this effect, she allows a little spark of magic to flicker from one of her fingers and quickly extinguish itself harmlessly. It was all a show, she knew that at least one in the group was experienced enough to notice it, but she at least put some effort into maintaining her image of a youthful witch. For now. | Name:
Beatrice Elseway
Chaos Witch, Beatrice
Age:
37
Gender:
Female
Species:
Human,
Magic User
Personality:
Beatrice is a fickle and unpredictable woman who truly earns the unique title of Chaos Witch, having trumped countless daunting foes with little more than her genius and a little bit of magic. She's a prodigal magic user who has long since cast off her pride, devoting her entire existence to the pursuit of magic and its mysteries. She favours ordinary humans more than most supernaturals do, often gracing their lives with awesome gifts of magic, often at a terrible price further down the line. She is known for her cruel, and yet strangely compassionate nature, she exists constantly in a state of fluctuating humanity and sanity.
History:
Rumours say that the legendary Witch, Beatrice, has been spotted in Blackbury recently. She hasn't done anything worth noting while here, and has actually been deep in hiding for the last few months, silently watching as the supernaturals went about their daily business, completely obscured from the eyes of both the human world and the world of the night. She has gained a hefty reputation since her arrival in the UK, even being rumoured to be the most powerful magic user currently alive, but little is known about her past the identity she's been given by the public.
She was born and raised in a small village nestled deep in the mountains, completely isolated from the outside world. Ever since she was born, she's had the gift of magic, her parents didn't have it, and the power had never been seen in the village before her. Naturally, she would have been outcast if the others int he village found out, so her parents carefully hid her and sternly ordered her to never explore her gifts. Her naturally curious mind wouldn't allow it, and she was found out by the other villagers in no time. Normally, this would be the point where the budding witch would be burned at the stake, stoned to death or simply thrown into the wild to die, but Beatrice was different from most witches.
By the time she had finished experimenting with the last of the village's inhabitants, she was already in her late teens, and she still hadn't even seen a single glimpse of the outside world. Determining that there was no more to be learned in the small village of her birth, she bid farewell to the empty houses that had been her prison, and went off in search of a new world. Her trek was perilous, but she would soon discover that the world was a much larger and more wondrous place than she had imagined. She soon found herself in a city, one with so many technological wonders that she could hardly contain her excitement. An unlimited amount of learning was lying before her, and all she needed to do was grasp it. She later estimated that the village she had grown up in was approximately a hundred years behind the rest of the world in terms of knowledge, and she soon found all sorts of wonderful things to challenge her brilliant mind with. But of course, in the end, she would always come back to the one true art, the place where it all began. Magic, she learned, was even more amazing than she had thought, and she had still not even scratched the surface.
In the days after that, her experiments with magic went further than any other witch of her age, and she soon became what you could call an expert in the field. The extensive journeys into magic had changed Beatrice from the curious, innocent girl she had been before, she was noticing a change in her personality and emotions that she could not have possibly predicted. In time, this girl grew to become the person who is known today as the Chaos Witch, bringing forth a tremendous firestorm that engulfed an entire city in its insatiable flame. She moved on, following the trail of something that wasn't human, and eventually finding a village filled with a whole new, completely unexpected kind of knowledge. She wasn't alone. |
8,133 | 218 | 12 | 2,660 | 275 | Frank stood and listened in silence, the questions being brought up were all valid and important, and in all honestly, he hadn't even begun to think about them. He still had this idea he was going at this alone, but considering he was standing in with the worlds most unassuming soon-to-be crime solvers he was clearly mistaken. Then Beatrice brought up perhaps the best point of all, and one that Frank found himself, surprisingly, agreeing with in his head, the fact that they needed to get to know one another, as much as Frank detested working with other living people, however he didn't want to be going into this basically blindfolded, what the kids were actually vampires or werewolves in the guise of magic users? Franks paranoia grew rapidly, what if Beatrice is actua- Frank noticed her flaunt a little magic into the air and his mind came to a dead-stop, she wasn't a werewolf, and neither were the other two, or so he hoped.
"I find myself agreeing with her." Frank said, finally deciding to speak. "I'm... familiar with the witch in a purely educational manner, and I suggest these-" Frank paused and shook his finger between Jakob and Henry several times very rapidly "-Two get to know her better, for their own saf- uhh sake." Frank went to drink from his glass, but stopped upon remembering he had drank it all already. Frank coughed quietly and began to speak again. "As for meeting up anywhere, here seems the only reliable place, save for the lack of privacy." Frank stopped, and started again derailing the subject, quickly. "But let's play the get to know each other game first, I'm Frank, I work with dead people and I don't like werewolves." He stopped his condescending outburst and turned to Cyrus and looked him in the eye. "Unless they're paying me." | Name: Frank Mennen
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Race: Human (Magic user, Necromancy in specific.)
Biography: Frank was born in England, but spent much of his early life in a very secluded, rural Wales. Both his parents were magic users but were very secretive about it, due to their experimentation into some of the darker elements magic. When Frank was 12, the nearest village caught wind of Frank and his family, normally it wouldn't have worried them, except the village wanted them gone and had subsequently hired a pack of werewolves to attack him and his family, having anticipated this, Frank's parents managed to successfully get Frank out of the house, while his parents were murdered. Young Frank returned to house two days later, retrieved what little records his parents kept on magic and a few other things and set out on his own.
For Many years he traveled on his own, his transient life style and practice of strange and "immoral" magics disallowed him to make an permanent relationships with anyone, and due to the attack, he had and still is very wary of werewolves. Frank had more or less mastered the "art" of necromancy which at it's core was blood magic, by using his own blood or someone else blood (which is very seldom) and imbuing with magic he can briefly resurrect just about anyone or anything, this is particularly useful in obtaining information from the deceased, and one more than one occasion using bones of the dead to distract or occasionally kill would-be attackers. Due to the use of his own blood so often, Frank boasts several scars, and nicks across his hands and arms, his drug of choice to fuel his magic is cocaine and he carries a tin of it on him at all times.
Frank managed to end up in Blackbury after chasing a man who had information on his family tree, one person in particular, a great great uncle or something that taught all the other members of his family necromancy, and who is rumored to still be alive, however in the middle of the chase the man was hit by a speeding train and quite literally exploded, Frank managed to re-animate what was left of the head, but all it gave him was a garbled mess of words.
Personality: Frank is a bit anti-social, not by his own means, he just never had a chance to get the proper being around people thing done. Despite this and his strange and sometimes disgusting use of magic he's learned to fit in a crown more or less, he's often blunt to the point of being rude, but he just can't seem to help it. He has a very analytical mind, constantly surveying his surroundings and looking at the finer details of events as they unfold, This is due to constantly searching looking for every little clue that will help him figure out more about his supposed great great uncle or something. He's eager to help there is something in it for him,the reward doesn't even need to be that great, just as long as it's something to look forward to that he couldn't obtain by his own means.
Weaponry: Frank usually has a knife or two on him, mostly he uses them on himself, but there's been a time or two he's needed to use it on something other than his arm or hand.
He carries a small revolver with a full cylinder of silver bullets, mostly to scare away would-be werewolf attackers.
Other Possessions: A few vials and bottles for holding blood and other bodily fluids and sometimes organs.
as well as bag of bones. Literally. He also carries a decent amount of medical supplies, mainly bandages to dress his cuts, but carries a few basic essentials as well.
Theme Song: God's away on business, Tom Waits.
Miscellaneous:
How Frank's Necromancy works; an informative guide on how to be dead:
Frank imbues blood with magic giving life to the deceased, it doesn't matter how long they've been dead, just the quantity of blood.
for the most part re-animated bodies can speak so long as the organs required for speech are still intact, as well as the brain.
Bodies that are animated are for the most part under Franks control via the magic-blood, however a dead body needs not organs or anything to be reanimated, for instance a skeleton can be reanimated, the head will fill with blood and the blood will trace the skeletons bones, and Frank will be able to have control of it until the bones are destroyed or is over fatigued by controlling it. This goes for single body parts as well, Frank can reanimate a hand or other body part and can control it for a period of time, if the body is close enough, the hand will act as though it's receiving from the brain still, allowing it to "hear" things thus allowing it to write the answers to questions. |
8,134 | 218 | 13 | 1,620 | 74 | Henry was not really comfortable around all these people, but he paid attention to every word that was said, every movement that was made and the most interesting was the woman among them. It hadn't taken Henry long to understand that how young she looked did not match reality, she seemed to speak someone that almost matched the age of his mom. A small smirk crossed his face as she finished her speech and by this point there was no doubt in his mind that this woman was playing him for a fool and he was not about to let her think otherwise. He played interested as the sparks started to fly from her fingers, but he didn't pay much attention to it. Because something she had said had gotten his attention and was echoing in his head "setting eachother on fire" for some reason those words just stuck.
What really sparked a flame inside Henry was when the man that later told them that his name was Frank said he knew who this witch and the way he said it just made it better. Henry knew if you knew someone because of education they couldn't just be some pushover. The semi warning made it even more clear that messing with this girl would not be smart. Henry nodded towards Frank to be polite.
"My name is Henry and as of now thats all you need to know. I just feel like it will be a chaos-" He threw a look over at the woman hoping that his hook had made her flinch or at least give him some idea if he was right "-chaos if we all spent to long on this" He knew it was a shoot in the dark, but the only middle-age witch that uses fire and was commonly know (at least if you read about magic users) was the chaos witch. "I just hope we can work together" | Name:
Henry Trafalgar
Gender:
Male
Age:
18
Race:
Human (wizard)
Biography:
As the child of two wizards Henry was bound to have magical powers, that however did not stop his parents from hiding it. They did everything without magic and didn’t as much as blow the leaves away by messing with the wind. No they lived just as normal people or they did until Henry started to make things happen. They were happy and Henry lived without any knowledge of what he was capable off. That was the moment they knew that if they didn’t teach their kid how to control himself this would get out of hand.
Because you see at the age of 12 Henry started to watch anime, dragon ball z to be right on point and as all children he started to pretend fight with his friends. His mom meant it was adorable and didn’t break it up before she saw a strange small glowing orb in her child’s hands. She ran out and picked up Henry before he got done with his Kamehameha, to Henry’s great disappointment. When she asked Henry how he had learned to do that he just answered “that guy in the anime did it and I practiced really hard and now I can do it” That was the point in time where is parents slowly but surely told him that firing bolts of energy at your friends is not something you should be doing.
Now he is has learned all of his parent’s tricks and magical abilities he is more careful, he thinks much more about his actions. He uses magic to blow the leaves however…. Nobody wants to do that by hand. He has continued to live a sheltered life and has not used his abilities in front of anyone, but that’s all about to change.
Personality:’
He is extremely well mannered and polite. He is not the kind that will step on your toes or say a bad word about you, but that does not mean he likes you. He finds it extremely easy to smile when his whole body is just trembling with the urge to lash out and turn whatever is in front of him to ashes. His hunger for power and knowledge is extreme and he often forgets the time and ends up reading the whole night.
But his life has also made him rather lonely, he is afraid that if he shows someone what he can do they will just call him a freak and run. He hates keeping it all in and now its time to let it all go (best song tie in ever !)
Preferred Weaponry:
Not any weapons to note
Notable Possessions:
The key around his neck
He always has the key with him and holds onto it for dear life. Some even dear to say that the key is what will unlock his past.
Theme Song:
Miscellaneous:
Don’t fuck with his hair… if you know whats best for you. |
8,135 | 218 | 14 | 676 | 780 | Beatrice spoke something of teamwork. Teamwork, yes that was important. Probably it was a good idea. The four mages were not the most welcoming bunch, and he could detect a whiff of racism from some of them. That would make this investigation... interesting to say the least. Then the eldest brought up pay. Specifically from him. At this moment, the bartender who had been keenly listening into the conversation stepped up
"The werewolf here is not the one with the reward, I however, am." The aged vampire hoped his reputation preceded him and would garner attention of the wizards and witch before him. "The 'dog' here" He did visible airquotes around the common racial slur "Has been working for me for some time here. And everything he is telling you is directly from me." He patted Cyrus on the back and leaned into to whisper into his ear. "An employee of mine shall sort things out at your place for you. He shall also acquire your possessions and bring them here." He stood back and addressed the group "Now, my aspiring hunters, I can prepare a private, soundproof room for you to discuss, should you so wish." He smiled an appealing smile that showed off his fangs.
Cyrus was taken aback, usually Michael did not get involved in hunts. He knew that the bartender had put up the bill in the first place and it's solution was very important to him. But he usually left the vigilante movement alone. | Name: Cyrus “Cy” Samuels
Appearance:
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Race: Werewolf
Biography: Cyrus was born to one of the last traditional werewolf packs in the world, a clan spread through most of Australia. The pack operated somewhat like a mafia, wiping out individuals who threatened their interests and living a life of general luxury, in spite of their lack of morals. Cyrus was raised to hate humanity, consider them as merely prey and incapable of any “wolf-like” virtues such as honor or cunning. As he grew up in the pack, he was taught to fight from a very young age. He was born during a time when there had been a large amount of new pups and so to keep the population down they were to fight in a ring for the amusement of the pack. Being one of the few to make it out of the deathmatches when he was only five years old, he was considered to be a promising young wolf who would do excellent work for the pack.
For the next six years he was taught many things, how to use human made weapons like guns and knives, as well as his natural tools to intimidate, assault, and kill humans as well as some other Supernaturals such as vampires. Despite the wide ranging power of the pack, they had many enemies, and several exiled members as well as Supernatural vigilantes conspired with the police force to wipe them out once and for all. A special forces raid was ultimately decided to break it up, though it was kept very under the table with the Australian government and for the most part the vigilantes did the fighting. Thirty-one Werewolves were killed that day, though the public only knew it as a raid on a crime ring.
Within the chaos, a young Cyrus, using his werewolf cunning, devised a way to survive. Keeping himself in his human form, he took a knife and pinned himself to a wall by the hands, when the vigilantes came in, he claimed to be a human child that the pack had taken captive. Despite knowing something suspicious was up, he was let go and put for adoption. He was a good actor, and lived out the rest of his childhood and teenage years in relative peace. Other than those few full moon nights where he always seemed to go missing.
At 18 he got a letter delivered specifically to him, it was one of the bounty hunters who had been responsible for wrecking his family. Inside it merely said “I know what you are kid, but you've behaved well, I can't believe you are as bad as those who raised you. So go to Blackbury, it's a city in England that's very friendly to our kind, you can find work that suits your... 'talents.' Should you wish.”
Cyrus said goodbye to his foster parents and left for England with what meager money they could scrape up. Immediately upon arrival, he received a very warm welcome, he was invited to come to a certain club, and was offered a job that he would “enjoy.”
Underworld seemed nice enough, the owner was remarkably personable for a Vampire, and even offered to let Cyrus stay in one of the back rooms of the bar while he got on his feet in the new city. Bounty hunting was an exhilarating job that Cyrus came to love. And after 6 years he has become one of the most established hunters of the dark in all of Blackbury.
Personality: Cyrus is, contrary to his upbringing, kind and with a sense of justice. His early experiences forever put him against his own species, he for a long time considered most werewolves to be vicious monsters like his family was, and has only recently come to rectify this attitude. He tries to treat all races with respect and dignity, as well as remaining humble about himself.
Weaponry: Cyrus was trained with all manner of lethal tools but was particularly trained with concealable ones. As a result, he carries knives and handguns. He has a large personal collection of both and all sorts of modifications, as well as connections with black market arms dealers. (Supernaturals skirt the law and can get away with a lot, even gun control laws in England)
Possessions: His own weapon collection, magically enchanted clothes that will remain whole when he shapeshifts, a sizable amount of saved money.
Theme Song: I'm My Own Master Now
Miscellaneous: |
8,136 | 218 | 15 | 2,660 | 275 | Frank bounced his eyebrows up slightly and cocked his slightly at Henry's slight on Beatrice, it was clear he knew something about her, maybe not as much as he needed, but more than nothing that's for sure, he couldn't say anything about his magical abilities, but judging by the way he stands and holds him self with such high confidence, enough to subtlety call-out a powerful witch, there must've been more to him than what was on the surface. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
Then the bartender came over, why did the bartender come over? Oh shit, Frank realized; he was the one who had put up the bounty, not the werewolf. He was however working with him and suddenly to Franks surprise he recognized the bartender, he already knew he was a vampire before he even flashed his fangs, but this man had been
around for well... ever. This was very interesting all of sudden, if this man needed help figuring out these murders then something was very serious about them, it made Frank curious, he'd have to wait to see some bodies before he looked too into this. Frank noted Cyrus's shock when Micheal piped up and offered the room, also very interesting, either he's not used to him directly confronting him on jobs, or he's jumpy, the latter seems unlikely, but he's seen a werewolf be uncomfortable in it's own skin before.
"We'll take the room." Frank blurted out, not waiting for anyone else in the group to throw-in their two cents, he figured one: It was the most logical solution, nowhere else would be more secure and two: Frank didn't have anywhere to sleep or stay for that matter, he'd fallen asleep in a restaurant the other day after eating his breakfast and apparently letting old men fall asleep after a filling meal is frowned upon or something. That and he hated hotel rooms, they made him uncomfortable, and there is hardly ever room to do anything in them, a flat surface and a large amount of space was all he required. | Name: Frank Mennen
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Race: Human (Magic user, Necromancy in specific.)
Biography: Frank was born in England, but spent much of his early life in a very secluded, rural Wales. Both his parents were magic users but were very secretive about it, due to their experimentation into some of the darker elements magic. When Frank was 12, the nearest village caught wind of Frank and his family, normally it wouldn't have worried them, except the village wanted them gone and had subsequently hired a pack of werewolves to attack him and his family, having anticipated this, Frank's parents managed to successfully get Frank out of the house, while his parents were murdered. Young Frank returned to house two days later, retrieved what little records his parents kept on magic and a few other things and set out on his own.
For Many years he traveled on his own, his transient life style and practice of strange and "immoral" magics disallowed him to make an permanent relationships with anyone, and due to the attack, he had and still is very wary of werewolves. Frank had more or less mastered the "art" of necromancy which at it's core was blood magic, by using his own blood or someone else blood (which is very seldom) and imbuing with magic he can briefly resurrect just about anyone or anything, this is particularly useful in obtaining information from the deceased, and one more than one occasion using bones of the dead to distract or occasionally kill would-be attackers. Due to the use of his own blood so often, Frank boasts several scars, and nicks across his hands and arms, his drug of choice to fuel his magic is cocaine and he carries a tin of it on him at all times.
Frank managed to end up in Blackbury after chasing a man who had information on his family tree, one person in particular, a great great uncle or something that taught all the other members of his family necromancy, and who is rumored to still be alive, however in the middle of the chase the man was hit by a speeding train and quite literally exploded, Frank managed to re-animate what was left of the head, but all it gave him was a garbled mess of words.
Personality: Frank is a bit anti-social, not by his own means, he just never had a chance to get the proper being around people thing done. Despite this and his strange and sometimes disgusting use of magic he's learned to fit in a crown more or less, he's often blunt to the point of being rude, but he just can't seem to help it. He has a very analytical mind, constantly surveying his surroundings and looking at the finer details of events as they unfold, This is due to constantly searching looking for every little clue that will help him figure out more about his supposed great great uncle or something. He's eager to help there is something in it for him,the reward doesn't even need to be that great, just as long as it's something to look forward to that he couldn't obtain by his own means.
Weaponry: Frank usually has a knife or two on him, mostly he uses them on himself, but there's been a time or two he's needed to use it on something other than his arm or hand.
He carries a small revolver with a full cylinder of silver bullets, mostly to scare away would-be werewolf attackers.
Other Possessions: A few vials and bottles for holding blood and other bodily fluids and sometimes organs.
as well as bag of bones. Literally. He also carries a decent amount of medical supplies, mainly bandages to dress his cuts, but carries a few basic essentials as well.
Theme Song: God's away on business, Tom Waits.
Miscellaneous:
How Frank's Necromancy works; an informative guide on how to be dead:
Frank imbues blood with magic giving life to the deceased, it doesn't matter how long they've been dead, just the quantity of blood.
for the most part re-animated bodies can speak so long as the organs required for speech are still intact, as well as the brain.
Bodies that are animated are for the most part under Franks control via the magic-blood, however a dead body needs not organs or anything to be reanimated, for instance a skeleton can be reanimated, the head will fill with blood and the blood will trace the skeletons bones, and Frank will be able to have control of it until the bones are destroyed or is over fatigued by controlling it. This goes for single body parts as well, Frank can reanimate a hand or other body part and can control it for a period of time, if the body is close enough, the hand will act as though it's receiving from the brain still, allowing it to "hear" things thus allowing it to write the answers to questions. |
8,137 | 218 | 16 | 2,371 | 1,543 | Beatrice could hardly contain her amusement at how not one, but two of their companions had already caught onto her true identity. She hadn't been trying all that hard to hide it, but she was still a little impressed at their deductive skills, even hazarding to guess they may have little trouble in the coming challenge. This minor hunch wasn't any reason for her to drop the illusion yet, she was rather certain that they had no hard evidence, so she might as well play with them a bit longer before the big reveal. Her expression remains a mask of cheery enthusiasm through all of the two's comments, only stopping to nod once or twice in agreement with Frank's agreement and with the bloodsucker's strangely friendly invitation. There wasn't much to comment on about the arrival, she had already gathered that he was in some way related, and she wasn't surprised in the slightest when he showed up and told them off passively. He spoke in an indirect manner, so Beatrice made note to be careful around him, he seemed like the manipulative type just at a glance.
Following the flow of the conversation after an unexpected outburst from the second quietest member of the group, the young witch steps forth to stand face-to-face with their vampiric patron-
"I think we'd like to take you up on that offer, I find my thoughts distracted when amongst such clamorous folk. It may do us all well to get somewhere quiet so we can...get to know eachother." She gestures for their resident vampire to lead the way, and after he gives a well-mannered "This way", follows after him to where the private room was located. He guides them through a darker portion of the club and past a small handful of curious patrons, eventually leading them to an inconspicuous side door. With the rap of a hand, the door opens up to reveal a comfortable lounge-like room reserved for them.
The Chaos Witch takes a step inside, her great hat seemingly shrinking impossibly as she walks through the door so that it wouldn't brush the sides. It reverts to its original size immediately, but it had unmistakably changed its shape for a brief instant on the way in. Not waiting to be ushered in, she walks straight to one of the seats near the centre of the room and sinks down into it with elegant posture. The room was plenty large enough for them to talk freely, and from the sounds of it, it was entirely soundproof. With a subtle smile stretched across her face, it seemed the witch Beatrice was pleased at how things were playing out. She waited patiently for the conversation to begin anew, showing no interest in spearheading the process so long as she wasn't needed. This seemed to betray the false character she was attempting to portray, but it seemed a few in their group had already caught on that she was concealing her identity. She ran over the circumstances and information a few times in her head, trying to consider the possibilities and pinpoint the unknown factors at play. She didn't have enough information to make a sound deduction yet, but she had a hunch that things weren't going as smoothly as it might seem. | Name:
Beatrice Elseway
Chaos Witch, Beatrice
Age:
37
Gender:
Female
Species:
Human,
Magic User
Personality:
Beatrice is a fickle and unpredictable woman who truly earns the unique title of Chaos Witch, having trumped countless daunting foes with little more than her genius and a little bit of magic. She's a prodigal magic user who has long since cast off her pride, devoting her entire existence to the pursuit of magic and its mysteries. She favours ordinary humans more than most supernaturals do, often gracing their lives with awesome gifts of magic, often at a terrible price further down the line. She is known for her cruel, and yet strangely compassionate nature, she exists constantly in a state of fluctuating humanity and sanity.
History:
Rumours say that the legendary Witch, Beatrice, has been spotted in Blackbury recently. She hasn't done anything worth noting while here, and has actually been deep in hiding for the last few months, silently watching as the supernaturals went about their daily business, completely obscured from the eyes of both the human world and the world of the night. She has gained a hefty reputation since her arrival in the UK, even being rumoured to be the most powerful magic user currently alive, but little is known about her past the identity she's been given by the public.
She was born and raised in a small village nestled deep in the mountains, completely isolated from the outside world. Ever since she was born, she's had the gift of magic, her parents didn't have it, and the power had never been seen in the village before her. Naturally, she would have been outcast if the others int he village found out, so her parents carefully hid her and sternly ordered her to never explore her gifts. Her naturally curious mind wouldn't allow it, and she was found out by the other villagers in no time. Normally, this would be the point where the budding witch would be burned at the stake, stoned to death or simply thrown into the wild to die, but Beatrice was different from most witches.
By the time she had finished experimenting with the last of the village's inhabitants, she was already in her late teens, and she still hadn't even seen a single glimpse of the outside world. Determining that there was no more to be learned in the small village of her birth, she bid farewell to the empty houses that had been her prison, and went off in search of a new world. Her trek was perilous, but she would soon discover that the world was a much larger and more wondrous place than she had imagined. She soon found herself in a city, one with so many technological wonders that she could hardly contain her excitement. An unlimited amount of learning was lying before her, and all she needed to do was grasp it. She later estimated that the village she had grown up in was approximately a hundred years behind the rest of the world in terms of knowledge, and she soon found all sorts of wonderful things to challenge her brilliant mind with. But of course, in the end, she would always come back to the one true art, the place where it all began. Magic, she learned, was even more amazing than she had thought, and she had still not even scratched the surface.
In the days after that, her experiments with magic went further than any other witch of her age, and she soon became what you could call an expert in the field. The extensive journeys into magic had changed Beatrice from the curious, innocent girl she had been before, she was noticing a change in her personality and emotions that she could not have possibly predicted. In time, this girl grew to become the person who is known today as the Chaos Witch, bringing forth a tremendous firestorm that engulfed an entire city in its insatiable flame. She moved on, following the trail of something that wasn't human, and eventually finding a village filled with a whole new, completely unexpected kind of knowledge. She wasn't alone. |
8,138 | 218 | 17 | 1,069 | 661 | Bowing slightly as Beatrice breezed past him, Michael followed her into the private room with the smallest of smiles on his pale face. He liked this one. She had... class. Definitely a far cry from the usual rowdy werewolves. Taking his eyes off of her rather supple form for a moment, the vampire glanced around the room and raised a dark eyebrow. "Hmph," he said at last. "An acquiantance of mine was supposed to be waiting in here to speak to you all, but it seems she has seen fit to make herself sca-"
As if in response, there was a massive sound from behind a sofa in one of the poorly-lit corners. A thundering snore. "Oh my dear sweet Lord," said the bartender, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's her." Sure enough, when he went to check, a dark-haired woman in a long brown coat was asleep on the floor (and still snoring). "She sounds like a jet engine," Michael muttered to himself, before giving her several vigorous shakes. "Wake up, goddamnit!" he finally shouted, and slowly, one dark eye cracked open.
"You bite your mother with that mouth?" Sighing in exasperation, the vampire stood up. "You're one to talk. Didn't you eat yours, or something?" Suppressing a yawn, his "friend" pushed herself upright, and peered across the room at Beatrice. "Something like that. I had just hatched, though, and you can't blame a baby dragon for being hungry..." Rather hastily, she wiped the drool off of her face with the sleeve of her coat, got to her feet, and walked over to the Chaos Witch without a second glance at Michael. Something about the young woman was... off.
For a split second, the dragon's eyes flashed bright gold, and the nature of the witch's blurry edges was revealed: an illusion, and a powerful one at that. She couldn't even see through it, at least without taking the time to prepare a Truth spell, and there was only a single mage in Blackbury who had that kind of power. Blatantly staring, she looked directly at the indististinct outline of the witch's head, and nodded. She knew exactly who it was, illusion or no. In fact, she had been hoping to run into this particular witch... After a moment, she noticed the other four, the boys, and realized that she still hadn't introduced herself.
Mustering a hard smile, the woman looked at each of them in turn, committing their faces to memory as she spoke. "Now then, I daresay it's time I introduced myself. Noor Dhahabi, at your service. Unless you've been in Blackbury a while, like our friend Cyrus here, you probably haven't heard of 'the Constable'. Well, to put it mildly, I'm the one that gives the wolves the scent, and tells them to, er, 'fetch'. Whenever there's a body, a murder involving one of us, I'm there, investigating, determining whether it's serious enough for a bounty (many times I just take care of it all myself). A couple innocent supernaturals in the humans' jail? I'm there, sweet-talking and bribing those poor bastards to get our people out before they rip someone in half... And a case like this? Well, I'm all over it! -yawn- Let's just say I'm the best person in Blackbury to help you get to the bottom of this mess."
Michael interjected from behind her, his face still a bit sour. "Indeed. Despite Ms. Dhahabi's less-than-professional manner, she's been in the game for centuries, and has definitely pulled my arse out of the fire more than a few times... With Cyrus and the Constable both, I couldn't leave you in more capable hands. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I've got to get back to the bar. You don't want to see what happens when a werewolf can't get a drink." The old vampire nodded, and briskly left the soundproof room, closing the door behind him.
"Alright!", Noor roared, rubbing her hands together excitedly and running back to her corner to retrieve her briefcase. "I've got a good amount of preliminary evidence from the crime scenes which I'm sure you're all itching to look at, including..." For a moment, it seemed that the dragon's arm had disappeared much too far into the case, and it came out holding a large plexiglass urn that couldn't possibly have fit inside. "This! You see, one of the victims was a vampire, and this is what's left of him. Notice the places where the ash is blackened? Holy Water. Nasty way to go, I've heard. Anyway, here, you hold it," she said absently, tossing the urn at random to Frank. "What else, what else... Ah." Next was a slender laptop, which she booted up, and opened a folder on the desktop labeled "A Weird One". "There you are. All of my pictures from the crime scenes, including quite a bit of data from the human detectives, all of my notes and speculations so far, it's all there. Go hog wild. Too bad they were smart, and barely left any trail to follow, or I might not have needed any help... Anyway, once we all know the basic facts, we can put our heads together and figure out how we're going to go about catching these bastards. Any questions, new bloods?" | Name:
Noor Dhahabi, “the Constable”
Sex:
Female
Age:
A little under five-thousand years
Race:
Pacted Dragon (Gold)
Background:
“The Sheriff of Blackbury”, or in more recent years, simply “the Constable” has been a fixture of the city since its founding, having come to England around 150 years after the Pact (she originally heard of the country from a Crusader during one of the occupations of Jerusalem, and after a century, decided she could use a change of scenery). Using some of the considerable wealth she had brought from the Holy Land, Noor lived under various assumed identities for a few hundred years, enjoying her life as a human (which was at that point quite new to her). She had never had any love of dangerous vampires, though, and when she heard rumors about the town, she traveled to it and became something of an unofficial member of the resident clan of Slayers: they would provide her with a clandestine source of meat and fruits (though they appear human, these beings internally remain dragons, and their appetites reflect this), and in return, when there was a particularly nasty or powerful vampire around, she would tag along and “draw its fire”, so to speak, allowing the Slayers more of a chance to take it by surprise. Over time, as the order lessened in influence and greater numbers of supernatural beings, including more subtle and intelligent vampires began to call Blackbury their home, Noor found herself with a new job: keeping them all alive.
Noor has seen it all, in five centuries of living in Blackbury and several millennia before, and if she was honest with herself, she’d see that it was starting to get to her. Even nigh-immortal magical beings need rest, but there’s always something, some threat she has to track down, someone she has to kill to keep the humans away from the pitchforks and torches, and no matter how tough her scales are (and by God are they tough), fight after fight with powerful supernaturals is going to take a mental toll. She’s overworked, stressed, and working on her biting cynicism, but dragons are built to endure, and she won’t be seeing her last job anytime soon.
Now, suddenly, there’s something new. Someone is attacking on both sides, and (of course), she and her "crew" are the only ones with the knowhow and the means to stop it. Some part of Noor hopes that maybe, after this job, things might go quiet. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll have a good decade or so to rest… But really, she’s not one for fanciful thoughts.
Weaponry:
At her “station”, Noor maintains a very small (but very modern) arsenal composed of surreptitiously acquired British Armed Forces weapons, such as the SA80 assault rifle, the Benelli M4 combat shotgun, and a single suppressed MAC-10 machine pistol, all with a fair amount of appropriate ammunition (including a very limited supply of silver ammunition, for use against werewolves). At her house, she also keeps many of her older weapons in good condition, just in case.
Over the centuries, Noor has utilized various and sundry personal weapons, including spears and pikes, crossbows, daggers, a heavy battle-axe (a birthday gift from Brinnie), and an impressive variety of guns, from old flintlock rifles to some of the first revolvers, all the way up to her current concealable handgun, the SIG Sauer P250 (chambered in reliable .357 SIG). It is a fairly recent acquisition, but she has centuries of experience in learning the use of new weapons, and has already mastered many of its idiosyncrasies. Though the SIG Sauer’s use in taking down werewolves is limited at best, especially without silver ammo, which is very expensive to produce in large amounts, vampires can be slowed down for a bit and mages, if distracted, can be incapacitated or killed in just a couple of shots, one if she’s lucky. In the end, she mostly carries it for comfort. Finally, when she knows werewolves are about, she slips a large silver dagger into a sheath at the bottom of her coat’s right-hand pocket. Otherwise, it stays in the car.
Other Possessions:
A pretty large collection of ancient and eclectic items from her past, including a small Babylonian idol of her mother and a massive collection of vinyl LPs, some of which are pushing 70 years old at this point. Boris put all of her music on an iPod years ago, but she still much prefers listening to them in their original form, generally only using her iPod in the car.
Theme Song:
SHAFT!
Miscellaneous:
Dragon magic is not like human magic. It is primal, having to do mostly with the fundamental energy in the world. Possible practical uses include tracking the energy of powerful mages, very limited geomancy, and temporarily regaining certain draconic traits (such as powerful vision, or the ability to breathe underwater), among others. |
8,139 | 218 | 18 | 43 | 91 | Jakob listened to Cyrus' description of the bodies - shredded, drained of blood, dumped in alleyways. The people they were looking for obviously weren't the shy, reserved types then. His eyes drifted over the others as they listened to the description. For the younger woman Beatrice, who herself was keenly focused on Cyrus but as she spoke she was quick, sharp and to the point. However jolly her body language was, there was something cold about the way she analysed everyone. Before she could notice him staring, Jakob looked away. Something inside him told him not to trust this woman; there was something innately deceitful about her, even if he didn't know what it was.
It didn't surprise him that she wanted to establish an order to the group so soon, and probably wanted to be up on those top rungs of leadership herself. Not that it's a bad idea. Jakob noted as Frank agreed. Frank, Jakob thought, was also straight to the point. He did bumble a little on the way there, and maybe he was a bit too forthcoming with his comment about Werewolves. He decided he could trust Frank. Probably too old for bullshitting. He just wants to get the job done. Dandy. Jakob thought. He listened as Henry introduced himself - he seemed shy and unsure of his words, and his boyish face hadn't even caught up with his already young age. But the others probably think I look too young too. Fresh from high school. Jakob thought to himself, suppressing a smile.
He was glad when the Vampire stepped forward to tell them they could move to a soundproof room and gave a chuckle when he mocked Frank's disapproval of the werewolf. | Name: Jakob Abel
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Race: Magic-user
Biography: Jakob was born to a single-mother in a tiny village in Bavaria, Southern Germany. Unfortunately this tiny village was mostly made up of the members of an infamous Christian cult in Germany which was rumoured to be rife with child abuse and rape. It didn't help that passers by often found shrines draped with the carcasses of animals and other burnt remains, which were also rumoured to be the offerings of the cult to God.
Most of these rumours were true. But this cult wasn't always so extreme; before Jakob was born here a mysterious man arrived in the village claiming that he was sent by God to lead the villagers as God had finally recognised them as his true followers. He introduced himself as Zachiah, and demonstrated his magical abilities which he claimed were God given. As Zachiah led the cult into more extreme acts, he raped several of the women in the cult including Jakob's mother. Non-believers and all those who doubted began to go missing over the years, if they hadn't fled already.
When Jakob was a year old, Zachiah had left the village and moved on. Most likely to another gullible little village who would give him power and money. His mother Ewa was absolute in the fact that Zachiah was a messenger of God and that the rapture was nigh; she would beat Jakob and force him to work the fields and practise scripture until he became the man that Zachiah was. It was only when he was sixteen, when his magical abilities surfaced, that Jakob was finally allowed to see the darker parts of the cult beyond the church walls; the people being dragged out of their homes into the dark fields in the night and being sacrificed. The village was now under the leadership of Mathias, a once close friend of Zachiah's. Jakob became more disenchanted with the cult and their actions, but he didn't understand his magic enough to do much to help anyone. It was around this time that Jakob made his first friend outside of the church, a boy his age named Blake. He was a Canadian boy whose father had come to Germany to pursue a job opportunity, and they didn't seem to take the rumours of the village seriously.
It was over the next year that everything came together for Jakob. He practised his magic at every opportunity he could, and understood the effects it had on him. He learned the spells his father once cast, his 'miracles'. Some things he found he could perform better than others. Levitation came easy, and once he'd summoned fire once it was a breeze. His friendship with Blake grew and more and more Jakob learned that all he was taught growing up was wrong. Eventually, Jakob found himself falling in love with Blake and even told him about his powers. He took him to a remote part of the village close to the mountains and took his hands and levitated both of them high up into the trees where they had their first kiss.
A month later, Blake and his father's house was burned down in the middle of the night as they slept. Jakob was heartbroken, and it wasn't long after that the most influential cult members began to disappear, and by the time the villagers caught on that Jakob was killing them off he returned home to collect his things to flee his village. But his mother was waiting at home, determined to avenge the other members of the cult. She tried to shoot him in the chest with a hunting rifle as he arrived home, but he managed to melt the barrel before she pulled the trigger. He didn't even think about what he was doing, but moments later she was on fire.
Years passed since then, and Jakob travelled around Europe. Magic made life easier but he felt lonesome and decided he wanted to meet other magic-users, so took off towards Blackbury.
Personality: Impulsive, vengeful, reclusive, changeable, obsessive. Overall, he is damaged. At his core he wants only to be happy and have something stable.
Weaponry: N/A
Other Possessions:
Theme Song: I think the song gets across the whole 'damaged' idea.
Miscellaneous: |
8,140 | 218 | 19 | 2,660 | 275 | Frank moved into the room, and like all the others was startled to find someone already in there, and they were sleeping, he envied that much about them at least.
The lady and Michael made small take after he abruptly woke her up, Frank didn't pay much attention, for once, whatever they were talking about didn't hold much captivate him nearly as much as how comfortable some of the seats in the room, his lack of sleep catching up with him now. He was used to it in all honesty, sleep was such a troublesome thing sometimes, but right now it sounded pretty nice. The lady introduced herself loudly, which caught Frank's attention finally, Noor Dhahabi... The name didn't ring any bells, but it was old, older than just old actually it was archaic, Frank studied her carefully for a brief moment, she wasn't any of the standard three supernaturals that was for sure, he felt a weird presence from her, but couldn't quite put his finger on it, he decided not to dwell on it for now.
Frank listened as she produced a case and with her mouth set to rapid-fire began detailing the case, she suddenly reached in to her case and somehow produced an urn which she quickly opened to display that it was once a vampire, and no sooner than it was open, she shut it. Then no sooner than she had shut it, it was in the air, coming right towards Frank, he barely managed to catch it, letting bounce off of his open palm the first time, before cradling it close to his chest, he peered inside briefly, it was indeed all ash, some darker than the rest. He couldn't work with this, he tried resurrecting ash once, it took too much blood and it just turned into the congealed dark mess and slithered around the floor for a moment before turning into a little puddle with himself nearly passed out from blood-loss.
She then brought out a laptop and began bringing up reports on the murders, Frank became interested again, but he decided it was too much energy to actually move over to see anything so he spoke instead. "Are their heads still there?" Frank said while motioning with his head towards the laptop, still cradling the vase, unsure if he should set it down or not. "If they are I want to talk to them." | Name: Frank Mennen
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Race: Human (Magic user, Necromancy in specific.)
Biography: Frank was born in England, but spent much of his early life in a very secluded, rural Wales. Both his parents were magic users but were very secretive about it, due to their experimentation into some of the darker elements magic. When Frank was 12, the nearest village caught wind of Frank and his family, normally it wouldn't have worried them, except the village wanted them gone and had subsequently hired a pack of werewolves to attack him and his family, having anticipated this, Frank's parents managed to successfully get Frank out of the house, while his parents were murdered. Young Frank returned to house two days later, retrieved what little records his parents kept on magic and a few other things and set out on his own.
For Many years he traveled on his own, his transient life style and practice of strange and "immoral" magics disallowed him to make an permanent relationships with anyone, and due to the attack, he had and still is very wary of werewolves. Frank had more or less mastered the "art" of necromancy which at it's core was blood magic, by using his own blood or someone else blood (which is very seldom) and imbuing with magic he can briefly resurrect just about anyone or anything, this is particularly useful in obtaining information from the deceased, and one more than one occasion using bones of the dead to distract or occasionally kill would-be attackers. Due to the use of his own blood so often, Frank boasts several scars, and nicks across his hands and arms, his drug of choice to fuel his magic is cocaine and he carries a tin of it on him at all times.
Frank managed to end up in Blackbury after chasing a man who had information on his family tree, one person in particular, a great great uncle or something that taught all the other members of his family necromancy, and who is rumored to still be alive, however in the middle of the chase the man was hit by a speeding train and quite literally exploded, Frank managed to re-animate what was left of the head, but all it gave him was a garbled mess of words.
Personality: Frank is a bit anti-social, not by his own means, he just never had a chance to get the proper being around people thing done. Despite this and his strange and sometimes disgusting use of magic he's learned to fit in a crown more or less, he's often blunt to the point of being rude, but he just can't seem to help it. He has a very analytical mind, constantly surveying his surroundings and looking at the finer details of events as they unfold, This is due to constantly searching looking for every little clue that will help him figure out more about his supposed great great uncle or something. He's eager to help there is something in it for him,the reward doesn't even need to be that great, just as long as it's something to look forward to that he couldn't obtain by his own means.
Weaponry: Frank usually has a knife or two on him, mostly he uses them on himself, but there's been a time or two he's needed to use it on something other than his arm or hand.
He carries a small revolver with a full cylinder of silver bullets, mostly to scare away would-be werewolf attackers.
Other Possessions: A few vials and bottles for holding blood and other bodily fluids and sometimes organs.
as well as bag of bones. Literally. He also carries a decent amount of medical supplies, mainly bandages to dress his cuts, but carries a few basic essentials as well.
Theme Song: God's away on business, Tom Waits.
Miscellaneous:
How Frank's Necromancy works; an informative guide on how to be dead:
Frank imbues blood with magic giving life to the deceased, it doesn't matter how long they've been dead, just the quantity of blood.
for the most part re-animated bodies can speak so long as the organs required for speech are still intact, as well as the brain.
Bodies that are animated are for the most part under Franks control via the magic-blood, however a dead body needs not organs or anything to be reanimated, for instance a skeleton can be reanimated, the head will fill with blood and the blood will trace the skeletons bones, and Frank will be able to have control of it until the bones are destroyed or is over fatigued by controlling it. This goes for single body parts as well, Frank can reanimate a hand or other body part and can control it for a period of time, if the body is close enough, the hand will act as though it's receiving from the brain still, allowing it to "hear" things thus allowing it to write the answers to questions. |
8,141 | 218 | 20 | 1,620 | 74 | Henry followed the rest f the gang into the room and placed himself against the wall. He looked at everyone that started to gather and felt a bit uncomfortable being surrounded by all these people that he didn't know. He had never been good with people, so he just stayed quiet and listened as things unfolded. His eyes had a way of traveling towards Jacob. He was about the same age Henry and he was the only one Henry felt he had anything in common with, other then the fat that the group was 4/5 mages.
Henry made a loud sigh as the man named Frank asked about their heads. He turned his head and looked right at Frank. Sure the man was older then Henry, but that was not going to stop Henry."Did you even listen to what was said ? They left no trace and I'm guessing that means they didn't leave us the ability to just talk to the dead body, because if they did this whole thing would be way to easy. Im sorry for being so blunt, but I dont think you will be able to talk to it, but I wont leave out the option that the body can still be useful."
He was halfway expecting to be called a brat or something, but before anyone got to say anything he asked Noor "You said barely, so what is the lead we actually have got ?" He sorta felt a rush of confidence when he stopped talking. He walked over to the notes and well Noor wasn't just making things up when she said it wasn't much. Henry could even with a great lack of knowledge about how one should go around detective work tell that this was really as little as you got before you just gave up. Looking at the pictures his stomach turned a bit, it wasn't at all what CSI had made it out to be. | Name:
Henry Trafalgar
Gender:
Male
Age:
18
Race:
Human (wizard)
Biography:
As the child of two wizards Henry was bound to have magical powers, that however did not stop his parents from hiding it. They did everything without magic and didn’t as much as blow the leaves away by messing with the wind. No they lived just as normal people or they did until Henry started to make things happen. They were happy and Henry lived without any knowledge of what he was capable off. That was the moment they knew that if they didn’t teach their kid how to control himself this would get out of hand.
Because you see at the age of 12 Henry started to watch anime, dragon ball z to be right on point and as all children he started to pretend fight with his friends. His mom meant it was adorable and didn’t break it up before she saw a strange small glowing orb in her child’s hands. She ran out and picked up Henry before he got done with his Kamehameha, to Henry’s great disappointment. When she asked Henry how he had learned to do that he just answered “that guy in the anime did it and I practiced really hard and now I can do it” That was the point in time where is parents slowly but surely told him that firing bolts of energy at your friends is not something you should be doing.
Now he is has learned all of his parent’s tricks and magical abilities he is more careful, he thinks much more about his actions. He uses magic to blow the leaves however…. Nobody wants to do that by hand. He has continued to live a sheltered life and has not used his abilities in front of anyone, but that’s all about to change.
Personality:’
He is extremely well mannered and polite. He is not the kind that will step on your toes or say a bad word about you, but that does not mean he likes you. He finds it extremely easy to smile when his whole body is just trembling with the urge to lash out and turn whatever is in front of him to ashes. His hunger for power and knowledge is extreme and he often forgets the time and ends up reading the whole night.
But his life has also made him rather lonely, he is afraid that if he shows someone what he can do they will just call him a freak and run. He hates keeping it all in and now its time to let it all go (best song tie in ever !)
Preferred Weaponry:
Not any weapons to note
Notable Possessions:
The key around his neck
He always has the key with him and holds onto it for dear life. Some even dear to say that the key is what will unlock his past.
Theme Song:
Miscellaneous:
Don’t fuck with his hair… if you know whats best for you. |
8,142 | 218 | 21 | 676 | 780 | Cyrus followed the group into the room from the rear, keeping an eye out around them in case they were being watched. Of course, nobody would dare spring them in the bar, but he had his suspicions about who may be a target, and it wasn't narcissism that made him fear for his own life. He didn't see anything suspicious, and he trusted Michael was also being careful, he stepped into the room last. Surprised to smell, and then hear, another presence in the room. That woman.
Noor, The Constable, whatever you call her. Cyrus had heard of her many times, and she was one of the most important people in the city. If she was here, right now, then Michael was eager to get things solved right away. Michael stepped out and Cyrus leaned against the wall and watched the group lounge on the couches and listen. Noor happened to have quite a bit of evidence already. He glanced with mild disinterest at the vampiric ash held by Frank, though he became very interested at the elder wizards words. Talk to the dead? That's something the werewolf had never heard of, he was about to interject and ask what that meant, when he felt a vibration in his pocket.
Cyrus pulled the phone out of his pocket and tapped in the password, it was from Michael "watch your back coming out" it said. Cyrus sighed internally, just as he had suspected. He moved from the wall and sat down on the couch, a fair distance from everybody. He kept attentive to the conversation but checked his jacket, his knife was still there. All he had on him at the moment unfortunately, The Mages should be fine on their own though. He waited for Noor to address Frank's question, he was quite interested himself. | Name: Cyrus “Cy” Samuels
Appearance:
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Race: Werewolf
Biography: Cyrus was born to one of the last traditional werewolf packs in the world, a clan spread through most of Australia. The pack operated somewhat like a mafia, wiping out individuals who threatened their interests and living a life of general luxury, in spite of their lack of morals. Cyrus was raised to hate humanity, consider them as merely prey and incapable of any “wolf-like” virtues such as honor or cunning. As he grew up in the pack, he was taught to fight from a very young age. He was born during a time when there had been a large amount of new pups and so to keep the population down they were to fight in a ring for the amusement of the pack. Being one of the few to make it out of the deathmatches when he was only five years old, he was considered to be a promising young wolf who would do excellent work for the pack.
For the next six years he was taught many things, how to use human made weapons like guns and knives, as well as his natural tools to intimidate, assault, and kill humans as well as some other Supernaturals such as vampires. Despite the wide ranging power of the pack, they had many enemies, and several exiled members as well as Supernatural vigilantes conspired with the police force to wipe them out once and for all. A special forces raid was ultimately decided to break it up, though it was kept very under the table with the Australian government and for the most part the vigilantes did the fighting. Thirty-one Werewolves were killed that day, though the public only knew it as a raid on a crime ring.
Within the chaos, a young Cyrus, using his werewolf cunning, devised a way to survive. Keeping himself in his human form, he took a knife and pinned himself to a wall by the hands, when the vigilantes came in, he claimed to be a human child that the pack had taken captive. Despite knowing something suspicious was up, he was let go and put for adoption. He was a good actor, and lived out the rest of his childhood and teenage years in relative peace. Other than those few full moon nights where he always seemed to go missing.
At 18 he got a letter delivered specifically to him, it was one of the bounty hunters who had been responsible for wrecking his family. Inside it merely said “I know what you are kid, but you've behaved well, I can't believe you are as bad as those who raised you. So go to Blackbury, it's a city in England that's very friendly to our kind, you can find work that suits your... 'talents.' Should you wish.”
Cyrus said goodbye to his foster parents and left for England with what meager money they could scrape up. Immediately upon arrival, he received a very warm welcome, he was invited to come to a certain club, and was offered a job that he would “enjoy.”
Underworld seemed nice enough, the owner was remarkably personable for a Vampire, and even offered to let Cyrus stay in one of the back rooms of the bar while he got on his feet in the new city. Bounty hunting was an exhilarating job that Cyrus came to love. And after 6 years he has become one of the most established hunters of the dark in all of Blackbury.
Personality: Cyrus is, contrary to his upbringing, kind and with a sense of justice. His early experiences forever put him against his own species, he for a long time considered most werewolves to be vicious monsters like his family was, and has only recently come to rectify this attitude. He tries to treat all races with respect and dignity, as well as remaining humble about himself.
Weaponry: Cyrus was trained with all manner of lethal tools but was particularly trained with concealable ones. As a result, he carries knives and handguns. He has a large personal collection of both and all sorts of modifications, as well as connections with black market arms dealers. (Supernaturals skirt the law and can get away with a lot, even gun control laws in England)
Possessions: His own weapon collection, magically enchanted clothes that will remain whole when he shapeshifts, a sizable amount of saved money.
Theme Song: I'm My Own Master Now
Miscellaneous: |
8,143 | 218 | 22 | 1,069 | 661 | Looking vaguely between the two mages, one young and one old, Noor had to give it a bit of a think. "Well," she said at length, "ordinarily the kid would be right. Most of the cases I work do not involve intact heads, as when supernaturals kill each other, it tends to be... messy, and the body parts are heavily damaged. The human murders in this case are no exception, and it would be a chore to retrieve their bodies anyway." She smiled at Frank, thinking about the luck she had to have someone like him on this case. "But not all of the bodies are useless. Whoever the culprits were, they wanted to send a clear message with the final murder. The mage. They wanted to make sure everyone knew who she was. So, her body was drained of blood, but she still has her head, probably with only limited brain damage... A head you could use."
The Constable took Frank by the arm, and lead him away from the others, to at least have the illusion of a bit of privacy. "To be honest, though, I haven't met a friendly necromancer in a very long time. We may have more to talk about, even after this case is done. Have you ever worked as a Medical Examiner? It beats bounty hunting, believe me. I can promise a warm bed (or a cold one, if you're into that), food, time and materials to work on whatever experiments you wish, and in return, you help me catch bad guys, just like you are now. In a little while, we'll be heading to my morgue, so you'll get a chance to check out my facilities and all that. What do you say? Oh, and I guess I'll need your name, as well. Heh, can't just call you 'the necromancer' all the time." | Name:
Noor Dhahabi, “the Constable”
Sex:
Female
Age:
A little under five-thousand years
Race:
Pacted Dragon (Gold)
Background:
“The Sheriff of Blackbury”, or in more recent years, simply “the Constable” has been a fixture of the city since its founding, having come to England around 150 years after the Pact (she originally heard of the country from a Crusader during one of the occupations of Jerusalem, and after a century, decided she could use a change of scenery). Using some of the considerable wealth she had brought from the Holy Land, Noor lived under various assumed identities for a few hundred years, enjoying her life as a human (which was at that point quite new to her). She had never had any love of dangerous vampires, though, and when she heard rumors about the town, she traveled to it and became something of an unofficial member of the resident clan of Slayers: they would provide her with a clandestine source of meat and fruits (though they appear human, these beings internally remain dragons, and their appetites reflect this), and in return, when there was a particularly nasty or powerful vampire around, she would tag along and “draw its fire”, so to speak, allowing the Slayers more of a chance to take it by surprise. Over time, as the order lessened in influence and greater numbers of supernatural beings, including more subtle and intelligent vampires began to call Blackbury their home, Noor found herself with a new job: keeping them all alive.
Noor has seen it all, in five centuries of living in Blackbury and several millennia before, and if she was honest with herself, she’d see that it was starting to get to her. Even nigh-immortal magical beings need rest, but there’s always something, some threat she has to track down, someone she has to kill to keep the humans away from the pitchforks and torches, and no matter how tough her scales are (and by God are they tough), fight after fight with powerful supernaturals is going to take a mental toll. She’s overworked, stressed, and working on her biting cynicism, but dragons are built to endure, and she won’t be seeing her last job anytime soon.
Now, suddenly, there’s something new. Someone is attacking on both sides, and (of course), she and her "crew" are the only ones with the knowhow and the means to stop it. Some part of Noor hopes that maybe, after this job, things might go quiet. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll have a good decade or so to rest… But really, she’s not one for fanciful thoughts.
Weaponry:
At her “station”, Noor maintains a very small (but very modern) arsenal composed of surreptitiously acquired British Armed Forces weapons, such as the SA80 assault rifle, the Benelli M4 combat shotgun, and a single suppressed MAC-10 machine pistol, all with a fair amount of appropriate ammunition (including a very limited supply of silver ammunition, for use against werewolves). At her house, she also keeps many of her older weapons in good condition, just in case.
Over the centuries, Noor has utilized various and sundry personal weapons, including spears and pikes, crossbows, daggers, a heavy battle-axe (a birthday gift from Brinnie), and an impressive variety of guns, from old flintlock rifles to some of the first revolvers, all the way up to her current concealable handgun, the SIG Sauer P250 (chambered in reliable .357 SIG). It is a fairly recent acquisition, but she has centuries of experience in learning the use of new weapons, and has already mastered many of its idiosyncrasies. Though the SIG Sauer’s use in taking down werewolves is limited at best, especially without silver ammo, which is very expensive to produce in large amounts, vampires can be slowed down for a bit and mages, if distracted, can be incapacitated or killed in just a couple of shots, one if she’s lucky. In the end, she mostly carries it for comfort. Finally, when she knows werewolves are about, she slips a large silver dagger into a sheath at the bottom of her coat’s right-hand pocket. Otherwise, it stays in the car.
Other Possessions:
A pretty large collection of ancient and eclectic items from her past, including a small Babylonian idol of her mother and a massive collection of vinyl LPs, some of which are pushing 70 years old at this point. Boris put all of her music on an iPod years ago, but she still much prefers listening to them in their original form, generally only using her iPod in the car.
Theme Song:
SHAFT!
Miscellaneous:
Dragon magic is not like human magic. It is primal, having to do mostly with the fundamental energy in the world. Possible practical uses include tracking the energy of powerful mages, very limited geomancy, and temporarily regaining certain draconic traits (such as powerful vision, or the ability to breathe underwater), among others. |
8,144 | 218 | 23 | 2,660 | 275 | Frank had half a mind to smash that urn and show Henry what he was talking about, but not only was that a bad idea, because he knows better than to smash urns full of ash, but it would be a poor, yet disgusting example of what he could do. Frank remained silent as Henry mocked him, he did however gtin slightly as the boy turned white looking at the screen, he had so much to see, and he would probably be able to show him soon too.
Noor made some polite comments about him and then pulled him away from the group a bit, she was unreasonably strong for her stature, definitely not human. Frank looked at her sideways some what when she commented in him being a necromancer, he had hoped someone would get what he had meant but was no less surprised. And even moreso he was flattered, she refered to him as a nice necromancer, he had his run-ins with others before, and in truth they were not the most outgoing type. She then offered him a job as a medical examiner, it wasn't something he hadn't thought of, but being ever transient makes it difficult to get ahold of, he could hold it for a little while, he would need to think about it. "I'll consider it." Frank said shortly "And my name' Frank Mennen." | Name: Frank Mennen
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Race: Human (Magic user, Necromancy in specific.)
Biography: Frank was born in England, but spent much of his early life in a very secluded, rural Wales. Both his parents were magic users but were very secretive about it, due to their experimentation into some of the darker elements magic. When Frank was 12, the nearest village caught wind of Frank and his family, normally it wouldn't have worried them, except the village wanted them gone and had subsequently hired a pack of werewolves to attack him and his family, having anticipated this, Frank's parents managed to successfully get Frank out of the house, while his parents were murdered. Young Frank returned to house two days later, retrieved what little records his parents kept on magic and a few other things and set out on his own.
For Many years he traveled on his own, his transient life style and practice of strange and "immoral" magics disallowed him to make an permanent relationships with anyone, and due to the attack, he had and still is very wary of werewolves. Frank had more or less mastered the "art" of necromancy which at it's core was blood magic, by using his own blood or someone else blood (which is very seldom) and imbuing with magic he can briefly resurrect just about anyone or anything, this is particularly useful in obtaining information from the deceased, and one more than one occasion using bones of the dead to distract or occasionally kill would-be attackers. Due to the use of his own blood so often, Frank boasts several scars, and nicks across his hands and arms, his drug of choice to fuel his magic is cocaine and he carries a tin of it on him at all times.
Frank managed to end up in Blackbury after chasing a man who had information on his family tree, one person in particular, a great great uncle or something that taught all the other members of his family necromancy, and who is rumored to still be alive, however in the middle of the chase the man was hit by a speeding train and quite literally exploded, Frank managed to re-animate what was left of the head, but all it gave him was a garbled mess of words.
Personality: Frank is a bit anti-social, not by his own means, he just never had a chance to get the proper being around people thing done. Despite this and his strange and sometimes disgusting use of magic he's learned to fit in a crown more or less, he's often blunt to the point of being rude, but he just can't seem to help it. He has a very analytical mind, constantly surveying his surroundings and looking at the finer details of events as they unfold, This is due to constantly searching looking for every little clue that will help him figure out more about his supposed great great uncle or something. He's eager to help there is something in it for him,the reward doesn't even need to be that great, just as long as it's something to look forward to that he couldn't obtain by his own means.
Weaponry: Frank usually has a knife or two on him, mostly he uses them on himself, but there's been a time or two he's needed to use it on something other than his arm or hand.
He carries a small revolver with a full cylinder of silver bullets, mostly to scare away would-be werewolf attackers.
Other Possessions: A few vials and bottles for holding blood and other bodily fluids and sometimes organs.
as well as bag of bones. Literally. He also carries a decent amount of medical supplies, mainly bandages to dress his cuts, but carries a few basic essentials as well.
Theme Song: God's away on business, Tom Waits.
Miscellaneous:
How Frank's Necromancy works; an informative guide on how to be dead:
Frank imbues blood with magic giving life to the deceased, it doesn't matter how long they've been dead, just the quantity of blood.
for the most part re-animated bodies can speak so long as the organs required for speech are still intact, as well as the brain.
Bodies that are animated are for the most part under Franks control via the magic-blood, however a dead body needs not organs or anything to be reanimated, for instance a skeleton can be reanimated, the head will fill with blood and the blood will trace the skeletons bones, and Frank will be able to have control of it until the bones are destroyed or is over fatigued by controlling it. This goes for single body parts as well, Frank can reanimate a hand or other body part and can control it for a period of time, if the body is close enough, the hand will act as though it's receiving from the brain still, allowing it to "hear" things thus allowing it to write the answers to questions. |
8,145 | 218 | 24 | 43 | 91 | Jakob was a little awestruck by the woman who introduced herself as Noor Dhahabi. At first because she seemed to have called herself a dragon - one supernatural race he wasn't aware of. He wasn't very clued in on who was who or what was what in the supernatural world in the first place given that most of his travelling was spent using his magic to find a place to sleep or finding some company. Besides, it wasn't easy finding supernaturals around Europe much less knowledge about all the different types that were lurking around in the shadows.
He noticed her moving towards the Witch with the flamboyant black hat and her eyes flashing golden. He wondered how serious she was about being a dragon, what powers she possessed, how long she would live for. Apparently she had lived for centuries already, which somehow seemed incredible although it was commonplace amongst the Vampires of the room. Maybe being able to live those centuries in the light was a bit more impressive.
However he did look quite disappointed when she revealed how all they had to work with was the destroyed Vampiric ashes and a laptop full of photos, which were probably not of much help. Jakob followed Beatrice and the others into the lounge area and took a seat. The rest of the conversation Jakob didn't pay much attention to; Frank asking to speak to some heads and Henry not doing himself any favours with overreaction. He obviously hadn't a clue about Necromancy. He noticed that Henry's eyes drifted across towards him which made him suppress a smile. For a moment Jakob considered the guy. Near enough my age. But he looks so young - not really my type. At the very least I have someone my age to talk to. Couldn't hurt. Jakob thought. He made a mental note to chat to him later when it was more appropriate. | Name: Jakob Abel
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Race: Magic-user
Biography: Jakob was born to a single-mother in a tiny village in Bavaria, Southern Germany. Unfortunately this tiny village was mostly made up of the members of an infamous Christian cult in Germany which was rumoured to be rife with child abuse and rape. It didn't help that passers by often found shrines draped with the carcasses of animals and other burnt remains, which were also rumoured to be the offerings of the cult to God.
Most of these rumours were true. But this cult wasn't always so extreme; before Jakob was born here a mysterious man arrived in the village claiming that he was sent by God to lead the villagers as God had finally recognised them as his true followers. He introduced himself as Zachiah, and demonstrated his magical abilities which he claimed were God given. As Zachiah led the cult into more extreme acts, he raped several of the women in the cult including Jakob's mother. Non-believers and all those who doubted began to go missing over the years, if they hadn't fled already.
When Jakob was a year old, Zachiah had left the village and moved on. Most likely to another gullible little village who would give him power and money. His mother Ewa was absolute in the fact that Zachiah was a messenger of God and that the rapture was nigh; she would beat Jakob and force him to work the fields and practise scripture until he became the man that Zachiah was. It was only when he was sixteen, when his magical abilities surfaced, that Jakob was finally allowed to see the darker parts of the cult beyond the church walls; the people being dragged out of their homes into the dark fields in the night and being sacrificed. The village was now under the leadership of Mathias, a once close friend of Zachiah's. Jakob became more disenchanted with the cult and their actions, but he didn't understand his magic enough to do much to help anyone. It was around this time that Jakob made his first friend outside of the church, a boy his age named Blake. He was a Canadian boy whose father had come to Germany to pursue a job opportunity, and they didn't seem to take the rumours of the village seriously.
It was over the next year that everything came together for Jakob. He practised his magic at every opportunity he could, and understood the effects it had on him. He learned the spells his father once cast, his 'miracles'. Some things he found he could perform better than others. Levitation came easy, and once he'd summoned fire once it was a breeze. His friendship with Blake grew and more and more Jakob learned that all he was taught growing up was wrong. Eventually, Jakob found himself falling in love with Blake and even told him about his powers. He took him to a remote part of the village close to the mountains and took his hands and levitated both of them high up into the trees where they had their first kiss.
A month later, Blake and his father's house was burned down in the middle of the night as they slept. Jakob was heartbroken, and it wasn't long after that the most influential cult members began to disappear, and by the time the villagers caught on that Jakob was killing them off he returned home to collect his things to flee his village. But his mother was waiting at home, determined to avenge the other members of the cult. She tried to shoot him in the chest with a hunting rifle as he arrived home, but he managed to melt the barrel before she pulled the trigger. He didn't even think about what he was doing, but moments later she was on fire.
Years passed since then, and Jakob travelled around Europe. Magic made life easier but he felt lonesome and decided he wanted to meet other magic-users, so took off towards Blackbury.
Personality: Impulsive, vengeful, reclusive, changeable, obsessive. Overall, he is damaged. At his core he wants only to be happy and have something stable.
Weaponry: N/A
Other Possessions:
Theme Song: I think the song gets across the whole 'damaged' idea.
Miscellaneous: |
8,146 | 219 | 0 | 925 | 1,132 | First Chapter: The First Meeting
Today was the inauguration of the Onshoukai and boy, was Kazuki excited, not to mention anxious.
He jumped several times in place with the same excited grin in his face, without fading away even for a second.
The classes had already ended. Hurried footsteps echoed through the hallways as the students hurried for their own clubs.
Outside in the trackfields, people could be seen running while shouting 'FIGHT-O! FIGHT-O!'.
Some others were playing football in the field nearby, and they too were shouting, 'Pass, pass! Shoot! Nice pass!'.
There was also the faint sound of people moving around with their sneakers in the gym not too far away from the fields.
The orange light of the afternoon filtered into the room, making for a relaxing tone of orange that enveloped the room. It was quiet too, and even the faintest of sounds could be made out.
Really peaceful and calm... were it not for the excitable redhead standing at the center of the room and fiddling with everything he could get his hands on.
He had some snacks, like fries and even some traditional Japanese sweets, and drinks, including soda, beer and juice, for whoever might come this way, and he nervously moved them all across the table to find just the perfect place for them.
Even if the people coming were just did it because they were curious, or even if they were only new students looking for something to pass time with, Kazuki wanted them to stay there even if it is only for the refreshments.
Unlike other clubs, he wasn't about to invite his new club members for a round of drinks, but he did have some alcohol he secretly managed to get into the school with some help of a fellow music loving professor, who was also the one making the rounds for the floor the clubroom was in.
However, the amount of alcohol he had brought with himself wasn't much. He didn't want his club members getting drunk and sloppy.
The reason for this was fairly simple and straightforward. His microphone was right in front of the table the school had given him, it should be fairly obvious for anyone joining this club because they saw the 'Music Appreciation' bit of the title.
The room had walls of a boring brown color, a gray rug, a table standing at the center and two sofas (procured by Kazuki, must be added) stacked against the wall.
It was rather simple, but that was only their clubroom, where they'd spent their lax time.
The main dish would be the Recording Room Kazuki was allowed to use for whenever they needed to practice, after making a really convincing case of how they could actually disturb the other clubs with the sound they would make.
The radio club only had activities during the morning and lunchbreaks, so the recording room was theirs from the afternoon onwards and until the campus had to close their doors, which was fairly late too (around eight or so).
He had the key for the recording room, his trusty microphone, several refreshments and a lot of free time in his hands. The perks of not having a girlfriend, perhaps.
He just hoped that everyone else also brought their instruments with themselves, so they could get to practicing right away.
"All right...! This is going to be the best band ever, I'm sure of it." He said to himself with fire in his eyes.
Now, if only people started showing up...
"Now!" He turned to the door every now and then, to see if someone actually showed up. | Name: Kazama Kazuki
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Birth Date: April 20th
Sexuality: Straight, though he's thought before he wouldn't mind trying something with a man, try and see if it's actually for him.
Major: Audio Engineering (thinking real seriously of changing majors, though. He can't handle the math)
Role: Main Vocalist
Relationships:
Current Band Members:
Sora Katsurou: He is happy to have met another person who likes metal and rock as much as he does His talent with the bass just makes it all the better. He appreciates his dedication for music and constantly asks to touch his bass guitar.
Atsuko Gekido: Kazuki is definitely surprised to have an ex-idol join his Music Appreciation Society. Still, her talent with the drums and percussions is undeniable, not to mention that even if it is produced, Kazuki still likes Idol music. He also believes she is cute (though that's a general opinion he has on most girls).
Personality: Excitable and quick to rush into things, it is hard to see this Kazuki fellow actually sitting down and waiting for the next big concert about to happen.
He's the kind of guy that, at concerts, crowdsurfs through, well, the crowds, gets to know just about everyone in the concert and may even get into a fight or two. "It's all part of the concert, dude. Either get into it or get over it." he once said as he was being carried in a stretcher out of the concert venue.
He is really hyper, loud and generally annoying with his sarcasm. For some, it is hard to see past that and he doesn't have that many friends (who are 'normal' anyway). Still, he is probably the most loyal motherf*cker you'll ever find yourself stuck with, and yes, stuck with. He can be real clingy once you become his friend.
While he does have a tendency of being uninterested of just about anything, he is pretty serious when it comes to music. He loves all genres and tunes, even the extremely artificial and produced Idol pop. Don't get him going on Babymetal, though.
Quirks: Bites his nails. He started as a kid and can't get rid of the damn habit.
Likes/Dislikes: Music, any genre, even those that sound pretty vulgar. His favorite genre is rock and metal. He has a love for an special kind of spaghetti his mom makes, family recipe./Guys who constantly tell him that 'Slipknot is not true metal' or things like that, even more so when they don't even like the genre. People that mock music in general. Spiders, can't stand those things.
Instrument: A Shure 5575 Red Microphone that he got after begging his father for it.
Talents: Really good at singing, both in English and Japanese. Really well trained ear that helps him discern different tunes in a song. Surprisingly good at sewing, since he added a lot of patches to his clothes as a teenager (he's since grown of such an habit)
Backstory: Ever since he was a kid, Kazuki has wanted to be able to sing at the front of a band. Feel the beats of the guitar to his left the loud drums behind him and the bassline to his right, but it was always the same.
Not in elementary school. The timing just wasn't right. Junior high school? It was filled with losers. High school? They were all too into idol music to care about what he was trying to do.
As he waited for the right time, he trained his voice to become an even better singer. A singer worthy of the band he wanted to start. He's rehearsed his moves for once he got up on the stage. He knows what the name of their first song should be, for the love of God.
It was finally when he was in University in his second year (about to get into his third), that he felt it was the correct time. He printed so many pamphlets that he could've covered the whole school in them, though he decided not to be so extreme (he still put up lots of them) and started announcing his newly founded Music Appreciation Society, the Onshoukai.
People that loved music like him would be eager to join... he just hoped people like that existed in the school.
Of course, he was overjoyed when his first club member came around to sign up. |
8,147 | 219 | 1 | 2,065 | 3,584 | Her instruments were swaying lightly as she walks and she couldn't help but feel excited. "What would mother think if she saw me on a stage, I wonder..."
She wanders around the building aimlessly, looking for the club room. "I wonder where it is... It was supposed to be near here.." she pokes her head inside of many empty classes and finally decides to stop and check whether or not she was even in the right area. "Yup...I am in the correct area so..."
She could see students walking quickly, obviously in a rush. She worried due to the fact that going fast was never her strong suit. She began to speed up so that she didn't cause anyone any inconveniences and to get out of the crowd.
Her instruments were banging the side of her legs as she walked with her head slightly down and her bangs falling over her face.
"Ah! I see it!" She looked forward and saw a sign with the words 'Music Appreciation' written. "Finally," she said as she sighed.
Red. She could see something red inside of the room and continued to walk forward. She noticed after a while that it was a boy around her age. She pops her head inside to see him clearly and stares at his hair for a while "How beautiful". She realizes afterwards that she said this aloud and blushes lightly but manages to shake it off quickly. "Ah..Your hair is a beautiful color... I am here to sign up for the club?" She says in a quiet voice as she smiles and sets her instruments down gently.
The room was much to her appeal. It was a small room that looked very comfortable. She hadn't been in a room like this in a long time. Her smile grew a little bit wider as she took everything in. "Ok, let's try our best this year Umi." | Name: Minae Umi
Appearance:
-the crown but she does have the flowers around her hair ^^
Her hair is very long as you can see and she only wears it down when she plays the violin. This is due to the fact that it is more comfortable this way.
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Birth Date: December 8th
Sexuality: Pansexual
Major: Computer Science and industrial engeneering
Role: Rhythmic guitarist
Personality:
Umi is very smart, kind, and generous. Her creativity, however, is very low. She is very good at realistic drawings of scenery and such. She loves to read books and learn about things that she never knew about. Most of the time she has a sweet smile plastered onto her face. No, she is not “fake” but she just loves to see others smile and get along. She is used to blending into the background and watching others have fun without her. She always tries to take care of others but never actually takes care of herself. This causes her to forget to think about herself very often. She would much rather be harassed rather than someone around her being the target. Hating someone is not something that she has really done before. Even when she was bullied she always found a way to blame herself for everything that happened.
She is very self-conscious and tries not to bother people. Also negative but tries to hide it from others.
If someone says something like “She’s the type of girl that is weird and quiet”, she will feel extremely uncomfortable since she feels like she has to live up to what others think of her.
Not exactly outgoing but is not that shy (though she will speak in a quiet voice at first). Once she gets used to someone, she will begin to open up and maybe even say “No” once in awhile but not very likely. She will smile more and actually start up more conversations with them as well as inviting them to hang out. You will notice that she acts more childish than at first and will begin to show her true colors, a girl that just wanted to be spoiled once in her life and cared for. She hates to leave people out and tries to include others.
She is very mature. She can do house chores like a mother and is almost always composed at first. You may be able to break this if you hang around her enough since the reason she is so mature is because she never actually got a chance to be spoiled. Because of this, she has almost all of her anger inside of her for more than 6 years.
She has only been angry at someone once in her life and she scared them, which caused her to stop and reflect on her actions. She will get physical if you actually manage to anger her but if you do, it will most likely have something to do with you hurting someone else around her rather than herself.
(Rest in IC)
Quirks/habits:
-She has a habit of biting her lip excessively when nervous
-Cannot stand the number 3. Loves the number 8, however.
-Pulling down her sleeves if she is wearing long sleeves (When shy or nervous but also sometimes just in general).
Will add
TBD
Her mother: She will occasionally get a phone call from her every month or so and cash set to her home. Sometimes she will get 2-3 calls.
Anime and manga
Red is her favorite color also, white
Libraries
Complimenting
Flowers (especially Gardenias)
Sweets (Not candy, sweets)
Drawing
Kind people (and energetic but mostly she just likes to love everyone)
Cats (And other animals but especially cats)
Of course, the guitar
Violin
Tennis
Writing
Reading (Obsessed with reading)
Classical literature (Or just a really good book)
To make others happy/smile
Making money
Closed doors
Children
adorable/cute things or even people
Her mother and father
Animal cruelty
Herself (Not exactly dislikes as much as has no respect for. She won't be depressing and say things like "I wish I were dead" but she will not mind if she gets hurt helping someone around her))
Compliments (I guess everyone likes them but they make her feel uncomfortable and does not believe them. If it is from her mother, however, she would be ecstatic but that does not happen often.)
Someone being alone and looking lonely
Doors that are wide open
Pressure
Being alone (Only when she is stressed or angry since she can't really handle it and may begin to have a panic attack which happens at times at her home.)
Having others have expectations for her
Classical (Mostly)
Some rock
Since she is an anime fan, she likes to listen to beautiful anime OST's and such
Instrument: Phoenix Hand Carved Electric Guitar By Rigaud Guitars. This is the beauty that she got after she saw her mother's favorite guitarist using it once.
Talents: She is excellent at math. The violin and guitar are something that she is also very good at.
Guitar playing habit: Whenever she plays the guitar she blocks out everything going around her and she ends up in a dark room with her mother. This is a habit that started the first time she played a piece correctly with no mistakes. Her mother is staring at her and telling her to do better over and over. Sometimes tears will fall down but will stop once the performance is over. This habit is something that causes her to be great at the 2 instruments that she does. Her skills on the guitar are beautiful. She loves to do classical music on her violin but is very good at playing rock music on her guitar. She can play about anything as long as you give her a sheet and a deadline to learn it. She can learn a full song in about 4 days.
Favorite guitarist: Kotaro Oshio. He is pretty much the only guitarist she listens to. Her mother was a fan of him as well.
Favorite violinist: Ikuko Kawai.
Backstory: She used to try and get attention from her parents who own a billion dollar company but gave up when her mother continued to say things like “Please. Just be quiet and sit down, OK? Mommy and daddy would always be happy then.” This is when she became used to being the outsider almost always being alone. After that, she always had this idea that it was normal for her not to get caught up in anything.
She was bullied by almost every girl in middle school and had few friends in high school (Most of them used her for money). When her father passed away, her mother worked every day and she became a superb cook because of this. Every night she would cook for hours and often forget about her own meal. Her mother almost always smiled when she ate her food and that made it worth the cuts she got on her fingers at first.
The violin was introduced to her at age 11 when she was walking home from school. She found an old but well cared for violin on the sidewalk and decided to take it home. She began to self-teach herself the violin and began to fall in love. Almost everything that she has ever done was something that she was told to do by her parents, except the violin. She got into the guitar afterward and decided to start it since she heard her mother listening to the guitar once and she looked very happy. Her dream is to put on a performance that well so that she can make her mother smile like that. She does like to play the violin more but the guitar is something that she loves very much as well. She enjoys to play it.
She has chosen to go to this university because of the fact that she saw her mother looking at a pamphlet for it and decided that is was a suitable place for her to be.
NOTES
-A way to make her angry would most likely be saying something bad about her mother. Most people know of her as just a rich lady on the top of the financial food chain.
-Works part time at a convenience store. Loves to work there since interesting people always come in and she has an easier way of talking to people she knows she will most likely never meet again.
-She currently lives in a mansion that her mother left her. She lives alone along with her butlers and maids. The mansion is about 5 stations away from the university and it takes her about 2 hours to get to the university.
-She always carries her violin and guitar with her everywhere just in case she gets the chance to practice the guitar as well as the violin.
-She loves to see "cool" people. She grew up watching all sorts of samurai movies and shows which have made her obsessed.
-Very graceful even when she plays a rock song on the guitar.
-Literally almost everything in her life that she has done has been based somewhat around her mother. (Maybe she will start thinking for herself some more?)
-If you get her drunk she will become more outgoing and happy. She becomes more clingy and will grab just about anyone to make her personal stuffed animal. Also, she may begin to talk about her father happily as well as her mother.
-Plays the violin at home for about 3 hours a day and the rest guitar and studying.
-Her only close friend she had been in elementary so other than that she has only had acquaintances. She never got the chance to go out with friends or dates.
The club has caught her attention now. The sign on the wall is standing out and calling to her. If she could practice hard and have a live concert, maybe it would catch the eye of her mother and maybe it would be... fun. "I think I am going to join".
Theme song:
Maede Hatsumi
"Why are you wasting my time as well as everyone else's? Don't you know that every time you breathe you are wasting some of the Earths precious oxygen?"
Personality: Very self-absorbed and loves it when others throw themselves at her. She fully understands how beautiful she is and how many people wants to be her and she will often use this to her advantage. She can be kind if she wants to but that rarely happens and the only person that she actually accepts to be by her side is her daughter.
Loves it when the people around her are trying to betray her and think that they have something on her for some reason. She never gets caught doing anything bad and makes sure that people have no idea what is coming at them when she hurts them.
Money is something that she worships and is always working to make more. She is an extreme workaholic.
Bio: Raised as a rich child and ended up extremely spoiled. She worked as a hitman for about 3 years (17-20) due to the fact that her father decided to toughen her up. This job did not traumatize her much but she fell in love with her father's saying "You would be lucky to meet a monster in the dark when you are alone. Meeting a human in the dark is much worse. We can be worse than any monster that you ever believed in."
At age 28, she fell in love and married another successful man and she began to work harder than ever to make the best company that they could. When her husband died and left her wth her daughter she began to work even more. Going out for social gatherings was a very frequent event and her daughter was left to tend to the house.
She expects her daughter to take over the business one day but until then she put her into a college that she found to be suitable for her.
Likes:
Manipulating people
Herself
Vulnerable people
Weapons
Her daughter
Books
The guitar
Good cooking
Money
Tennis
Dislikes:
Idiots
Self-absorbed people
Sweets
TV
Someone wasting her time
"Umi"
Currently- Deceased
Cause of death- Murdered but his family thinks that it was a car accident.
Was an extremely kind man and loved Umi very much. His love for Hatsumi was over the charts because of her charm and srprising kind parts. It was hard to get her to love him at first but after 2 years of wooing and sweeping her off her feet, she finally fell. |
8,148 | 219 | 2 | 2,641 | 474 | Shizue walked down the hallways, wearing her signature outfit, which was a dark maroon colored tuxedo, she also wore a tie that matched the color of the ribbon in her hair. Which was yellow. Shizue wanted to go into the club and impress all of the people that were present, she found that her outfit was naturally comfy to wear, with the gloves along with it. She wore dark brown loafers to match with her outfit, so that she would look presentable instead of wearing something like converses. Shizue got many gazes left and right from the people in the hallways, Shizue would look over and pierce at them with her bright green eyes, even offering a wink at the girls if she felt like it. And lastly, another noticeable feature, her dark red hair that swayed by elegantly in the hallways.
Shizue eventually arrived at the stairs that led up to the floor of the club room, she watched as people ran off to their own clubs, some of them having large smiles on their faces. Shizue couldn't help but to smile herself, as she reached the top of the stairs she walked down the hallway to see a door to a room she was looking for. The Music Appreciation Club. Shizue took a small breath in as she stood up straight, leaning her hand towards the door of the club room. Here I go. Shizue thought to herself as she opened the door as calm as possible, before walking in and closing it behind her.
Shizue walked into the room to see two other people in the room, one of them had red hair, which was a brighter color than hers, while the other one had purple hair. Shizue had started to blush slightly at the beauty of the girl in front of her, but then took a look around at the club room. She couldn't help but to notice the boring colors of the environment, with brown walls, grey rug, but other than that, she liked the look of the tables, chairs and sofas. Time to introduce myself. Shizue took a breath in before she walked forward confidently, pulling the gloves on her hands up.
"I'm here to join the club. It's a pleasure to meet you all." Shizue said as she bowed in respect to the people in front of her. | Name
Shizue Kanada
Age
19
Gender
Female
Birth Date
September 22nd
Sexuality
Homosexual
Major
Composition
Role
Main Pianist/Back-up vocals
Relationships
Sora Katsurou: N/A
Kazama Kazuki: N/A
Atsuko “Atsu” Gekido: N/A
Tamaki Kanehara: N/A
Minae Umi: N/A
Personality
Shizue is an incredibly fun loving girl, she would tell people of very strange trivia in the most random of times. Despite that, she always laughs at the end of it to signal a joke, but besides that, Shizue is a really caring young woman. Shizue would always practice singing in her spare time and find the lyrics to write down on, she would always keep them in her secret diary though, that's the only thing she wants to keep hidden. Shizue can also be very sarcastic and flirty towards everyone in the club, despite that she's only sexually attracted to girls. She would always untie her tie when she's about to flirt with someone and let it hang down, she finds it incredibly amusing to watch, but always stops before everything gets too far.
Once Shizue gets on that stage, her personality becomes slightly more serious as she plays the piano, however, Shizue becomes full of grace as she touched the keys with her fingers. She would close her eyes occasionally, so that she could only focus on the sweet sound of the melody.
"People call me a weird one. But truly, I care about all of those around me."
Quirks
Prone to play piano to represent the current atmosphere, afraid of the dark.
Likes/Dislikes
Likes: Rabbits, Yiruma, Girls (ha get it cause she's gay), Autumn, Mornings, Piano playing.
Dislikes: Spiders, nosy people, mean people, people who hate piano.
Musical Influences
YIRUMA
Ryuichi Sakamoto
Mockmoon
Kyle Landry
Instrument
YAMAHA CP4 STAGE Piano
Talents
Shizue has a talent for composing songs, she would always think of the right notes off of her head and try not to stress too much about it, if she doesn't like how it sounds, it doesn't take long for her to try again. As a pianist, she would at least have some skill in regards to playing the piano, she would always play Yiruma's songs, to remind her why she was doing this.
Backstory
Shizue was born into a well-earning family, with her being the youngest of all the siblings in the household. All of her older siblings were taught music at a young age, the majority of them learning classical music, while another was learning rock music to be out of the crowd in the family. Shizue had a decision on what to pick as a music instrument to learn, for a while, she didn't actually know which instrument she wanted to learn, that was until she looked to her TV one day. That day, Shizue's life changed forever, when she saw Yiruma, South Korean pianist, play on the piano with so much grace. Yiruma inspired Shizue to learn Piano, years went bye, and she practiced so many of Yiruma's songs. When she was ten, she decided to participate in a pianist competition to show off her skills, she wanted to be exactly like Yiruma.
Shizue played in the competition, and got first place, which gave her the happiest joy in her life. But then after she received her trophy, she collapsed onto the ground as people watched in horror. Shizue didn't remember anything much that happened afterwards, she woke up in hospital to see her mother besides her, holding Shizue's hand. At a young age, Shizue wouldn't have known on what she was diagnosed with, her family didn't have the guts to tell her. All Shizue was told was to take pills every day, and she did so, the atmosphere of the home was changed from happy to very strange. Even after her trip to the hospital, Shizue pursued her dream of being as inspiring as Yiruma, and influence people to play the piano, since music was what changed her life.
Shizue graduated high school being one of the top 50 students at the school, many music universities were trying to pull her in, but she refused every single time. "It would be boring at a university where there are just the same old people around wouldn't it?" She would say every single time to the music-oriented universities. Eventually she came across one, which seemed to be full of color at the sight, this is what made Shizue smile big like when she was young. She enrolled and got into the school, the music universities were surprised why she didn't go there instead. It didn't take long for Shizue to pick her major, she wanted to be like Yiruma so she chose Composition.
Shizue studied her hardest at the school, and successfully finished one year, but then eventually, she found herself to the Music Appreciation Club. Her adventure started there and then, her attire was always masculine, with a tie or not. It didn't take logn for Shizue to become friends with everyone, this is the reason why she wanted to come to the school, she didn't want to hear the 'My parents told me to go here to pursue music' line. She actually got to meet all of these wonderful people. Shizue would always volunteer to be pianist and back up vocals, she would even do one at a time depending on the song. Shizue can't wait to get out on the stage with her fellow band members, and make them win a competition!
Now, about her condition-
Other
Theme Song |
8,149 | 219 | 3 | 925 | 1,132 | Kazuki
When Kazuki thought he might as well go sit down and wait for them, someone actually came through the door. It was a girl with blue hair.
Really pretty, if he might add.
"What, my hair? Well, I get it a lot." With a confident smile in his face, he gave Umi a thumbs up. "And you are in the right place! I am Kazama Kazuki."
She put his hand against his chest as he introduced himself. "But then, you already knew that. I am the president of this Music Appreciation Society, or 'Onshoukai', for short. Well, president, vocalist and often times reliable senpai."
He bowed down as he went on with his introduction. "A pleasure to meet you." and just as he said that, another girl came into the room. "Ah, another one! Great!"
He bowed down again, "Welcome! To the Onshoukai! I am Kazama Kazuki." Just as he introduced himself again, he remembered something really important. "Ah."
He turned on his heel and hurried for his backpack, before producing from them a pair of club requests handed to him by the club committe... or whatever. He wasn't one to remember every single name of every single organization.
"If you wanna join, please fill this, you two." He placed both pieces of paper in the table. "You have to put your name, major, age and here in the comments section, fill it in with the kind of instrument you play. This is only the first step to becoming the best band ever!" He pumped his fist to the air as he shouted that.
"Also, help yourself to some refreshments. There's some beer, but don't tell anyone about it." He put a single finger in front of his mouth, "And don't let yourself be swayed by this boring-looking room. We can embellish it with some cool looking posters and more! And you won't believe what I got the teachers to lend me! The key to the recording room!"
The boy was so excited that the only thing stopping him from jumping up and down was the fact that it would seem extremely childish, despite the fact that he was already being childish as it was, speaking nonstop like he was. | Name: Kazama Kazuki
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Birth Date: April 20th
Sexuality: Straight, though he's thought before he wouldn't mind trying something with a man, try and see if it's actually for him.
Major: Audio Engineering (thinking real seriously of changing majors, though. He can't handle the math)
Role: Main Vocalist
Relationships:
Current Band Members:
Sora Katsurou: He is happy to have met another person who likes metal and rock as much as he does His talent with the bass just makes it all the better. He appreciates his dedication for music and constantly asks to touch his bass guitar.
Atsuko Gekido: Kazuki is definitely surprised to have an ex-idol join his Music Appreciation Society. Still, her talent with the drums and percussions is undeniable, not to mention that even if it is produced, Kazuki still likes Idol music. He also believes she is cute (though that's a general opinion he has on most girls).
Personality: Excitable and quick to rush into things, it is hard to see this Kazuki fellow actually sitting down and waiting for the next big concert about to happen.
He's the kind of guy that, at concerts, crowdsurfs through, well, the crowds, gets to know just about everyone in the concert and may even get into a fight or two. "It's all part of the concert, dude. Either get into it or get over it." he once said as he was being carried in a stretcher out of the concert venue.
He is really hyper, loud and generally annoying with his sarcasm. For some, it is hard to see past that and he doesn't have that many friends (who are 'normal' anyway). Still, he is probably the most loyal motherf*cker you'll ever find yourself stuck with, and yes, stuck with. He can be real clingy once you become his friend.
While he does have a tendency of being uninterested of just about anything, he is pretty serious when it comes to music. He loves all genres and tunes, even the extremely artificial and produced Idol pop. Don't get him going on Babymetal, though.
Quirks: Bites his nails. He started as a kid and can't get rid of the damn habit.
Likes/Dislikes: Music, any genre, even those that sound pretty vulgar. His favorite genre is rock and metal. He has a love for an special kind of spaghetti his mom makes, family recipe./Guys who constantly tell him that 'Slipknot is not true metal' or things like that, even more so when they don't even like the genre. People that mock music in general. Spiders, can't stand those things.
Instrument: A Shure 5575 Red Microphone that he got after begging his father for it.
Talents: Really good at singing, both in English and Japanese. Really well trained ear that helps him discern different tunes in a song. Surprisingly good at sewing, since he added a lot of patches to his clothes as a teenager (he's since grown of such an habit)
Backstory: Ever since he was a kid, Kazuki has wanted to be able to sing at the front of a band. Feel the beats of the guitar to his left the loud drums behind him and the bassline to his right, but it was always the same.
Not in elementary school. The timing just wasn't right. Junior high school? It was filled with losers. High school? They were all too into idol music to care about what he was trying to do.
As he waited for the right time, he trained his voice to become an even better singer. A singer worthy of the band he wanted to start. He's rehearsed his moves for once he got up on the stage. He knows what the name of their first song should be, for the love of God.
It was finally when he was in University in his second year (about to get into his third), that he felt it was the correct time. He printed so many pamphlets that he could've covered the whole school in them, though he decided not to be so extreme (he still put up lots of them) and started announcing his newly founded Music Appreciation Society, the Onshoukai.
People that loved music like him would be eager to join... he just hoped people like that existed in the school.
Of course, he was overjoyed when his first club member came around to sign up. |
8,150 | 219 | 4 | 2,363 | 319 | Tamaki stood by the doorway of the club, listening in on what was going on inside. Others had already shown up, which meant that she wouldn’t have to deal with awkward loneliness. The club president certainly had some enthusiasm, judging by the speed and volume of his chattering. That was apparent even before showing up, nobody printed out and placed that many posters around campus on a whim. That worried her a little bit, some of the most obsessive music fans had the worst taste in music.
She peeked he head in the doorway and watched the other students talk. She had seen the purple-haired girl around the engineering department’s buildings before, but they weren’t very close. Tamaki didn’t know the either of the red haired students at all, but she was able to figure out which one had founded the club by listening to the conversation.
A few moments later, Tamaki stepped all the way into the doorway. She stood there wearing her long black coat and holding her bulky briefcase that she stored her music gear and schoolwork in. She didn’t say anything, but stepped in a little closer and did her best to make a small smile. When there was a pause the conversation, she simple said “Uh, hi.” | Name: Tamaki Kanehara
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Birth Date: September 13th
Sexuality: Bisexual
Major: Electrical Engineering
Role: Composer, occasionally additional keyboardist.
Relationships: (TBD)
Personality: Tamaki is quiet and serious. She doesn’t hate conversation but likes to get to the point promptly. When she’s focused on something she can work intensely and get lost in her own world. She’s relentlessly dedicated to her idea of what good art should be and relentlessly tries new things. Her life is often solitary, and she’s been coping with depression since entering college. She’s doing her best to be more open and friendly to overcome these issues, but the process is not always easy.
Quirks: Hates the number 13, collects umbrellas
Likes/Dislikes: Likes: Experimental music, postmodern and sci-fi literature, rainstorms, tinkering.
Dislikes: Art that retreads what’s been done countless times before, small talk, close mindedness.
Charles Ives
Ryoji Ikeda
Toru Takemitsu
Iannis Xenakis
Pauline Oliveros
Ryuichi Sakamoto
Yasunao Tone
Kaija Saariaho
Julia Wolfe
Steve Reich
Oval
Autechre
Ametsub
Merzbow
John Zorn
Isao Tomita
Sun Ra
John Cage
Bela Bartok
Karlheinz Stockhausen
Elliot Carter
Eric Dolphy
Delia Derbyshire
Arnold Schoenberg
Boredoms
Aube
Instrument: A messy modular synth that she calls “the squid”, sometimes hooked up to MIDI keyboard or her laptop depending on how she’s controlling it for a given piece.
Talents: Good at repairing and modifying electronics, can also do a bit of computer coding.
Backstory: Tamaki comes from creative household, owing to the fact that both of her parents are visual artists. The trust fund set up by her grandparents ensured that they had trouble earning a living even when their art was not commercially successful. When Tamaki was born, they actively fought to keep her from being “boring” by exposing her to experimental art from an early age. As she got older, it became clear that she was far more interested in music than art. Tamaki particularly loved experimental music because of how diverse it was. She took piano lessons but never liked performing in public or spending time to practice a perfect rendition of piece. Her musical efforts became more focused on composing than performing, and she rarely shared her compositions because most people found them strange and abrasive.
Her parents disliked the traditional public school system, so Tamaki went to a smaller private school. The close-knit nature of the school meant that Tamaki had only a small circle of friends. It was there that she discovered another hobby, tinkering with electronics. She combined this with her passion for music by building and modifying effects pedals. When it came time to go to college, she decided to study electrical engineering, knowing that it would be easier to work as an engineer and make music on the side.
After entering college, Tamaki grew apart from her old friends as they went their separate ways. She spent her first two years in college in relative isolation, which wore on her as time went on. Tamaki’s depression grew worse, and she began seeing a therapist. Following the advice of her therapist, she joined the music appreciation society. So far Tamaki has done her best to fit in, even finding more appreciation for conventional music and writing some more accessible pieces. She still dislikes live performance and doesn’t consider herself a full member of the band for now, preferring to identify as a frequent collaborator. |
8,151 | 219 | 5 | 2,065 | 3,584 | Haise Umi
As she was about to say that it was nice to meet him, she could hear someone introduce themselves and turned to her. "Nice to meet you as well" she said with a smile and bowed her head for a second before lifting it up when another person came into the room. She had wonderful maroon colored hair and immediately introduced herself as a new member. She had already met two members of the club and was very excited.
Uwaaaa~ My first time joining a club..I hope it goes well.
Just as she thought that, another person came into the room. She could tell that she was a bit awkward at the time as she smiled. She knew that she had seen her around and replied quickly. “Hello. You are an electrical engineering major, no? I have seen you around there. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Minae Umi.” She gave her a sweet smile. This was all just her best attempt to make her feel a little more comfortable. She knew her major due to the fact that she loved to look around at the people around her just in case she ever needed to know. | Name: Minae Umi
Appearance:
-the crown but she does have the flowers around her hair ^^
Her hair is very long as you can see and she only wears it down when she plays the violin. This is due to the fact that it is more comfortable this way.
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Birth Date: December 8th
Sexuality: Pansexual
Major: Computer Science and industrial engeneering
Role: Rhythmic guitarist
Personality:
Umi is very smart, kind, and generous. Her creativity, however, is very low. She is very good at realistic drawings of scenery and such. She loves to read books and learn about things that she never knew about. Most of the time she has a sweet smile plastered onto her face. No, she is not “fake” but she just loves to see others smile and get along. She is used to blending into the background and watching others have fun without her. She always tries to take care of others but never actually takes care of herself. This causes her to forget to think about herself very often. She would much rather be harassed rather than someone around her being the target. Hating someone is not something that she has really done before. Even when she was bullied she always found a way to blame herself for everything that happened.
She is very self-conscious and tries not to bother people. Also negative but tries to hide it from others.
If someone says something like “She’s the type of girl that is weird and quiet”, she will feel extremely uncomfortable since she feels like she has to live up to what others think of her.
Not exactly outgoing but is not that shy (though she will speak in a quiet voice at first). Once she gets used to someone, she will begin to open up and maybe even say “No” once in awhile but not very likely. She will smile more and actually start up more conversations with them as well as inviting them to hang out. You will notice that she acts more childish than at first and will begin to show her true colors, a girl that just wanted to be spoiled once in her life and cared for. She hates to leave people out and tries to include others.
She is very mature. She can do house chores like a mother and is almost always composed at first. You may be able to break this if you hang around her enough since the reason she is so mature is because she never actually got a chance to be spoiled. Because of this, she has almost all of her anger inside of her for more than 6 years.
She has only been angry at someone once in her life and she scared them, which caused her to stop and reflect on her actions. She will get physical if you actually manage to anger her but if you do, it will most likely have something to do with you hurting someone else around her rather than herself.
(Rest in IC)
Quirks/habits:
-She has a habit of biting her lip excessively when nervous
-Cannot stand the number 3. Loves the number 8, however.
-Pulling down her sleeves if she is wearing long sleeves (When shy or nervous but also sometimes just in general).
Will add
TBD
Her mother: She will occasionally get a phone call from her every month or so and cash set to her home. Sometimes she will get 2-3 calls.
Anime and manga
Red is her favorite color also, white
Libraries
Complimenting
Flowers (especially Gardenias)
Sweets (Not candy, sweets)
Drawing
Kind people (and energetic but mostly she just likes to love everyone)
Cats (And other animals but especially cats)
Of course, the guitar
Violin
Tennis
Writing
Reading (Obsessed with reading)
Classical literature (Or just a really good book)
To make others happy/smile
Making money
Closed doors
Children
adorable/cute things or even people
Her mother and father
Animal cruelty
Herself (Not exactly dislikes as much as has no respect for. She won't be depressing and say things like "I wish I were dead" but she will not mind if she gets hurt helping someone around her))
Compliments (I guess everyone likes them but they make her feel uncomfortable and does not believe them. If it is from her mother, however, she would be ecstatic but that does not happen often.)
Someone being alone and looking lonely
Doors that are wide open
Pressure
Being alone (Only when she is stressed or angry since she can't really handle it and may begin to have a panic attack which happens at times at her home.)
Having others have expectations for her
Classical (Mostly)
Some rock
Since she is an anime fan, she likes to listen to beautiful anime OST's and such
Instrument: Phoenix Hand Carved Electric Guitar By Rigaud Guitars. This is the beauty that she got after she saw her mother's favorite guitarist using it once.
Talents: She is excellent at math. The violin and guitar are something that she is also very good at.
Guitar playing habit: Whenever she plays the guitar she blocks out everything going around her and she ends up in a dark room with her mother. This is a habit that started the first time she played a piece correctly with no mistakes. Her mother is staring at her and telling her to do better over and over. Sometimes tears will fall down but will stop once the performance is over. This habit is something that causes her to be great at the 2 instruments that she does. Her skills on the guitar are beautiful. She loves to do classical music on her violin but is very good at playing rock music on her guitar. She can play about anything as long as you give her a sheet and a deadline to learn it. She can learn a full song in about 4 days.
Favorite guitarist: Kotaro Oshio. He is pretty much the only guitarist she listens to. Her mother was a fan of him as well.
Favorite violinist: Ikuko Kawai.
Backstory: She used to try and get attention from her parents who own a billion dollar company but gave up when her mother continued to say things like “Please. Just be quiet and sit down, OK? Mommy and daddy would always be happy then.” This is when she became used to being the outsider almost always being alone. After that, she always had this idea that it was normal for her not to get caught up in anything.
She was bullied by almost every girl in middle school and had few friends in high school (Most of them used her for money). When her father passed away, her mother worked every day and she became a superb cook because of this. Every night she would cook for hours and often forget about her own meal. Her mother almost always smiled when she ate her food and that made it worth the cuts she got on her fingers at first.
The violin was introduced to her at age 11 when she was walking home from school. She found an old but well cared for violin on the sidewalk and decided to take it home. She began to self-teach herself the violin and began to fall in love. Almost everything that she has ever done was something that she was told to do by her parents, except the violin. She got into the guitar afterward and decided to start it since she heard her mother listening to the guitar once and she looked very happy. Her dream is to put on a performance that well so that she can make her mother smile like that. She does like to play the violin more but the guitar is something that she loves very much as well. She enjoys to play it.
She has chosen to go to this university because of the fact that she saw her mother looking at a pamphlet for it and decided that is was a suitable place for her to be.
NOTES
-A way to make her angry would most likely be saying something bad about her mother. Most people know of her as just a rich lady on the top of the financial food chain.
-Works part time at a convenience store. Loves to work there since interesting people always come in and she has an easier way of talking to people she knows she will most likely never meet again.
-She currently lives in a mansion that her mother left her. She lives alone along with her butlers and maids. The mansion is about 5 stations away from the university and it takes her about 2 hours to get to the university.
-She always carries her violin and guitar with her everywhere just in case she gets the chance to practice the guitar as well as the violin.
-She loves to see "cool" people. She grew up watching all sorts of samurai movies and shows which have made her obsessed.
-Very graceful even when she plays a rock song on the guitar.
-Literally almost everything in her life that she has done has been based somewhat around her mother. (Maybe she will start thinking for herself some more?)
-If you get her drunk she will become more outgoing and happy. She becomes more clingy and will grab just about anyone to make her personal stuffed animal. Also, she may begin to talk about her father happily as well as her mother.
-Plays the violin at home for about 3 hours a day and the rest guitar and studying.
-Her only close friend she had been in elementary so other than that she has only had acquaintances. She never got the chance to go out with friends or dates.
The club has caught her attention now. The sign on the wall is standing out and calling to her. If she could practice hard and have a live concert, maybe it would catch the eye of her mother and maybe it would be... fun. "I think I am going to join".
Theme song:
Maede Hatsumi
"Why are you wasting my time as well as everyone else's? Don't you know that every time you breathe you are wasting some of the Earths precious oxygen?"
Personality: Very self-absorbed and loves it when others throw themselves at her. She fully understands how beautiful she is and how many people wants to be her and she will often use this to her advantage. She can be kind if she wants to but that rarely happens and the only person that she actually accepts to be by her side is her daughter.
Loves it when the people around her are trying to betray her and think that they have something on her for some reason. She never gets caught doing anything bad and makes sure that people have no idea what is coming at them when she hurts them.
Money is something that she worships and is always working to make more. She is an extreme workaholic.
Bio: Raised as a rich child and ended up extremely spoiled. She worked as a hitman for about 3 years (17-20) due to the fact that her father decided to toughen her up. This job did not traumatize her much but she fell in love with her father's saying "You would be lucky to meet a monster in the dark when you are alone. Meeting a human in the dark is much worse. We can be worse than any monster that you ever believed in."
At age 28, she fell in love and married another successful man and she began to work harder than ever to make the best company that they could. When her husband died and left her wth her daughter she began to work even more. Going out for social gatherings was a very frequent event and her daughter was left to tend to the house.
She expects her daughter to take over the business one day but until then she put her into a college that she found to be suitable for her.
Likes:
Manipulating people
Herself
Vulnerable people
Weapons
Her daughter
Books
The guitar
Good cooking
Money
Tennis
Dislikes:
Idiots
Self-absorbed people
Sweets
TV
Someone wasting her time
"Umi"
Currently- Deceased
Cause of death- Murdered but his family thinks that it was a car accident.
Was an extremely kind man and loved Umi very much. His love for Hatsumi was over the charts because of her charm and srprising kind parts. It was hard to get her to love him at first but after 2 years of wooing and sweeping her off her feet, she finally fell. |
8,152 | 219 | 6 | 651 | 32 | Mitsuru was very good at covering the evidence, and by the time he had settled in his new environment, secured the small apartment rented by his parents, and found the quickest route to campus (28 minutes walking. 35 walking more preferably), none but his brother new that this "grand journey of self-discovery" his parents had so hastily eaten up involved him enrolling in a grand total of 1 class.
Mitsuru had enrolled himself in a single class. Deceiving his parents as he had didn't fill him with as much remorse as it would have were he not confident in the idea that this was right for her, and that her parents simply wouldn't understand. The education he intended to receive involved very little in the way of classroom lectures. Though, based on what little information he could gather about it, this music club seemed like it might reveal some of that something for which he maintained his continual search, that thing that would reveal where he and Japan overlap, and with any luck, he might find some interesting people there; almost as good, he might find some friends.
Mitsuru moved leisurely in the general direction of the club room (when it came to travel, he valued congeniality over efficiency), stopping every so often to adjust the music currently playing through his earphones, music he was currently listening to on a cassette. Although certainly not his format of choice, Mitsuro's brother Suzaku's relentless eccentricity apparently dictated that all sibling mixtapes be constructed in accordance with his ongoing expedience to make Mitsuro's "journey" bare as much resemblance as possible to a coming-of-age novel. Or maybe Suzaku just liked cassettes. Sometimes it was hard to tell. In any case the music was superb; an immaculate curation of minimal electronic tunes, 7 from Japan and 7 from America. Suzaku always took pride in his blatant symbolism, a fact Mitsuro found endlessly amusing.
When she eventually came upon the ajar door of the Onshoukai club room, Mitsuro's first glance inside very nearly destroyed his natural composure. Seeing such a drab brown room seemingly filled to the brim with hair and attire so colorful and ostentatious as to suggest utter resentment for the very concept of monochromaticity, he couldn't help but feel as he had just stepped inside a dusty gumball machine, and to a Ryoji Ikeda soundtrack no less. One of these girls even had on a tuxedo. A tuxedo! And he loved it. Despite his own nondescript loose-fitting clothing and noticeably unstyled brown hair (not to mention generally unassuming stature), Mitsuro had a great fondness for people unafraid to stand-out.
As Mitsuro's soft chuckling ceased and faded into a subtle but undeniably warm smile (something of a rarity for Mitsuro, especially amongst unfamiliar people), he gently removed his earbuds, pocketed his cassette player, and without removing his hands from his pockets and without addressing anyone in particular, let out a soft but unafraid "Hi" | Name:
Mitsuru Karnaukhov
Appearance:
Age:
20
Gender:
Gender-fluid (doesn’t really give a shit about pronouns. He/she/they/ze all fine)
Birth Date:
Dec. 1st
Sexuality:
Pansexual
Major:
Film Studies
Role:
Producer (+ various fill-in positions if need be)
Instrument:
Laptop + whatever happens to be at hand (loves working in studio when one is available, uses makeshift bedroom studio when one isn’t)
Personality/Quirks (gonna keep this one relatively brief so most of it can reveal itself naturally):
-Loves music (duh)
-Generally introverted and quiet until the conversation shifts to something she’s passionate about
-Is very open-minded and has very few solidified opinions on things, but the opinions he does have are solidified as fuck
-Very hard to anger, though if you really want to, bringing up Putin is a good place to start. (probably inherited this one from daddy)
-Phobia of speed. Even being in a car going faster than 60 at the most will leave him silent and shaking.
-Closed-off to those she isn’t really close to. Will appear cold and reserved to most but those who know her know Mitsuro as vibrant and emotional when she’s comfortable appearing that way (very good at concealing it when she isn’t)
-Laughs at things that almost nobody finds funny, and rarely laughs at much else
-Very close to brother, with whom he is in fairly frequent contact via email and whatnot
-Is extremely kind and empathetic towards the few people he is truly close to
-Thinks institutionalized musical education run’s contrary to his philosophies on how music is meant to be appreciated, and so majoring in film studies simply so he doesn’t have to go undeclared (and because he likes watching movies)
Talents:
Mitsuro has a fantastic ear for music. If he hears a song in his head and he’s with a competent musician, chances are before long the two of them will have worked out something wonderful. Can take a good song and know how to make it better, either to himself or the public at large. Although himself not very good at actually playing instruments, he knows how music works at a gut level, making him very valuable as a producer. Can also play quite a few instruments at fairly basic levels if an extra player or a fill-in is ever needed in the studio if it’s not too tricky a part. Speaks fluent Japanese and English and passable Russian.
Favorite Musicians Include:
Albert Ayler
Dmitri Shostakovich
Igor Stravinsky
Galina Ustvolskaya
Isao Tomita
Keiji Haino
Fushitsusha
Susumu Yokata
DJ Krush
DJ Shadow
DJ Vadim
Wu-Tang Clan
Jacks
Yellow Magic Orchestra
Auktyon
Aquarium
Leonid Fedorov
Alexander Scriabin
Christian Zanesi
Luc Ferrari
Can
Miles Davis
Edgard Varese
Sofia Gubaidulina
György Ligeti
Harry Partch
Tolerance
Antipop Consortium
Basic Channel
Monolake
Boards of Canada
The Books
Digable Planets
Freestyle Fellowship
Ultramagnetic MCs
John Zorn
John Coltrane
Alice Coltrane
Masahiko Satoh
Borbetomagus
Peter Brötzmann
Ryoji Ikeda
BACKSTORY:
When the Berlin Wall fell, Mikhail Karnaukhov was among the first men to find reason to leave, even if only for a moment. Being top in his field as a highly regarded educator of Russian history, (not to mention his wealth of firsthand experience), it was not hard for Mikhail to find some University outside of the newly redefined Russian borders that would gladly pay a healthy sum for him to speak on his research and experiences. Hokkaido University almost immediately showed interest in what Mikhail had to offer, and so within days he left for Japan. Here he met Azumi Ametsushi. Azumi created ceramics from within a studio she owned not far from Mikhail’s hotel. He didn’t know why at first, but something drew his from existing across all the multitudes of cultural newnesses of these streets he had before only seen in books, and directed him towards the window of one small shop in which a collection of seemingly modest pottery was on display. He shuffled through the congestion of pedestrians and began to make his way towards the display, if only to determine just why he felt so compelled to see what was there. There was something at first different, and eventually, incredible, about the ceramics he saw on display. On each pot the folds of the clay contorted and interwove themselves across a subtly blue-toned surface that seemed to consist of either three layers of blue clay waves or a single plane of sparkling azure, depending on how one decided to look. The illusion was that of flowing water, of crashing waves. The ceramics, they seemed positively alive. In rapt fascination Mikhail found himself continually turning his head at various angles just to confirm for himself that the patterns weren’t deceptive projections on his gullible perception, tricks the light would have way to play on one’s eyes to make the merely pleasant appear magnificent. As time came to prove, there was no illusion. Mikhail had already lectured, he had another day to explore Japan before he was scheduled to return home for a brief conference. Perhaps he could forego the conference entirely. He could stay a little longer.
The next 24 hours went by in the kind of lucid haze that rarely find itself experienced in one’s waking life, and at various points Mikhail did wonder if he had simply fallen into the most blissful of subconscious deceptions; he didn’t dwell on such thoughts for too long, as he feared they would wake him, and Azumi herself wanted nothing more than to share this dream with the first individual to see in her art what she felt while guiding it into existence. The first person with whom she had felt truly connected in a very long time.
He decided to stay, if only for awhile. They both inwardly and perhaps foolishly hoped that awhile would last forever.
24 hours later a group of Chechen rebels began staging attacks beyond the outskirts of Gronzy, attacks that were not successfully quelled until every nearby structure capable of collapsing had been made to do so. Among the damaged buildings, and arguably the most terribly irreparable, was the conference hall in which Mikhail was scheduled to be speaking. Mikhail told Azumi he owed her his life. This fact had nothing to do with attacks, he would lean in and whisper, not caring if she was listening, knowing that she understood. He owed her his life, and she asked only that it include her. Mikhail never returned to Russia.
Mitsuru Karnaukhov was born in late 1995, hardly 6 weeks before his parents were scheduled to make a fairly sudden move to the United States. In the years he had lived in Japan, Mikhail had discovered he had an innate and impressive capacity for understanding the inner-workings of capitalism, something he could never have known under Soviet Rule. Azumi proved to have extensive PR skills. Their entrepreneurship it seems had come to take them to the oh-so-cliché “land of opportunity”, where what began as the Karnaukhov’s small local startup was expanding internationally. Azumi may have been the most excited for the move, as a number of modern art journalists in their soon-to-be new home of southern California had expressed great interest in her artwork over the years. Their lives seemed to be pulling them, and the young Mitsuru, to the west.
A year later, Mitsuro’s first and only sibling came into the world; Suzaku was the first of the Karnaukhov-Ametsushi’s to be born in this new home, and as the two brothers grew, it almost seemed like each knew exactly where they had been born. Suzaku acclimated to the world far faster than did Mitsuro, although speaking in short fragments while Mitsuro had begun putting together relatively complex sentences, Suzaku would sprint with excitement to all that drew his interest while Mitsuro was just learning how to stand. Such trends of contrast continued as they grew, solitary Mitsuro and eccentric Suzaku, and although the two were very close, they shared little in common; what they did have in common was they both understood the odd innerworkings of the other’s psyche in the way that only a sibling could, and they both found their greatest joy in life in music, each devouring every sound they could find, sharing every esoteric discovery with each other, and ultimately trying to teach each other how to make their own. Suzaku was a fast learner, and by age 17 could play a variety of instruments with startling proficiency. Mitsuro spoke of music with as much passion (and with far more eleoquence, when he chose) as Suzaku, but could not seem to perform it himself at any level beyond the basic. He could passably play almost any instrument that Suzaku could, but found it impossible to master any of them. He always knew exactly what he wanted the music to sound like, and if he described it to Suzaku he could hear his vision coming into reality, and he was for a moment happy that this was possible and then immediately distraught that it could not come from himself. Although Suzaku was more than happy to perform Mitsuro’s ideas, his inability to do so himself would be a source of great vexation for him for much time to come.
As Mitsuro continued to grow he found himself more and more interested in this idea that while his brother was born an American, he was not. By the time he started American college he had determined that he was just as curious about his own Japanese roots as he was the nature of his own gender. His (and now acceptably her) family was supportive of both endeavors. As Mitsuro’s idea of who they were as a person as far as his personality, interests, sexuality, and gender were concerned, he wanted to understand more about what his heritage meant to him, specifically that on his mother’s side. And so with his parents’ blessing (and money), after two years of American college, he moved on his own to Japan, and enrolled at 20 in in Tokyo. Mitsuro wanted to know what it meant to be Japanese, but even more than that he wanted to really know what it meant to be Mitsuro. He needed to find something here to latch onto, something that he already knew was an integral part to who he was, before he could begin to understand more. Before long, word of a music club on campus found its way to Mitsuro’s ears…
Relationships:
Suzaku Karnaukhov:
Brother, with whom Mitsuro is closer than anyone. Probably the only one that really gets how Mitsuro thinks. He’s one hell of an eccentric bastard and has been known to perform with his band by slingshotting pebbles into a gong on the other side of the stage.
Mikhail & Azumi Karnaukhov:
His parents. Although not as close as his is to his brother, they still maintain somewhat regular contact, and their relationship is all well and good.
Other People TBD |
8,153 | 220 | 0 | 94 | 147 | The Consortium:
Howl of the Yellow King Disciples
*press play before reading*
Prologue: The Smile of a Childless Heir
600 Years Ago...
Cold was the night, vanquishing the sun and all of its hopeful rays upon a lone, ivory castle. The tired eyes of a weary man stared into the fire pit of his chambers. Oh, how he desired a moment's respite from the madness that possessed him! Every sound was a nuisance to his psyche. The floorboards groaned like yawning hell hounds. The wind echoed through the halls of his kingdom like whispering sirens, murmuring into the darkness of his mind. But above all, an unmistakable noise kept clawing at him. It was distant... muffled, like a feint heartbeat. The man cupped his ears, desperately trying to block it out.
"I beg you, please...STOP!!!" Silence came as demanded, and for a moment, he felt the grace of normalcy once more.
Ahhhhhhhhh...
Ahhh...
Ah...
He clenched his teeth and violently shook his hands. He kicked and screamed, then leaped off of his oaken chair toward the double-doors. He forced them open with all of his might as the flames from the pit bellowed, casting his eerie shadow down the corridor. His boots clanked against the stone floor in a frenzied panic. The castle that was his, a monument to his reign, was a building that he once knew like the back of his hand. But in this moment he knew nothing. All that was certain was that the noise must be dealt with. For the sake of his sanity, it must be silenced! He searched and searched, walking up and down spiral staircases, fishing for the cryptic annoyance that haunted him so. Each turn brought him deeper into a labyrinth, losing all sense of direction with each turn. That godforsaken sound was his only guide. The man began uttering nonsensical things, the language he had spoken all of his life slowly becoming indiscernible, slurred, and cluttered.
"R-rugath...Shrethh..Umayethh" The words rolled off of his tongue like oozing blood. He could feel himself losing all sense of control. Then he heard it. The sound...it was beaming now! Intense as ever, growing louder and louder. He shuffled forward like a drunken fool, hands desperately probing outward into the darkness.
Ahhhhhhhhh...
Ahhh...
Ah...
His hands felt immediate resistance, but he pushed forward, opening steel doors to find an empty room. A lantern in the corner did little to light the small area, but there was no mistaking it: whatever made that sound was here. He entered without hesitation, and as he did, the noise was no more. Silence. Absolute nothingness. Even the sounds of his boots clanking against stone cobbled floors could no longer be heard, but he stepped forward anyway until a feint silhouette came into focus. The dim lighting made the object appear like a shadow until he was just within reach. There stood a black cradle, and within it, a sleeping babe. The newborn was glowing with a radiance that contrasted with the raven painted crib it sat in. It was the most beautiful child he ever laid eyes on.
Ahhhhhhhhh...
Ahhh...
Ah...
"You're the one making all of this racket?" A wave of calm washed over him, reverting the man back to his normal self. He delicately plucked the infant with both hands and cradled it into his arms. "You're a beauty." Overwhelmed with emotion, tears began falling down his cheeks. "What is your name, little one?"
Ahhhhhhhhh...
Ahhh...
Ah...
The man frowned. That sound...no way could it have come from this child. It was asleep in his arms, cooing softly, not making the slightest disturbance. His own question played back into his mind, but the voice was not his. Its tone was much lower, menacing.
What is your name, little one?
The child's eyes shot open, revealing two sickly orbs of putrid amber.
"The Yellow King."
End of Prologue | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,154 | 220 | 1 | 94 | 147 | Chapter One: Reitz or Wrong
Location: Consortium HQ - Underground Test Floor
Winter of 454...
Deep inside the lower levels of The Consortium HQ's Testing Floor, the air is stuffier than usual. That is because the lab coat frequenters of this area are now joined by The Consortium's Investigators, old and new, for an annual gathering. The 1st year graduates have returned from their seasonal rotation, maintaining defenses beyond the well-fortified wall separating the inner and outer shells. Their expressions range from visibly dejected, to mentally preoccupied, and downright tired. Yet despite the heavy woes they've overcome, the seasoned Investigators do their best to maintain a spirited atmosphere for troop morale.
The 2nd years have also returned from duty. Many of them have just finished their 1st seasonal rotation behind the wall, experiencing the relentless chaos that lurks in the inner shell for the first time. Some of their faces are that of a startled teen, trying their best to cover the dread of fear they've experienced for the past three months. Other 2nd years have yet to rotate as they've been assigned between guard duty along the wall's perimeter, and/or administration work for security check points. These investigators have a much more warm and cheerful demeanor.
In the far corner of the room, past the odd contraptions and doodads, sits a bustling saloon. A dark oak table snakes from one wall of the test facility and down to the other side. Parallel to it is a long shelf filled with all sorts of alcoholic beverages. The bartender, Carmina, works diligently to serve her patrons without skipping a beat. The bar stools are crammed with 1st and 2nd year Investigators. Some are socially interactive, while others stick to their cliques, respectfully.
The dark-skinned tank, Zuma, bellows his signature laugh. It is so loud that some of the scientist who were actually working, stopped and glared at him, then started bickering to one another as to why there was a bar installed on this floor to begin with. Like the social butterfly that Zuma is, the 1st class Investigator makes his presence known with as many of his cohorts as possible. He eventually stumbles upon Benjamin Moore, who is nearly equal in stature.
Zuma approaches him with a warm smile. "Benny!" The nickname never quite stuck, but it didn't stop Zuma from calling him that. "Good to finally see you my friend." Zuma goes on to explain his assignment, talking about how he had to lead a small unit of army soldiers deep into the inner shell. He proceeds to talk about how reckless the army men were and how they nearly got him killed. "First sight of a Mangled One, and what do they do? Shoot frantically in all directions. Almost got my head blown off. I yell, 'Stop! Don't you see my beautiful face? How could I be a Mangled One!?"
Zuma laughs at his own joke. It was interesting to see how nonchalant he was about an otherwise very dangerous situation. It was hard to tell whether or not he was putting up a front, but it was unlike Zuma to be anything but genuine when it came to expressing himself. After clearing his throat, he asks Benjamin, "So...how did your rotation go?"
Ordered by Tom Reitz.
Retrieve an inner shell citizen by the name of Elly Margret of Southfield, a supposed psychic who
may have key information regarding The Yellow King Disciples.
-If successful, you extracted her at the cost of losing Investigator Morris, your assigned partner, who sacrificed his life to stave off the Spirit Wraiths.
-If failed, Elly Margret became possessed by one of the Spirit Wraiths, who then went on to kill an entire inner shell family that was hiding in her flat before you managed to put her down. However, you were able to grab a notebook that might contain useful information.
Mako Tsujimoto sips quietly on his small cup of sake. There is something off about its flavor, but he doesn't make a fuss about it. He sits there quietly, staring at one of the intricately decorated bottles gathering dust on the shelf. Otto Von Kruger is seen in his peripheral and his eyes immediately light up. There are few men who can hold up a fascinating conversation with Mako, but he has more pressing matters to bother him with. He downs the cup of dissatisfying alcohol and clambers over to the Combat Medic/Engineer.
"Ah, Mr. Kruger! I've been looking for you." Mako wipes the smudges on the ocular lenses of his goggles. "My time spent with the 2nd years was rather tedious. Many of them need some serious training in how to handle Lantern transfers!" The Asian man preferred to skip pleasantries with Otto and got right to the point. "So, I'm quite curious so please tell me: How did your assignment go?"
Ordered by Dr. Isaacs
Retrieve The Reinhardt Journal from The Company of Invention in West-Townes. It contains specs and blueprints
on advanced weapons.
If successful, the relationship between the Inner Shell citizen contingent in West-Townes and the Consortium has dramatically worsened. On top of that, they want you dead for stealing a valuable item. This puts other Investigators stationed there at risk.
If failed, the relationship between West-Townes folk and the Consortium is strained, but still salvageable. You are still not welcome there, but you have formed a solid relationship with Lester Pots, the community's drunk whose wounds you helped patch up. | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,155 | 220 | 2 | 1,205 | 512 | Otto, looked up as he heard a chime emanate from a piece of machinery on one of his desks. The scanner wasn't quite ready for field tests yet, but seemed to be working well enough in a controlled environment. At least… Otto thought the chime was that of the scanner he'd been working on. Although with all the components that lay scattered about, it could've been one of half a dozen mechanisms that he was working on.
Then Otto heard Tsujimoto call out to him. He tore his eyes from the machinery he was working on, and fixed his lensed visage on the figure, cocking his head to one side as he did so. When he spoke his voice was modulated somewhat by the ticking and whirring gears that kept his armour running making him seem even less human than he already did. 'Tsujimoto, good… good to see you' stammered Otto somewhat indecisively. His speech was rarely very confident when matters didn't regard his expertise, and his stammer often became even more pronounced when matters hadn't entirely gone to plan. 'The… the… the mission? Oh, yes yes, it went very well actually. In and out without a hitch, though I… I'm not tempted to gggg… go back anytime soon. Those Ttttow… Townes lllllot, didn't seem too happy wiiiiith me. Seeemmmedd rather att-attched to that that bbbbook of their's. Nnnn-eeed to have a wwww-wword with the chief acc-tually waa-nntt to recommend new security arrangements for aaa-gents out that way.'
As he finished speaking Otto walked over to another of his desks covered in mechanical parts and started to pick through the pieces. He began screwing various pieces together with the tools in his engineering interface, rotating the pieces nimbly every now and then as the tools flicked, clicked and snapped around the delicate mechanisms in his hands. 'Bbbb-een meaning to speak tttt-ooo you actually.' stammered Otto to Tsujimoto without taking his eyes off of the technology in his hands. 'I—iiii've that new ch-ch-charing interface you aaaa-sked for', Otto rested the technology he was tinkering with down on his desk as he began to scan over the various desks trying to find the technology he was looking for. He scrabbled through a pile of struts, gears and wires for a second, before he fished out a small silvery plug like object and handing it to Tsujimoto. 'Hhhopefully this will ddd-o the tttt-rick. Should allllow for a much fffaster re-cccharge in the field.' | Name: Benjamin Moore
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Occupation: Mechanic
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Standing at 5'11" and weighing nearly 200 pounds, Ben is essentially built like a tank. Powerful and thickset, his physique is a testament to many long hours spent in the family machine shop. He keeps his blonde hair closely cropped and his keen blue eyes are often lost in thought.
Personality: Ben is habitually reserved, soft-spoken, and serious. He's the sort of man who believes actions speak louder than words.
Biography: Ben was born to the son of one of Aegis Luna's many engineers responsible for maintaining the city's infrastructure. Although this was good, stable work, Ben's father also ran a repair shop on the side where Ben was able to learn the basics of mechanics. Quick to learn, Ben was soon able to assist his father regularly and even handle simple jobs on his own. It was decided that he would be sent to the Luna Institute to further develop his natural talents, but the sudden death of his father and his inability to adapt to the academic environment proved too much, and he dropped out to return to the family shop for the next decade. He applied to enlist in the Consortium as soon as he was aware of the opportunity, reasoning that it was his civic duty, as there would no doubt be need for a proficient mechanic in damaged inner city regions.
Equipment:
-Energy weapon
-Lantern
-Shotgun
-Personal tools and repair kit |
8,156 | 220 | 3 | 94 | 147 | Benjamin, never a light-hearted man to begin with, had grown even more sombre over the course of his time as an investigator with the Consortium. Only a truly cold-hearted individual, however, could have remained completely unmoved in the face of Zuma's warmth and good nature, and cold-hearted, Ben was not. A smile flickered around his lips at the greeting, and it soon grew into a chuckle that accompanied Zuma's own contagious laugh as he recounted his story with great animation.
Ben's countenance grew grave again when Zuma asked about his last rotation. Along with his partner, Inspector Morris, Ben had been instructed quite suddenly to retrieve and escort a woman by the name of Elly Margaret to Consortium headquarters. She was wanted for questioning by Chief Reitz--something about her having information on the disciples of the Yellow King. He mused silently for a moment before he responded.
"We were... not entirely successful."
A crescent moon shone down wan and pallid through the scudding clouds. Deep shadows pooled in the crevices and alleys between buildings, while the flicker of the few remaining functional oil lamps anchored in odd corners lent an eerie illusion of motion to the dilapidated edifices. Except for his own footfalls and the steady trudging of Inspector Morris, the entire street was quiet as the grave. What few inhabitants who dared to remain in the inner shell knew better than to leave their homes after nightfall. Conversation was limited to the briefest exchange of essential information, and conducted in a whisper, every breath an offense to the stillness of the night.
Ben, given his way, would never have come at this hour, and ordinarily Morris would have concurred, but according to the instructions from Reitz, time was of the essence.
"They believe," Morris said quietly, referring to Reitz, and presumably Dr. Isaacs and Professor Hartwell along with him, "that this lady, one Madam Elly Margaret, knows something crucial about the Yellow King disciples. And if it's true," he continued, "you can be sure the disciples have been aware of her at least as long as we have, and will be on to her before you can say 'Bob's your uncle'."
"What could she know about them?" Ben inquired.
"It's beyond me, lad," responded Morris, "but it's said she has some sort of psychic connection. Access to another aspect of existence. And given what we've been seeing recently, I wouldn't bet against it."
Ben made no response, but grimaced slightly. He had always been wary of the supernatural, and the thought that there were those who would willingly seek it out did not sit well with him. Mankind was not meant to meddle with some things.
The pair continued in silence until they came down a side street to a run-down tenement building. It loomed large in the half-light, the darkened windows and broken glass reminiscent only of so many soulless eyes and jagged teeth.
"This is the spot," announced Morris in an undertone. "731 South Fletcher Street. Number 233. Good God, it doesn't look half abandoned, does it?"
Ben nodded in agreement, and stepped forward to try the door. It was locked, but the mechanism was familiar to him as one commonly fitted on cheaper housing in Aegis Luna, and he set to work dismantling it while Morris kept an eye on the shadowy street. In short order, the lock was disengaged. Ben put his tools away and Morris pushed the door open.
Morris made a motion to step inside, but caught himself, hesitating. They stood there for a time on the threshold. Neither had expected--well, expected anything really, it was only a tenement building. But certainly not this yawning void in front of them. The sickly light from outside barely penetrated the blackness welling just beyond the door frame. That awful hole was waiting to swallow them both, like some malevolent ancient fiend that knew no warmth nor light, only consuming them as an ocean does the flame candle, relentless and implacable. Ben felt a rising sense of vertigo, and even Morris seemed to be reeling, clutching at the low railing adjacent to the steps they stood on, and the darkness seemed to stretch, filling Ben's vision until he could feel himself disappearing, slowly dragged into the depths until--
Morris suddenly spat a curse. "Something is deceiving our senses," he whispered hoarsely, still looking unsettled. He staggered to his feet and made a motion for the door again, but fell short. Realising the truth of what he said, Ben steeled himself and plunged into the darkness, not allowing himself any further thought. Morris followed him shortly.
Inside, apart from all the tell-tale signs of disuse and neglect, there was nothing out of the ordinary. There was a small lobby, with a a lift on one side and what looked like letterboxes on the other. Ben felt the door swing shut behind him, and, turning, saw--was that a man? a glimpse of a dark figure, watching them from just behind the steps they had been standing on. The door clicked shut, latching with an ominous finality.
"We're not wanted here tonight," remarked Ben.
"Well, some party is going to be terribly put out, then," Morris rejoined, straightening his uniform and clenching his teeth, "because we're on official business. Second floor. Number 233. Let's introduce ourselves to Madam Margaret." He led the way up a flight of stairs located in a small recess just round behind the lift.
Each step creaked and groaned beneath their feet, threatening collapse with every movement. Both men had clicked on their torches, the narrow beams of light doing only little to illuminate the path ahead of them. At least the heat from the devices felt real in the middle of this nightmare they had entered into. They arrived at the second floor landing and opened a door leading out into a narrow hallway, extending to the left and right. Shining his light upon the nearest door, Ben saw the glint of numbers. 215.
"She'll be down this way," observed Morris. They walked down the hall, the threadbare carpeting only slightly muffling the slow squeaks of floorboards under unaccustomed strain. They counted off the room numbers as they went. 217, 219, 221.
"Who could possibly still want to live in this godforsaken place?" muttered Morris. Ben didn't answer. 223, 225, 227.
When he was young, Ben recalled his mother had something she would say, whenever she felt an inexplicable chill. Someone had walked over her grave, she would say, with a shudder. As they passed the last few doors, someone walked over Ben's. 229. 231. 233. Perhaps over Morris' as well, by the look of him. Nevertheless, with a quick step, he stood in front of Madam Margaret's door and rapped on it smartly.
"Open up! Police!" he called.
To their mutual astonishment, the door swung inward, silently. They stepped in.
No lights were on inside the room, but as they shone their torches round, they saw evidence of a resident. A woman's shoes lined neatly by the door. A hat on the stand. An umbrella in a basket. And there, standing still and looking out the lone window in the flat, the silhouette of a woman. Morris spoke up.
"Ah, Madam Elly Margaret. Inspectors Morris and Moore, of the Aegis Luna Consortium."
The woman made no sign she had heard them, so Morris continued.
"We've been sent by the Chief of the Consortium, Mr. Tom Reitz. You are requested to return with us to the Consortium headquarters. Chief Reitz wishes to speak with you about information you may have about the so-called Disciples of the Yellow King."
At the mention of the Yellow King, the woman turned slowly to face them.
"Madam Margaret--" Morris began, but stopped, aghast.
Whatever was standing across the room from them now was not Elly Margaret. Not any more. Her skin was pale and drawn, her smile stretched too wide. What looked like blood ran slowly from her eyes. Oh God! Her eyes! Two awful, blank orbs stared back at them from sunken sockets, betraying no hint of human consciousness. Raising its clawed hands, the horrible thing in front of them suddenly sprang with an ear-splitting shriek at Morris, bowling him over, scrabbling at his neck.
With what little time he had to react, Ben slung the shotgun from off his back into a mighty blow that sent the foul apparition sprawling into the hallway. As Morris scrambled to his feet, Ben swung the barrel up to let loose a thunderous blast that seemed to rock the building to its foundation. He wasn't quick enough. She scuttled on all fours at an unnatural speed down the hallway, like some twisting, abominable insect.
Morris, now standing again, drew his pistol and gasped between deep breaths.
"She's--She's gone. Wraith--a wraith, possessed. Too late--we're too late."
Ben gave him a moment to collect himself.
"We'll stop it," he growled, reaching for his lantern, "before it--"
He was interrupted by a shrill scream from somewhere above them. For the first time that night, true horror crossed Morris' face.
"Was that--a child?" he whispered in dread.
Without a moment's hesitation, the two tore off like madmen down the hallway toward the stairwell, climbing the narrow steps to the third floor, hearing the screams intensify, discerning, as they drew nearer other terrible, terrible sounds--
The rest of the night was something Ben had tried, unsuccessfully, to forget. Room 317. A young family. Why hadn't they evacuated? Perhaps they thought to barricade themselves in against the evil outside and outlast it. Perhaps they were simply foolhardy. It didn't matter. The father, with his throat torn out. The mother, lying in her own entrails. The child. The child! Impaled on the wall in five places, partially flayed. The child! Still alive, but only just. Still screaming. And that ghoul, arms reddened up to the elbows, ghastly grin still stretched impossibly wide across its face. Two more blasts with the shotgun, one of mercy, one of vengeance. Two more lives claimed in violence. The terror that suddenly reentered Elly's eyes as the wraith left her, its purpose fulfilled. The last, horrible, sputtering breath she tried to draw through the gaping hole in her torso. The long walk home. The shadowy figure they thought they saw watching them from the window of 317 as they left. Morris' silent weeping the entire way.
Ben exhaled deeply.
"No. Not entirely successful. However," he said, looking directly at Zuma, "we were able to retrieve a notebook from among Madam Margaret's personal effects, the contents of which seemed to interest Dr. Isaacs and Professor Hartwell. It is currently in their possession for examination at their convenience."
"With any luck," he added thoughtfully, "Madam Margaret will have recorded some of what she purportedly knew about the Yellow King disciples." | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,157 | 220 | 4 | 94 | 147 | Mako listened intently to Otto Von Kruger's brief details on the mission. He smiled as the stammering Otto eventually revealed a successful endeavor in retrieving the journal. "That's excellent news! It also explains why Dr. Isaacs was so overly enthusiastic when I last saw him. The Reinhardt Journal was a bit of a missing puzzle piece of sorts for some new tech he's inventing. Splendid work, Otto!" Mako patted the man on the shoulder, who suddenly walked off toward one of his many work benches. There were all sorts of gizmos splayed about, and Otto began rummaging around for something in particular. His gloved hand revealed a silver plug. After Otto explained to him that it was a charing interface, Mako took off the goggles and inspected the item up close.
"Oh, genius!" Mako's exhilarated response caught the attention of several scientist that were within earshot. Three of them immediately paced over to the two, staring intently at the object in Mako's hand, then listened closely. "The charge time on my containment pack was starting to lag over 10 seconds. I was getting 15 second delays at one point. With spirits flying overhead and newbies fumbling about, that's 5 seconds too many."
"Heh!" Scoffed one of the scientist. It was James Kepler, one of the senior researchers that had taken over Mako's position as Dr. Isaac and Hartwell's assistant. "Don't be so hasty, Mako." His hawk-like nose pointed over to Otto as he adjusted his spectacles. Kepler was a tall and lanky man that had long bushy grey hair kept in a pony tail. "As senior assistant, I have to approve this item before it goes out on the field." Kepler said, staring at Otto's messy work benches. "Can't have Investigators thinking they can just make adjustments like they know what they're doing." The condescension in his tone was prevalent as ever. The other two scientist snickered. Kepler walked forward and swiped the plug from Mako, then handed it back to Otto. "Show me how, and if, it works."
Zuma could sense the internal dilemma within Ben. Clearly, much more transpired than what he let on, but he didn't want to pry further. Instead, he sought to look at the silver lining. "At least you've managed to get something out of it." Zuma said, referring to the notebook. "I'm sure Dr. Isaacs and Professor Hartwell will find something of value." His thoughts fell onto the enigma that was The Yellow King Disciples and shuddered. "Anything will suffice at this point."
A random 2nd year Investigator overheard Zuma and Ben's conversation. "Yall talkin bout Elly Margaret from Southfield?" He butted in. It was Gregory Stills, the youngest recent grad in The Consortium. He spent his entire Fall rotation at a security checkpoint in Northend behind a desk, filing paperwork. Being among other Investigators who've been on the frontlines is the most excitement he's had in months. "I know her! She's a diviner, right? Reads minds. Has a buncha cats." Gregory teetered over with a glass of orange juice, the only beverage Carmina was willing to pour him. He sipped at it before continuing. "She's a close family friend. Me and my sis, we used to go over to her apartment and help feed her cats when we were little. She had a voice of an angel..."
Zuma cleared his throat in an attempt to try and change the subject. While Ben didn't divulge on any details, he knew enough to surmise that this Madam Margaret didn't have a happy ending, but Gregory was oblivious to Zuma's signal - and pretty much everything else about the situation. Stills understood that things were bad in Aegis Luna, but he had no idea just how extreme the Inner Shell had become. He came from an Outer Shell community that was on the outskirts. Even with all of the info received during training, he was still green, and completely unexposed to the horrors beyond the wall.
"That family from 317 still there? Me and my sis used to visit them too. We'd take turns holding their baby, Jacob - gee he must be a big kid now - so his ma could finish doing chores around the house. His pa was a funny guy. Played the piano real nice like. Sometimes Aunt Elly would sing while he played. They'd invite everyone in their building over to listen...those were good times. Never kept in touch with any of them after we moved out into the country. Hope they're doing okay out there." | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,158 | 220 | 5 | 1,205 | 512 | The lights illuminating Otto's lenses narrowed as he looked at the scientist. The man was far too arrogant for one of his overwhelming incompetence. However, whilst the man infuriated him a measure of coherency was returned to Otto by his remarks. There were very few things that annoyed him, but somebody insulting his work was definitely on that small list.
'Of course it works you dolt' he replied, his voice modulated in such a manner as to sound authoritative, but also cold and mechanical. 'As for showing you how it works' he continued 'I'd have hoped it was obvious, but if you need it literally shoved in your face I shall oblige.'
With that Otto, flipped the small silvery device in his hand a few times, before waling over to Mako. 'This won't take more than a moment' he said to his fellow investigator, kneeling down to get at his containment packs recharger unit. Otto's tools began to whir and whine as he nimbly got to work stripping out the standard issue interface that was already starting to decay before hooking up his new one.
Standing up Otto fished in one of his many pockets drawing out his energy pistol. He pointed the weapon straight at Kepler for a moment, before taking the cover off of the weapon's charge point and plugging the new charging interface into it. The weapon suddenly surged with blue light and a humming noise began to emanate from it. Otto swiftly disconnected the weapon before looking at a clock over Kepler's shoulder. 'Hmm, it would appear I was wrong Kepler' he said, rather nonchalantly 'not 5 seconds, but 3, better than I'd expected.'
He smiled behind his mask, and let that arrogant scientist simmer for a bit. 'Now, shall I explain to you how it works, or do you think you can work it out for yourself? Honestly it's not all that complicated.'
With that Otto turned back to his various contraptions not waiting for Kepler to reply. Otto saw little point in paying courtesy to those who obviously didn't care for it. Then he remembered Mako was still there, he shook his head. 'Sorry old friend' he said turning around, 'meant to ask, how'd your mission ttttt-urn out in the end?' his stammer starting to come back now anger wasn't pushing it aside. As he waited for Mako to reply he adjusted yet another gadget taken from his desks, occasionally raising it before his left eye to check for subtle inaccuracies. | Name: Benjamin Moore
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Occupation: Mechanic
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Standing at 5'11" and weighing nearly 200 pounds, Ben is essentially built like a tank. Powerful and thickset, his physique is a testament to many long hours spent in the family machine shop. He keeps his blonde hair closely cropped and his keen blue eyes are often lost in thought.
Personality: Ben is habitually reserved, soft-spoken, and serious. He's the sort of man who believes actions speak louder than words.
Biography: Ben was born to the son of one of Aegis Luna's many engineers responsible for maintaining the city's infrastructure. Although this was good, stable work, Ben's father also ran a repair shop on the side where Ben was able to learn the basics of mechanics. Quick to learn, Ben was soon able to assist his father regularly and even handle simple jobs on his own. It was decided that he would be sent to the Luna Institute to further develop his natural talents, but the sudden death of his father and his inability to adapt to the academic environment proved too much, and he dropped out to return to the family shop for the next decade. He applied to enlist in the Consortium as soon as he was aware of the opportunity, reasoning that it was his civic duty, as there would no doubt be need for a proficient mechanic in damaged inner city regions.
Equipment:
-Energy weapon
-Lantern
-Shotgun
-Personal tools and repair kit |
8,159 | 220 | 6 | 94 | 147 | Kepler pretended to watch, more concerned about saving face, than actually observing Otto's mechanism at work. The investigator's retorts stung. They were delivered with a modulated confidence that even surprised Mako, who couldn't help grinning from ear-to-ear. The scientist was beet red as he stumbled to make a comeback, mixing in a fake cough and an awkward laugh to try and maintain some semblance of composure.
"W-well, I'll have to do some additional testing before I can approve it." Kepler uttered, trying to salvage himself in front of his cohorts, who were equally embarrassed for him. He surveyed Otto's work benches once more. "...And tidy up your work space! If you're going to pretend to be an inventor, at least act the part." Kepler marched off with the other two scientist in tow.
"Never a dull moment with you, Otto." Mako laughed. "I'd say don't worry about Mr. Kepler, but that would be redundant of me. He never learned how to climb down from his high horse ever since he took over my previous position as Dr. Isaacs and Hartwell's assistant."
Otto then asked Mako about how his rotation went, who immediately clicked his tongue and nodded disapprovingly. "I was mother hen to a couple of those 2nd years." He pointed over to the bar. "We were stationed in Eastbridge, assigned to patrol a neighborhood close to the wall in response to a couple of reports from border patrol about a Wraith sighting. There was a particular spirit brewing in those parts, an angry one. Let's just say we're all lucky to be back here in one piece." Mako tapped at his containment pack. "But thank you for the upgrade. I'll be more confident going out onto the field the next time I have to babysit." | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,160 | 220 | 7 | 1,205 | 512 | 'Aaaa-ny time' Otto replied, 'I know hhhhh-ow the standard gear can ggg-et. Sttttill better run that new tttttech by Kkkepler. He'll hhhh-ave the higher ups after us if you ddddon't. But you'll have to ex-ex-ex-scuse me my ffff-riend, I've ggggg-ot some work to finish before I gggget some sleep.'
With that he resumed his tinkering, occasionally raising the device he was working on to eye level after making minute adjustments to it. The unit was meant to replace the lenses in his helmet. Well, not both of them, just one of them he thought to himself. The new unit would provide him with a telescopic sight, not as powerful as that on a conventional rifle, but it would no doubt come in handy if he got sent on any more covert missions. Best to reconnoitre a place from a safe distance if one could he thought to himself.
After about 20 minutes of tinkering the device was about ready to install. Otto put it back down on his desk, deciding that now was not the time to try and install complex and delicate micro-clockwork machinery. No he thought now was the time to get something to eat. He peered over at the bar, the place still seemed to be bustling with people, so he decided to wonder over and get his usual evening meal, before calling it a day. | Name: Benjamin Moore
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Occupation: Mechanic
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Standing at 5'11" and weighing nearly 200 pounds, Ben is essentially built like a tank. Powerful and thickset, his physique is a testament to many long hours spent in the family machine shop. He keeps his blonde hair closely cropped and his keen blue eyes are often lost in thought.
Personality: Ben is habitually reserved, soft-spoken, and serious. He's the sort of man who believes actions speak louder than words.
Biography: Ben was born to the son of one of Aegis Luna's many engineers responsible for maintaining the city's infrastructure. Although this was good, stable work, Ben's father also ran a repair shop on the side where Ben was able to learn the basics of mechanics. Quick to learn, Ben was soon able to assist his father regularly and even handle simple jobs on his own. It was decided that he would be sent to the Luna Institute to further develop his natural talents, but the sudden death of his father and his inability to adapt to the academic environment proved too much, and he dropped out to return to the family shop for the next decade. He applied to enlist in the Consortium as soon as he was aware of the opportunity, reasoning that it was his civic duty, as there would no doubt be need for a proficient mechanic in damaged inner city regions.
Equipment:
-Energy weapon
-Lantern
-Shotgun
-Personal tools and repair kit |
8,161 | 220 | 8 | 94 | 147 | Ezekiel Walters sat in the corner of the long bar counter. In one hand was a dusty notebook while the other nursed a glass of dark bourbon on the rocks. His eyes were transfixed on the scribbled notes inside, paying no mind to the raucous transpiring around him. "Are you serious?" Carmina, the bartender groaned at the unfazed Ezekiel. She had successfully catered to the bulk of requests from her boisterous patrons and decided to reward herself with a break. The Outer Shell-born gypsy girl was unaccustomed to serving more than five people at The Consortium HQ, whose establishment had two bars total: This oddly placed saloon in the basement level, and the more polished bar in the ballroom the 1st floor. The crowd was beginning to overwhelm her and she needed a momentary distraction. She leaned over the table in an attempt to peak at Ezekiel's reading material. "It's your day off and you're spending it with your face stuck inside some poor sap's diary?"
"Unfortunately Miss Carmina, time is not a luxury I can afford." Ezekiel's low-toned southern drawl was more filled with indifference than condescension or annoyance. His blue eyes zigzagged like two snowflakes, synchronously floating across pages without eliciting any sort of emotion or reaction.
"You and me both, Bones." Carmina shook her head as she glanced off to the side. A growing number of hand gestures were respectfully trying to grab her attention at the other end of the bar. "Hold your horses!" She sighed, peeling herself away from the counter top. "Try not to work too damn hard, you hear?" Carmina waited for a response, then rolled her eyes when she realized that it was pointless. She stomped over toward customers more deserving of her affection, letting Ezekiel be.
"You're quite the ladies man." A female voice called out from behind. "Are you always this charming?" Ezekiel easily identified the owner's rich accent dripping with sarcasm.
"Only when it matters, Latika." He grinned. Ezekiel finally set his notebook down and turned to face a brown-skinned woman. A silver jeweled accessory was placed perfectly on her forehead, contrasting with her emerald color eyes. She smiled mischievously as she plopped down on the bar stool next to him. Latika was a second year graduate that came out of graduation swinging for the fences. She holds the record for most captured Wraiths at a whopping 30. Her success brewed quite a bit of jealously from most of her contemporaries, but in the grand scheme of things, she could care less about what anyone thought. Restoring Aegis Luna back to normalcy was all that mattered in her eyes.
"So, I see you're still alive." Ezekiel muttered.
"As are you." She nodded, eyeing his drink now diluted with melted ice. "What were you reading?"
"Just a piece of an ongoing case I never closed." He glanced at the ragged cover then back at Latika. Before she could pry any further, the double door entrance of the Testing Floor swung open. Tom Reitz, Dr. Isaacs, and Professor Hartwell entered the area, causing everyone to immediately straighten up and stand at attention. | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,162 | 220 | 9 | 94 | 147 | As Gregory chattered on, Ben simply looked worn out. He appreciated Zuma's attempt to deflect the questions, but with a subtle gesture, signalled that he would be all right. "What is your name?" he said, turning towards Gregory.
"Gregory Stills, Investigator, second class," said Gregory, drawing himself up in pride.
"Gregory, Elly Margaret is dead, along with Jacob and his parents," Ben said firmly, but not unsympathetically.
Gregory's eyes widened in shock, and his mouth hung open.
"I'm sorry. I don't like to be the bearer of bad news," Ben continued. "There was nothing we could do. Inspector Morris and I were on assignment the night they died, but we arrived too late."
Gregory's face still showed his horrified disbelief. "Dead...? But... why? How?" he stammered.
"Through no fault of their own." He hesitated for a moment, and crouched down, laying a massive hand gently on Gregory's shoulder. There was a sudden intensity in his gaze as he met Gregory's eyes. "Listen to me closely, Gregory," he began. "There is evil in the inner shell. Great evil. It's the sort of evil I'm afraid simple folk, like you or me, can't understand. It consumes the lives it touches, even those of people you know and love. Until now, it might have seemed distant, something that affects only strangers, but you must understand! Friends, family, neighbours, no one is safe in that city.
"That's why we're here. All of us. People like Dr. Isaacs and Professor Hartwell who can understand, and can teach us how to fight it. People like Tom Reitz, who have the skills to make that fight effective. And," he said, standing and growing slightly more animated, "people like you and me, or Zuma, or Morris or Krueger or Bones or any one of these investigators who are willing to lay down their lives for the sake of that same fight!"
"Don't ever forget it." He paused, and sighed. "Because, for people like Elly and Jacob, we're all they have."
Gregory stared at the floor.
Ben clapped him on the shoulder. "Come now, we haven't lost everything yet. And we certainly can't have you lose your spirits. Let's see if we can't convince Carmina to serve you something a little more invigorating than that fruit juice."
As he began guiding Gregory toward the bar, however, they were interrupted by a stir at the arrival of Dr. Isaacs, Professor Hartwell, and Tom Reitz. | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,163 | 220 | 10 | 94 | 147 | Tom Reitz motioned ahead of Isaacs and Hartwell to stand in the middle of the large room. "Gather around!" He barked, hands on his hips. The 48 year old mustachioed man had the chiseled frame of a bodybuilder, accentuated by a slimming blue overcoat and tailored black slacks. Investigators and scientists stopped whatever they were doing and formed a circle around the three men. James Kepler rushed over to Dr. Isaacs like a whipped pup. Brief words were exchanged before the assistant hurried off toward the double doors and disappeared from sight. Soft murmurs, and even some giggles-no doubt exacerbated from the libations had- bounced around the naked cement walls. Reitz stepped forward. He sternly peered into everyone's souls and waited until there was complete silence.
"This fall rotation was a tough one," He began, pacing back and forth as he stared off into the distance. "While we've successfully managed to relocate over 10,000 Inner Shell civilians into our borders, the creatures we're encountering are getting braver by the day." Tom momentarily stopped mid-stride, clenching his teeth. "Let me break those numbers down, people." Mr. Reitz' tone grew harsh and irritable. "Out of the 50 Investigators whom graduated the first year of 453, only seven are left active. Out of the 40 Investigators that graduated the 2nd year, only twenty-three of you remain."
"Sixty." Tom said flatly. "Sixty of us are either dead, or rotting in a hospital, or locked away in a padded cell at Atrius Asylum. Do you know what that means, Investigators?" The rhetorical question was layered with a tinge of anger. "It means if we continue at this rate we won't survive the next winter."
Professor Hartwell coughed, stepping forward to join Tom. "Fortunately, we've been able to replenish our ranks with some great potentials." He glanced back at Dr. Isaacs, who then gestured over to James Kepler. He had been waiting behind the double doors, looking through the small crack between them in anticipation for Isaac's signal. Kepler pushed the doors wide open, and as he did, a line of people in dark grey uniforms entered the Test Floor. The circle of investigators and scientists made room for twenty individuals. They lined up behind Dr. Isaacs without saying a word.
Tom looked at each of them with pride. "These are new recruits. They're green, but we've put them through rigorous training."
A feint giggle was heard and Tom immediately snapped to its attention. "Who laughed?" The tension within the room grew heavy by the second as everyone looked around in bewilderment. Nobody fessed up. Mr. Reitz became absolutely livid. "This is no laughing matter! Do you all think this is some sort of game!? Have the decency to step forward you coward!" It came again, except this time it was more drawn out and eerily menacing. It sounded strained and low, like a growling hound ready to bark. "Who's laughing!?" Tom snarled.
"...The Yellow King..."
The air in the room went cold. The double-doors slammed shut. Every Consortium member in the Testing Floor scrambled to draw some form of weapon as they assessed the situation. Many of the new recruits fled to where they could hide. All but five. They stood like drunken fools, flailing uncontrollably as they formed some kind of phalanx at the center of the room. Dr. Isaacs and Professor Hartwell, still in disbelief, trembled backward. Tom Reitz stood shocked, mouth agape.
"How...how did they get past the border...how did you get in he-"
"Rugath" Two of the five called out.
"Shreth" The other two hissed.
The last who was in the middle of the wicked formation tilted her head into an impossible angle. Her mouth stretched out into a twisted grimace. "Umayeth!!!"
The loud crack of bones and shredding sinew harmonized with their agonizing screams. Flesh was torn asunder, and the blood and meat that covered their bodies oozed red, green, and purple colored tar.
"Spirit Wraiths!" Dr. Isaacs shouted. "Capture them quickly, or they'll kill us all!"
Two red spirits angrily make their way towards Dr. Isaacs and Professor Hartwell, who are caught completely off-guard and ill-equipped to fend for themselves. Two 2nd year investigators try to shoot them with firearms. Their bullets whiz through the wraiths and accidentally wound another inspector. The Wraiths inch toward the various tools scattered about work benches, ready to possess them in order to bludgeon and stab Isaacs and Hartwell.
The green paired wraiths angrily shriek into the crowd. One looks to possess Carmina, the bartender. The other is within inches of possessing Gregory Stills.
Even though she is alone, she is the most powerful of the five, as she is the only one that can make physical contact in this realm - something never done before. This purple wraith is currently engaged in battle with Tom Reitz and Mako Tsujimoto. | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,164 | 220 | 11 | 94 | 147 | Almost instinctively, Ben lifted Gregory by his backpack away from the reach of the wraith and bodily hefted him towards the far corner of the room, out of harms way. There would be time for courtesy and subtlety later. The wraith now turned its attention to him. Heart pounding and mind racing furiously, Ben slowly backed away. He'd faced wraiths previously, of course, but he had always been thoroughly prepared before venturing into the Inner Shell. Constantly vigilant, ever on guard. He'd never dreamed they would be able to mount an attack here, in the Consortium headquarters in broad daylight!
The menace came closer, its sickly greenish hue evincing a primal revulsion in him. If only he had his lantern! But it, along with his other equipment was in some inconspicuous corner of the room, where he'd deposited it on entering. There too, was his hulking, back-mounted energy gun. That ill-understood Energy... it was, so far, the only thing they knew of (or that Isaacs and Hartwell had discovered) capable of disrupting these evil spirits. He reached over to a piece of laboratory equipment with a tell-tale blue glow radiating from various apertures. Tearing it from its frame, he hurled it straight through the abomination in front of him. A dangerous gambit, but perhaps one that would buy enough time to retrieve his lantern. | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,165 | 220 | 12 | 244 | 25 | Late. Late again.
Hayley was going to be late for her own funeral at the rate she was going. The meeting had been written down on her mental calendar but damn the tunnel vision she got while working on things. The stairs were nearly given a sacrifice from her face a few times with how much she was rushing, thankfully catching the handrail before she ate it.
It was the increasingly louder screams that hurried her down to the basement levels, fearing the worst but hoping it was just rowdy second years. The red coat came away, left on the last landing before she came to the double doors, the inexplicably cold doorknobs to the double doors were a telltale sign. Heart dropping into her stomach she rammed her shoulder against the door, forcing it open and stumbling into the testing floor chamber.
The chaos ensuing was taken in, all of it far beyond any of her expectations. This place was supposed to be safe. In quick observation she saw the one going after Reitz, two after Isaacs and Hartwell, and two tearing into the general populace. Snap decision made she started to barrel through the panicked crowd to the middle of the room, grabbing people by whatever limb she could get her hands on to throw them towards the door she just came through.
No words were said, there was no point trying to yell above all the noise of those being ripped apart or being down right cowards. All she had was determination, drawing the energy rifle up from it's sling, the attached lantern dangling off the back of her belt. There was only two people's lives she was concerned with and they were the founding fathers. The Consortium leader should be able to hold his own, atleast that was her deductive reasoning.
The high pitched whine of the energy charging up rung in her ears, the glow of her lantern casting blue all around her. Her aim was set on one of the two, waiting for that edge of a full charge to fire as the panicked people ran into her which only made Hayley plant her feet even more.
The second it was ready she pulled the trigger, praying to whatever gods existed that it worked. | Name: Hayley Malik
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Occupation: Teacher - Primary School
Investigator Rank: Second Class
Appearance
A mere 5’4” and 147 lbs Hayley is the epitome of what people believe is a school teacher, but beneath her high collared shirts and form fitting vests there is muscle tuned to agility. Due to the new shade of darkness over the world she has since changed out her heels and bustle skirts for belt pouches, flat soled boots, and the more versatile option of pants. And, depending on the weather, she has her floor length hooded crimson duster. As for Hayley herself her emerald green eyes compete for the category of most striking trait with the white streaks through her dark auburn hair.
Personality
There are two sides to Hayley, the one most see is the reserved and polite professional, seemingly without any end to her patience. A flower on the wall to be exact, to be overlooked and forgotten which is what she prefers. Those that truly know her can account for her sass, sharp wit, and crude behavior. She may act like a lady but it’s merely just that, an act.
Biography
Hayley is the youngest of four in the Malik family, the other three being older brothers. The Malik family comes from a long line of toymakers of all things, the shop in out edge of town having passed from generation to generation. The four were all raised the same, Hayley rumbling with her older brothers more often than not and it was a rambunctious household to say the least.
Just as expected the brothers took over the toy shop, Hayley cutting her own path to take up teaching. It was within the college years that she learned to be a lady to better conform to society, and although she didn’t get the best marks she easily won over the children during her internship. Before she knew it she graduated and had an offer to teach in the Main District which of course she took with glee.
It was only a couple of years before the Main District was overrun, Hayley taking it upon herself to help evacuate the families of her students. Within the trials of running from the Mangled Ones she came to see destruction of the normal life she had tried to build for herself. Yet seeing it all fall apart for her wasn’t the wake up call, it was the fear in the children’s eyes, the grip on her hand as she lead them to safety. As the Mangled Ones went up the clocktower she put the ink down to sign with The Consortium.
With merely a season as an investigator under her belt Hayley has never felt a stronger sense of purpose. Despite her brothers’ protests, despite her aging parents’ hearts, she goes bravely into the field hoping to secure a safe future for her former students.
Equipment:
- Energy weapon - Short Rifle Variant
- Lantern
- Sniper Rifle - 12x Scope - Mag Size 4
- 4 Smoke Bombs - Lasts 7 seconds
- Dagger - Belt Mounted Sheath |
8,166 | 220 | 13 | 94 | 147 | Bones…
The escalation of events came like a sucker punch. The anticipated powwow made a turn for the absolute worst as the Consortium’s finest were now pitted in a room full of wraiths. These weren’t the run of the mill kind of spirits they were used to dealing with either. They operated like a unit, eerily similar to that of a task force by picking targets and working cohesively. But the most terrifying revelation about this whole ordeal was that they managed to infiltrate the Outer Shell. Not only did they pass the massive wall full of anti-wraith defense mechanisms and security checkpoints, but they went a step further and walked right into the headquarters of The Consortium, undetected.
The first thing Ezekiel did was retrieve the notebook he’d been reading. He stuffed it into the breast pocket of his blazer as Latika pounced forward, running head on towards the green wraith whose sights were set on Carmina. Latika drew out a whip from her utility belt. With a click of a button, it sputtered to life with a blue aura that caught the attention of the spirit. With a flick of the wrist, the roped end of her weapon snaked around the neck of the wraith. The blue energies of the whip sent out violent shocks, sending the spectre into a frenzy.
Bones walked forward with his lantern in hand. Its design was that of a silver skull that had its mouth wide open. He held it up by the handle welded on the top of its head and pointed it at the green wraith. “Keep it steady!” Ezekiel said to Latika. It struggled about, trying to inch away from Ezekiel and his lantern, and when it went to claw at the rope bindings, Latika dialed up the charging intensity of the whip. It jolted in pain and waved its limbs frantically in frustration. Bones held the lantern firmly as the swirling energies of the device began to reverberate up his arm and through his entire body…
Two 2nd class Investigators rushed to aid Dr. Isaacs and Professor Hartwell. Unfortunately for them, they weren’t equipped with any anti-wraith weaponry. It didn’t stop them from trying. “Get behind me!” One of them called out as he unstrapped a pistol. The other Investigator had a shotgun out.
“Firearms are useless!” Dr. Isaacs cried out, but it was already too late. The shotgun boomed and the scattered pellets flecked through the advancing wraiths, piercing one of the new recruits. The rookie fell to the floor as scarlet fluid oozed out of him. One of the wraiths then hovered over a work bench full of an assortment of tools, then disappeared. Just as it did, every item that littered the flat surface rose, and then rained down on both investigators, stabbing and pelting them relentlessly until they became bloody piles of meat. Isaacs and Hartwell both stumbled onto their rears, scooting backwards and hid behind the nearest overturned desk.
“This isn’t looking good, old friend.” Professor Hartwell puffed. He glanced over the ledge of the desk to see the remaining red wraith still in its regular form, howling towards them. He flinched his eyes shut, ready to accept defeat. Seconds went by and nothing came. A surging hum of electric pressure was heard and felt. Professor Hartwell opened his eyes and saw the red wraith caught by Investigator Hayley Malik’s energy weapon! “Oh, thank the bloody makers…” Hartwell slumped back down, joining Dr. Isaacs, who was tinkering with some kind of instrument. “What are you doing?”
“Trying not to die, of course! Now keep low!” After twisting a knob and tightening a gear here and there, Dr. Isaacs slammed the instrument into the ground. It was perfect timing, because the work tools possessed by the other red wraith was upon them. The device projected a spherical shape, encapsulating both Dr. Isaacs and Professor Hartwell within its protective shield.
Clang! Krssh! Drnnngh!
The tools slammed onto the barrier like a hailstorm, but the shield remained intact. “How long will this hold!?” Professor Hartwell yelled, covering his ears with his hands from the loud noises echoing into their small space.
"We're about to find out!" Dr. Isaacs said. | Name: Ezekiel 'Bones' Walters
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Occupation: Police Detective
Investigator Rank: 1st Class
Appearance: Ezekiel is quite pale, almost sickly, (hence the affectionate nickname) but his confident stride and animated blue eyes show a man of purpose. He's rarely seen without a bowler hat that covers a slicked-back pompadour hair style, nor a three piece suit tailored to his wiry musculature. 5'10 and 175 lbs.
Personality: The Aegis Luna-born city slicker is a driven workaholic, the type of man you'd hate going against, but love to have on your side. He possesses an other worldly talent to quickly assess situations and problem solve accordingly. Sly-tongued, but not pretentious like some upper class bureaucrat; years spent working brutal cases on the force saw to that. He exudes a calm, yet predetorial-like demeanor, and is unafraid to break the rules to achieve his goals.
Biography: Ezekiel came roaring out of the police academy with top honors. He worked his way up from beat cop and was promoted to detective within a span of two years. The 53rd Precinct had jurisdiction over most of the outer shell districts of Aegis Luna. The crime activity in these parts were significantly higher than anywhere else. Ezekiel worked various cases involving drug and human trafficking, but the one he is most known for is capturing the Skin Mason. He was a bonafide serial killer, whose MO involved skinning victims alive and then draping said skin around monuments and statues across the city.
There were other obscene cases he worked, but that one always rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was that the man was later identified as Harvey Bloom, nephew to Secretary of Defense Anthony Jacobs Bloom. Ezekiel's findings on their relation was met with a lot of scrutiny by his Captain, who wanted to keep that piece of information hidden. Bones was having no part of it, as there were various pieces of evidence during the Skin Mason investigation that hinted at Anthony's involvement. Of course, before Ezekiel could investigate further, the Mangled Ones attacked Main District, putting everything on hold.
He was initially set on reenlisting into the military, but Professor Hartwell convinced him to join The Consortium. The supernatural horrors unfolding within Aegis Luna went against his entire belief system. He felt compelled to join this specialized brigade of do-gooders and put his analytical mind to use in uncovering the truth behind these strange happenings.
Equipment:
-Energy Gun - Pistol Variant
-Lantern
-Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle
-Colt Revolver
-Silver Timepiece |
8,167 | 221 | 0 | 1,106 | 327 | 🅲🆁🅰🆂🅷 🅲🅾🆄🆁🆂🅴 : 🅻🅴🆂🆂🅾🅽 🅾🅽🅴We are social creatures to the inmost center of our being. The notion that one can begin anything at all from scratch, free from the past, or be not indebted to others, could not conceivably be more wrong.
Karl Popper (1973)
Days of effort quickly turned into weeks, but everything that had needed to be settled with was done; the only thing that was left was for tomorrow to finally take place.
"Who would've thought that gathering a bunch of outcasts would be this hard?" Tumble continued to stare into the screen in front of her as she sifted through the profiles of all the children that she was going to take under her wing. She had already read their profiles over a dozen times each, but for some reason, Tumble couldn't help but repeatedly look over them.
Did most of them remind her of what she was before? Maybe she just found something that she could relate with in each one of them. There was no point in bothering about such things though; there wasn't really any clear way of finding out.
The sound of a long sigh echoed throughout Tumble's room as she turned away from her computer and began swiveling from left to right in her chair. With drink in hand, she simply starred at the star-filled night sky.
Taking several sips, the chilled whisky smoothly ran down her throat, causing her body to briefly shudder. Tumble ahhed in delight as her body loosened up and relaxed; a bit of alcohol was exactly what she needed. Turning back to her screen, she set her drink aside and resumed her work.
Her fingers were sluggish and eyes droopy. "This is definitely gonna be a long night." Tumble said in, or at least what sounded like, a drunken stupor.
The city of Musutafa and the entirety of Japan had patiently waited for this day to come. Although in no way was this event actually advertised, news of it had spread like wildfire throughout social media and immediately become viral in a matter of hours since information of it was released to the public.
What was supposed to be a small gathering with some acquaintances, associates, and maybe a few family members of the participating children, turned into a massive event that garnered not only the masses but also a significant amount of media personnel.
Flashing lights, reverberating sounds of shuttering, and a roaring crowd; this was certainly not the way they expected things to turn out. All nine of the children that had gathered in front of the hero agency, were left defenseless. | 🆀🆄🅸🆁🅺🆂A special, superhuman ability an individual can possess. Quirks are inherited genetically and typically manifest in children by the age of four, at the latest.
They are generally unique to their user, and are classified in multiple categories.
usually require a conscious effort to activate and grant its user the ability to either release certain substances, or alter materials around them in certain ways.
Blink - A limited teleportation quirk, that allows the user to move a short distances in an instant.
Solar System - The user's personal gravitational field is far stronger than normal and possess some control over it.
Radar - Allows the user to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes in a given area.
Pinball Wizard - A quirk that's loosely connected to magnetism that allows the user to attract and repel any metal object
Freeze Bomb - Allows the user to creates balls of water, that upon exploding, are capable of encasing everything around it in a layer of ice.
Gust - Grants the user the ability to blow wind out of her pores; these are also capable of sucking wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
Spin - Allows the user to spin anything they touch.
allow the user to temporarily alter their body in a variety of manners, sometimes enhancing existing features or perhaps adding new features to the body altogether.
Color Change - A quirk that bestows the user the ability to alter the color of any part of their body.
cause the user to exhibit irregular features that generally have some sort of purpose to them. Whether it be bodily alteration or enhancing preexisting abilities
Canine Aspect - Grants the user characteristics and abilities of a German Shepherd.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from the user's head that have the ability to stretch and grow, which can controlled at will.
Regeneration - The user heals much faster then an average human being.
Calculator - The user of this quirk is genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to one's senses and memory as long as the stimuli is number-related.
Stamina - The user is blessed with an insane amount of endurance, tenacity, and tolerance to pain. They barely need to any form of sustenance and can last days without sleep.
Little Dragon - A quirk that grants characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Sun Wukong/Monkey King - Users share physiology of a monkey or ape, granting them incredible strength, stamina, agility, and the ability to loud howls and yells unlike a human could.
Rubber Muscle Overcharge - A mutation in the user's muscle fibers allows them to build tension when certain movements are performed, granting them increased strength. The user would appear double jointed and almost rubbery. |
8,168 | 221 | 1 | 1,788 | 448 | One of the heroes was a odd looking one. Pale skin, pale hair, even her eyes were a misty shade of grey. Her general appearance gave a rather meek look, standing shorter than most of the other heroes.
She held at her identification cane, holding it close. She didn't like the noise, the crowd, it was way too much for her. To help clear her head and focus on something that wasn't all the noise, she counted the people in the crowd, her Radar going off. Under her breath she counted. A reporter approached her, taking a photograph as he was at it. "Can I ask you a few questions, ma'am? I'm over here." He said, hitting the fingers of his right hand against the palm of his left, trying to catch her attention.
"I'm not deaf." Shen-Mu replied, despite her foreign sounding name, her Japanese was flawless. Speaking to the man, but not looking at him. Behind, in front, or to the side, with her quirk it was all the same. "What are your questions?"
"Thank you," the reporter pulled up his camera, "Tell the folks at home about yourself."
"I paint." Shen-Mu replied, "I paint what I see without my eyes."
"Uh huh..." the reporter began to feel uneasy about the girl, looking to the crowd, not even sure how to follow up on a statement like that. | This image doesn't fully match the appearance I have in mind for her. She has shorter hair and her eyes are grey in color. Maybe a bit messier. But other than that it matches her appearance.
Shen-Mu Haumea
Female
16
Shen-Mu is quiet and soft spoken, usually only speaking if she needs to or if spoken to. When she does,she'll either say a short few words or go off on a tangent. Despite her lack of speaking, she is noticeably confident in her words and doesn't hold back her opinions on things.
Shen-Mu is the daughter of a infamous thief and a foreign woman, her foreign name being the sign of her heritage.
While her father put in the effort to raise his child from infancy to a young girl, his life of crime and her life began to cross into one another as she reached her teen years. While her body was physically weak and frail, her quirk proved to be useful to him and his colleagues, willing to take advantage of a innocent young girl. So she served as a navigator for them on their heists. Telling them wear to go, what paths were safe. It wasn't until a local hero managed to find her and took her in, resulting in the capture of her rather and his friends. Due to her age and not fully understanding what she was doing, she got the least amount of punishment among the people involved in these heists.
Now, she mostly bides her time under the supervision of a few more trustworthy individuals. Living in a boarding house. She doesn't leave the house much, unless she has someone with her. Despite her blindness, she has taken up skills in painting, mostly nature paintings.
She fantasizes that one day, she'll be useful to one or more person, someone that won't take advantage of her as her father did. She wishes that she wouldn't be seen as a mere tool but rather a person.
Radar - Radar: Despite Shen-Mu's blindness, she doesn't have an issue navigating or knowing the world around her thanks to her quirk. Her radar ability allows her to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes. As if she possessed a thousand invisible arms, reaching out and feeling the world around her. The usual range of it is about 15 meters in radius, in a dome shape around her. When she meditates and zones out, she is able to further extend the range of it.
However, the quirk isn't without its drawbacks, other than its lack of combat ability it gives her. First off, while it allows her to navigate the world without sight, things such as screens, writing, and distant objects outside of her range, she is blind to as any other blind person would be. Second, her power isn't selective with what it can sense. If there is a ton of small objects flying through the air, such as rain, heavy snowfall, smoke, dust, or other debris, it causes a sort of interference with her powers; as she calls it "white noise."
When in use, her hair and clothes hover in the air as if she is underwater and her eyes take on a sonar like appearance, although they retain their grey color.
Painting: - To the surprise of others, she picked up painting. Due to being a shut in, she had a lot of time to practice. Most of her paintings are things outside her window, painted in greys for the most part.
Enhanced senses Her hearing is rather potent, but not to the level of animal based quirks. Her hearing became more potent to compensate for her blindness.
Navigation: Her power is more useful for when she's acting as support. Able to tell people where to go or where it's safe. She prefers to stay out of combat anyways.
Shen-Mu sat in her room, surrounded by her paintings. A painting of a tree, a painting of a car, a painting of a her bedroom. Her next one was going to be of the corner outside her window. Concentrating, she focused her quirk, trying to extend its range, littel by little... Then she had it. But that wasn't the only thing she sense, there was someone just outside her door.
"Come in." she said, putting down her brush, her concentration broken. Soon, a large man stepped forward, man just about a decade older than her. From his appearance, he had some sort of insect based quirk. He could be thought of as a caretaker of sorts for her.
"I hate it when you do that." he said, holding a letter in his hand.
"I hate it when people get ready to barge into my room. Barge into it without knocking. You were going to do that weren't you?"
"...I was going to knock." He said, correcting her, his brow surrounding. Ignoring the girl's quips, he held the letter out in front of her, touching her shoulder with it so he was sure she was aware of it. "See this? You know what this is?"
To which the blind girl answered with the obvious answer. "...It's a envelope. From the size of it there is another paper in it. Could you kindly read it to me?" She said, waving her hand in front of her face, to remind her caretaker of her lack of ability to read.
"Right, sorry." The man said, taking out the note, and reading it out loud. He went into it, information about a woman who went by Tumble, a special program of sorts collecting sorts of troublemakers and misfits to become heroes, and even some info on Shen-Mu herself... As he finished the man lowered the note, staring at the young albino.
"...Listen. Shen, I know about your father, what he made you do, your little criminal record..." he said, rubbing his chin, uncertain. "I know you want to be useful to someone in the future but-"
"But what?" Shen-Mu quickly replied, picking up a small paintbrush, idly painting out a picture of the opened envelope as it sat lying on the shelf next to her. "I know you cheat on your girlfriend. The woman from the floor below? Who is she? Maybe it's the other way around?"
"Shen!" The man said, angered at the intrusion of privacy, "Don't tell anyone! It's not what you think!"
"I don't have to tell anyone." She said, having not taken her eyes off her canvas this whole conversation. "No one will know. Not either girl. On the condition that you let me go." As she finished her declaration, she finished her sketch, the envelope nicely painted out. "The blind painter. Doomed to never truly enjoy her art. Sad, isn't it, Kei?"
Kei held the letter in his hand, confused, blackmailed, and just slightly grateful at the chance to get the girl out of the house.
Her pale skin, sensitivity to the sun, and pale colored hair are all due to albinism. Her father is Japanese, but her mother isn't, because her name is Pacific East Islander in origin, it gives indication of what her heritage is. |
8,169 | 221 | 2 | 1,774 | 401 | White noise seemed to pack the space between Shouichi's ears, as he froze up completely. Flash photography and glinting lenses dazzled his round eyes. He'd lost his mother in the crowd...
Shifting awkwardly, sweat beading all over him, he suddenly became more conscious of the way his white T-shirt stretched over his round body while his mud colored slacks bit into his waist. His uneven hair dangled as bowed his head, school bag hanging from his shoulder. Already he was regretting everything. Normally he'd be sleeping so he could catch War:Zero tonight while it aired, but 'I can't miss the first day' he reasoned to himself.
I just want to leave... | Shouichi Sakihata
Male
15
Shou doesn't like to speak. Not because he has nothing to say: on the contrary, he could go for hours if it was on a favorite topic of his. But rather, because he doesn't, he's something of a stuttering mess when he does speak, even as derision is more likely to stay his tongue than shyness. His mind is a place of bitterness, where he guesses and second guesses his place and those around him, paranoia often guiding his actions and words.
Hot blooded cries for victory, metal fists bashing against each other, fires of passion burning red: Shou didn't have a clue what was going on, but the pure spirit and heart captured in the last episode of a classic mech show rerun affected Shou deeply, even when he had no context to go on. To say it changed his life wouldn't be an understatement: he'd always liked anime and manga, but in comparison, it just seemed like kid's stuff after his revelation. But as he tried to share his love, the fourth grade Shouichi was without luck. His father was always getting ready for work or too exhausted from it, his mother had a placid reaction to just about everything, and his older brother was utterly disinterested, focused on his studies. Such a boring, normal family: it was hard to imagine they all had Quirks. But in trying to introduce his classmates to his newfound interest, he was similarly rebuked. But even though he had no one to connect with, he couldn't simply stop enjoying it. The internet served as an outlet, allowing him even more exposure to the world he'd discovered, finding fans, other series... As he engrossed himself in that sphere, he was starting to find the idea of school and friends a bit overrated.
As he entered middle school, his days were spent merely wondering when he could back home, and when he was home, Shou would stay up late into the night on his computer. When his mother because impatient with his lack of interest as the two of them ate their dinner in the otherwise empty house (husband working, brother off to college), she simply started taking meals to him. And as Shou realized a strict, daily attendance wasn't mandatory as long as he kept his grades up (something he found all too easy at his local public school), and left his room even less frequently. For him it was bliss: all the media right at his fingertips, food delivered right to his door. He didn't even see her any more unless he was going to school, often timing his bathroom breaks to avoid her.
Then, as Shou entered his final year of middle school, his father pushed his way in, making a change. To Shou, it came from nowhere: had his seclusion actually bothered his parents that much? But he wasn't allowed room to argue as he was stripped of his access to their funds directly and cut off from his mother's cooking. No longer could he buy games digitally or order anime or manga: he was only allowed cash, given a bit more to account for food. "No shipping costs," his dad reasoned, adding that it was pointless for his mother to slave over home cooked meals she couldn't see be enjoyed. It was heavy handed, but Shou was too stubborn to let this affect him. He was still going to school, so forcing himself to interact with people wasn't an issue, and buying convenience store food was more of a plus in his eyes since he was no longer restricted to any schedule. Now, his nights involved trips out to spend some of his allowance, his room quickly became even more cluttered with garbage from instant meals and snacks.
It was a game, and he was winning. Never mind that he'd manipulated his schedule to avoid his parents, fearing their judging eyes. Ignore that he spent most of school past homeroom eating in bathroom stalls or sleeping in the nurse's office. Put aside the 30 pounds he gained from eating junk food unchecked. His habits were more than enough for him to get by. He could live like this forever...
Continued in Sample Post.
Blink - A limited teleportation Quirk, Shou is able to teleport a short distance in an instant, no more than five meters, and anything beyond three is pushing his embarrassing endurance to its limits. A Blink is accompanied by a light 'jerk', and the slight pops of displaced air, both as he creates a small vacuum where he once stood and as displaces the air where he appears. The 'jerk' is the light kinetic force that results from pulling himself through space, and serves as his limitations (as in, if he's up against something stronger than that force, he could be in trouble). Anything 'grabbing' him, like clothing or another person, will come along for the ride, unless the force is not that great. A leaf laying on his head has no grip, thus will hang over empty air once he's gone. Something heavy laying down on him, or someone with their hand around their throat, will no doubt come along as well. Though in some situations this might be desirable, the added weight adds strain to every Blink, regardless of whether he wants to bring it along or not. As for the point of his arrival, that light force also determines if the teleportation will be successful. Air, water, or other light fluids will be displaced around him as he appears because they are light enough to be pushed aside. This even goes for light solids like mud or leaves, but something like packed dirt or stone is to tough for him to Blink into. As a general rule of thumb, if a normal person can't run a hand through it, he can't Blink into it. And should he try, he won't appear within it, instead only going as far as the surface, bounced back as if he'd walked straight into it. Moving to the other side of something is well within his capabilities though, but if he can't see the other side he might be in for a surprise. Due to Shou's endurance, he can only teleport every ten seconds or so without getting overly winded. Rapid successions might leave him collapsed on the ground gasping for air.
In theory, further practice will not only decrease the cooldown time, but increase his range and force as well. If it is possible to change his orientation (for example, vanishing while facing one direction and appearing while facing another) then he has yet to display this potential.
Otaku Aficionado – Shou knows his way back and forth the internet domains of nerd cultures, having great depth in some very specific fields of knowledge. His general computer usage skills might lead to him finding more general information, software, or programs faster than most others on average,
That's It – Really.
Letting out a stiff yawn, Shouichi double clicked an icon, a game title screen popping up after a few moments. He beamed in pride, taking in the altered art for a few moments, having 100%ed it just earlier today. He didn't want to play right now, he just wanted to bask. After the title song finally wound down, he closed the application, before eyeing a folder on his desktop: a show he'd already watched half of, and his heart stirred as he imagined knocking out the rest of it once he awoke.
Turning off his monitor, he slipped off his chair, knocking aside a few loose food packages, before flopping onto his futon. Pulling his dakimura closer, he let the warmth encompass him. Closing his eyes, he'd never been more fulfil-
BANG BANG BANG
Hopping up, he gasped, "Wh-wh-wh-wh-what?"
The door crawled open, each creak sending a pang of fear into his heart. Looking up, he saw his father looking down at him, nose crinkling at the barrage of scents he'd no doubt just encountered. He spoke, but his voice was...blurry? Was that even possible?
"You're up early this morning: for school I hope?" he asked. Shou didn't have the energy to disappoint him. "I wanted to talk about your high school choices. You won't have to worry, I've enrolled you to an institution..." He seemed to sense Shou's fatigue. "...It's headed by a Hero named Tumble." Shou's head rocked back and forth, wobbling with his consciousness. The man let out a sigh of defeat, saying, "I'll brief you later then. Good night."
As the door closed, Shou flopped down, eyes fluttering shut, a few words passing through his brain. School... Institution... Tumble... Tumble the Hero? Very funny, Shou wasn't Hero material by a longshot. But if he were...to be sent to...
Shou shot up like a rocket. "Ehhhh?" he shuddered fearfully, sweat beading on his forehead. He gripped his body pillow tighter, which was the least heroic thing he could possibly imagine anyone doing... |
8,170 | 221 | 3 | 1,289 | 184 | While Jake was being ushered out of the car and in front of the building he saw the giant crowd in between him and the door....he wasn't good in crowds - to many people in too small a place - and before he could make a break for the door a man with a camera shoved a mic in his face and started blurting out questions. "Hey are you Satan the devil from the underground? Is it true that you can regenerate? Do you still feel pain? Did your parents really torture you? Do you remember them? Are you even human?"
Jake's face got even paler then normal as he tried to cover his ears to blank out all the incoming questions. The man waited for a few seconds for Jake's response and it finally came in a rage of answers mixed with hysterical laughter and an ear to ear grin. "SHUT UP!!!!!! YES I AM SATAN THE UNDERGROUND DEVIL!!!!! YES I CAN REGENERATE HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!! PAIN???? I AM PAIN!!!! EVERYTHING ABOUT ME IS PAIN HA HA HA HA HA!!!!! YES MY PARENTS TORTURED ME!!! THEY DID IT FOR FUN HA HA HA AND YES I REMEMBER THEM, EVERY CUT, EVERY FINGER THEY CHOPPED OFF, EVERY TIME THEY OPENED ME UP JUST TO SEE WHAT WAS INSIDE, I REMEMBER EVERY BIT OF IT AND YES....I'M...."He stared into blank space as all the emotion left his face along with the ear to ear grin and he finished his sentence with a barely more then a whisper "I am human at least I think so anyway. I'm done with this I'm gonna go find the fridge."
He walked through the crowd merely pushing his way past anyone in between him and the door and proceeded inside. | Jake "Satan" Vanguard
Male
16
Misunderstood as he is he tries to make friends but of course he's not exactly your good boy type. In most cases he's very random and crazy meaning he could go from having a full on deep conversation to admiring a cool looking rock on the ground. He gets distracted easily and his strange way of viewing things normally pushes people away. He's the type of teen that would stare death straight in the face while seriously asking if he liked cookies or brownies better. Yeah, he's not all there in the head but while common sense is low his street smarts somewhat make up for it with his sarcastic remarks. Needless to say he's wise not intelligent meaning he learns from experience not being taught by someone else or from a book. He won't learn not to stick his hand in a blender simply if you told him, he will learn when he has to make do without a couple fingers for a few weeks.
It started with a man named Roye "Pillar" Vanguard with a quirk of Stamina; meaning he hardly ever got fatigued no matter how strenuous the work (or play) was. And a young woman named Christine "Rainbow" Narson, with a quirk of "Color Change"; meaning she could simply change the color of her eyes, hair, skin and other parts of her body. Two partners in crime living the life of the street, gangs, guns, and fights.
They of course had a son, the outcome of adrenaline and alcohol, to which they named Jake. Now when they were.....wrestling, Christine had changed her hair and eyes to match that of a demon-like creature for.....role play purposes. The outcome was a demonic looking child with a quirk of "Regeneration"; meaning he could heal faster then the average human being. The boy did not possess however the quirk to change his body colors back to normal. Roye and Christine raised the boy to be a fighter so in turn fighting was almost all he knew. He knew the basics like math and how to speak and read, but he hardly ever had to do so. Most of his life was fighting, eating, and being tortured by his "Parents" for he still felt pain and they wanted a senseless fighter with no emotions. There outcome however was a fighter with a twisted mind and even more twisted sense of humor as he began to enjoy the pain they inflicted upon him.
One day during a street fight at the age of 15, over the cheers of the small crowd and threw the blood in his eyes and an ear to ear smile across his face as Jake was still beating his opponents unconscious face in, sirens and lights echoed and bounced off the abandoned warehouses walls. The small crowd including Jake's parents, more like owners as they treated him like an animal, scattered like cockroaches. In turn, Jake ran as well when a thought popped in his mind. He could leave now and not be bound by the people who contained him, he could fight on his own terms and not when he was told and make money for himself instead of being paid in scraps and a blanket on the floor, and he could let his insanity roam free. So he ran without really knowing where he was going and after about a year of living homeless not really staying anywhere for too long, resting in abandoned buildings and other "out of sight out of mind" places, he was off to his next fight.
He normally looked for any good paying fight he could get his hands on but with the growing population of wannabe heroes popping up the fights started becoming harder to find. He was running low on money and he heard word about a new organization in town running fights in an underground arena, so he hooked up with a shady man by the name Kenington and got a fight set up. The day of the fight he arrived at the destination of the said underground arena and all he saw was an empty alley way. As he continued down the alley way police cars swiftly blocked both ends and four men came from above and took him to the ground strapping him in a suit close to the style of a straight jacket, threw him in a police car, and took him to the station. When he arrived at the station they moved him to an isolation room to which he was accompanied by two people. One was the chief of the police force and another was a strange looking person by the name of Tumble.
Regeneration - Jake can heal much faster then an average human being. When wounds would take days to heal for a normal person it would only take him minutes depending on the injury. If its a small cut or scrape, it won't take more then a minute or so where as a broken bone will take a day or two to fully heal. The draw back however is that he can't regenerate from death and the the weaker he is - tired, hungry, or seriously wounded - the longer it takes for him to regenerate and its kinda a given but he does age. Regeneration doesn't stop him in his prime. He also uses up energy fast so he's almost always eating because if he doesn't, he drops like a rock and his wounds won't heal for if you don't have the proteins or minerals for your body to function, his regenerative abilities won't either.
Hand to Hand Combat - He's not trained in any particular style of fighting or weaponry, however, he is exceptional in close quarters combat and excels with his fists.
The police chief stated "I could take you to jail for the various assaults, attempts of murder, and violation of government property specifically peeing on the outside wall of the police station and painting a male sex organ on the hood of a police car.", to which Jake replied "Hey that was art.", "but I've got a better idea." the chief continued "This person here is gonna take you somewhere real nice. It's a little place where there gonna clean up your act and teach you to be a model citizen." both the Tumble person and police chief smiled as he finished."Now you gotta be joking, there ain't no way there gonna turn me into a goody two shoes you must be smoking something. By the way either of you got a light I could use a cigarette" "Oh I'm not when there done with you your gonna be the little angel of our town so pack your bags buttercup it's a long trip". To which Jake replied "The only angel here is you chief, why don't you just go su......" The insult was quickly silenced with the butt of a rifle to the side of Jake's head and off he went to his new home with a strange looking woman named Tumble. |
8,171 | 221 | 4 | 1,984 | 122 | Reina stood with her hands balled and stuck deep into her jacket pockets. She stared at the shifting crowd ahead of her uncomfortably, glancing over at her father next to her as the man cleared his throat. He looked as incredulous as she felt.
"Wow, guess you're something of a celebrity now, Rein," he said.
The girl looked back to the crowd without replying. She had suspected that something like this might eventually happen--a sensible occurence when one associates with one of the most popular heroes in the country. She had even thought about how she should carry and present herself in front of cameras, to start building her image as a hero on the right foot.
This though... it was a little much, and a little soon. While the crowd wasn't necessarily there for her, she was part of the reason for it, and there was little doubt she'd be veritably swarmed the moment she stepped towards the building and was recognized.
Reina's father spoke again, breaking her from her thoughts.
"I'll walk with you to the door, alright?" he said, the concern in his voice apparent--at the moment, the girl wasn't doing a great job of hiding her nerves.
She shook her head. "No, it's okay." She gave her father a small smile, as reassuring as she could manage, and he nodded in response, understanding. She wanted her first public appearance as a potential hero to be as strong as she could manage; appearing to be babysat during it wouldn't help.
Reina wasn't ready for this, she thought, but before letting herself hesitate she gave her father a small wave and started to quickly make her way into the crowd and to the hero agency. Her thoughts focused on her quirk, keeping her gravitational field as close to neutral as possible--she found herself dreading the thought of slipping up and causing someone to lose their balance and injure themselves, especially now of all times.
"Excuse me," she said repeatedly as she pushed through the crowd, apologizing as her orbs made contact with people. She swallowed hard, keeping her head down as she strained to keep her gravity as consistently weak as possible.
"Ms. Mori? Ms. Reina Mori!"
As focused on her quirk as she was, she jumped slightly at being called out by name, turning her head quickly to see a middle-aged woman with a microphone being followed by a camera man.
Here we go... she thought, preparing herself to speak as confidently as she could. She could make a good first impression, she had too.
And then she realized she had turned tail and was pushing through the crowd directly away from the reporter that had recognized her.
"Ms. Mori! the reporter called again, clearly trying to catch up.
What... what the hell was wrong with her? Reina had made direct eye contact with the reporter. It was completely clear she had seen the woman and knew she was calling to her. The girl tried to stuff her hands further into her pockets, feeling trapped by the decision she had taken with no thought. She really didn't feel like facing the reporter after that, but the woman wasn't giving up, having called Reina's name two more times already.
Annoyingly persistent. Reina bit the corner of her mouth in embarrassed frustration and decided it was best to cut her losses. Fighting to keep herself from visibly shaking, she turned around to face the camera that was following her.
The girl's eyes widened as she saw there were three cameras pushing towards her now, as well as two more reporters--the first reporter's yelling had brought some extra greatly unwanted attention clearly.
Weak gravity, weak gravity, weak gravity...
Reina all but shut down as they pounced on her, a deer caught in the headlights as three competing questions came at once. It took all she had to fight the instinct to push them all away with her quirk. Why were they interested in her, of all people? Surely there were others recruited by Tumble that were more deserving of the attention of these cameras.
"Excuse me?..." she managed, having understood none of the overlapping questions through the noise of the crowd.
All three came at the same time again, causing a twinge of annoyance to replace some of the anxiety that had gripped the girl. Her eyes narrowed and she managed to look the reporters in the eyes.
"One at a time," she said, far more forcefully than she thought she could manage, even taking the reporters aback slightly--that was fine, forceful was better than pathetically meek. She eyed the first reporter who had found her, indicating she had the first question.
The first two questions were nothing much. The woman asked about the incident Reina had been caught up in a month before, and the second reporter asked for her thoughts on what Tumble was trying to accomplish with the sudden recruitment of her and the others. Reina answered them as best she could, settling down quickly as she began to force herself to get over the fact that she didn't feel like this attention was deserved. She wasn't as eloquent as she would've hoped, but she thought she at least didn't make a fool of herself. She turned to the third reporter to hear him out.
"You've been rejected by numerous high-profile hero academies in the past--how does it feel to be picked up by Tumble despite that?" he asked.
The girl stopped, glancing away from him immediately as the sting of the question hit. These people had really dug into her past. A part of a hero's job that she'd have to accept if she hoped to become one... but it felt violating.
Why do you care?
I'm nobody.
I know I shouldn't be here.
I know I'm not strong enough.
Reina bit her lip, at least raising her head but looking away from the cameras as she answered.
"I'm grateful to her for the chance. I'll work hard to try not to waste it." Professional and truthful, if a little curt. The girl had plenty more to say, but now was not the time--if there even was any appropriate time to voice her thoughts.
She wanted to be elsewhere now more than ever. With an unenthusiastic nod of farewell to the reporters, she quickly made an exit through the crowd towards the hero agency, hoping they'd leave her alone. | This is a picture of what he would look with his quirk, as illustrated by person who has the quirk to draw what people would look like if they was quirkless. He has dog-like ears and a tail, which are covered by the same blonde hair as his head, except the tips are a dark black color. His right eye is blue, where his left eye is golden. He typically wears a hoodie with the hood down, and blue jeans with sneakers, even for formal events when he can get away with it. The only time he will pull the hood up is when he is trying to not be recognized. He does not actually have any piercings.
Jason "Fenrir" Williams
Male
17
Fenrir usually has an air of uneasy calmness, usually be sarcastic and abrasive but not necessarily anti-social. He is quick to anger, but hard to goad into a fight unless someone else attacks him first, at which point it is hard to separate him from whoever he is fighting.
Despite clearly having the features of a common dog, Fenrir insists that he has the features of a wolf. However, whenever referred to as a dog, his reaction is typically more annoyed than angered. When someone tries to insult him by calling him a dog, or something to the effect, he usually retorts in a smug manner.
He has very little care for social etiquette, wearing informal clothing to formal events, eating very messily, sometimes tearing into raw meat in public places.
Fenrir was born in the US. His mother disappeared shortly after giving birth to him. After his months disappearance, him and his father moved to Japan. His father tried to be a good father, but was often busy at work and was always emotionally distant.
At the young age of 15, he ran away and joined a small street gang and gained a new father figure in the form of the gang leader, who was in his late fourties. Two months ago, the leader who goes by the name Loki, was accused of super villiany. In order to avoid having the gang being dragged down with him, he turned himself in.
One month ago, Fenrir left the gang out of both frustration that no one else even tried to help their former leader, and that he hated the person who took over the gang, believing him to be a "Slimy, cowardly, greedy rattlesnake."
He has recently joined Tumble willingly, believing that he if could become a hero, he can save the only person who ever mattered to him.
Canine Aspects - Fenrir possesses the ears and tail of a german shepherd. In addition, his tongue appears slightly longer and flatter than normal, and his nose has a bit of a dark hue and is slightly wet to the touch. The palms of his hands and feet are more apparently black and slightly thicker and has a leathery texture. In addition, his fingernails form claws.
Due to quirk, he has enhanced smell, taste, and hearing. He is slightly faster and stronger than the average quirkless human, but this enhanced speed and strength is within normal ranges.
His quirk has several weaknesses; he is more easily overwhelmed by strong odors or sounds, and will react in a similar fashion to a dog if he hears a dog-whistle. In addition, he seems easily distracted. It is unknown if this is caused by his quirk, or if this has another cause.
Other canines seem to inherently friendly or at least neutral to him, including non-domesticated canines.
Fenrir is not good at many things, however his time as a gang member did teach him some important life lessons. He is multilingual, knowing three different languages; English, Japanese, and Spanish. And knows how to pick locks. He also knows Morse Code.
Fenrir stormed up to this agency place he heard about, his footsteps loud against the concrete. He took his hand and made a fist, slamming against the side of door to make a hardy knock. He drew back his fist again, and beat against the door.
He put his face against the door of the building. "I know you can hear me. Let me in. I hear you are taking in us street trash and trying to make us heroes or something. I want in." He waited only a few seconds before drawing his hand back again and knock on it once more.
"What, am I am not good enough for this stupid little club or yours. You would be lucky to include this wolf on your team." Once again, he waited about two seconds before once again slamming his hand against the door.
"Are you only taking in the ones you think you can fix? Like the rest of us are broken beyond repair or something." He waited only a few seconds longer, before banging on the door twice.
"I need this. For a frie.. For my father." he said, and before he could knock again, the door opened revealing Tumble. "Huh, didn't think you was a girl. Oh well, were do I sign up?" |
8,172 | 221 | 5 | 1,522 | 1,025 | Fenrir casually walked down the path. He was use to crowds of people who don’t know how to shut up, invasive questions, and the occasional ravings of a lunatic. The context might be different, but they still felt familiar. His eyes was focused right in front of him, however his ears keep turning from side to side. Fenrir could handle crowds, he didn’t like them, but he learned to tolerate them. The real problem was that felt like the perfect time for someone to attack them, and the sea of people will quickly turn into a liability.
As he was walking, he snapped out of his haze and realized that while he was scanning the crowd for suspicious sounds, a reporter had put a mic in his face and several of them was calling his real name. “Firstly, it is Fenrir. But go ahead, ask your questions. It isn’t like I have anything better to do right now.” he said, as he keep walking forward at the same pace.
One reporter asked, "What is your relationship with the villain by the name Erland Calderson, who now goes by the name Loki?"
Fenrir bite his lip, looking around You are mistaking my boss for someone else. He might be a street thug, but he is a good man.
Another reporter asked, "What made you join this group? Was it order to get pardon for your past crimes."
He paused and shrugged his shoulders, "I just got bored. That and my old haunt smelled like rotting cheese."
A third reporter asked, "What do you think about the other members of this team?"
Fenrir looked around, "First time seeing them, but my first impression is that they are utterly useless. The only one that looks like he could handle a fight is Mr. Crazy over there."
Fenrir noticed that he was close to do the door, Ok no more questions, you social parasites. he said, and just picked up pace and went towards the door. | Tommy Sparks
Male
14
Tommy is a bit of a paradox as he is simultaneously incredibly lazy and clever, mostly being clever enough to find a way to keep being lazy. It's either all or nothing for him. He is a lover once he gets attached to someone he truly and dearly cares for them. It is this tendency to do all he can for those he cares for that gets him in hot water so to speak. He acts younger than his age as a way to lower other people’s guard. Tommy tends to voice his worries and opinions out loud irrespective of others around him, when people take offence he grumpily tells them not to eavesdrop.
Tommy didn’t initially bother with cultivating his quirk as it was more of a hindrance than something good. Deadbeat parents sending him out each day to collect loose change or lost treasures as if they were using a metal detector on a beach. Eventually though he felt frustrated at home, everyone looked twofaced, half-starved Tommy just went out one day and didn’t return. Incidentally Tommy Sparks isn’t his real name. Tommy deliberately forgot his real name to help run from them.
Cultivating an ‘innocent and adorable’ appearance and mannerisms allowed Tommy to get away with a lot, eventually Tommy realised his quirk could be used in a highly profitable way. Namely winning at pachinko. Making little metal balls fall where he wanted? What better way to fine tune control over a quirk? Slowly Tommy began earning a profit by just sitting down in front of a noise maker and having the metal balls land where he wanted. Still a barely 14 year old kid playing pachinko all day? Even the most neglectful person would start to care sooner or later so he eventually just went to a different parlour each day so they all thought he came once a week.
Now with a sizable amount of pocket change, Tommy rented a room in an internet café and then lived out of there, going to a pachinko parlour during the day for ‘work’ to earn some money and then going back to the internet café at night to educate himself online. He had Sunday ‘off’ to go buy clothes and such. With his relatively stable living Tommy eventually just wanted a long comfortable love with people that won’t use him as a walking ATM to withdraw money from.
Pinball Wizard - Tommy has a power loosely connected to magnetism as his quirk. Able to attract and repel any metal object. Tommy can even imitate rudimentary flight, especially in a built up area like a city full of skyscrapers, however in practice it would appear closer to him either swinging from an invisible rope or as if he’s being dragged in a direction.
Currently Tommy’s control and strength of his quirk is a bit low. If Tommy is heavier than the item he’s manipulating, he’ll move it. If Tommy is lighter, he’ll either be pushed or pulled towards it depending on what he’s attempting to do to it. As an example; if Tommy “pushes” a coin into the ground, the coin will fly as fast as Tommy can manage until it hits the ground. Then the force he’s pushing the coin down with will send him upwards. If he tries to “pull” a car, he’ll likely fly towards it instead. If the vehicle was moving he would be better off slamming the brakes on the vehicle than lifting it. Perhaps later with training he’ll be able to manipulate things heavier than him and move things faster.
- Persuasion
- Cooking
- Although it's not photographic, his memory is strong
Tommy was sitting in a pachinko parlour using his quirk to occasionally influence a jackpot, he couldn’t be as blatant as he used to be as the next town over they almost called the cops on him. There was no proof, but being 14 years old and spending all day playing pachinko? Well, it was already stretching it and cops would just try dragging him to school or worse, home. So when he left the pachinko parlour with his bags to toys to exchange for money and was tapped on the shoulder by an official looking woman the fear in his eyes was likely visible.
“Can I help you miss?” putting on his best deer in the headlights look and laying on the sugar in his voice before he was dragged by the ear, bags of toys in hand, all the way to Tumble's agency
Tommy keeps a small fortune in coins on his person ready to use as a makeshift weapon or escape tool with his magnetism |
8,173 | 221 | 6 | 760 | 73 | Akemi dashed around the rocky mountain path as she lagged behind. Her friends ahead clearing a path while Timn, directly in front of her, reached out his hand to help her along. She didn't dare look behind, as she could tell their lead was almost non-existent. Akemi took Timn's hand and was pulled forward as the stone door scraped against the heel of her shoe. Everyone was panting. It was dark, but they were safe.
"The hard part is over, yes?" Akemi teased, knowing full well that there was more to come. They weren't even half way done with their journey, and never mind the fact that they only just entered orc territory. Akemi looked up to find that everyone had left. Her eyes quickly rushed around, and her hand reached out to where she could've sworn Timn was just there. Oh, he was. Akemi grinned, thinking the others probably went to scout ahead. Timn grinned too, his pointy teeth shined in what little light there was and his eyes were shared her relief with a red hue. Akemi was able to catch her breath with him there and her stomach seemed to cease its nervousness. A wave of tiredness flew over her in her relief as she looked down. A curiosity caught her eye. Something shiny seemed to be sticking out of her. Or into her. Then she remembered; Timn didn't have red eyes or pointed teeth.
"Zzz Zzz-!"
Though Akemi didn't snore, there was rustling coming from the plant that sat not too far from the door, against the wall. Akemi, who had been curled up asleep, awoke and stood to find a few flower buds falling from her vines as well as a crowd of people surrounding her. Loud people. Akemi had arrived the night before as she didn't exactly know when she should've been here. Not that she'd care a couple of days from now when she started skipping again, but it wouldn't hurt to make a good first impression. She looked around and wondered why there were so many reporters and the like here. There was only, what, ten people that could pass as a student here? And was that it? Only ten students? Sure, she supposed more could've showed up, but now she understood why she might've been able to join. They could use all the students they could get. | Akemi Akagi
Female
15
Akemi's known for being pretty timid. She likes to take slow steps as she creeps around to where the people are; and when invited to speak, there's a brief pause between each of her ideas. However, she's usually very calm and seems to follow through with anything she does without holding back. She's also quite a realist. She knows when the odds are stacked against her, and prefers not to waste her time and effort.
Akemi was actually quite the outgoing child before her quirk started to kick in. Always running head first and living in the now.
Bust as her quirk started to develop, she noticed herself start to fade into the background of her class. It wasn't anything to be concerned about at first; she got along with just about anybody, and could easily find a group to join as class demanded. It wasn't until free time that she could feel her isolation. Everyone always grouped up around this activity or that, enjoying their time together while Akemi tended to sit on the sidelines; no longer interested in running around or what her peers were up to.
Growing up a few years; while her classmate's bond with each other deepened and cliques began to form, Akemi remained on the sidelines looking from afar. She was pretty happy though. Watching the other students play their games and socialize brought an intrigued smile across her face. She liked watching them have fun even if she wasn't in the middle of it. At least until, she woke up one day; nearing the end of her middle school career while life passed her by.
Filled with less than stellar motivation, Akemi started taking the liberty of not coming to class as often. Of course, her parents didn't know, but that was easy to cover up. Slipping in and out of the house was relatively easy and she was able to brush off any inquiry of about her absence without any consequence. Akemi began spending most of her days roaming the town. Her vines grew wild and unkempt,
and before she knew it she lost any direction in life and simply existed.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from her head, which she can control at will. Theses vines can stretch and grow up to a range of 15 meters, though she can only effectively control one or two strands with any skill.
These vines can also produce a strange flower. The effects of this flower remains unknown as it continues to wilt before fully blooming.
Mobile - Akemi isn't particularly fast or with great endurance, but she can turn and take off on a dime.
Thick Skinned - Being hit by a truck would obviously knock her down, but a solid punch and minor cuts won't even faze her.
Quiet - Unless you put effort into it, one might not even know she's there. A soft voice with silent steps to match.
"Oho, yes..." Akemi looked down at the desk in front of her. Her vines covered her face, but her disappointment bled through her voice. She should've expected it, given how little she actually came to class nowadays; but it was a disheartening blow regardless. In front of her laid a single piece of paper telling her what choices she had to pick from. There were only two. For one reason or another she missed the cut to join most of any of the high schools in the area. The first of her choices was the old school that had come to be known for its quirk-enabled students being outnumbered nine to one. While she didn't really plan on attending much of her classes, going to a place with a focus on the quirk-less didn't sound all that appealing. Her other choice was much like the list of schools she failed to get into. In fact, she was quite surprised this one managed to stay available. Akemi had already chose this as her school of choice, due to lack of options, but she couldn't help but be curious on why the bar was set so low compared to the others. Excusing herself, Akemi left school. Honestly it was about 50/50 if anyone noticed. She headed off into town, to see what this school was all about.
Anything else that doesn't fit into the rest of the sheet. |
8,174 | 221 | 7 | 695 | 383 | A sea of bodies. A storm of voices. An endless stream of clicks and ticks and flashing lights as fingers scrabbled against screens and buttons, desperately snapping shots to be slapped on a web page with some hastily written text and perhaps a choice quote or two, whichever would draw the most hits from bored or curious citizens looking for a few minutes of pointless entertainment in checking out the latest buzz on the hero scene. Some would spin it as a feel-good piece, the disadvantaged kids being offered a generous chance at redemption. Others would shoot for controversy, painting Tumble as an irresponsible upstart trying to drag mentally unstable youths and literal criminals into what was supposed to be a prestigious and tightly regulated field of work. If either story sold well enough, it might even end up being scavenged by the dead tree press the next morning.
Really, though, the whole clusterfuck could be summed up in a single sentence: it was attention, something Toma Shuko was doing her very best to avoid at the moment.
She'd known it would be one of the risks from the moment she'd received Tumble's offer, but had hoped the hero in question would keep things quiet. Evidently, she had not. Which led to the worrying question of whether this whole affair was just a big PR stunt. It certainly wouldn't be the first time Shuko had been taken for a ride.
Luckily she hadn't been the first to arrive, and by the time she'd showed up the press and gawkers alike had already ambushed the other prospective heroes, leaving her free to watch the whole scene from some distance away. A few people might have seen her, but when there was a guy cosplaying as Satan screaming about pain and violence only a few yards away, nobody was going to pay much attention to a scrawny girl with messy hair in a rumpled grey sweater, clutching a thin notebook to her chest.
The latter was a deliberate choice on her part, meant to make her look as boring as humanly possible for the cameras. Plain features and a dead expression did the rest, and for now only one pair of eyes was actually looking at her.
"Shuko. I'm fairly sure you're supposed to be standing in front of that crowd."
She met her father's gaze, trying to look a great deal calmer than she actually felt. "You're right. I'm hesitating again." She paused. "But the less time I have to spend in that mess, the better."
"If you're going to go through with this, you'll be seeing plenty more of the press from now on. You can't avoid them forever."
"I can avoid them now."
"Perhaps. But the thicker that crowd gets, the harder it'll be to move through, and you wouldn't want to be stuck back here and miss your first day." Gently, he rested a hand on one of her shoulders, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know you hate this part. I also know you're strong enough to brave it."
"Not strong."
He rolled his eyes a little at that. "You're as pedantic as your mother. Fine, not strong, but capable. You already have a plan for this, don't you?"
Shuko's cold expression cracked, just a little. A smile, fleeting, too quick to catch if one weren't looking for it.
Her father noticed, and smiled right back. "Go on, then. Before time runs out."
She nodded, and stepped forwards.
Part of her reason for hanging back was simple reluctance, the other part was a need to observe. Her thoughts had drifted, from the types of clothing on display to the lumens of each camera flash to the absence of Tumble herself to the other hero candidates to a somewhat cynical internal discussion on the media and this whole situation. All of it was fluff. Fluff to pass the time as she watched the crowd, gathering information for her Quirk to chew on.
Humans as individuals could be incredibly unpredictable. Humans as a group were far less so. The crowd had parameters she could use, points where people had focused their attention, which in turn determined the overall movement of the throng. Once she understood how this great mass of bodies worked, she could make a rough estimate of the fastest way through it.
Which she'd just done, leaving her with nothing to do but walk straight in.
Head down, shoulders hunched. First through the more open areas, where there remained some respect for personal space, then into the scrum at the front. Bodies pressed against her, larger than her, stronger than her, and she focused, making sure to push through in such a way as to move people towards the centers of attention, giving them an excuse to push forwards against others rather than push back against her. Not everyone responded the same way, but the law of averages was in full effect here, and she slipped through the crowd like a ghost.
Until a roving glance caught her and made the connection, and a hand reached out to try and seize her, a shouted question already in the air. Shuko twisted to one side, away from the grasping fingers, and moved on as if nothing had happened.
Some had caught wind, now, and were yelling or snapping photos, but the most they'd get would be a dull grey blur as she moved away from them, and a stiff, unyielding silence. If she didn't say anything, then what could they write about? Enough pressure would eventually force her to speak, but she was counting on a simple rule of nature here: when presented with a choice predators tended to go after the easier prey.
Sure enough, the attention passed, returning to the dog and the devil and whoever else was putting on a show. Shuko breathed a quiet sigh of relief, her pulse returning to normal as she made her way over to a squat-looking boy who seemed to have clammed up as well. Of all the others, he seemed the least likely to be photographed- the media didn't favor the unattractive. She'd stand next to him, and with any luck they'd be ignored until Tumble showed up.
(With 's character for now) | Shuko Toma
Female
16
Shuko's a daydreamer, a girl who always seems to have something going on in her head. In the right situation, she's both imaginative and thoughtful, but the frenetic pace of life often pushes her to retreat into herself rather than fully express these qualities. She's disorganized, even careless, with untamed hair and a disjointed, eclectic fashion sense that never seems to quite click. A textbook introvert, she feels nervous around other people and somewhat inept socially, a flaw that she despises in herself but has little idea how to correct. She's quiet and very obedient, to the point where it's almost too easy to push her around- a weakness which has proven dangerous of late.
For most of her childhood, Shuko was raised by a single father. She doesn't remember her mother nor where the woman went, and has learned not to broach the subject with her remaining parent. Her dad has always been fair and affectionate, but he's also had to work full-time while trying to care for a child, and though the familial love is there, the situation has created something of a disconnect. Sensitive to the stress her parent was under, Shuko has always done her best to avoid sharing problems with him- but the lack of conventional family dynamics and her somewhat introverted nature left her with nobody else to go to.
Academically, she performed incredibly well during her earlier years, especially once her Quirk emerged and began to develop. Her potential was noted by important figures, and it became a source of pride for her. Unfortunately, it was also noted by her peers. Shuko was marked as a target for bullying and harassment, a situation only exacerbated by her apparent inability to fight back. Rather than seek help from authority, she withdrew further, hiding her talents and doing her best to escape unwanted attention. It worked, to some extent, but as a result her marks dropped down to just above average, and Shuko was still plagued by a bad reputation among her fellow students. Cut off even further, she found some solace in art and literature, as well as her Quirk- the one thing about herself that she still valued.
So when she was approached by a business that had noted her early talents and wanted to hire her for part-time work, she jumped at the chance. The job was easy enough: someone wanted her to manage and distribute funds, a task that was easily accomplished with her Quirk. Once her employers had taught her the basics of what they wanted her to do, she played her part perfectly, taking home a decent salary for relatively light hours and enjoying the opportunity to use her talents to their fullest, even if she was working largely behind the scenes. It seemed she'd finally found herself a place in the world.
Then the police came knocking at the door.
As it turned out, the "business" that had recruited Shuko was of the less-than-legitimate variety, and had exploited her number-crunching ability to help manage illegally obtained funds, turning money into more money through both simple investment and various financial loopholes. She'd been a completely unwitting accomplice to a number of serious crimes, and was dragged into court with little but her own testimony to defend her.
In the end she was found innocent, in part because nobody could believe such a harmless girl could possibly be a cunning criminal. Still, her sense of stability was shattered, she'd missed weeks of classes while on trial, and her bad reputation was soured still further. The law might have let her go, but rumors spread relentlessly among teachers, students, and even her father's colleagues. Surrounded on every side by whispers and suspicion, she shut down entirely. No more school, no more friends, no more life. She'd failed. She was done.
It was her father who pushed her towards an alternative. Shuko didn't know much about Tumble, or particularly care, but it was this or the psych ward. Becoming a hero was a foolish dream, but at least the attempt might earn her some form of redemption.
Calculator - Shuko is a genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to her senses and memory: she can identify the exact dimensions of an object at a glance, and can perfectly recall numbers and measurements, juggling hundreds of digits in her head with little need for pen or paper. This often works at a subconscious level with few visible effects, but when she puts it into intensive use the blood flow to her brain massively increases, causing the veins in her neck and face to bulge outwards.
Unfortunately, this excellent memory doesn't extend beyond mathematics: she forgets non-numerical concepts easily unless reminded. She can remember the width of someone's eyes down to the millimeter a year after having met them, but will likely forget their name within a minute. Additionally, she has trouble concentrating on ordinary tasks or situations. Everything around her offers numbers for calculations that her mind performs almost instinctively, and it's often hard for her to keep track of the real world, especially when her quirk is under heavy use.
Artist - One of the few ways Shuko can fully express herself is through drawing and painting. She's not good nor renowned enough to be featured in galleries, but is still noticeably talented for a high school student. She's also a decent pianist.
Animals - She's pretty bad with people, but gets along well with animals. They seem to like her, and she's patient and gentle with them in return.
Endurance - Shuko has never been one for sports, but she does exercise somewhat. Her build is slight, and she's still pretty weak in terms of lifting strength, but she can keep up a moderate level of physical activity for hours if necessary.
The rachis, or shaft, of a flight feather branches along its length into hundreds of barbs, often of asymmetrical length but always aligned on opposite sides of the rachis. In turn, the sides of each barb are layered with tiny barbules...
Shuko's eyes moved slowly and silently over the page, picking out each word with dazed indifference. She'd been staring at her book for over an hour now, sometimes reading, sometimes logging the heights and widths of the printed letters and noting their individual surface areas. Didn't matter which, really. It was something to do, something to lose herself in for a little while longer.
She shifted slightly, blinking as she realized she'd reached the end of a page, then deftly turned it over.
...many of which are in turn covered by minuscule hooks. These allow the barbules to interlock with one another, forming small connections which hold the barbs together, effectively forming a single cohesive surface...
She was idly adding up the areas of each punctuation mark in the last two sentences when a noise caught her attention. A footstep, someone entering the room. Its exact volume in decibels popped up somewhere in the midst of her thoughts as she turned around, staring through overlarge glasses at her father.
She should say something. Her mind grasped for ideas, clawing desperately at anything she could shove through her mouth to break the silence. A few incoherent syllables were bundled together and shoved up her throat, and she blurted out, "I'm-"
Just as her father opened his mouth to speak. "There's-"
Their words collided, waves of sound overlapping and causing a dozen separate calculations to spark off in Shuko's head. They both stopped. Then her father gestured, indicating that she should go first.
She shook her head, voice barely above a whisper. "It was nothing. Please, go on."
He paused for a second, as if hoping she'd change her mind, then nodded. "There's a letter for you. I know you... that you need some time right now, but I think you need to read this. It's not the kind of opportunity that comes often."
He was trying to pique her interest, she could tell. He failed. Still, when he held out a neatly folded sheet of paper, she took it. Shuko didn't care who had written it or what it said, but she didn't want to disappoint him. Not again, not after everything that had happened.
It was clean, neat, official. She unfolded it carefully, letting her eyes drift over it, if only for the sake of formality.
Then her gaze sharpened. She blinked, narrowed her eyes, then sped up, racing through each sentence with a growing disbelief. For the first time since everything had broken down, she felt something, a hint of drive beneath layers of despair. Curiosity. True or not, what was on this page didn't make sense. She turned it over and over in her mind, thoughts churning and sparking and wondering at this new mystery.
Who was the hero Tumble? If she was a big shot like it sounded, why had she gone looking for Shuko? Who in their right mind would want anything to do with her, let alone think that she could become a hero?
She stood up, letting her book fall from her hand as she clutched at the letter with the other. Was it a blessing? A stroke of luck? Another failure just waiting to happen? She didn't know- but it was something, and something was better than letting time drift away without hope.
She looked back at her father. "I think... I'd like to try it."
They left the room together. Behind them, the book lay open, unfinished.
...which presses against the air, generating lift and allowing the bird, so ungainly on land, to take flight, and soar upon the winds.
- She's far-sighted, and will have trouble making out anything within six feet without glasses.
- She often carries around a small notebook to sketch in. |
8,175 | 221 | 8 | 1,010 | 272 | Yuki was passing through the crowd at a snail's pace. Mostly because he was stopping for every question. Unlike his peers, he wasn't camera shy by any stretch. In fact, he was striking poses for every photo. It was hard to say whether he had the reporters eating out of the palm of his hand, or the other way around. Either way, Yuki was digging the attention.
"Any ideas for a superhero name?" A reporter asked.
"Ice Dragon." He said, a wicked grin on his face.
"Your father, Soichiro Takamine, he was recently-"
"I walk my own path." Yuki said, wicked grin still plastered on his face.
"Favorite c-"
"Blue. Ice blue." He said, giving the thumbs up. It was about this time that Satan himself started yelling. Yuki watched, a smile across his face as the drama unfolded. Well, he knew a good time when he saw one. He pushed past the reporters, completely ignoring them as he headed for the entrance of school, only to see a plant girl pop up from the ground in front of him. Huh. Cool power. He held he door open for her behind him as he followed Satan.
"Nice job dealing with those reporters. That was metal as hell." Yuki said, giving Jake the thumbs up. "Name's Yuki. You go by Satan, right? I've been thinking of changing my name to Ice Dragon myself." | Yuki Takamine
Male
15
Yuki comes across as a friendly, outgoing young man, if a bit cocky and arrogant. He likes to fight, and he desires strength above all else, though he's not telling why. Despite his somewhat inflated ego, he's not particularly selfish. He just thinks he's the coolest dude. To be fair, he's very good at keeping his composure. His reactions to most things are very understated. It's not that he doesn't have feelings, it's just that he's not very noisy about them.
Born to a quirkless mother and a father with a minor ice-based quirk, Yuki grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father was, as far as Yuki knew, a businessman. He didn't see dad very much, because he was gone most of the time. He mostly just did whatever he felt like, and had no particular goals or ambitions until that fateful day. When he was seven, his mother took him along on an errand to a bank, and it just so happened it was being robbed by a villain. He watched as a person was killed, and he was afraid his mother and him would be next...But then a hero appeared and saved them. Ever since, he wanted to be a hero. He started training his powers, and hoped to be accepted into one of the many hero academies.
He thought his dream had ended when he turned 14, however. His father was arrested. It turned out he wasn't a businessman: He was the supervillain Hypothermia, wanted for several murders. Yuki was now a known criminal element, and it seemed he now had no hope of being accepted into any of the academies.
Then he heard about Tumble...
Freeze Bomb - Yuki holds out his hand, and a perfectly formed ball of what looks like water forms in his hand. It takes about a second. The ball bursts from even a small amount of force: Doing much more than squeezing it will cause it to explode, encasing everything within about 10 feet of it in an inch of ice. It also freezes any water in this area solid. Yuki is not immune to this effect: If he drops one of the orbs, it'll freeze him too. The ice it creates is totally normal, and it can be broken, albeit only with quite a bit of force.
Ice Skating - Yuki is quite agile on ice: He can slide around on it fairly well. No fancy tricks, but he can outmaneuver most people on an icy floor. He doesn't even need skates.
Pitcher - Yuki was in Little League, and he can throw pretty well. This means he can get good range out of his ice bombs.
Hand-to-Hand - Yuki has been in a fair number of fights. He's not amazing or anything, but he can throw a proper punch and probably hold his own in a scuffle. Without his powers, he'd probably lose against a trained martial artist, but not before getting a few good hits in.
Yuki looked over the sheet of paper. It had a list of high schools he'd been accepted into. It was embarrassingly short. Only two. He'd expected as much. He'd never been a good student, and had been hoping to get by on his powers and become a hero. Ever since his father had been arrested, he just hadn't had it in him to keep trying.
"It's not like I have much of a choice. Really, I don't know if I have much of a fut-" He said, then spotted the second name on the list. Huh. So he had been accepted into a hero academy. "Tumble?" He asked, holding the paper in his hand and studying it carefully. A miracle, before his eyes. "Sign me up for this one." He said, nodding.
Nope. |
8,176 | 221 | 9 | 1,984 | 122 | Reina Mori
The girl kept her head down as she made her way to the doors, but what she could only describe as the ravings of a lunatic caused her to glance up. She found the source of the voice--a boy around her age, apparently another of Tumble's chosen judging by his very loud answers to the same sort of questions she'd just suffered through herself. Reina couldn't help but eye the boy in disbelief as he pushed through the crowd. Was he the norm for Tumble's recruits? She could only hope not, or she'd be dealing with constant headaches, along with feeling even more out of place.
Not fully paying attention due to her thoughts, Reina lightly bumped into someone. She opened her mouth to apologize, stopping when she noticed the person was a younger boy, and very likely another recruit, judging by his apparent age and the way he was carrying himself.
“Gotta hate these vultures don’t ya? They’ll pick you to pieces if they think you’re easy prey. Easier to throw them a bone to fight over and then run like hell while they’re occupied," he said to her.
Reina paused for a moment, realizing he was talking about the reporters. Vultures. That was a nicer way of putting it than what she had in mind, and it elicited a faint but genuine smile from her. She nodded in agreement, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the crowd and the flashing cameras.
"I’m Tommy, nice to meet you. If you don’t mind, I’ll save the handshaking for inside,” he said. She looked back to him as they continued towards the building. She was impressed with how easily social he seemed to be, dealing with the crowd without any visible discomfort. It was a personality trait she often wished she had a bit of, especially in this moment.
"Reina," she replied, eyeing the other apparent recruits that had found themselves gathering at the front of the hero agency. An interesting bunch, that was certain. While there was no shaking the feeling of not belonging quite yet, no one really seemed to 'belong.' Reina wasn't sure how she felt about that--but at the very least, Tommy seemed easy enough to be around.
"I'm not big on shaking hands," she added with another half-smile. | This is a picture of what he would look with his quirk, as illustrated by person who has the quirk to draw what people would look like if they was quirkless. He has dog-like ears and a tail, which are covered by the same blonde hair as his head, except the tips are a dark black color. His right eye is blue, where his left eye is golden. He typically wears a hoodie with the hood down, and blue jeans with sneakers, even for formal events when he can get away with it. The only time he will pull the hood up is when he is trying to not be recognized. He does not actually have any piercings.
Jason "Fenrir" Williams
Male
17
Fenrir usually has an air of uneasy calmness, usually be sarcastic and abrasive but not necessarily anti-social. He is quick to anger, but hard to goad into a fight unless someone else attacks him first, at which point it is hard to separate him from whoever he is fighting.
Despite clearly having the features of a common dog, Fenrir insists that he has the features of a wolf. However, whenever referred to as a dog, his reaction is typically more annoyed than angered. When someone tries to insult him by calling him a dog, or something to the effect, he usually retorts in a smug manner.
He has very little care for social etiquette, wearing informal clothing to formal events, eating very messily, sometimes tearing into raw meat in public places.
Fenrir was born in the US. His mother disappeared shortly after giving birth to him. After his months disappearance, him and his father moved to Japan. His father tried to be a good father, but was often busy at work and was always emotionally distant.
At the young age of 15, he ran away and joined a small street gang and gained a new father figure in the form of the gang leader, who was in his late fourties. Two months ago, the leader who goes by the name Loki, was accused of super villiany. In order to avoid having the gang being dragged down with him, he turned himself in.
One month ago, Fenrir left the gang out of both frustration that no one else even tried to help their former leader, and that he hated the person who took over the gang, believing him to be a "Slimy, cowardly, greedy rattlesnake."
He has recently joined Tumble willingly, believing that he if could become a hero, he can save the only person who ever mattered to him.
Canine Aspects - Fenrir possesses the ears and tail of a german shepherd. In addition, his tongue appears slightly longer and flatter than normal, and his nose has a bit of a dark hue and is slightly wet to the touch. The palms of his hands and feet are more apparently black and slightly thicker and has a leathery texture. In addition, his fingernails form claws.
Due to quirk, he has enhanced smell, taste, and hearing. He is slightly faster and stronger than the average quirkless human, but this enhanced speed and strength is within normal ranges.
His quirk has several weaknesses; he is more easily overwhelmed by strong odors or sounds, and will react in a similar fashion to a dog if he hears a dog-whistle. In addition, he seems easily distracted. It is unknown if this is caused by his quirk, or if this has another cause.
Other canines seem to inherently friendly or at least neutral to him, including non-domesticated canines.
Fenrir is not good at many things, however his time as a gang member did teach him some important life lessons. He is multilingual, knowing three different languages; English, Japanese, and Spanish. And knows how to pick locks. He also knows Morse Code.
Fenrir stormed up to this agency place he heard about, his footsteps loud against the concrete. He took his hand and made a fist, slamming against the side of door to make a hardy knock. He drew back his fist again, and beat against the door.
He put his face against the door of the building. "I know you can hear me. Let me in. I hear you are taking in us street trash and trying to make us heroes or something. I want in." He waited only a few seconds before drawing his hand back again and knock on it once more.
"What, am I am not good enough for this stupid little club or yours. You would be lucky to include this wolf on your team." Once again, he waited about two seconds before once again slamming his hand against the door.
"Are you only taking in the ones you think you can fix? Like the rest of us are broken beyond repair or something." He waited only a few seconds longer, before banging on the door twice.
"I need this. For a frie.. For my father." he said, and before he could knock again, the door opened revealing Tumble. "Huh, didn't think you was a girl. Oh well, were do I sign up?" |
8,177 | 221 | 10 | 40 | 113 | ~Just getting started~
BGM
There was a soft breeze that carried pink and brown hair through the air.
A single bench occupied by a single person, complete serenity and quietness surrounded her.
It was so very boring; Nori had been waiting all night. The last piece of a sandwich was still plastered to the cheek of her face, desperately seeking a stomach to fill. It would never serve its purpose, as Nori wiped her gill with the soft back of her hand, letting the crumb surf the wind away. As she put her hand in front of her and observed a wristwatch, she noticed the clock indicators slowly moving, the waiting was killing her.
With a big thump and sigh, Nori dropped her right shoulder on the bench, closing her eyes and trying to catch some sleep. The wind settled, and the sunrise brought with it a warm glow that carried her to sleep.
“tss, damn gutter-children, should find someplace else to sleep, ruining a perfectly fine neighborhood like that.”
The words of a stranger rudely awoke her, but Nori was too excited to let some guy ruin her mood that easily. Upon looking at her wristwatch one more time though, her eyes lit up. It felt as if butterflies filled her belly, and her smile would never go, yet with that smile came two dedicated eyes that were facing in the direction of the agency; it was time.
Putting one foot in front of the other, she had started to move towards it, with every step more intense than the last, until she was running at her top speed. Although her eyes were firmly locked in one direction, Nori had started to notice more people along the same path and slowly but surely, a crowd could be heard louder and louder.
Her sprint was put to a halt when she realized that these people were looking for her. Of course it wasn’t just her; it was every person that received the invitation from Miss Tumble that was being targeted. She was well aware of the popularity of this event, yet in all her excitement she forgot to prepare herself for it.
Slow breaths filled her lungs as Nori tried to calm down and think of a strategy to deal with the press, ignoring them would give the other students a chance to shine, but being in the spotlight too much would limit her freedom. When dealing with these crowds, it was important to stay level-headed and not let yourself get carried away. And upon reaching the crowd, her plan was satisfactory for her.
Before making her known, she first opted to check out the rest of the competition, and it was a good way to prepare her for them too, seeing as how they could be hardcore villains for all Tumble cares. By focusing on the reporters and which way they were screaming, she could easily find most of the fellow students and some did indeed impress her. Most handled the press with ease, answering a few questions before reaching the building. One guy really seemed to dig the attention; if his ego wasn’t as inflated as an oversized balloon, he might be a good guy.
Another looked like a stereotypical villain with a crazy attitude and a scarred for life story, but most looked decent enough.
This class was already shaping up to be quite interesting, but now it was Nori’s turn to shine.
Her chin held up, a straight back, hair waving in the wind after placing one hand on her neck and throwing her hair tail over her shoulder, she took a step forward; she was going to give that ego a run for his money.
Her mind was focused on one thing, getting the crowd to love her; her eyes looked zealous, like a top athlete about to score the winning point.
“Nori Azami! Miss Azami!? How does it feel to be part of Tumble’s new pet project!? Why were you chosen over many more qualified individuals! Do you have a criminal record!? What do your parents think of this!?” some of the reporters noticed the heterochromatic eyes and hair and immediately bombarded Nori with questions. For a fraction of a second Nori seemed shocked, but it instantly turned into a ribald smile as Nori replied.
BGM
“Your questions don’t interest me, now please move aside.”
Of course no reporters complied, and they continued their barrage as Nori resumed walking forward, right into them. She pulled up her sleeves and held her arms in front of her. And when the journalist in front of Nori was about to stop her, a sudden gust of air pushed the reporter aside, and Nori continued to walk towards the building. Every attempt at communication got countered by the wind as Nori gracefully paraded towards the agency building, pushing aside everyone who didn’t move out of the way with her quirk.
This might have been a rude and bold move for her, and she might not even have liked to do it, but right now, she did not need to impress the newspapers, the real crowd was her class, which was undoubtedly filled with problematic people and villains. And right now, she showed that she did not take shit from nobody; she was not timid and definitely not afraid. | Name:
Nori Azami
Gender:
Female
Age:
16
Personality:
If you catch her on a normal day, she comes off as calm and collected, usually paired with a soft smile and relaxed attitude. She doesn’t hide her emotions and always lets them flow yet rarely let’s anyone upset her, which extends to dire situations as well.
She is not afraid to show her opinion, nor getting into a fight, even though she might lose.
The reason for that is because she is very competitive. Not backing off whenever she gets challenged and occasionally challenging others is a regular occurrence for her because she sees them as games to win and her emotions easily take over from there.
Her social life is not very special; she might be known but not exactly popular. She is liked by most but not loved. She does have friends that she cares for and that care for her, not a lot and not too few. Her family is also close to her heart, and them and Nori’s friends usually don’t mind her competitive attitude whenever it emerges.
Nori enjoys school because it challenges her every day and because of it, she excels at it. her mind is sharp and only gets cloudy when winning a challenge appears out of reach in which case she becomes fierce and reckless (which happens more than she’d like to admit).
Lastly, her hobbies are nonexistent because she does whatever challenges her the most at that time, only moving on when she feels like she has won.
Backstory:
Nori has always lived with her parents as a single child; she has had an ordinary life right up till she found out about U.A. high school. As soon as she heard it was the most prestigious school around, where only the best of the best got in, she knew where she wanted to go. It was the one thing that consistently drove her forward, not ever slowing down till she passed middle school.
But then her application got rejected; her parents went behind her back and told the school to deny the application because they didn’t want her to become a hero. Nori never found out, but instead of finding a normal school for a normal job, like her parents wanted her to, she did nothing, her motivation was gone and she didn’t know what to do.
And that is when she received the invitation.
Quirk:
Gust: Nori’s quirk allows her to blow Wind out of her pores, and the pores can also suck wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
she can control which pores shoot out air and which suck it in with full control, although the maximum output right now can only break branches and push someone over with considerable force(beaufort scale 8(it's like "fuz roh dah" from skyrim in its second stage))
Skills:
Ego: Nori is very confident in her abilities, and that boost automatically gives her an edge.
Inquisitor: Her sharp mind is quite deductive, and it makes her a versatile opponent. Being able to read a battlefield and the person on the opposite end is another edge for Nori.
Jock: Because she has taken on many different kinds of sports, she is in quite a good shape, nothing Olympic, but better than the average person.
Sample Post:
It was a few days after she had been rejected by U.A.
The denial still hurt and Nori had been very emotionally unstable ever since.
She wanted to get in and that meant being better, but no matter where she searched, she couldn’t find a way to improve herself other than going to U.A. It was infuriating to know that a whole year would pass before she could apply again, a whole year without a game to win, without a challenge to surpass. It left a sore taste in her mouth every day she woke up.
Her parents had been worried about her a lot, offering many different schools for her to apply to, yet none of them appealed to her, none of them could match the school that even All Might went to. But then, after weeks of chaos and madness, an e-mail arrived.
The contents of the mail turned Nori upside down; it was like they knew what had happened to her, like it was somehow fate. Nori had been chosen to attend some sort of school for those who want a chance to compete with the best. After sitting in her chair reading the mail three times in a row, she suddenly jumped up in the air squeaking like a squirrel. Her heart lit up like a Christmas tree and for the rest of the day, a constant smile was plastered to her face. Yet when she told her parents, they were not happy at all, they tried to, but Nori could see the fear behind their eyes. Maybe they didn’t trust the mail, maybe they were afraid to send Nori away, and it didn’t matter.
Nori was going, no matter whom or what was gonna try to stop her, she was going.
So that night, she packed whatever she could carry, wrote a note for her parents, and left.
Others:
None |
8,178 | 221 | 11 | 1,289 | 184 | As soon as Jake got in the door he sighed and his face returned to normal and the blasting emotion came back to his face. "I think I did a god job at messing with there minds with that preformance but I can't have them thinking I'll be turned to a goody two shoes so easily plus I'm Satan I like doing things wild style." Jake then grinned at Yuki and bowed. "Yes Satan's the name and crazy's the game! You said Ice Dragon now that would be cool."
As Jake examined the shrub person his gaze drew outside to the crowd of people and a huge grin came over his face as he turned to Yuki and said "I think we should help the others get inside before the reporters eat them. You take the left I'll take the right and get our...colleges... - Jake said this almost like he didn't know the meaning of having colleges - "In here and blockade the doors" Jake finished this statement looking at Yuki waiting for his acceptance and acknowledgement. | Jake "Satan" Vanguard
Male
16
Misunderstood as he is he tries to make friends but of course he's not exactly your good boy type. In most cases he's very random and crazy meaning he could go from having a full on deep conversation to admiring a cool looking rock on the ground. He gets distracted easily and his strange way of viewing things normally pushes people away. He's the type of teen that would stare death straight in the face while seriously asking if he liked cookies or brownies better. Yeah, he's not all there in the head but while common sense is low his street smarts somewhat make up for it with his sarcastic remarks. Needless to say he's wise not intelligent meaning he learns from experience not being taught by someone else or from a book. He won't learn not to stick his hand in a blender simply if you told him, he will learn when he has to make do without a couple fingers for a few weeks.
It started with a man named Roye "Pillar" Vanguard with a quirk of Stamina; meaning he hardly ever got fatigued no matter how strenuous the work (or play) was. And a young woman named Christine "Rainbow" Narson, with a quirk of "Color Change"; meaning she could simply change the color of her eyes, hair, skin and other parts of her body. Two partners in crime living the life of the street, gangs, guns, and fights.
They of course had a son, the outcome of adrenaline and alcohol, to which they named Jake. Now when they were.....wrestling, Christine had changed her hair and eyes to match that of a demon-like creature for.....role play purposes. The outcome was a demonic looking child with a quirk of "Regeneration"; meaning he could heal faster then the average human being. The boy did not possess however the quirk to change his body colors back to normal. Roye and Christine raised the boy to be a fighter so in turn fighting was almost all he knew. He knew the basics like math and how to speak and read, but he hardly ever had to do so. Most of his life was fighting, eating, and being tortured by his "Parents" for he still felt pain and they wanted a senseless fighter with no emotions. There outcome however was a fighter with a twisted mind and even more twisted sense of humor as he began to enjoy the pain they inflicted upon him.
One day during a street fight at the age of 15, over the cheers of the small crowd and threw the blood in his eyes and an ear to ear smile across his face as Jake was still beating his opponents unconscious face in, sirens and lights echoed and bounced off the abandoned warehouses walls. The small crowd including Jake's parents, more like owners as they treated him like an animal, scattered like cockroaches. In turn, Jake ran as well when a thought popped in his mind. He could leave now and not be bound by the people who contained him, he could fight on his own terms and not when he was told and make money for himself instead of being paid in scraps and a blanket on the floor, and he could let his insanity roam free. So he ran without really knowing where he was going and after about a year of living homeless not really staying anywhere for too long, resting in abandoned buildings and other "out of sight out of mind" places, he was off to his next fight.
He normally looked for any good paying fight he could get his hands on but with the growing population of wannabe heroes popping up the fights started becoming harder to find. He was running low on money and he heard word about a new organization in town running fights in an underground arena, so he hooked up with a shady man by the name Kenington and got a fight set up. The day of the fight he arrived at the destination of the said underground arena and all he saw was an empty alley way. As he continued down the alley way police cars swiftly blocked both ends and four men came from above and took him to the ground strapping him in a suit close to the style of a straight jacket, threw him in a police car, and took him to the station. When he arrived at the station they moved him to an isolation room to which he was accompanied by two people. One was the chief of the police force and another was a strange looking person by the name of Tumble.
Regeneration - Jake can heal much faster then an average human being. When wounds would take days to heal for a normal person it would only take him minutes depending on the injury. If its a small cut or scrape, it won't take more then a minute or so where as a broken bone will take a day or two to fully heal. The draw back however is that he can't regenerate from death and the the weaker he is - tired, hungry, or seriously wounded - the longer it takes for him to regenerate and its kinda a given but he does age. Regeneration doesn't stop him in his prime. He also uses up energy fast so he's almost always eating because if he doesn't, he drops like a rock and his wounds won't heal for if you don't have the proteins or minerals for your body to function, his regenerative abilities won't either.
Hand to Hand Combat - He's not trained in any particular style of fighting or weaponry, however, he is exceptional in close quarters combat and excels with his fists.
The police chief stated "I could take you to jail for the various assaults, attempts of murder, and violation of government property specifically peeing on the outside wall of the police station and painting a male sex organ on the hood of a police car.", to which Jake replied "Hey that was art.", "but I've got a better idea." the chief continued "This person here is gonna take you somewhere real nice. It's a little place where there gonna clean up your act and teach you to be a model citizen." both the Tumble person and police chief smiled as he finished."Now you gotta be joking, there ain't no way there gonna turn me into a goody two shoes you must be smoking something. By the way either of you got a light I could use a cigarette" "Oh I'm not when there done with you your gonna be the little angel of our town so pack your bags buttercup it's a long trip". To which Jake replied "The only angel here is you chief, why don't you just go su......" The insult was quickly silenced with the butt of a rifle to the side of Jake's head and off he went to his new home with a strange looking woman named Tumble. |
8,179 | 221 | 12 | 1,106 | 327 | 🆄🅿🅳🅰🆃🅴
Being showered by unwanted inquiries, maddening noise, and dazzling lights was definitely not how most wanted to start their day. Leaving oneself in a vexatious mood was more than acceptable given the circumstances they were in, but the same couldn't be said about all of the children. Some embraced the attention from the horde around them and chose to gloriously bask in the temporary limelight. In a way, having individuals who had such brazen personalities was an advantage for the rest since that only meant that less focus would be directed towards themselves.
Given the events that had taken place, it wouldn't be surprising if the names Satan and Ice Dragon started to circulate around the internet. Unfortunately, even among the silent and asocial ones, just having their appearances known to the public was enough to create a social uproar of some sort. Simply being directly linked to Tumble was more than enough to garner some reputation to one's name. Whether they would receive praise and be adored, or ridiculed and just be gossiped about, was anyone's guess.
Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, streams of odorless chalkish-white smoke erupted from the doors and windows of the agency, blanketing the streets and everyone in front of it in a thick cloud. Given the conditions everyone was in, specifically having their vision completely obscured, it wasn't that shocking that screams of anxiety suddenly filled the air. However, this moment of panic and fear was merely something short-term.
After what seemed to be a minute, the smoke that had flooded the streets soon dissipated along with the unruliness of those who were affected by it. Most were left dumbfounded though with what had happened; the children who everyone came to see, had vanished, while the doors and windows of Tumble's agency, were sealed shut.
Albeit left coughing and slightly suffocated, everyone Tumble had chosen found themselves on the floor and inside the agency. How they got inside was something they weren't quite sure of; it felt as if they were grabbed and simply dragged inside the premises of the building. However, before they could put two and two together, they noticed someone standing in front all of them, who was apparently smoking a cigarette. Appearance-wise, he wasn't all that impressive; average height, typical facial features, ordinary attire, and a common hairstyle. But for some reason, their was an air of confidence that was exuding from his very being.
The young man let out several puffs of smoke before speaking. "Sup noobies."
With a conceited stride, he approached the group and crouched down. "The name's Boro." he said as he pointed upwards over his head. The puff of smoke he had just exhaled had transformed and slowly turned into his name before quickly dispersing into nothing. "When Tumble isn't around, I usually run this place."
Currently, Boro cared little for what the children thought of him or if they had anything they wanted to say. "Anyway, before our boss gets here, let's try being a little productive. Okay?"
After taking in a deep breath, Boro had let out a massive plume of smoke. Immediately, it branched into at least seven others that began to slowly surrounded everyone before completely spiraling upward towards the ceiling.
"Don't mind all this; think of it as safety measure." The fiendish grin that appeared on Boro's face just made his actions even more questionable for those around him.
"Let's get down to business. You guys are supposed to be turn into heroes, huh?" he slightly scoffed at the thought as he took a quick glimpse at everyone.
"Split into groups, probably three or four of you each in one group seems about right. Whether you like it or not, you're all gonna to end up seeing and working with each other more often than not. So talk amongst yourselves and get to know each other."
Boro turned his back and walked towards one of the corner's within their smoke-like encasement. "Oh, and before I forgot." He abruptly stopped and slight turned his head, showing the rest another one of his dastardly grins. "Whenever any of you feel like you're done, pick someone who you think doesn't deserve to be in this program and head over to me. We don't need any liabilities."
With that, Boro distanced himself from the children, sat on the floor and pulled out his mobile phone.
:
In the latter part of the update, if any of you try to come in contact the smoke, you'll notice that its as hard as steel right now.
Name: Hiroshi Kimura
Alias: Boro
Quirk: White Out | 🆀🆄🅸🆁🅺🆂A special, superhuman ability an individual can possess. Quirks are inherited genetically and typically manifest in children by the age of four, at the latest.
They are generally unique to their user, and are classified in multiple categories.
usually require a conscious effort to activate and grant its user the ability to either release certain substances, or alter materials around them in certain ways.
Blink - A limited teleportation quirk, that allows the user to move a short distances in an instant.
Solar System - The user's personal gravitational field is far stronger than normal and possess some control over it.
Radar - Allows the user to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes in a given area.
Pinball Wizard - A quirk that's loosely connected to magnetism that allows the user to attract and repel any metal object
Freeze Bomb - Allows the user to creates balls of water, that upon exploding, are capable of encasing everything around it in a layer of ice.
Gust - Grants the user the ability to blow wind out of her pores; these are also capable of sucking wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
Spin - Allows the user to spin anything they touch.
allow the user to temporarily alter their body in a variety of manners, sometimes enhancing existing features or perhaps adding new features to the body altogether.
Color Change - A quirk that bestows the user the ability to alter the color of any part of their body.
cause the user to exhibit irregular features that generally have some sort of purpose to them. Whether it be bodily alteration or enhancing preexisting abilities
Canine Aspect - Grants the user characteristics and abilities of a German Shepherd.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from the user's head that have the ability to stretch and grow, which can controlled at will.
Regeneration - The user heals much faster then an average human being.
Calculator - The user of this quirk is genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to one's senses and memory as long as the stimuli is number-related.
Stamina - The user is blessed with an insane amount of endurance, tenacity, and tolerance to pain. They barely need to any form of sustenance and can last days without sleep.
Little Dragon - A quirk that grants characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Sun Wukong/Monkey King - Users share physiology of a monkey or ape, granting them incredible strength, stamina, agility, and the ability to loud howls and yells unlike a human could.
Rubber Muscle Overcharge - A mutation in the user's muscle fibers allows them to build tension when certain movements are performed, granting them increased strength. The user would appear double jointed and almost rubbery. |
8,180 | 221 | 13 | 1,289 | 184 | Jake didn't know what all just happened but he knew one thing - he was hungry. "So Yuki or Ice Dragon we should be on a team mainly cause your the only one here who I've spoken too and I'm hungry and want to get this over with." Jake then looked around at the others. "You have the same hair color as me you should join our group!" As he was saying this he was grabbing Shen-Mu by the hand and pulling her over""Now we need one more who should it be....."
Jake obviously wasn't good at the 'personal space' or 'manners' things but he had no PR skills what so ever. This was completely new to him and he wasn't sure if he was doing it right or not. He only wanted to finish with this and go eat. He quickly turned back to Shen-Mu and with an apologetic tone while letting go of her hand and rubbing the back of his neck he asked "I'm sorry but what was your name?" | Jake "Satan" Vanguard
Male
16
Misunderstood as he is he tries to make friends but of course he's not exactly your good boy type. In most cases he's very random and crazy meaning he could go from having a full on deep conversation to admiring a cool looking rock on the ground. He gets distracted easily and his strange way of viewing things normally pushes people away. He's the type of teen that would stare death straight in the face while seriously asking if he liked cookies or brownies better. Yeah, he's not all there in the head but while common sense is low his street smarts somewhat make up for it with his sarcastic remarks. Needless to say he's wise not intelligent meaning he learns from experience not being taught by someone else or from a book. He won't learn not to stick his hand in a blender simply if you told him, he will learn when he has to make do without a couple fingers for a few weeks.
It started with a man named Roye "Pillar" Vanguard with a quirk of Stamina; meaning he hardly ever got fatigued no matter how strenuous the work (or play) was. And a young woman named Christine "Rainbow" Narson, with a quirk of "Color Change"; meaning she could simply change the color of her eyes, hair, skin and other parts of her body. Two partners in crime living the life of the street, gangs, guns, and fights.
They of course had a son, the outcome of adrenaline and alcohol, to which they named Jake. Now when they were.....wrestling, Christine had changed her hair and eyes to match that of a demon-like creature for.....role play purposes. The outcome was a demonic looking child with a quirk of "Regeneration"; meaning he could heal faster then the average human being. The boy did not possess however the quirk to change his body colors back to normal. Roye and Christine raised the boy to be a fighter so in turn fighting was almost all he knew. He knew the basics like math and how to speak and read, but he hardly ever had to do so. Most of his life was fighting, eating, and being tortured by his "Parents" for he still felt pain and they wanted a senseless fighter with no emotions. There outcome however was a fighter with a twisted mind and even more twisted sense of humor as he began to enjoy the pain they inflicted upon him.
One day during a street fight at the age of 15, over the cheers of the small crowd and threw the blood in his eyes and an ear to ear smile across his face as Jake was still beating his opponents unconscious face in, sirens and lights echoed and bounced off the abandoned warehouses walls. The small crowd including Jake's parents, more like owners as they treated him like an animal, scattered like cockroaches. In turn, Jake ran as well when a thought popped in his mind. He could leave now and not be bound by the people who contained him, he could fight on his own terms and not when he was told and make money for himself instead of being paid in scraps and a blanket on the floor, and he could let his insanity roam free. So he ran without really knowing where he was going and after about a year of living homeless not really staying anywhere for too long, resting in abandoned buildings and other "out of sight out of mind" places, he was off to his next fight.
He normally looked for any good paying fight he could get his hands on but with the growing population of wannabe heroes popping up the fights started becoming harder to find. He was running low on money and he heard word about a new organization in town running fights in an underground arena, so he hooked up with a shady man by the name Kenington and got a fight set up. The day of the fight he arrived at the destination of the said underground arena and all he saw was an empty alley way. As he continued down the alley way police cars swiftly blocked both ends and four men came from above and took him to the ground strapping him in a suit close to the style of a straight jacket, threw him in a police car, and took him to the station. When he arrived at the station they moved him to an isolation room to which he was accompanied by two people. One was the chief of the police force and another was a strange looking person by the name of Tumble.
Regeneration - Jake can heal much faster then an average human being. When wounds would take days to heal for a normal person it would only take him minutes depending on the injury. If its a small cut or scrape, it won't take more then a minute or so where as a broken bone will take a day or two to fully heal. The draw back however is that he can't regenerate from death and the the weaker he is - tired, hungry, or seriously wounded - the longer it takes for him to regenerate and its kinda a given but he does age. Regeneration doesn't stop him in his prime. He also uses up energy fast so he's almost always eating because if he doesn't, he drops like a rock and his wounds won't heal for if you don't have the proteins or minerals for your body to function, his regenerative abilities won't either.
Hand to Hand Combat - He's not trained in any particular style of fighting or weaponry, however, he is exceptional in close quarters combat and excels with his fists.
The police chief stated "I could take you to jail for the various assaults, attempts of murder, and violation of government property specifically peeing on the outside wall of the police station and painting a male sex organ on the hood of a police car.", to which Jake replied "Hey that was art.", "but I've got a better idea." the chief continued "This person here is gonna take you somewhere real nice. It's a little place where there gonna clean up your act and teach you to be a model citizen." both the Tumble person and police chief smiled as he finished."Now you gotta be joking, there ain't no way there gonna turn me into a goody two shoes you must be smoking something. By the way either of you got a light I could use a cigarette" "Oh I'm not when there done with you your gonna be the little angel of our town so pack your bags buttercup it's a long trip". To which Jake replied "The only angel here is you chief, why don't you just go su......" The insult was quickly silenced with the butt of a rifle to the side of Jake's head and off he went to his new home with a strange looking woman named Tumble. |
8,181 | 221 | 14 | 1,774 | 401 | Noisy reporters, noisier students: Shouichi was already growing disgusted with the whole arrangement. Every so often he shuffled a bit closer to the door, a part of him wanting to be thankful for the more boisterous students who commanded attention, directing it well away from him. The only tiny detail keeping him from actually being thankful was that they were just as bad, some of them falling into that pace willin-
Rustle rustle
The slight movement from the flowering bush nearby made Shou jump making him take a rather wheezy intake of breath. Patting his chest to still his beating heart, he moved away, looking around in hopes that no one was looking, before moving to a passive stance. Glancing up at the door, he considered going in as a few others went for it, but he didn't want to get attention from anyone. Better to just...
A prescence made itself known to him. While the other students and some relative distance to each other, someone had come to stand in a rather close proximity. Turning his head ever so slightly, he glimpsed a head of long, dark hair.
Eyes bulging, he averted his eyes as quickly as feasible, body going rigid. No. No way, it couldn't be... A girl? Swallowing, he dared steal another glance, this time spotting a bit of her face and glasses. She wasn't paying him much mind, yet there she stood.
Whaaaaaat is this? I don't get it: there's plenty of room back here but why is she so cloooose? D-did she not see me? But there's no one else this close to me. So if someone takes a picture...doesn't she realize I'll probably be in it too? Unless...she wants that? Could it be she...wants...
Shou bit the inside of his mouth. Nononono, don't you go down the road of thinking about 3D like that. Don't you dare. She can't have noticed me. Of course not, I have no presence. The reporters aren't bothering me, my mom's gone, no one cares...like I don't exist at all... As his eyes glazed over at his existential line of though, he suddenly lit up as he realized, Maybe I can just walk right out and no one would know!
As he stood there, closing his eyes, his mind allowed him to get back to his room as he imagined what he was going to do the moment he got back: the swathes of media avaliable to him... True bliss.
As the shape of the noise around him changed, he suddenly opened his eyes, only to be blinded by whiteness. As his cry of fright joined the others, before his panicked lungs met smoke, he didn't have much time to ruminate before finding himself spirited away.
---
Laying flat, arms and legs pinned together by his own unwillingness to move, once Shou recovered his breath, he shakily stood, the students being instructed by a shockingly average man.
As Boro finished his little orientation, Shou found himself letting out a sigh of derision. Groups. It haaaaad to be groups.
Shou knew groups. Small circles of friend-oh wait, he didn't know groups like that, nor did he know groups picked for the competence of its members. Shou only knew the 'leftovers', unless the teacher took pity on him and let him work alone. Beyond those fortunate days, he only knew groups of friends outcast by a smaller size requirement, delinquents who decided to attend class that day, and other disinterested losers such as himself. Expectations low, he sidled off to the side, avoiding as many paths as possible, waiting for his fellow leftovers to be kicked out to the curb, his face still frumpy at the mere thought of 'groups'. | Shouichi Sakihata
Male
15
Shou doesn't like to speak. Not because he has nothing to say: on the contrary, he could go for hours if it was on a favorite topic of his. But rather, because he doesn't, he's something of a stuttering mess when he does speak, even as derision is more likely to stay his tongue than shyness. His mind is a place of bitterness, where he guesses and second guesses his place and those around him, paranoia often guiding his actions and words.
Hot blooded cries for victory, metal fists bashing against each other, fires of passion burning red: Shou didn't have a clue what was going on, but the pure spirit and heart captured in the last episode of a classic mech show rerun affected Shou deeply, even when he had no context to go on. To say it changed his life wouldn't be an understatement: he'd always liked anime and manga, but in comparison, it just seemed like kid's stuff after his revelation. But as he tried to share his love, the fourth grade Shouichi was without luck. His father was always getting ready for work or too exhausted from it, his mother had a placid reaction to just about everything, and his older brother was utterly disinterested, focused on his studies. Such a boring, normal family: it was hard to imagine they all had Quirks. But in trying to introduce his classmates to his newfound interest, he was similarly rebuked. But even though he had no one to connect with, he couldn't simply stop enjoying it. The internet served as an outlet, allowing him even more exposure to the world he'd discovered, finding fans, other series... As he engrossed himself in that sphere, he was starting to find the idea of school and friends a bit overrated.
As he entered middle school, his days were spent merely wondering when he could back home, and when he was home, Shou would stay up late into the night on his computer. When his mother because impatient with his lack of interest as the two of them ate their dinner in the otherwise empty house (husband working, brother off to college), she simply started taking meals to him. And as Shou realized a strict, daily attendance wasn't mandatory as long as he kept his grades up (something he found all too easy at his local public school), and left his room even less frequently. For him it was bliss: all the media right at his fingertips, food delivered right to his door. He didn't even see her any more unless he was going to school, often timing his bathroom breaks to avoid her.
Then, as Shou entered his final year of middle school, his father pushed his way in, making a change. To Shou, it came from nowhere: had his seclusion actually bothered his parents that much? But he wasn't allowed room to argue as he was stripped of his access to their funds directly and cut off from his mother's cooking. No longer could he buy games digitally or order anime or manga: he was only allowed cash, given a bit more to account for food. "No shipping costs," his dad reasoned, adding that it was pointless for his mother to slave over home cooked meals she couldn't see be enjoyed. It was heavy handed, but Shou was too stubborn to let this affect him. He was still going to school, so forcing himself to interact with people wasn't an issue, and buying convenience store food was more of a plus in his eyes since he was no longer restricted to any schedule. Now, his nights involved trips out to spend some of his allowance, his room quickly became even more cluttered with garbage from instant meals and snacks.
It was a game, and he was winning. Never mind that he'd manipulated his schedule to avoid his parents, fearing their judging eyes. Ignore that he spent most of school past homeroom eating in bathroom stalls or sleeping in the nurse's office. Put aside the 30 pounds he gained from eating junk food unchecked. His habits were more than enough for him to get by. He could live like this forever...
Continued in Sample Post.
Blink - A limited teleportation Quirk, Shou is able to teleport a short distance in an instant, no more than five meters, and anything beyond three is pushing his embarrassing endurance to its limits. A Blink is accompanied by a light 'jerk', and the slight pops of displaced air, both as he creates a small vacuum where he once stood and as displaces the air where he appears. The 'jerk' is the light kinetic force that results from pulling himself through space, and serves as his limitations (as in, if he's up against something stronger than that force, he could be in trouble). Anything 'grabbing' him, like clothing or another person, will come along for the ride, unless the force is not that great. A leaf laying on his head has no grip, thus will hang over empty air once he's gone. Something heavy laying down on him, or someone with their hand around their throat, will no doubt come along as well. Though in some situations this might be desirable, the added weight adds strain to every Blink, regardless of whether he wants to bring it along or not. As for the point of his arrival, that light force also determines if the teleportation will be successful. Air, water, or other light fluids will be displaced around him as he appears because they are light enough to be pushed aside. This even goes for light solids like mud or leaves, but something like packed dirt or stone is to tough for him to Blink into. As a general rule of thumb, if a normal person can't run a hand through it, he can't Blink into it. And should he try, he won't appear within it, instead only going as far as the surface, bounced back as if he'd walked straight into it. Moving to the other side of something is well within his capabilities though, but if he can't see the other side he might be in for a surprise. Due to Shou's endurance, he can only teleport every ten seconds or so without getting overly winded. Rapid successions might leave him collapsed on the ground gasping for air.
In theory, further practice will not only decrease the cooldown time, but increase his range and force as well. If it is possible to change his orientation (for example, vanishing while facing one direction and appearing while facing another) then he has yet to display this potential.
Otaku Aficionado – Shou knows his way back and forth the internet domains of nerd cultures, having great depth in some very specific fields of knowledge. His general computer usage skills might lead to him finding more general information, software, or programs faster than most others on average,
That's It – Really.
Letting out a stiff yawn, Shouichi double clicked an icon, a game title screen popping up after a few moments. He beamed in pride, taking in the altered art for a few moments, having 100%ed it just earlier today. He didn't want to play right now, he just wanted to bask. After the title song finally wound down, he closed the application, before eyeing a folder on his desktop: a show he'd already watched half of, and his heart stirred as he imagined knocking out the rest of it once he awoke.
Turning off his monitor, he slipped off his chair, knocking aside a few loose food packages, before flopping onto his futon. Pulling his dakimura closer, he let the warmth encompass him. Closing his eyes, he'd never been more fulfil-
BANG BANG BANG
Hopping up, he gasped, "Wh-wh-wh-wh-what?"
The door crawled open, each creak sending a pang of fear into his heart. Looking up, he saw his father looking down at him, nose crinkling at the barrage of scents he'd no doubt just encountered. He spoke, but his voice was...blurry? Was that even possible?
"You're up early this morning: for school I hope?" he asked. Shou didn't have the energy to disappoint him. "I wanted to talk about your high school choices. You won't have to worry, I've enrolled you to an institution..." He seemed to sense Shou's fatigue. "...It's headed by a Hero named Tumble." Shou's head rocked back and forth, wobbling with his consciousness. The man let out a sigh of defeat, saying, "I'll brief you later then. Good night."
As the door closed, Shou flopped down, eyes fluttering shut, a few words passing through his brain. School... Institution... Tumble... Tumble the Hero? Very funny, Shou wasn't Hero material by a longshot. But if he were...to be sent to...
Shou shot up like a rocket. "Ehhhh?" he shuddered fearfully, sweat beading on his forehead. He gripped his body pillow tighter, which was the least heroic thing he could possibly imagine anyone doing... |
8,182 | 221 | 15 | 1,010 | 272 | Yuki simply nodded at Jake, then held out his hand. A bubble formed in it, a sphere of water held in his hand. And Yuki was about to toss it at the reporters. It wouldn't hurt them, but if they were making people uncomfortable, he supposed it could help. And he wouldn't mind getting his face on the front page. Before he got the chance, he was shrouded in a thick fog. The next thing he knew, he was inside, staring at the one who had caused it. He pulled himself up, dusting himself off. And then he was in Jake's group. He was being physically pulled, but he didn't even bat an eyelash.
"Chill. You'll tear someone's arm off." He said, a smile on his face. He turned to the white haired girl. "Name's Yuki. His name's apparently Satan." He scanned the room, before settling on the bush girl before. "Hey, you should join our group." He said to her, a slight smile on his face.
"I don't think it matters. I've got this test figured out." He said, returning to the other two, a grin on his face as he tapped his head. "I saw it in an anime once. The premise is we're supposed to vote someone off." He said. "But that doesn't add up. What would that test? Being able to betray people a few seconds after meeting them isn't exactly a 'skill.'" | Yuki Takamine
Male
15
Yuki comes across as a friendly, outgoing young man, if a bit cocky and arrogant. He likes to fight, and he desires strength above all else, though he's not telling why. Despite his somewhat inflated ego, he's not particularly selfish. He just thinks he's the coolest dude. To be fair, he's very good at keeping his composure. His reactions to most things are very understated. It's not that he doesn't have feelings, it's just that he's not very noisy about them.
Born to a quirkless mother and a father with a minor ice-based quirk, Yuki grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father was, as far as Yuki knew, a businessman. He didn't see dad very much, because he was gone most of the time. He mostly just did whatever he felt like, and had no particular goals or ambitions until that fateful day. When he was seven, his mother took him along on an errand to a bank, and it just so happened it was being robbed by a villain. He watched as a person was killed, and he was afraid his mother and him would be next...But then a hero appeared and saved them. Ever since, he wanted to be a hero. He started training his powers, and hoped to be accepted into one of the many hero academies.
He thought his dream had ended when he turned 14, however. His father was arrested. It turned out he wasn't a businessman: He was the supervillain Hypothermia, wanted for several murders. Yuki was now a known criminal element, and it seemed he now had no hope of being accepted into any of the academies.
Then he heard about Tumble...
Freeze Bomb - Yuki holds out his hand, and a perfectly formed ball of what looks like water forms in his hand. It takes about a second. The ball bursts from even a small amount of force: Doing much more than squeezing it will cause it to explode, encasing everything within about 10 feet of it in an inch of ice. It also freezes any water in this area solid. Yuki is not immune to this effect: If he drops one of the orbs, it'll freeze him too. The ice it creates is totally normal, and it can be broken, albeit only with quite a bit of force.
Ice Skating - Yuki is quite agile on ice: He can slide around on it fairly well. No fancy tricks, but he can outmaneuver most people on an icy floor. He doesn't even need skates.
Pitcher - Yuki was in Little League, and he can throw pretty well. This means he can get good range out of his ice bombs.
Hand-to-Hand - Yuki has been in a fair number of fights. He's not amazing or anything, but he can throw a proper punch and probably hold his own in a scuffle. Without his powers, he'd probably lose against a trained martial artist, but not before getting a few good hits in.
Yuki looked over the sheet of paper. It had a list of high schools he'd been accepted into. It was embarrassingly short. Only two. He'd expected as much. He'd never been a good student, and had been hoping to get by on his powers and become a hero. Ever since his father had been arrested, he just hadn't had it in him to keep trying.
"It's not like I have much of a choice. Really, I don't know if I have much of a fut-" He said, then spotted the second name on the list. Huh. So he had been accepted into a hero academy. "Tumble?" He asked, holding the paper in his hand and studying it carefully. A miracle, before his eyes. "Sign me up for this one." He said, nodding.
Nope. |
8,183 | 221 | 16 | 1,788 | 448 | She was someplace, then she was another place, consumed by an unseen force her radar just couldn't quite get through. Some sort of smoke or dust? Dizzied, she brushed herself off and surveyed the area. Someone not from the original group was talking to them, a ninth person. The source of the smoke?
Boro...
She'd remember that. If he wanted them to talk to others, who should she go for first. She considered her options, trying to pick out the one that she interpreted as less threatening or weird. But, before she could do anything, she was grabbed by one of them.
"Mm..." This one scared her. Loud, abrasive, rude... Even as he apologized, she felt a tinge of uncertainty about being in a group with him. Guess it couldn't be helped. Rubbing her hand, she answered softly, despite her uncertainty about this, her expression and tone conveyed little emotion. "Shen-Mu... You are Satan? A devil? ...Or, a human wearing a demon's skin?"
Another man, this one had a much more friendly tone. Carried himself with a more friendly manner. Yes... This one wasn't as scary. "Thank you, Yuki." A girl of few words, she went silent for bit, as if done with the conversation. She noticed another one had joined the group To everyone else, those who could look at the bush girl, she was a girl covered in vines. But to Shen-Mu, who "saw" things through her radar, saw her as a odd cloud of movement, unable to make-out what she was.
But then, she spoke up. "To vote someone off. To see them as a liability. Not a heroic thing to do..." She turned in Boro's general direction, focusing her radar to pick up on him. "That one is testing us?" | This image doesn't fully match the appearance I have in mind for her. She has shorter hair and her eyes are grey in color. Maybe a bit messier. But other than that it matches her appearance.
Shen-Mu Haumea
Female
16
Shen-Mu is quiet and soft spoken, usually only speaking if she needs to or if spoken to. When she does,she'll either say a short few words or go off on a tangent. Despite her lack of speaking, she is noticeably confident in her words and doesn't hold back her opinions on things.
Shen-Mu is the daughter of a infamous thief and a foreign woman, her foreign name being the sign of her heritage.
While her father put in the effort to raise his child from infancy to a young girl, his life of crime and her life began to cross into one another as she reached her teen years. While her body was physically weak and frail, her quirk proved to be useful to him and his colleagues, willing to take advantage of a innocent young girl. So she served as a navigator for them on their heists. Telling them wear to go, what paths were safe. It wasn't until a local hero managed to find her and took her in, resulting in the capture of her rather and his friends. Due to her age and not fully understanding what she was doing, she got the least amount of punishment among the people involved in these heists.
Now, she mostly bides her time under the supervision of a few more trustworthy individuals. Living in a boarding house. She doesn't leave the house much, unless she has someone with her. Despite her blindness, she has taken up skills in painting, mostly nature paintings.
She fantasizes that one day, she'll be useful to one or more person, someone that won't take advantage of her as her father did. She wishes that she wouldn't be seen as a mere tool but rather a person.
Radar - Radar: Despite Shen-Mu's blindness, she doesn't have an issue navigating or knowing the world around her thanks to her quirk. Her radar ability allows her to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes. As if she possessed a thousand invisible arms, reaching out and feeling the world around her. The usual range of it is about 15 meters in radius, in a dome shape around her. When she meditates and zones out, she is able to further extend the range of it.
However, the quirk isn't without its drawbacks, other than its lack of combat ability it gives her. First off, while it allows her to navigate the world without sight, things such as screens, writing, and distant objects outside of her range, she is blind to as any other blind person would be. Second, her power isn't selective with what it can sense. If there is a ton of small objects flying through the air, such as rain, heavy snowfall, smoke, dust, or other debris, it causes a sort of interference with her powers; as she calls it "white noise."
When in use, her hair and clothes hover in the air as if she is underwater and her eyes take on a sonar like appearance, although they retain their grey color.
Painting: - To the surprise of others, she picked up painting. Due to being a shut in, she had a lot of time to practice. Most of her paintings are things outside her window, painted in greys for the most part.
Enhanced senses Her hearing is rather potent, but not to the level of animal based quirks. Her hearing became more potent to compensate for her blindness.
Navigation: Her power is more useful for when she's acting as support. Able to tell people where to go or where it's safe. She prefers to stay out of combat anyways.
Shen-Mu sat in her room, surrounded by her paintings. A painting of a tree, a painting of a car, a painting of a her bedroom. Her next one was going to be of the corner outside her window. Concentrating, she focused her quirk, trying to extend its range, littel by little... Then she had it. But that wasn't the only thing she sense, there was someone just outside her door.
"Come in." she said, putting down her brush, her concentration broken. Soon, a large man stepped forward, man just about a decade older than her. From his appearance, he had some sort of insect based quirk. He could be thought of as a caretaker of sorts for her.
"I hate it when you do that." he said, holding a letter in his hand.
"I hate it when people get ready to barge into my room. Barge into it without knocking. You were going to do that weren't you?"
"...I was going to knock." He said, correcting her, his brow surrounding. Ignoring the girl's quips, he held the letter out in front of her, touching her shoulder with it so he was sure she was aware of it. "See this? You know what this is?"
To which the blind girl answered with the obvious answer. "...It's a envelope. From the size of it there is another paper in it. Could you kindly read it to me?" She said, waving her hand in front of her face, to remind her caretaker of her lack of ability to read.
"Right, sorry." The man said, taking out the note, and reading it out loud. He went into it, information about a woman who went by Tumble, a special program of sorts collecting sorts of troublemakers and misfits to become heroes, and even some info on Shen-Mu herself... As he finished the man lowered the note, staring at the young albino.
"...Listen. Shen, I know about your father, what he made you do, your little criminal record..." he said, rubbing his chin, uncertain. "I know you want to be useful to someone in the future but-"
"But what?" Shen-Mu quickly replied, picking up a small paintbrush, idly painting out a picture of the opened envelope as it sat lying on the shelf next to her. "I know you cheat on your girlfriend. The woman from the floor below? Who is she? Maybe it's the other way around?"
"Shen!" The man said, angered at the intrusion of privacy, "Don't tell anyone! It's not what you think!"
"I don't have to tell anyone." She said, having not taken her eyes off her canvas this whole conversation. "No one will know. Not either girl. On the condition that you let me go." As she finished her declaration, she finished her sketch, the envelope nicely painted out. "The blind painter. Doomed to never truly enjoy her art. Sad, isn't it, Kei?"
Kei held the letter in his hand, confused, blackmailed, and just slightly grateful at the chance to get the girl out of the house.
Her pale skin, sensitivity to the sun, and pale colored hair are all due to albinism. Her father is Japanese, but her mother isn't, because her name is Pacific East Islander in origin, it gives indication of what her heritage is. |
8,184 | 221 | 17 | 40 | 113 | With
~Teaming up~
BGM
Nori would have been dishonest if she didn't admit to being surprised when the white smoke engulfed the students, even letting out a squeal of fear; she hoped that nobody noticed it.
One moment she was acting tough, the next she was standing in front of a short guy along with the rest of the class.
The midget introduced himself as Boro, a rather odd name; it was most likely a hero name. In any case, his quirk had already begun to encompass them all, and Nori did not like it for one bit; if this was supposed to be an introduction, Boro sure as hell wasn't doing a good job at it.
She took a look around and noticed that the smoke had already completely sealed of any exit; if Boro's plan was to imprison the students, it made sense considering the risks, but surely this smoke couldn't hold them at bay.
Nori's eyes flared back towards the smoking guy when a command had been given. Yet picking a team hadn't exactly caught Nori's attention; throwing out a person of her liking did. A very curious decision to make even when they had never even seen the students in action.
And how could she decide who was unworthy if she hadn’t met them before? She immediately decided to not vote at all, only when someone did prove unworthy, would she name them.
Fenrir raised an eyebrow at this Boro fellow, requesting everyone to pick someone to get kicked off the team seemed like a trap, but he should still try to form a team, that part seemed safe. He looked around, and decided to walk towards Nori confidently, "So, want to team up? Your options are pretty limited, and I don't think you're the kind of person to team up with the house plant or Loca Diablo. If you don't want to, that is fine. I know when I am unwanted."
Already, someone flocked towards Nori, maybe her entrance really did impress some of the students. The fellow talking to her had some canine features, which looked kinda neat in Nori's eyes; their usefulness was a different story, but appearance-wise, it sure was a cool quirk.
It's too bad that his personality didn't really impress her, underestimating everyone around him, probably offending the 'house plant' and 'Loca Diablo'. It made her wonder why her off all people was the choice for someone who thought so low of the rest. The dog ears looked neat though, so she folded her arms, put a naughty smile on her face, looked Fenrir directly in the eyes and decided to reward his bold and fearless attitude with an equally bold answer.
"You know, for someone who 'knows when he is unwanted', you sure tend to dismiss the rest of this bunch easily. Don't you think you should first give them a chance to show their strengths? And if I am the only capable person in this room, then why should I choose you?" Despite her fierce demeanor, she wasn't actually trying to provoke Fenrir or get rid of him, she was just testing out how he would react to someone with an ego just as big as his; she was already looking forward to team up with Fenrir.
Fenrir just put a slight grin on his face and looked back at her right in the eyes, First things first, I don't think I caught your name and it was rude of me to not start with that. Mine is Fenrir." he said, slightly sarcastically.
Fenrir had certainly caught Nori's attention by now, he was not backing off, and if Nori was going to keep up she couldn't back off either. Putting a hand on her hip and approaching a more relaxed posture, she calmly replied, a smile still apparent,
"Fenrir huh? As in the mythological dog? A fitting name-"
She said while throwing out a high pitched chuckle. "If we are to introduce ourselves, you can call me Nori Azami, choose whichever you prefer."
With the introductions done, Nori didn't wait for a response from Fenrir, but simply strode towards the wall of smoke. And upon reaching it, she placed her right hand on it noticing that it was as hard as steel. She took a deep breath and released a gust of wind from her hand.
It had no effect at all. Upon looking back towards Fenrir she posed the next question.
"So I guess we have to play along with Boro for now, go ahead and choose someone else to join our team."
"Legendary Wolf." he said, still with a slight grin. "As for your questions Nori, maybe I am miss-judging the house plant, but it is not how strong she is, it is how she carries herself. It does not matter how strong you are if you are just going to cower in a corner when it does come down to fighting. And Devil-boy, I know he is strong, I heard about some of his street fights, the problem with him is that he is crazy. Finally about the whole "I know when I am not wanted." that is mostly because I don't like stuck up people, so any more questions?"
Nori's expression turned a bit bored upon hearing Fenrir try to justify his words, but the words were said; no use trying to cover them up, even though the arguments were plausible and Fenrir clearly used his brain.
"Yeah, actually, before you go off and fetch our last team member, why did you choose to answer the invitation? Don't answer me right now, just think about it and tell me when you're ready. I don't care who you choose, so...go with your heart." Her last words were a bit more humane and compassionate than prior, and she looked Fenrir in the eyes once more, this time with a confident gaze.
Fenrir looked around, "What about her?" he said, nodding his head towards Reina. "I will see if she is in." he said walking towards her. | Name:
Nori Azami
Gender:
Female
Age:
16
Personality:
If you catch her on a normal day, she comes off as calm and collected, usually paired with a soft smile and relaxed attitude. She doesn’t hide her emotions and always lets them flow yet rarely let’s anyone upset her, which extends to dire situations as well.
She is not afraid to show her opinion, nor getting into a fight, even though she might lose.
The reason for that is because she is very competitive. Not backing off whenever she gets challenged and occasionally challenging others is a regular occurrence for her because she sees them as games to win and her emotions easily take over from there.
Her social life is not very special; she might be known but not exactly popular. She is liked by most but not loved. She does have friends that she cares for and that care for her, not a lot and not too few. Her family is also close to her heart, and them and Nori’s friends usually don’t mind her competitive attitude whenever it emerges.
Nori enjoys school because it challenges her every day and because of it, she excels at it. her mind is sharp and only gets cloudy when winning a challenge appears out of reach in which case she becomes fierce and reckless (which happens more than she’d like to admit).
Lastly, her hobbies are nonexistent because she does whatever challenges her the most at that time, only moving on when she feels like she has won.
Backstory:
Nori has always lived with her parents as a single child; she has had an ordinary life right up till she found out about U.A. high school. As soon as she heard it was the most prestigious school around, where only the best of the best got in, she knew where she wanted to go. It was the one thing that consistently drove her forward, not ever slowing down till she passed middle school.
But then her application got rejected; her parents went behind her back and told the school to deny the application because they didn’t want her to become a hero. Nori never found out, but instead of finding a normal school for a normal job, like her parents wanted her to, she did nothing, her motivation was gone and she didn’t know what to do.
And that is when she received the invitation.
Quirk:
Gust: Nori’s quirk allows her to blow Wind out of her pores, and the pores can also suck wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
she can control which pores shoot out air and which suck it in with full control, although the maximum output right now can only break branches and push someone over with considerable force(beaufort scale 8(it's like "fuz roh dah" from skyrim in its second stage))
Skills:
Ego: Nori is very confident in her abilities, and that boost automatically gives her an edge.
Inquisitor: Her sharp mind is quite deductive, and it makes her a versatile opponent. Being able to read a battlefield and the person on the opposite end is another edge for Nori.
Jock: Because she has taken on many different kinds of sports, she is in quite a good shape, nothing Olympic, but better than the average person.
Sample Post:
It was a few days after she had been rejected by U.A.
The denial still hurt and Nori had been very emotionally unstable ever since.
She wanted to get in and that meant being better, but no matter where she searched, she couldn’t find a way to improve herself other than going to U.A. It was infuriating to know that a whole year would pass before she could apply again, a whole year without a game to win, without a challenge to surpass. It left a sore taste in her mouth every day she woke up.
Her parents had been worried about her a lot, offering many different schools for her to apply to, yet none of them appealed to her, none of them could match the school that even All Might went to. But then, after weeks of chaos and madness, an e-mail arrived.
The contents of the mail turned Nori upside down; it was like they knew what had happened to her, like it was somehow fate. Nori had been chosen to attend some sort of school for those who want a chance to compete with the best. After sitting in her chair reading the mail three times in a row, she suddenly jumped up in the air squeaking like a squirrel. Her heart lit up like a Christmas tree and for the rest of the day, a constant smile was plastered to her face. Yet when she told her parents, they were not happy at all, they tried to, but Nori could see the fear behind their eyes. Maybe they didn’t trust the mail, maybe they were afraid to send Nori away, and it didn’t matter.
Nori was going, no matter whom or what was gonna try to stop her, she was going.
So that night, she packed whatever she could carry, wrote a note for her parents, and left.
Others:
None |
8,185 | 221 | 18 | 695 | 383 | How did the story go? Alice fell down the rabbit hole, and was lost in a world of madness.
A foreign tale, but one Shuko found herself thinking of as the seething swarms of the media were blanketed in clouds of pale smoke, which billowed out from the agency with a suddenness that could only have been caused by a Quirk. There was little she could do but relax and let the ghostly mass wrap itself around her and pull her away.
Out of her old life, and into the wild and terrifying unknown.
Which, she discovered a few seconds later as she knelt on a hard floor, was guarded by an average-looking guy with a somewhat patronizing tone. The moment they arrived, Boro launched straight into a monologue, which Shuko did her best to follow while coughing up smoke and rubbing at her eyes, accidentally knocking her glasses off in the process. She yelped at this, fumbling about for a few seconds before snatching them up again.
Slowly rising to her feet, she took a moment to wipe them on her sweatshirt, clearing away any dust or smoke particles that had stuck to them. The motion revealed a hint of pink cloth under the larger garment, a flash of color peeking out from beneath the dull exterior for just a moment before it was covered up again.
Once she had her glasses on, she blinked, and glanced about, doing her best to figure out this new situation.
It wasn't so nightmarish as it had been outside, but neither was it a time to relax. Boro's instructions were as vague as they were worrying, especially that last comment of his. Was he trying to turn the students against each other? Or was it some kind of test? Shuko frowned, contemplating for a moment, before remembering the prior instructions. Right. Groups. That part made sense, at least, even if it filled her with the same anxiety she'd felt with the media before.
A roomful of weirdos, and she had to find her place amongst them.
The guy she'd been standing with before had wandered away from everyone else, and she glanced his way, feeling a momentary pang of sympathy. On some level she wanted to do the same, just stay away until she was grouped up by process of elimination.
On the other hand, she wanted this opportunity. Needed this opportunity, if she was going to break free from what she'd done before. If she let her own insecurities get in the way of something this simple, how the fuck would she manage when they got to the actual training?
Get your shit together, Shuko.
Some groups were already forming, obvious enough that even she could see them. Mr. Satan had somehow recruited a cute guy, a ghost, and a walking plant. That made four, so no space there, even if she was a little tempted by the one calling himself Yuki.
She looked away, suddenly conscious of her own place in the room. Focus.
The other gathering team consisted of the dog-eared boy and a girl she hadn't seen before- one with an unusual but quite charming aesthetic. That was scary. She seemed nice, but she was also pretty, and having her in the room made Shuko look and feel even shittier than she already did, simply by virtue of comparison.
So that left the chubby kid and one other she could see, a pale guy carrying two bags packed full of what looked like random junk. Weird, but she could deal with it. Shuko steeled her nerves a little, swallowed, then walked over, a little too briskly.
"Hello? I'm Shuko." So far, so good. "Um... you're not in a group yet, right? There aren't many of us left."
Come on. Just say it.
Taking a breath, she blurted out her request. "Team up with me."
She'd been trying to sound confident, but pushed it too far, and the words came out too loud, less a request and more like a command. She shrunk back a little, realizing her mistake. "If you don't mind, that is?"
( Talking to Tommy) | Shuko Toma
Female
16
Shuko's a daydreamer, a girl who always seems to have something going on in her head. In the right situation, she's both imaginative and thoughtful, but the frenetic pace of life often pushes her to retreat into herself rather than fully express these qualities. She's disorganized, even careless, with untamed hair and a disjointed, eclectic fashion sense that never seems to quite click. A textbook introvert, she feels nervous around other people and somewhat inept socially, a flaw that she despises in herself but has little idea how to correct. She's quiet and very obedient, to the point where it's almost too easy to push her around- a weakness which has proven dangerous of late.
For most of her childhood, Shuko was raised by a single father. She doesn't remember her mother nor where the woman went, and has learned not to broach the subject with her remaining parent. Her dad has always been fair and affectionate, but he's also had to work full-time while trying to care for a child, and though the familial love is there, the situation has created something of a disconnect. Sensitive to the stress her parent was under, Shuko has always done her best to avoid sharing problems with him- but the lack of conventional family dynamics and her somewhat introverted nature left her with nobody else to go to.
Academically, she performed incredibly well during her earlier years, especially once her Quirk emerged and began to develop. Her potential was noted by important figures, and it became a source of pride for her. Unfortunately, it was also noted by her peers. Shuko was marked as a target for bullying and harassment, a situation only exacerbated by her apparent inability to fight back. Rather than seek help from authority, she withdrew further, hiding her talents and doing her best to escape unwanted attention. It worked, to some extent, but as a result her marks dropped down to just above average, and Shuko was still plagued by a bad reputation among her fellow students. Cut off even further, she found some solace in art and literature, as well as her Quirk- the one thing about herself that she still valued.
So when she was approached by a business that had noted her early talents and wanted to hire her for part-time work, she jumped at the chance. The job was easy enough: someone wanted her to manage and distribute funds, a task that was easily accomplished with her Quirk. Once her employers had taught her the basics of what they wanted her to do, she played her part perfectly, taking home a decent salary for relatively light hours and enjoying the opportunity to use her talents to their fullest, even if she was working largely behind the scenes. It seemed she'd finally found herself a place in the world.
Then the police came knocking at the door.
As it turned out, the "business" that had recruited Shuko was of the less-than-legitimate variety, and had exploited her number-crunching ability to help manage illegally obtained funds, turning money into more money through both simple investment and various financial loopholes. She'd been a completely unwitting accomplice to a number of serious crimes, and was dragged into court with little but her own testimony to defend her.
In the end she was found innocent, in part because nobody could believe such a harmless girl could possibly be a cunning criminal. Still, her sense of stability was shattered, she'd missed weeks of classes while on trial, and her bad reputation was soured still further. The law might have let her go, but rumors spread relentlessly among teachers, students, and even her father's colleagues. Surrounded on every side by whispers and suspicion, she shut down entirely. No more school, no more friends, no more life. She'd failed. She was done.
It was her father who pushed her towards an alternative. Shuko didn't know much about Tumble, or particularly care, but it was this or the psych ward. Becoming a hero was a foolish dream, but at least the attempt might earn her some form of redemption.
Calculator - Shuko is a genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to her senses and memory: she can identify the exact dimensions of an object at a glance, and can perfectly recall numbers and measurements, juggling hundreds of digits in her head with little need for pen or paper. This often works at a subconscious level with few visible effects, but when she puts it into intensive use the blood flow to her brain massively increases, causing the veins in her neck and face to bulge outwards.
Unfortunately, this excellent memory doesn't extend beyond mathematics: she forgets non-numerical concepts easily unless reminded. She can remember the width of someone's eyes down to the millimeter a year after having met them, but will likely forget their name within a minute. Additionally, she has trouble concentrating on ordinary tasks or situations. Everything around her offers numbers for calculations that her mind performs almost instinctively, and it's often hard for her to keep track of the real world, especially when her quirk is under heavy use.
Artist - One of the few ways Shuko can fully express herself is through drawing and painting. She's not good nor renowned enough to be featured in galleries, but is still noticeably talented for a high school student. She's also a decent pianist.
Animals - She's pretty bad with people, but gets along well with animals. They seem to like her, and she's patient and gentle with them in return.
Endurance - Shuko has never been one for sports, but she does exercise somewhat. Her build is slight, and she's still pretty weak in terms of lifting strength, but she can keep up a moderate level of physical activity for hours if necessary.
The rachis, or shaft, of a flight feather branches along its length into hundreds of barbs, often of asymmetrical length but always aligned on opposite sides of the rachis. In turn, the sides of each barb are layered with tiny barbules...
Shuko's eyes moved slowly and silently over the page, picking out each word with dazed indifference. She'd been staring at her book for over an hour now, sometimes reading, sometimes logging the heights and widths of the printed letters and noting their individual surface areas. Didn't matter which, really. It was something to do, something to lose herself in for a little while longer.
She shifted slightly, blinking as she realized she'd reached the end of a page, then deftly turned it over.
...many of which are in turn covered by minuscule hooks. These allow the barbules to interlock with one another, forming small connections which hold the barbs together, effectively forming a single cohesive surface...
She was idly adding up the areas of each punctuation mark in the last two sentences when a noise caught her attention. A footstep, someone entering the room. Its exact volume in decibels popped up somewhere in the midst of her thoughts as she turned around, staring through overlarge glasses at her father.
She should say something. Her mind grasped for ideas, clawing desperately at anything she could shove through her mouth to break the silence. A few incoherent syllables were bundled together and shoved up her throat, and she blurted out, "I'm-"
Just as her father opened his mouth to speak. "There's-"
Their words collided, waves of sound overlapping and causing a dozen separate calculations to spark off in Shuko's head. They both stopped. Then her father gestured, indicating that she should go first.
She shook her head, voice barely above a whisper. "It was nothing. Please, go on."
He paused for a second, as if hoping she'd change her mind, then nodded. "There's a letter for you. I know you... that you need some time right now, but I think you need to read this. It's not the kind of opportunity that comes often."
He was trying to pique her interest, she could tell. He failed. Still, when he held out a neatly folded sheet of paper, she took it. Shuko didn't care who had written it or what it said, but she didn't want to disappoint him. Not again, not after everything that had happened.
It was clean, neat, official. She unfolded it carefully, letting her eyes drift over it, if only for the sake of formality.
Then her gaze sharpened. She blinked, narrowed her eyes, then sped up, racing through each sentence with a growing disbelief. For the first time since everything had broken down, she felt something, a hint of drive beneath layers of despair. Curiosity. True or not, what was on this page didn't make sense. She turned it over and over in her mind, thoughts churning and sparking and wondering at this new mystery.
Who was the hero Tumble? If she was a big shot like it sounded, why had she gone looking for Shuko? Who in their right mind would want anything to do with her, let alone think that she could become a hero?
She stood up, letting her book fall from her hand as she clutched at the letter with the other. Was it a blessing? A stroke of luck? Another failure just waiting to happen? She didn't know- but it was something, and something was better than letting time drift away without hope.
She looked back at her father. "I think... I'd like to try it."
They left the room together. Behind them, the book lay open, unfinished.
...which presses against the air, generating lift and allowing the bird, so ungainly on land, to take flight, and soar upon the winds.
- She's far-sighted, and will have trouble making out anything within six feet without glasses.
- She often carries around a small notebook to sketch in. |
8,186 | 221 | 19 | 1,984 | 122 | Fenrir Williams & Reina Mori
Collaboration with
The small interaction Reina was having with Tommy was cut short by a blast of smoke coming from the building. The girl turned her back as quickly as she could react, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her nose and mouth with a hand. The thought of using her quirk to push the smoke away entered her mind, but she immediately dismissed it--fearful cries reminded her with no uncertainty that she was surrounded by people, who would be equally affected by her quirk. Before she could think anything more, she felt herself grabbed and pulled from behind. Just as suddenly, before any real panic could set in, she was let go to find herself inside the hero agency along with her peers.
Her heart pounded from the shot of sudden adrenaline, and the girl kept her guard up as she noticed a smoking man--the cause of the sudden interruption, evidently. Her furrowed brow only let up as he spoke.
Boro. Her superior here. And someone who liked to flaunt the fact that he was kind of a dick. He seemed to have a rough way of doing things, but it was clear to Reina that there was a reason why he was Tumble's second as he claimed.
She listened intently, finally relaxing a bit; no longer was she surrounded by a crowd or being blinded and dragged around out of the blue. The girl smiled to herself at the mention of groups. Just like any regular old first day of school, they were doing some sort of exercise to help introduce themselves to each other.
Boro turned, seemingly finished speaking his piece, but stopped and glanced to the group.
"Whenever any of you feel like you're done, pick someone who you think doesn't deserve to be in this program and head over to me. We don't need any liabilities."
Reina froze and felt her heart sink. She glanced around the room, shrinking back into herself as her thoughts began to run out of her control.
That's me.
She watched the others beginning to group up, seemingly unaffected by Boro's last words. A group of four was formed.
The undeserving.
Tommy being asked by a girl to team up. Reina hadn't had any time to improve herself and her second chance would be over. It had to be obvious to everyone in the room that she was the one to nominate to Boro. Her eyes fell to the floor as she felt the anxiety start to grip her. There wasn't any way she could ever say that one of the others weren't deserving of being in the program. They had been chosen by Tumble. She didn't want to nominate any one else, anyways. So she wouldn't, unless...
The liability.
If she was told she had to, she'd name herself. Even just the thought felt like a punch to the gut, but her mind worked against her wishes to convince her that that was right. Even if she didn't have to name someone, she was beginning to think she'd still fess up to Boro. That would be the right thing to do. Like he said, she didn't think she deserved to be in the program. As she was now, she was convinced she'd be a liability. It wasn't fair to the others here that she get to stay. Despite knowing she wasn't good enough to be under Tumble's tutelage, she had accepted the hero's invitation with the goal of improving herself quickly to meet the standard of her peers. She had had some confidence she could do it, too.
But now, that seemed like a stupid thought--it wouldn't be the first she'd had. What if she didn't improve fast enough? What if in that time, something happened to her peers that she could have prevented had she not been worthless? Taking up their time as well as Tumble's was idiotic, disrespectful, and--worst of all--dangerous.
What am I doing here?...
Fenrir continued to walk up to Reina and immediately felt a pull towards her, a literal force causing him to be drawn towards her, however he seemed unphased by it. He called out, "Hey, my name is Fenrir, want to join the team I am setting up? You seem like you can handle yourself."
The girl started slightly, finally glancing up from the floor towards the voice directed at her. She stared for a moment, before looking around the room at the others with an uncertain frown.
"You..." she started, wanting to tell him he'd be better off with someone else. There was a pause as she couldn't bring herself to say it, and she bit the corner of her mouth in frustration at herself. Why did she still want to convince herself to stay? She'd only bring him and the others down.
Reina's gaze shifted back to the ground. Boro's instructions had been to group up first, then picking someone out as a weakness. If she was going to out herself, it'd be soon, but not right now. She couldn't help but give herself a mocking smile, knowing the justification was just an excuse for her to continue being selfish for a little bit longer. So she nodded to the boy who had introduced himself as Fenrir.
"Alright." She paused, realizing she had been too caught up in her self-destructive thoughts to give her name. "I'm... uh, Reina." She finally stood a little straighter. She shouldn't be here, but in whatever time she had left, she'd do everything she could to not screw anything up for anyone else.
Fenrir paused. You could clearly see a moment of hesistation before he put back on his persona of bravado. "You're nervous aren't you. I am not sure what your defect is, but be like everyone else and hide it a bit better than you are now."
Reina tensed up a bit at being caught, a faint sheepish smile appearing on her lips. Defect. Good way of putting it, she thought. "Maybe not exactly 'nervous,' but something like that," she said with another bite of her lip. "It doesn't matter."
She noticed that she had been letting her control over her quirk slip in the past few minutes. Stupid, but nothing bad had come of it. Her gravity began to weaken as she focused on steadily making it neutral.
"Oh," she said, looking to the boy and then to their peers. "Did you have a third person?"
He replied by nodding his head over to Nori, "Yeah, her name is Nori." he said, shaking his head and wondering if he made the right choice. He then took a quick look around and sighed. He turned around and walked back towards Nori without a word.
Reina followed the direction of his nod, seeing the girl with two-coloured hair. She paused, catching herself staring for a moment. Nori. The attractive girl radiated confidence even when she was doing nothing at all. Reina looked away quickly, more uncertainty suddenly piled on her.
Fenrir's sigh stung her a bit, and she watched him walk away. Her hand reached up to play with her ear. Now was not the time to mess up. She had to follow Fenrir's advice and hide her weak emotions better, and she had to not let him or Nori down.
After a deep breath, she followed the boy, taking a hand out of her pocket for a moment to give Nori a small wave as she approached.
"Hi, I... I'm Reina," she said to Nori, stumbling over her words slightly but not nearly as bad as she had been fearing. The girl stared for a moment at the other's heterochromatic eyes, finding them pretty, but quickly looked away, worried about coming off as weird as well as unreliable.
After a brief second to compose herself, she addressed both members of her group. "My quirk tends to pull people towards me--more so if I'm not careful--so I'm sorry about the annoyance." For good reason, the short explanation had been a staple of her introductions for as long as she could remember. It helped to make her a little less insufferable to be around. | This is a picture of what he would look with his quirk, as illustrated by person who has the quirk to draw what people would look like if they was quirkless. He has dog-like ears and a tail, which are covered by the same blonde hair as his head, except the tips are a dark black color. His right eye is blue, where his left eye is golden. He typically wears a hoodie with the hood down, and blue jeans with sneakers, even for formal events when he can get away with it. The only time he will pull the hood up is when he is trying to not be recognized. He does not actually have any piercings.
Jason "Fenrir" Williams
Male
17
Fenrir usually has an air of uneasy calmness, usually be sarcastic and abrasive but not necessarily anti-social. He is quick to anger, but hard to goad into a fight unless someone else attacks him first, at which point it is hard to separate him from whoever he is fighting.
Despite clearly having the features of a common dog, Fenrir insists that he has the features of a wolf. However, whenever referred to as a dog, his reaction is typically more annoyed than angered. When someone tries to insult him by calling him a dog, or something to the effect, he usually retorts in a smug manner.
He has very little care for social etiquette, wearing informal clothing to formal events, eating very messily, sometimes tearing into raw meat in public places.
Fenrir was born in the US. His mother disappeared shortly after giving birth to him. After his months disappearance, him and his father moved to Japan. His father tried to be a good father, but was often busy at work and was always emotionally distant.
At the young age of 15, he ran away and joined a small street gang and gained a new father figure in the form of the gang leader, who was in his late fourties. Two months ago, the leader who goes by the name Loki, was accused of super villiany. In order to avoid having the gang being dragged down with him, he turned himself in.
One month ago, Fenrir left the gang out of both frustration that no one else even tried to help their former leader, and that he hated the person who took over the gang, believing him to be a "Slimy, cowardly, greedy rattlesnake."
He has recently joined Tumble willingly, believing that he if could become a hero, he can save the only person who ever mattered to him.
Canine Aspects - Fenrir possesses the ears and tail of a german shepherd. In addition, his tongue appears slightly longer and flatter than normal, and his nose has a bit of a dark hue and is slightly wet to the touch. The palms of his hands and feet are more apparently black and slightly thicker and has a leathery texture. In addition, his fingernails form claws.
Due to quirk, he has enhanced smell, taste, and hearing. He is slightly faster and stronger than the average quirkless human, but this enhanced speed and strength is within normal ranges.
His quirk has several weaknesses; he is more easily overwhelmed by strong odors or sounds, and will react in a similar fashion to a dog if he hears a dog-whistle. In addition, he seems easily distracted. It is unknown if this is caused by his quirk, or if this has another cause.
Other canines seem to inherently friendly or at least neutral to him, including non-domesticated canines.
Fenrir is not good at many things, however his time as a gang member did teach him some important life lessons. He is multilingual, knowing three different languages; English, Japanese, and Spanish. And knows how to pick locks. He also knows Morse Code.
Fenrir stormed up to this agency place he heard about, his footsteps loud against the concrete. He took his hand and made a fist, slamming against the side of door to make a hardy knock. He drew back his fist again, and beat against the door.
He put his face against the door of the building. "I know you can hear me. Let me in. I hear you are taking in us street trash and trying to make us heroes or something. I want in." He waited only a few seconds before drawing his hand back again and knock on it once more.
"What, am I am not good enough for this stupid little club or yours. You would be lucky to include this wolf on your team." Once again, he waited about two seconds before once again slamming his hand against the door.
"Are you only taking in the ones you think you can fix? Like the rest of us are broken beyond repair or something." He waited only a few seconds longer, before banging on the door twice.
"I need this. For a frie.. For my father." he said, and before he could knock again, the door opened revealing Tumble. "Huh, didn't think you was a girl. Oh well, were do I sign up?" |
8,187 | 221 | 20 | 1,106 | 327 | 🅼🅸🅽🅸 - 🆄🅿🅳🅰🆃🅴
Quietly sitting in a corner, distant from the rest, Boro continued to play the role of the observer. He had done the deed; all that was left to do was to just wait. Being a patient man, he had all the time in the world. The longer it took for them to learn from each other, the better it was for him anyway.
With his lower back against the solidified smoke, Boro arched forward, setting aside his cigarette, and as subtle as he could, did his best to catch his breath.
Damn it.
With pursed lips, hidden by a cupped hand, Boro tried to mask his wheezing. His expirations became prolonged and deep, and unfortunately, it took more effort than he had remembered.
"I guess it just keeps getting worse, huh?" He said to himself in a light-hearted manner, trying to add some humour to his fatigued state as he watched the children in front of him finally interacting. Despite his persistent dyspnea, Boro couldn't help but wonder who among them would have the displeasure of getting kicked out this early on in the game. | 🆀🆄🅸🆁🅺🆂A special, superhuman ability an individual can possess. Quirks are inherited genetically and typically manifest in children by the age of four, at the latest.
They are generally unique to their user, and are classified in multiple categories.
usually require a conscious effort to activate and grant its user the ability to either release certain substances, or alter materials around them in certain ways.
Blink - A limited teleportation quirk, that allows the user to move a short distances in an instant.
Solar System - The user's personal gravitational field is far stronger than normal and possess some control over it.
Radar - Allows the user to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes in a given area.
Pinball Wizard - A quirk that's loosely connected to magnetism that allows the user to attract and repel any metal object
Freeze Bomb - Allows the user to creates balls of water, that upon exploding, are capable of encasing everything around it in a layer of ice.
Gust - Grants the user the ability to blow wind out of her pores; these are also capable of sucking wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
Spin - Allows the user to spin anything they touch.
allow the user to temporarily alter their body in a variety of manners, sometimes enhancing existing features or perhaps adding new features to the body altogether.
Color Change - A quirk that bestows the user the ability to alter the color of any part of their body.
cause the user to exhibit irregular features that generally have some sort of purpose to them. Whether it be bodily alteration or enhancing preexisting abilities
Canine Aspect - Grants the user characteristics and abilities of a German Shepherd.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from the user's head that have the ability to stretch and grow, which can controlled at will.
Regeneration - The user heals much faster then an average human being.
Calculator - The user of this quirk is genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to one's senses and memory as long as the stimuli is number-related.
Stamina - The user is blessed with an insane amount of endurance, tenacity, and tolerance to pain. They barely need to any form of sustenance and can last days without sleep.
Little Dragon - A quirk that grants characteristics of a dragon. Namely a dragon's horns, tail, wings, claws, and ability to breath fire.
Sun Wukong/Monkey King - Users share physiology of a monkey or ape, granting them incredible strength, stamina, agility, and the ability to loud howls and yells unlike a human could.
Rubber Muscle Overcharge - A mutation in the user's muscle fibers allows them to build tension when certain movements are performed, granting them increased strength. The user would appear double jointed and almost rubbery. |
8,188 | 221 | 21 | 40 | 113 | ~Join the fray~
with &
BGM
When Fenrir went to recruit their last team member, Nori took to observing the crowd. At first glance it looked like a totally random bunch of people with no apparent skill whatsoever; safe for a few that looked confident enough. Appearances didn’t matter though; it was all about how they performed when under pressure, so she couldn’t underestimate any of them, even the lonesome fat boy cowering in a corner. Her eyes darted between them all before returning to Fenrir.
He was already returning, but it took her upper body curving to the right, to see who was coming along. A sheepish looking girl was following his trail. When the girl paused, Nori casually looked away as to not make her feel uncomfortable; she noticed the floating orbs a bit later. It didn’t take them long to reach Nori, and awkwardly greet her; Reina was her name, and socializing wasn’t her game.
Reina looked Nori in the eyes, probably curious about the colors, yet instead of feeling glared at; Nori looked back and warmly grinned. Maybe acting comfortable and reliable around Reina would make her more open, they were a team now after all. Yet Nori quickly noticed something, her body appeared to be gently pushed towards Reina, she searched her vicinity for the cause but couldn’t find anything noticeable. However, she immediately calmed down when Reina explained her quirk, a very interesting quirk to say the least.
Nori’s mind couldn’t help but think of all the obstacles and hindrances that Reina would have to endure with such a quirk, not to mention the constant social pressure. It was no wonder that she would act distant, if only to keep everyone from being pulled towards her. Reina had to be considerably strong to be able to live that way, and it unconsciously appealed to Nori. And so she stood up straight, pulled her sleeves up and folded her arms; her smile had not waned but a soft lukewarm breeze was now heading in Reina’s direction. Nori had the pores on her arms shoot out constant air as a way to counter the pull, it took her a second to balance the output, but once she had it, it wasn’t hard to maintain at all.
“If you don’t mind a constant breeze in your direction, then I don’t mind that gravity well of yours-” she shifted her weight towards her left leg, visible leaning on it before continuing. “So now that our team is whole, what are your takes on that vote?” | Name:
Nori Azami
Gender:
Female
Age:
16
Personality:
If you catch her on a normal day, she comes off as calm and collected, usually paired with a soft smile and relaxed attitude. She doesn’t hide her emotions and always lets them flow yet rarely let’s anyone upset her, which extends to dire situations as well.
She is not afraid to show her opinion, nor getting into a fight, even though she might lose.
The reason for that is because she is very competitive. Not backing off whenever she gets challenged and occasionally challenging others is a regular occurrence for her because she sees them as games to win and her emotions easily take over from there.
Her social life is not very special; she might be known but not exactly popular. She is liked by most but not loved. She does have friends that she cares for and that care for her, not a lot and not too few. Her family is also close to her heart, and them and Nori’s friends usually don’t mind her competitive attitude whenever it emerges.
Nori enjoys school because it challenges her every day and because of it, she excels at it. her mind is sharp and only gets cloudy when winning a challenge appears out of reach in which case she becomes fierce and reckless (which happens more than she’d like to admit).
Lastly, her hobbies are nonexistent because she does whatever challenges her the most at that time, only moving on when she feels like she has won.
Backstory:
Nori has always lived with her parents as a single child; she has had an ordinary life right up till she found out about U.A. high school. As soon as she heard it was the most prestigious school around, where only the best of the best got in, she knew where she wanted to go. It was the one thing that consistently drove her forward, not ever slowing down till she passed middle school.
But then her application got rejected; her parents went behind her back and told the school to deny the application because they didn’t want her to become a hero. Nori never found out, but instead of finding a normal school for a normal job, like her parents wanted her to, she did nothing, her motivation was gone and she didn’t know what to do.
And that is when she received the invitation.
Quirk:
Gust: Nori’s quirk allows her to blow Wind out of her pores, and the pores can also suck wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
she can control which pores shoot out air and which suck it in with full control, although the maximum output right now can only break branches and push someone over with considerable force(beaufort scale 8(it's like "fuz roh dah" from skyrim in its second stage))
Skills:
Ego: Nori is very confident in her abilities, and that boost automatically gives her an edge.
Inquisitor: Her sharp mind is quite deductive, and it makes her a versatile opponent. Being able to read a battlefield and the person on the opposite end is another edge for Nori.
Jock: Because she has taken on many different kinds of sports, she is in quite a good shape, nothing Olympic, but better than the average person.
Sample Post:
It was a few days after she had been rejected by U.A.
The denial still hurt and Nori had been very emotionally unstable ever since.
She wanted to get in and that meant being better, but no matter where she searched, she couldn’t find a way to improve herself other than going to U.A. It was infuriating to know that a whole year would pass before she could apply again, a whole year without a game to win, without a challenge to surpass. It left a sore taste in her mouth every day she woke up.
Her parents had been worried about her a lot, offering many different schools for her to apply to, yet none of them appealed to her, none of them could match the school that even All Might went to. But then, after weeks of chaos and madness, an e-mail arrived.
The contents of the mail turned Nori upside down; it was like they knew what had happened to her, like it was somehow fate. Nori had been chosen to attend some sort of school for those who want a chance to compete with the best. After sitting in her chair reading the mail three times in a row, she suddenly jumped up in the air squeaking like a squirrel. Her heart lit up like a Christmas tree and for the rest of the day, a constant smile was plastered to her face. Yet when she told her parents, they were not happy at all, they tried to, but Nori could see the fear behind their eyes. Maybe they didn’t trust the mail, maybe they were afraid to send Nori away, and it didn’t matter.
Nori was going, no matter whom or what was gonna try to stop her, she was going.
So that night, she packed whatever she could carry, wrote a note for her parents, and left.
Others:
None |
8,189 | 221 | 22 | 1,522 | 1,025 | Tommy Sparks
“That’s fine by me, Reina. I’m not super fond of shaking hands either, but I’ve been told it’s polite to do so. Even if you don’t like it, sometimes it’s better to just play along, but no one’s going to care if we skip that step. I don’t think people take note of this kinda thing.” Suddenly a milky white wall of smoke engulfed him and Reina, amongst the others, but Tommy wasn’t really in a position to take note of them. His vision filled with a milky smoke, the hardness was something he wasn’t used to and frankly he found it uncomfortable. Sprawled on the floor, bags of plastic toys still in hand, Tommy got to his feet as he vaguely listened to this boring looking smoker.
Wow, if this smoke stuff is his quirk than this guy is at more risk of dying to lung cancer than a villain Boro’s wicked grin evoked a wry grin from Tommy, the thought of him going to fight a villain and collapsing as he coughs too much and the villain escaped.
"Whenever any of you feel like you're done, pick someone who you think doesn't deserve to be in this program and head over to me. We don't need any liabilities."
“Whaaaat?” Tommy’s eyes rolled so hard that he almost got dizzy and was about to speak up when a girl came over and introduced herself and said to team up with her. Grinning at the ‘order’ Tommy stood straight and gave a mock salute.
“Yes ma'am Ms Shuko ma'am~! Shuko… Shuko… nice name, it rolls right off the tongue and you’re right. Few people left, but still you’re lucky you got me and I’m lucky I got you. Together we could probably, well not conquer the world, we’d be villains wouldn’t we if that were the case? However, at the very least we can have a good time.” A casual arm was thrown around Shuko’s shoulders and he looked over at Boro and raised an eyebrow at the coughing fit. Did he really have lung cancer?
“I’m surprised at Mr Marl though. Pick someone we think is a liability? That’s simply outrageous. Stupid even. I have no idea what constitutes a liability. In fact, if I’m being totally honest I have no indication beyond the fact he’s standing in this place that he has any authority to kick people out of Ms Tumble’s program. Did you hear anything about that? You’d think lung cancer would be a liability though, wouldn’t you?” almost all of Tommy’s questions were rhetorical, but releasing Shuko, he stood in front of the girl with a trademark grin.
“Still, I suppose we should find another comrade in arms, a partner in crime or at least someone else to discuss with. Calling ourselves ‘partners in crime’ is probably a jinx or something, knock on wood if your superstitious! So, a game of I Spy. Who with our little eyes can we see lacking a group?” casting a casual look around the room Tommy took note of the cliques forming. Grinning when he saw that Reina was finding a group, sending a pair of thumbs up her way, since it seemed like her group was nice enough.
“Well, the tough guys are over there. Interesting. Oh, this is probably what Marl had in mind by splitting us into groups and having us introduce each other; I have a vague magnetic manipulation power. I can move metal stuff, doesn’t necessarily have to be a magnetic material though, just metal, hence the ‘vague’. How about you Admiral Commander Captain Shuko? What quirk of fate landed you in here with the rest of us?”
Interacting with: and | Tommy Sparks
Male
14
Tommy is a bit of a paradox as he is simultaneously incredibly lazy and clever, mostly being clever enough to find a way to keep being lazy. It's either all or nothing for him. He is a lover once he gets attached to someone he truly and dearly cares for them. It is this tendency to do all he can for those he cares for that gets him in hot water so to speak. He acts younger than his age as a way to lower other people’s guard. Tommy tends to voice his worries and opinions out loud irrespective of others around him, when people take offence he grumpily tells them not to eavesdrop.
Tommy didn’t initially bother with cultivating his quirk as it was more of a hindrance than something good. Deadbeat parents sending him out each day to collect loose change or lost treasures as if they were using a metal detector on a beach. Eventually though he felt frustrated at home, everyone looked twofaced, half-starved Tommy just went out one day and didn’t return. Incidentally Tommy Sparks isn’t his real name. Tommy deliberately forgot his real name to help run from them.
Cultivating an ‘innocent and adorable’ appearance and mannerisms allowed Tommy to get away with a lot, eventually Tommy realised his quirk could be used in a highly profitable way. Namely winning at pachinko. Making little metal balls fall where he wanted? What better way to fine tune control over a quirk? Slowly Tommy began earning a profit by just sitting down in front of a noise maker and having the metal balls land where he wanted. Still a barely 14 year old kid playing pachinko all day? Even the most neglectful person would start to care sooner or later so he eventually just went to a different parlour each day so they all thought he came once a week.
Now with a sizable amount of pocket change, Tommy rented a room in an internet café and then lived out of there, going to a pachinko parlour during the day for ‘work’ to earn some money and then going back to the internet café at night to educate himself online. He had Sunday ‘off’ to go buy clothes and such. With his relatively stable living Tommy eventually just wanted a long comfortable love with people that won’t use him as a walking ATM to withdraw money from.
Pinball Wizard - Tommy has a power loosely connected to magnetism as his quirk. Able to attract and repel any metal object. Tommy can even imitate rudimentary flight, especially in a built up area like a city full of skyscrapers, however in practice it would appear closer to him either swinging from an invisible rope or as if he’s being dragged in a direction.
Currently Tommy’s control and strength of his quirk is a bit low. If Tommy is heavier than the item he’s manipulating, he’ll move it. If Tommy is lighter, he’ll either be pushed or pulled towards it depending on what he’s attempting to do to it. As an example; if Tommy “pushes” a coin into the ground, the coin will fly as fast as Tommy can manage until it hits the ground. Then the force he’s pushing the coin down with will send him upwards. If he tries to “pull” a car, he’ll likely fly towards it instead. If the vehicle was moving he would be better off slamming the brakes on the vehicle than lifting it. Perhaps later with training he’ll be able to manipulate things heavier than him and move things faster.
- Persuasion
- Cooking
- Although it's not photographic, his memory is strong
Tommy was sitting in a pachinko parlour using his quirk to occasionally influence a jackpot, he couldn’t be as blatant as he used to be as the next town over they almost called the cops on him. There was no proof, but being 14 years old and spending all day playing pachinko? Well, it was already stretching it and cops would just try dragging him to school or worse, home. So when he left the pachinko parlour with his bags to toys to exchange for money and was tapped on the shoulder by an official looking woman the fear in his eyes was likely visible.
“Can I help you miss?” putting on his best deer in the headlights look and laying on the sugar in his voice before he was dragged by the ear, bags of toys in hand, all the way to Tumble's agency
Tommy keeps a small fortune in coins on his person ready to use as a makeshift weapon or escape tool with his magnetism |
8,190 | 221 | 23 | 760 | 73 | Akemi Akagi
Akemi could feel the world move around her. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say how she moved though the world, though she wasn't the one moving her. In place of all the reporters, a single boy now stood in front of the students. Honestly it was a little annoying to hear him talk. He acted smug, and seemed to hold himself higher like he's done this all before. But Akemi wasn't going to pick fights. She listened to his order to the group and began to ponder why he was making us cast out people we just met.
"Hey, you should join our group."
Akemi looked back to her surprise. Strangely, it was the same guy that offered to hold the door open before everyone was dragged in. Her face couldn't help but get a little red at the sudden attention she wasn't used to. But ever so calmly, she nodded and joined the other few that seemed to pool up quite quickly and listened to them voice their displeasure with their orders.
Akemi followed Shen-Mu's direction and looked back at Boro. "It is, yes. Though honestly, he seems in no condition for the shots he's calling, yes. In fact, it probably wouldn't be too hard to stay our own against him, if it came to it, and not send anyone for tribute." Actually there was more she wanted to say, but the art of talking with others has seemed to gotten her a little uneasy. Akemi looked at the other students. They seemed to be gathering into a nice group themselves. "Thanks, yes, for the offer to join the group." She turned back to Yuki and Shen-Mu ... and Jake. Akemi didn't know what to think about Jake, more or less solidifying her decision. "Don't get too comfy." Akemi passed though the group as she made her way to Boro.
"I guess it just keeps getting worse, huh?"
"You know, yes. You can try not smoking. Might make things easier in the long run." Akemi plopped down in front of Boro. In all truths, she was sitting quite comfortably, but her mass of vines just bundled up on the floor around her. "Or try an inhaler. I needed one until my plant allergy eventually went away..." | Akemi Akagi
Female
15
Akemi's known for being pretty timid. She likes to take slow steps as she creeps around to where the people are; and when invited to speak, there's a brief pause between each of her ideas. However, she's usually very calm and seems to follow through with anything she does without holding back. She's also quite a realist. She knows when the odds are stacked against her, and prefers not to waste her time and effort.
Akemi was actually quite the outgoing child before her quirk started to kick in. Always running head first and living in the now.
Bust as her quirk started to develop, she noticed herself start to fade into the background of her class. It wasn't anything to be concerned about at first; she got along with just about anybody, and could easily find a group to join as class demanded. It wasn't until free time that she could feel her isolation. Everyone always grouped up around this activity or that, enjoying their time together while Akemi tended to sit on the sidelines; no longer interested in running around or what her peers were up to.
Growing up a few years; while her classmate's bond with each other deepened and cliques began to form, Akemi remained on the sidelines looking from afar. She was pretty happy though. Watching the other students play their games and socialize brought an intrigued smile across her face. She liked watching them have fun even if she wasn't in the middle of it. At least until, she woke up one day; nearing the end of her middle school career while life passed her by.
Filled with less than stellar motivation, Akemi started taking the liberty of not coming to class as often. Of course, her parents didn't know, but that was easy to cover up. Slipping in and out of the house was relatively easy and she was able to brush off any inquiry of about her absence without any consequence. Akemi began spending most of her days roaming the town. Her vines grew wild and unkempt,
and before she knew it she lost any direction in life and simply existed.
Wild Growth - Vine like tentacles sprout from her head, which she can control at will. Theses vines can stretch and grow up to a range of 15 meters, though she can only effectively control one or two strands with any skill.
These vines can also produce a strange flower. The effects of this flower remains unknown as it continues to wilt before fully blooming.
Mobile - Akemi isn't particularly fast or with great endurance, but she can turn and take off on a dime.
Thick Skinned - Being hit by a truck would obviously knock her down, but a solid punch and minor cuts won't even faze her.
Quiet - Unless you put effort into it, one might not even know she's there. A soft voice with silent steps to match.
"Oho, yes..." Akemi looked down at the desk in front of her. Her vines covered her face, but her disappointment bled through her voice. She should've expected it, given how little she actually came to class nowadays; but it was a disheartening blow regardless. In front of her laid a single piece of paper telling her what choices she had to pick from. There were only two. For one reason or another she missed the cut to join most of any of the high schools in the area. The first of her choices was the old school that had come to be known for its quirk-enabled students being outnumbered nine to one. While she didn't really plan on attending much of her classes, going to a place with a focus on the quirk-less didn't sound all that appealing. Her other choice was much like the list of schools she failed to get into. In fact, she was quite surprised this one managed to stay available. Akemi had already chose this as her school of choice, due to lack of options, but she couldn't help but be curious on why the bar was set so low compared to the others. Excusing herself, Akemi left school. Honestly it was about 50/50 if anyone noticed. She headed off into town, to see what this school was all about.
Anything else that doesn't fit into the rest of the sheet. |
8,191 | 221 | 24 | 1,289 | 184 | Jake smiled at Shen-Mu's question "Some say devil and some say human I don't really know personally I regenerate but I can't wield fire or damn people to hell." Jake then turned to Akemi and smiled as she agreed to joining forces though his thoughts wandered. "It's like she has tentacles I wonder what she can do - can she pick someone up - maybe tear them in half - crush them in a coffin of plant life - or maybe other things... that's so awesome!!" He chuckled at the last bit of his thoughts of the tentacles girl when his gaze reached a person in the corner who wasn't joining any groups. So he walked over and sat next to the loner.
"Hey what's up I'm Satan I noticed you haven't joined a group yet and your not really trying to so how about you come join us nobody here really likes me except Yuki and if he would except to be in a group with 'ME' then he'd surely except you. They probably think I'm a real demon." Jake laughed under his breathe a little bit at saying that. "I don't really know if I am or not but I know what it's like to be left out and ignored it really sucks but you get used to it over time. Plus I don't think anyone here needs to worry about being voted off. If people do vote they'll probably vote me off cause no one wants a psychotic basket case - well except for Yuki he's awesome and he doesn't judge. So what do ya say? Wanna join? There's always room for one more and if smoky doesn't like it he can suck it." | Jake "Satan" Vanguard
Male
16
Misunderstood as he is he tries to make friends but of course he's not exactly your good boy type. In most cases he's very random and crazy meaning he could go from having a full on deep conversation to admiring a cool looking rock on the ground. He gets distracted easily and his strange way of viewing things normally pushes people away. He's the type of teen that would stare death straight in the face while seriously asking if he liked cookies or brownies better. Yeah, he's not all there in the head but while common sense is low his street smarts somewhat make up for it with his sarcastic remarks. Needless to say he's wise not intelligent meaning he learns from experience not being taught by someone else or from a book. He won't learn not to stick his hand in a blender simply if you told him, he will learn when he has to make do without a couple fingers for a few weeks.
It started with a man named Roye "Pillar" Vanguard with a quirk of Stamina; meaning he hardly ever got fatigued no matter how strenuous the work (or play) was. And a young woman named Christine "Rainbow" Narson, with a quirk of "Color Change"; meaning she could simply change the color of her eyes, hair, skin and other parts of her body. Two partners in crime living the life of the street, gangs, guns, and fights.
They of course had a son, the outcome of adrenaline and alcohol, to which they named Jake. Now when they were.....wrestling, Christine had changed her hair and eyes to match that of a demon-like creature for.....role play purposes. The outcome was a demonic looking child with a quirk of "Regeneration"; meaning he could heal faster then the average human being. The boy did not possess however the quirk to change his body colors back to normal. Roye and Christine raised the boy to be a fighter so in turn fighting was almost all he knew. He knew the basics like math and how to speak and read, but he hardly ever had to do so. Most of his life was fighting, eating, and being tortured by his "Parents" for he still felt pain and they wanted a senseless fighter with no emotions. There outcome however was a fighter with a twisted mind and even more twisted sense of humor as he began to enjoy the pain they inflicted upon him.
One day during a street fight at the age of 15, over the cheers of the small crowd and threw the blood in his eyes and an ear to ear smile across his face as Jake was still beating his opponents unconscious face in, sirens and lights echoed and bounced off the abandoned warehouses walls. The small crowd including Jake's parents, more like owners as they treated him like an animal, scattered like cockroaches. In turn, Jake ran as well when a thought popped in his mind. He could leave now and not be bound by the people who contained him, he could fight on his own terms and not when he was told and make money for himself instead of being paid in scraps and a blanket on the floor, and he could let his insanity roam free. So he ran without really knowing where he was going and after about a year of living homeless not really staying anywhere for too long, resting in abandoned buildings and other "out of sight out of mind" places, he was off to his next fight.
He normally looked for any good paying fight he could get his hands on but with the growing population of wannabe heroes popping up the fights started becoming harder to find. He was running low on money and he heard word about a new organization in town running fights in an underground arena, so he hooked up with a shady man by the name Kenington and got a fight set up. The day of the fight he arrived at the destination of the said underground arena and all he saw was an empty alley way. As he continued down the alley way police cars swiftly blocked both ends and four men came from above and took him to the ground strapping him in a suit close to the style of a straight jacket, threw him in a police car, and took him to the station. When he arrived at the station they moved him to an isolation room to which he was accompanied by two people. One was the chief of the police force and another was a strange looking person by the name of Tumble.
Regeneration - Jake can heal much faster then an average human being. When wounds would take days to heal for a normal person it would only take him minutes depending on the injury. If its a small cut or scrape, it won't take more then a minute or so where as a broken bone will take a day or two to fully heal. The draw back however is that he can't regenerate from death and the the weaker he is - tired, hungry, or seriously wounded - the longer it takes for him to regenerate and its kinda a given but he does age. Regeneration doesn't stop him in his prime. He also uses up energy fast so he's almost always eating because if he doesn't, he drops like a rock and his wounds won't heal for if you don't have the proteins or minerals for your body to function, his regenerative abilities won't either.
Hand to Hand Combat - He's not trained in any particular style of fighting or weaponry, however, he is exceptional in close quarters combat and excels with his fists.
The police chief stated "I could take you to jail for the various assaults, attempts of murder, and violation of government property specifically peeing on the outside wall of the police station and painting a male sex organ on the hood of a police car.", to which Jake replied "Hey that was art.", "but I've got a better idea." the chief continued "This person here is gonna take you somewhere real nice. It's a little place where there gonna clean up your act and teach you to be a model citizen." both the Tumble person and police chief smiled as he finished."Now you gotta be joking, there ain't no way there gonna turn me into a goody two shoes you must be smoking something. By the way either of you got a light I could use a cigarette" "Oh I'm not when there done with you your gonna be the little angel of our town so pack your bags buttercup it's a long trip". To which Jake replied "The only angel here is you chief, why don't you just go su......" The insult was quickly silenced with the butt of a rifle to the side of Jake's head and off he went to his new home with a strange looking woman named Tumble. |
8,192 | 221 | 25 | 1,774 | 401 | Back against the smoke wrought like steel, Shou's eyes struggled to stay open with a tired bitterness as he watched the others group up like it was natural. There was a pit mulling around in his stomach as he realized that with the smaller amount of groups, there weren't going to be a lot of leftovers. He was going to be lumped with a group that hadn't chosen him, which was perhaps even worse. Thumping his forehead into his knees, he wanted nothing more than to be gone...
After a minutes or so, there was a bit of movement from nearby. Shouichi dared sneak a glance, losing interest the moment he saw who it was. The guy's just restless maybe? He can't be heading over here, his group is already... Wait, he's not stopping. Why is he...oh. Oh no. Oh god of n-
"Hey what's up I'm Satan I noticed you haven't joined a group yet and-"
no no no NO NO NO. Why god?
"-nobody here really likes me-"
Me included!
"They probably think I'm a real demon."
Did you think that was clever or do you really believe that? Oh my god he's got 8th Grader Syndrome it all makes sense now.
Satan continued on, extending a formal invitation, Shou desperately trying to keep his expression neutral, rather than let it slip into one of disgust or fear. Because as much as Shou wanted to be anywhere but right next to this guy, he could still be some delinquent punk who'd rip him to pieces. Assuming it wasn't just some 8th Grader Syndrome bark to conceal the lack of a bite. Was Shou going to let himself be killed by a delinquent punk, or get annoyed to death by him? Eyes glazing over at the horrible choice, he realized, Well, if I piss him off, I die faster, sooooo...
Shifting awkwardly, he opened his mouth. "T-t-team up with y-you?" Slipping his legs down and crossing them, he coiled his arms around his chest, turning his head away. "I d-don't want to b-b-be on any g-group. B-besides, if anyone's g-g-getting voted off i-it's me. I d-d-d-don't even want to b-be here..."
"And you can't have a team of five you friggin' dumbass!"
Heh heh, yeah it would have been cool if I said that, Shouichi considered, but his self preservation instinct kicked in at the last moment as he kept his eyes away, heart beating louder as he started to sweat, hairs on the back of his neck standing as he felt Satan's stare. | Shouichi Sakihata
Male
15
Shou doesn't like to speak. Not because he has nothing to say: on the contrary, he could go for hours if it was on a favorite topic of his. But rather, because he doesn't, he's something of a stuttering mess when he does speak, even as derision is more likely to stay his tongue than shyness. His mind is a place of bitterness, where he guesses and second guesses his place and those around him, paranoia often guiding his actions and words.
Hot blooded cries for victory, metal fists bashing against each other, fires of passion burning red: Shou didn't have a clue what was going on, but the pure spirit and heart captured in the last episode of a classic mech show rerun affected Shou deeply, even when he had no context to go on. To say it changed his life wouldn't be an understatement: he'd always liked anime and manga, but in comparison, it just seemed like kid's stuff after his revelation. But as he tried to share his love, the fourth grade Shouichi was without luck. His father was always getting ready for work or too exhausted from it, his mother had a placid reaction to just about everything, and his older brother was utterly disinterested, focused on his studies. Such a boring, normal family: it was hard to imagine they all had Quirks. But in trying to introduce his classmates to his newfound interest, he was similarly rebuked. But even though he had no one to connect with, he couldn't simply stop enjoying it. The internet served as an outlet, allowing him even more exposure to the world he'd discovered, finding fans, other series... As he engrossed himself in that sphere, he was starting to find the idea of school and friends a bit overrated.
As he entered middle school, his days were spent merely wondering when he could back home, and when he was home, Shou would stay up late into the night on his computer. When his mother because impatient with his lack of interest as the two of them ate their dinner in the otherwise empty house (husband working, brother off to college), she simply started taking meals to him. And as Shou realized a strict, daily attendance wasn't mandatory as long as he kept his grades up (something he found all too easy at his local public school), and left his room even less frequently. For him it was bliss: all the media right at his fingertips, food delivered right to his door. He didn't even see her any more unless he was going to school, often timing his bathroom breaks to avoid her.
Then, as Shou entered his final year of middle school, his father pushed his way in, making a change. To Shou, it came from nowhere: had his seclusion actually bothered his parents that much? But he wasn't allowed room to argue as he was stripped of his access to their funds directly and cut off from his mother's cooking. No longer could he buy games digitally or order anime or manga: he was only allowed cash, given a bit more to account for food. "No shipping costs," his dad reasoned, adding that it was pointless for his mother to slave over home cooked meals she couldn't see be enjoyed. It was heavy handed, but Shou was too stubborn to let this affect him. He was still going to school, so forcing himself to interact with people wasn't an issue, and buying convenience store food was more of a plus in his eyes since he was no longer restricted to any schedule. Now, his nights involved trips out to spend some of his allowance, his room quickly became even more cluttered with garbage from instant meals and snacks.
It was a game, and he was winning. Never mind that he'd manipulated his schedule to avoid his parents, fearing their judging eyes. Ignore that he spent most of school past homeroom eating in bathroom stalls or sleeping in the nurse's office. Put aside the 30 pounds he gained from eating junk food unchecked. His habits were more than enough for him to get by. He could live like this forever...
Continued in Sample Post.
Blink - A limited teleportation Quirk, Shou is able to teleport a short distance in an instant, no more than five meters, and anything beyond three is pushing his embarrassing endurance to its limits. A Blink is accompanied by a light 'jerk', and the slight pops of displaced air, both as he creates a small vacuum where he once stood and as displaces the air where he appears. The 'jerk' is the light kinetic force that results from pulling himself through space, and serves as his limitations (as in, if he's up against something stronger than that force, he could be in trouble). Anything 'grabbing' him, like clothing or another person, will come along for the ride, unless the force is not that great. A leaf laying on his head has no grip, thus will hang over empty air once he's gone. Something heavy laying down on him, or someone with their hand around their throat, will no doubt come along as well. Though in some situations this might be desirable, the added weight adds strain to every Blink, regardless of whether he wants to bring it along or not. As for the point of his arrival, that light force also determines if the teleportation will be successful. Air, water, or other light fluids will be displaced around him as he appears because they are light enough to be pushed aside. This even goes for light solids like mud or leaves, but something like packed dirt or stone is to tough for him to Blink into. As a general rule of thumb, if a normal person can't run a hand through it, he can't Blink into it. And should he try, he won't appear within it, instead only going as far as the surface, bounced back as if he'd walked straight into it. Moving to the other side of something is well within his capabilities though, but if he can't see the other side he might be in for a surprise. Due to Shou's endurance, he can only teleport every ten seconds or so without getting overly winded. Rapid successions might leave him collapsed on the ground gasping for air.
In theory, further practice will not only decrease the cooldown time, but increase his range and force as well. If it is possible to change his orientation (for example, vanishing while facing one direction and appearing while facing another) then he has yet to display this potential.
Otaku Aficionado – Shou knows his way back and forth the internet domains of nerd cultures, having great depth in some very specific fields of knowledge. His general computer usage skills might lead to him finding more general information, software, or programs faster than most others on average,
That's It – Really.
Letting out a stiff yawn, Shouichi double clicked an icon, a game title screen popping up after a few moments. He beamed in pride, taking in the altered art for a few moments, having 100%ed it just earlier today. He didn't want to play right now, he just wanted to bask. After the title song finally wound down, he closed the application, before eyeing a folder on his desktop: a show he'd already watched half of, and his heart stirred as he imagined knocking out the rest of it once he awoke.
Turning off his monitor, he slipped off his chair, knocking aside a few loose food packages, before flopping onto his futon. Pulling his dakimura closer, he let the warmth encompass him. Closing his eyes, he'd never been more fulfil-
BANG BANG BANG
Hopping up, he gasped, "Wh-wh-wh-wh-what?"
The door crawled open, each creak sending a pang of fear into his heart. Looking up, he saw his father looking down at him, nose crinkling at the barrage of scents he'd no doubt just encountered. He spoke, but his voice was...blurry? Was that even possible?
"You're up early this morning: for school I hope?" he asked. Shou didn't have the energy to disappoint him. "I wanted to talk about your high school choices. You won't have to worry, I've enrolled you to an institution..." He seemed to sense Shou's fatigue. "...It's headed by a Hero named Tumble." Shou's head rocked back and forth, wobbling with his consciousness. The man let out a sigh of defeat, saying, "I'll brief you later then. Good night."
As the door closed, Shou flopped down, eyes fluttering shut, a few words passing through his brain. School... Institution... Tumble... Tumble the Hero? Very funny, Shou wasn't Hero material by a longshot. But if he were...to be sent to...
Shou shot up like a rocket. "Ehhhh?" he shuddered fearfully, sweat beading on his forehead. He gripped his body pillow tighter, which was the least heroic thing he could possibly imagine anyone doing... |
8,193 | 221 | 26 | 1,010 | 272 | Bingo. The solution is clear, then. He continued. "It's unanimous."
"We need to kill Boro!" He said, pointing at the man. Then he put his hand down. "Just kidding. It'd make a terrible me...What's Jake doing?" He said. There Satan was, trying to recruit some guy in the corner.
"If you join us, you won't get voted off." Yuki said from behind Shouichi, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The more the merrier, I say. My name is Yuki, but my friends call me Ice Dragon." He said, pointing a thumb at his chest. | Yuki Takamine
Male
15
Yuki comes across as a friendly, outgoing young man, if a bit cocky and arrogant. He likes to fight, and he desires strength above all else, though he's not telling why. Despite his somewhat inflated ego, he's not particularly selfish. He just thinks he's the coolest dude. To be fair, he's very good at keeping his composure. His reactions to most things are very understated. It's not that he doesn't have feelings, it's just that he's not very noisy about them.
Born to a quirkless mother and a father with a minor ice-based quirk, Yuki grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father was, as far as Yuki knew, a businessman. He didn't see dad very much, because he was gone most of the time. He mostly just did whatever he felt like, and had no particular goals or ambitions until that fateful day. When he was seven, his mother took him along on an errand to a bank, and it just so happened it was being robbed by a villain. He watched as a person was killed, and he was afraid his mother and him would be next...But then a hero appeared and saved them. Ever since, he wanted to be a hero. He started training his powers, and hoped to be accepted into one of the many hero academies.
He thought his dream had ended when he turned 14, however. His father was arrested. It turned out he wasn't a businessman: He was the supervillain Hypothermia, wanted for several murders. Yuki was now a known criminal element, and it seemed he now had no hope of being accepted into any of the academies.
Then he heard about Tumble...
Freeze Bomb - Yuki holds out his hand, and a perfectly formed ball of what looks like water forms in his hand. It takes about a second. The ball bursts from even a small amount of force: Doing much more than squeezing it will cause it to explode, encasing everything within about 10 feet of it in an inch of ice. It also freezes any water in this area solid. Yuki is not immune to this effect: If he drops one of the orbs, it'll freeze him too. The ice it creates is totally normal, and it can be broken, albeit only with quite a bit of force.
Ice Skating - Yuki is quite agile on ice: He can slide around on it fairly well. No fancy tricks, but he can outmaneuver most people on an icy floor. He doesn't even need skates.
Pitcher - Yuki was in Little League, and he can throw pretty well. This means he can get good range out of his ice bombs.
Hand-to-Hand - Yuki has been in a fair number of fights. He's not amazing or anything, but he can throw a proper punch and probably hold his own in a scuffle. Without his powers, he'd probably lose against a trained martial artist, but not before getting a few good hits in.
Yuki looked over the sheet of paper. It had a list of high schools he'd been accepted into. It was embarrassingly short. Only two. He'd expected as much. He'd never been a good student, and had been hoping to get by on his powers and become a hero. Ever since his father had been arrested, he just hadn't had it in him to keep trying.
"It's not like I have much of a choice. Really, I don't know if I have much of a fut-" He said, then spotted the second name on the list. Huh. So he had been accepted into a hero academy. "Tumble?" He asked, holding the paper in his hand and studying it carefully. A miracle, before his eyes. "Sign me up for this one." He said, nodding.
Nope. |
8,194 | 221 | 27 | 1,289 | 184 | A huge smile appeared on Jake's face when he heard Shou's words. A crazy look filled his eyes as he raised his hand looking like he was gonna punch Shou across the face. He lowered his hand with force......right onto Shou's shoulder. "It's ok I understand but whether you want to be here or not the fact is you are and if it's me that is stopping you from joining then I shall resign and give you my place. I don't know why but it churns my insides to see you left out and ignored so worry not I see I am the issue and so now I have removed that issue. I also can assure you you would not be the first one voted off for it takes somes balls to look fear in the face and say what you just said.
Jake didn't really care what happened he just wanted to get this all done so he could eat. Jake then got up gave Shou a smile and a nod and walked over to boro. "Hey smoky when do we get to eat I'm starving and I dont think I can last much longer plus I'm dying to see some real action so can we hurry this along" | Jake "Satan" Vanguard
Male
16
Misunderstood as he is he tries to make friends but of course he's not exactly your good boy type. In most cases he's very random and crazy meaning he could go from having a full on deep conversation to admiring a cool looking rock on the ground. He gets distracted easily and his strange way of viewing things normally pushes people away. He's the type of teen that would stare death straight in the face while seriously asking if he liked cookies or brownies better. Yeah, he's not all there in the head but while common sense is low his street smarts somewhat make up for it with his sarcastic remarks. Needless to say he's wise not intelligent meaning he learns from experience not being taught by someone else or from a book. He won't learn not to stick his hand in a blender simply if you told him, he will learn when he has to make do without a couple fingers for a few weeks.
It started with a man named Roye "Pillar" Vanguard with a quirk of Stamina; meaning he hardly ever got fatigued no matter how strenuous the work (or play) was. And a young woman named Christine "Rainbow" Narson, with a quirk of "Color Change"; meaning she could simply change the color of her eyes, hair, skin and other parts of her body. Two partners in crime living the life of the street, gangs, guns, and fights.
They of course had a son, the outcome of adrenaline and alcohol, to which they named Jake. Now when they were.....wrestling, Christine had changed her hair and eyes to match that of a demon-like creature for.....role play purposes. The outcome was a demonic looking child with a quirk of "Regeneration"; meaning he could heal faster then the average human being. The boy did not possess however the quirk to change his body colors back to normal. Roye and Christine raised the boy to be a fighter so in turn fighting was almost all he knew. He knew the basics like math and how to speak and read, but he hardly ever had to do so. Most of his life was fighting, eating, and being tortured by his "Parents" for he still felt pain and they wanted a senseless fighter with no emotions. There outcome however was a fighter with a twisted mind and even more twisted sense of humor as he began to enjoy the pain they inflicted upon him.
One day during a street fight at the age of 15, over the cheers of the small crowd and threw the blood in his eyes and an ear to ear smile across his face as Jake was still beating his opponents unconscious face in, sirens and lights echoed and bounced off the abandoned warehouses walls. The small crowd including Jake's parents, more like owners as they treated him like an animal, scattered like cockroaches. In turn, Jake ran as well when a thought popped in his mind. He could leave now and not be bound by the people who contained him, he could fight on his own terms and not when he was told and make money for himself instead of being paid in scraps and a blanket on the floor, and he could let his insanity roam free. So he ran without really knowing where he was going and after about a year of living homeless not really staying anywhere for too long, resting in abandoned buildings and other "out of sight out of mind" places, he was off to his next fight.
He normally looked for any good paying fight he could get his hands on but with the growing population of wannabe heroes popping up the fights started becoming harder to find. He was running low on money and he heard word about a new organization in town running fights in an underground arena, so he hooked up with a shady man by the name Kenington and got a fight set up. The day of the fight he arrived at the destination of the said underground arena and all he saw was an empty alley way. As he continued down the alley way police cars swiftly blocked both ends and four men came from above and took him to the ground strapping him in a suit close to the style of a straight jacket, threw him in a police car, and took him to the station. When he arrived at the station they moved him to an isolation room to which he was accompanied by two people. One was the chief of the police force and another was a strange looking person by the name of Tumble.
Regeneration - Jake can heal much faster then an average human being. When wounds would take days to heal for a normal person it would only take him minutes depending on the injury. If its a small cut or scrape, it won't take more then a minute or so where as a broken bone will take a day or two to fully heal. The draw back however is that he can't regenerate from death and the the weaker he is - tired, hungry, or seriously wounded - the longer it takes for him to regenerate and its kinda a given but he does age. Regeneration doesn't stop him in his prime. He also uses up energy fast so he's almost always eating because if he doesn't, he drops like a rock and his wounds won't heal for if you don't have the proteins or minerals for your body to function, his regenerative abilities won't either.
Hand to Hand Combat - He's not trained in any particular style of fighting or weaponry, however, he is exceptional in close quarters combat and excels with his fists.
The police chief stated "I could take you to jail for the various assaults, attempts of murder, and violation of government property specifically peeing on the outside wall of the police station and painting a male sex organ on the hood of a police car.", to which Jake replied "Hey that was art.", "but I've got a better idea." the chief continued "This person here is gonna take you somewhere real nice. It's a little place where there gonna clean up your act and teach you to be a model citizen." both the Tumble person and police chief smiled as he finished."Now you gotta be joking, there ain't no way there gonna turn me into a goody two shoes you must be smoking something. By the way either of you got a light I could use a cigarette" "Oh I'm not when there done with you your gonna be the little angel of our town so pack your bags buttercup it's a long trip". To which Jake replied "The only angel here is you chief, why don't you just go su......" The insult was quickly silenced with the butt of a rifle to the side of Jake's head and off he went to his new home with a strange looking woman named Tumble. |
8,195 | 221 | 28 | 695 | 383 | Shuko Toma
It was like stepping through a door and being hit in the face with a raging blizzard. As soon as Shuko addressed the strange boy, she found herself reeling before an onslaught of words, coming in almost too fast and too close to react. She flinched away slightly as his arm came crashing around behind her like a wave, but failed to get away, and could only stand there, desperately uncomfortable, as she tried to get a word in amidst the storm of syllables now flooding around her.
"Right-"
"Wait-"
"But-"
It wasn't just the social side of things that got to her. Anyone would have been a little taken aback by such a motor-mouth, but Shuko also had to deal with her mind constantly picking up on the volume of his words, the total number of syllables he'd uttered, how many syllables each word contained and how many times each word showed up and on top of that all he was touching her and she didn't know whether it would be rude to throw him off. Her breathing had sped up, and her pulse was pounding like she was running from a pack of lions, the stress building up until her mind tried to cope the only way she knew how.
She surrendered.
Let his words flow, and simply listened, letting her thoughts and concerns drop away as she focused on what he was actually saying. It was easier this way, forgetting about herself and simply focusing on what was in front of her, like stepping out of the world and into a kind of trance.
When he finally stopped, and silence yawned between them, she found herself feeling oddly relaxed. Everything that had been on her mind before had simply been blown away by his crazy monologue, leaving her dizzy but serene. She breathed out, and with that breath much of her earlier tension drained right out of her.
"I'm a mathematician."
It was unusual. She wasn't picking the words, or concentrating on the tone she tried to project them in. She just let them come, a gentle stream flowing straight from her mind to her lips and then out into the air.
"That's my Quirk. I measure things around me as set values, and then do the math in my head to figure out anything I can't see." She gestured at him. "Like you. I can see your height and the span of your shoulders, and from that I can get things like your weight, your center of mass, the general proportions of your body structure..." A great deal more, in fact, but she caught herself. "... you get the idea."
Just like that, a little tension had returned, her shoulders going up just a few millimeters from where they had been and staying there. The little worries waiting at the back of her mind came creeping back, drawing her attention to a rather more obvious number.
"There are only two of us." She paused. Who was free? Her plan had been to grab one or two other people and then rescue the chubby kid, but it looked like he'd been picked up by the devil of all people.
She looked back at the boy next to her. "I don't see anyone else without a group. Maybe the plant girl?" Whatever her name was. Speaking of which... "You never gave me your name." | Shuko Toma
Female
16
Shuko's a daydreamer, a girl who always seems to have something going on in her head. In the right situation, she's both imaginative and thoughtful, but the frenetic pace of life often pushes her to retreat into herself rather than fully express these qualities. She's disorganized, even careless, with untamed hair and a disjointed, eclectic fashion sense that never seems to quite click. A textbook introvert, she feels nervous around other people and somewhat inept socially, a flaw that she despises in herself but has little idea how to correct. She's quiet and very obedient, to the point where it's almost too easy to push her around- a weakness which has proven dangerous of late.
For most of her childhood, Shuko was raised by a single father. She doesn't remember her mother nor where the woman went, and has learned not to broach the subject with her remaining parent. Her dad has always been fair and affectionate, but he's also had to work full-time while trying to care for a child, and though the familial love is there, the situation has created something of a disconnect. Sensitive to the stress her parent was under, Shuko has always done her best to avoid sharing problems with him- but the lack of conventional family dynamics and her somewhat introverted nature left her with nobody else to go to.
Academically, she performed incredibly well during her earlier years, especially once her Quirk emerged and began to develop. Her potential was noted by important figures, and it became a source of pride for her. Unfortunately, it was also noted by her peers. Shuko was marked as a target for bullying and harassment, a situation only exacerbated by her apparent inability to fight back. Rather than seek help from authority, she withdrew further, hiding her talents and doing her best to escape unwanted attention. It worked, to some extent, but as a result her marks dropped down to just above average, and Shuko was still plagued by a bad reputation among her fellow students. Cut off even further, she found some solace in art and literature, as well as her Quirk- the one thing about herself that she still valued.
So when she was approached by a business that had noted her early talents and wanted to hire her for part-time work, she jumped at the chance. The job was easy enough: someone wanted her to manage and distribute funds, a task that was easily accomplished with her Quirk. Once her employers had taught her the basics of what they wanted her to do, she played her part perfectly, taking home a decent salary for relatively light hours and enjoying the opportunity to use her talents to their fullest, even if she was working largely behind the scenes. It seemed she'd finally found herself a place in the world.
Then the police came knocking at the door.
As it turned out, the "business" that had recruited Shuko was of the less-than-legitimate variety, and had exploited her number-crunching ability to help manage illegally obtained funds, turning money into more money through both simple investment and various financial loopholes. She'd been a completely unwitting accomplice to a number of serious crimes, and was dragged into court with little but her own testimony to defend her.
In the end she was found innocent, in part because nobody could believe such a harmless girl could possibly be a cunning criminal. Still, her sense of stability was shattered, she'd missed weeks of classes while on trial, and her bad reputation was soured still further. The law might have let her go, but rumors spread relentlessly among teachers, students, and even her father's colleagues. Surrounded on every side by whispers and suspicion, she shut down entirely. No more school, no more friends, no more life. She'd failed. She was done.
It was her father who pushed her towards an alternative. Shuko didn't know much about Tumble, or particularly care, but it was this or the psych ward. Becoming a hero was a foolish dream, but at least the attempt might earn her some form of redemption.
Calculator - Shuko is a genius with numbers, able to perform calculations faster than most computers and understand complex mathematical concepts almost intuitively. This ability also extends to her senses and memory: she can identify the exact dimensions of an object at a glance, and can perfectly recall numbers and measurements, juggling hundreds of digits in her head with little need for pen or paper. This often works at a subconscious level with few visible effects, but when she puts it into intensive use the blood flow to her brain massively increases, causing the veins in her neck and face to bulge outwards.
Unfortunately, this excellent memory doesn't extend beyond mathematics: she forgets non-numerical concepts easily unless reminded. She can remember the width of someone's eyes down to the millimeter a year after having met them, but will likely forget their name within a minute. Additionally, she has trouble concentrating on ordinary tasks or situations. Everything around her offers numbers for calculations that her mind performs almost instinctively, and it's often hard for her to keep track of the real world, especially when her quirk is under heavy use.
Artist - One of the few ways Shuko can fully express herself is through drawing and painting. She's not good nor renowned enough to be featured in galleries, but is still noticeably talented for a high school student. She's also a decent pianist.
Animals - She's pretty bad with people, but gets along well with animals. They seem to like her, and she's patient and gentle with them in return.
Endurance - Shuko has never been one for sports, but she does exercise somewhat. Her build is slight, and she's still pretty weak in terms of lifting strength, but she can keep up a moderate level of physical activity for hours if necessary.
The rachis, or shaft, of a flight feather branches along its length into hundreds of barbs, often of asymmetrical length but always aligned on opposite sides of the rachis. In turn, the sides of each barb are layered with tiny barbules...
Shuko's eyes moved slowly and silently over the page, picking out each word with dazed indifference. She'd been staring at her book for over an hour now, sometimes reading, sometimes logging the heights and widths of the printed letters and noting their individual surface areas. Didn't matter which, really. It was something to do, something to lose herself in for a little while longer.
She shifted slightly, blinking as she realized she'd reached the end of a page, then deftly turned it over.
...many of which are in turn covered by minuscule hooks. These allow the barbules to interlock with one another, forming small connections which hold the barbs together, effectively forming a single cohesive surface...
She was idly adding up the areas of each punctuation mark in the last two sentences when a noise caught her attention. A footstep, someone entering the room. Its exact volume in decibels popped up somewhere in the midst of her thoughts as she turned around, staring through overlarge glasses at her father.
She should say something. Her mind grasped for ideas, clawing desperately at anything she could shove through her mouth to break the silence. A few incoherent syllables were bundled together and shoved up her throat, and she blurted out, "I'm-"
Just as her father opened his mouth to speak. "There's-"
Their words collided, waves of sound overlapping and causing a dozen separate calculations to spark off in Shuko's head. They both stopped. Then her father gestured, indicating that she should go first.
She shook her head, voice barely above a whisper. "It was nothing. Please, go on."
He paused for a second, as if hoping she'd change her mind, then nodded. "There's a letter for you. I know you... that you need some time right now, but I think you need to read this. It's not the kind of opportunity that comes often."
He was trying to pique her interest, she could tell. He failed. Still, when he held out a neatly folded sheet of paper, she took it. Shuko didn't care who had written it or what it said, but she didn't want to disappoint him. Not again, not after everything that had happened.
It was clean, neat, official. She unfolded it carefully, letting her eyes drift over it, if only for the sake of formality.
Then her gaze sharpened. She blinked, narrowed her eyes, then sped up, racing through each sentence with a growing disbelief. For the first time since everything had broken down, she felt something, a hint of drive beneath layers of despair. Curiosity. True or not, what was on this page didn't make sense. She turned it over and over in her mind, thoughts churning and sparking and wondering at this new mystery.
Who was the hero Tumble? If she was a big shot like it sounded, why had she gone looking for Shuko? Who in their right mind would want anything to do with her, let alone think that she could become a hero?
She stood up, letting her book fall from her hand as she clutched at the letter with the other. Was it a blessing? A stroke of luck? Another failure just waiting to happen? She didn't know- but it was something, and something was better than letting time drift away without hope.
She looked back at her father. "I think... I'd like to try it."
They left the room together. Behind them, the book lay open, unfinished.
...which presses against the air, generating lift and allowing the bird, so ungainly on land, to take flight, and soar upon the winds.
- She's far-sighted, and will have trouble making out anything within six feet without glasses.
- She often carries around a small notebook to sketch in. |
8,196 | 221 | 29 | 1,788 | 448 | This "Satan" guy had a real interesting way of putting things. Why was he so hungry, she wondered? Did he not eat enough?
"He's weak." She said, "The round, stuttering one. No will. No desire to be here. Why is he here? Why does he want to be a hero, if he doesn't have the will?"
Was she talking to herself?
She fiddled with a lock of her hair as Jake talked with Shou, consoling him in his own weird way. "It's curious... See how he still offers help, Yuki? The devil offers help to those god doesn't answer, as they say." Maybe her judgements were wrong about Jake. She had to continue to listen and be sure.
She stayed back as Yuki and Jake offered help to Shou, steadily approaching them. Since everyone else was giving introduction, she gave a bit about herself "I'm Shen-Mu. Daughter of a thief. Former tool of a thief. Nice to meet you." | This image doesn't fully match the appearance I have in mind for her. She has shorter hair and her eyes are grey in color. Maybe a bit messier. But other than that it matches her appearance.
Shen-Mu Haumea
Female
16
Shen-Mu is quiet and soft spoken, usually only speaking if she needs to or if spoken to. When she does,she'll either say a short few words or go off on a tangent. Despite her lack of speaking, she is noticeably confident in her words and doesn't hold back her opinions on things.
Shen-Mu is the daughter of a infamous thief and a foreign woman, her foreign name being the sign of her heritage.
While her father put in the effort to raise his child from infancy to a young girl, his life of crime and her life began to cross into one another as she reached her teen years. While her body was physically weak and frail, her quirk proved to be useful to him and his colleagues, willing to take advantage of a innocent young girl. So she served as a navigator for them on their heists. Telling them wear to go, what paths were safe. It wasn't until a local hero managed to find her and took her in, resulting in the capture of her rather and his friends. Due to her age and not fully understanding what she was doing, she got the least amount of punishment among the people involved in these heists.
Now, she mostly bides her time under the supervision of a few more trustworthy individuals. Living in a boarding house. She doesn't leave the house much, unless she has someone with her. Despite her blindness, she has taken up skills in painting, mostly nature paintings.
She fantasizes that one day, she'll be useful to one or more person, someone that won't take advantage of her as her father did. She wishes that she wouldn't be seen as a mere tool but rather a person.
Radar - Radar: Despite Shen-Mu's blindness, she doesn't have an issue navigating or knowing the world around her thanks to her quirk. Her radar ability allows her to detect and sense the environment, being aware of every nook and cranny, every subtle movement someone makes. As if she possessed a thousand invisible arms, reaching out and feeling the world around her. The usual range of it is about 15 meters in radius, in a dome shape around her. When she meditates and zones out, she is able to further extend the range of it.
However, the quirk isn't without its drawbacks, other than its lack of combat ability it gives her. First off, while it allows her to navigate the world without sight, things such as screens, writing, and distant objects outside of her range, she is blind to as any other blind person would be. Second, her power isn't selective with what it can sense. If there is a ton of small objects flying through the air, such as rain, heavy snowfall, smoke, dust, or other debris, it causes a sort of interference with her powers; as she calls it "white noise."
When in use, her hair and clothes hover in the air as if she is underwater and her eyes take on a sonar like appearance, although they retain their grey color.
Painting: - To the surprise of others, she picked up painting. Due to being a shut in, she had a lot of time to practice. Most of her paintings are things outside her window, painted in greys for the most part.
Enhanced senses Her hearing is rather potent, but not to the level of animal based quirks. Her hearing became more potent to compensate for her blindness.
Navigation: Her power is more useful for when she's acting as support. Able to tell people where to go or where it's safe. She prefers to stay out of combat anyways.
Shen-Mu sat in her room, surrounded by her paintings. A painting of a tree, a painting of a car, a painting of a her bedroom. Her next one was going to be of the corner outside her window. Concentrating, she focused her quirk, trying to extend its range, littel by little... Then she had it. But that wasn't the only thing she sense, there was someone just outside her door.
"Come in." she said, putting down her brush, her concentration broken. Soon, a large man stepped forward, man just about a decade older than her. From his appearance, he had some sort of insect based quirk. He could be thought of as a caretaker of sorts for her.
"I hate it when you do that." he said, holding a letter in his hand.
"I hate it when people get ready to barge into my room. Barge into it without knocking. You were going to do that weren't you?"
"...I was going to knock." He said, correcting her, his brow surrounding. Ignoring the girl's quips, he held the letter out in front of her, touching her shoulder with it so he was sure she was aware of it. "See this? You know what this is?"
To which the blind girl answered with the obvious answer. "...It's a envelope. From the size of it there is another paper in it. Could you kindly read it to me?" She said, waving her hand in front of her face, to remind her caretaker of her lack of ability to read.
"Right, sorry." The man said, taking out the note, and reading it out loud. He went into it, information about a woman who went by Tumble, a special program of sorts collecting sorts of troublemakers and misfits to become heroes, and even some info on Shen-Mu herself... As he finished the man lowered the note, staring at the young albino.
"...Listen. Shen, I know about your father, what he made you do, your little criminal record..." he said, rubbing his chin, uncertain. "I know you want to be useful to someone in the future but-"
"But what?" Shen-Mu quickly replied, picking up a small paintbrush, idly painting out a picture of the opened envelope as it sat lying on the shelf next to her. "I know you cheat on your girlfriend. The woman from the floor below? Who is she? Maybe it's the other way around?"
"Shen!" The man said, angered at the intrusion of privacy, "Don't tell anyone! It's not what you think!"
"I don't have to tell anyone." She said, having not taken her eyes off her canvas this whole conversation. "No one will know. Not either girl. On the condition that you let me go." As she finished her declaration, she finished her sketch, the envelope nicely painted out. "The blind painter. Doomed to never truly enjoy her art. Sad, isn't it, Kei?"
Kei held the letter in his hand, confused, blackmailed, and just slightly grateful at the chance to get the girl out of the house.
Her pale skin, sensitivity to the sun, and pale colored hair are all due to albinism. Her father is Japanese, but her mother isn't, because her name is Pacific East Islander in origin, it gives indication of what her heritage is. |
8,197 | 221 | 30 | 1,984 | 122 | Reina Mori
Nori's welcoming smile was having an effect on Reina--while the black-haired girl was trying to tell herself it was just a regular polite smile, she couldn't help but find it more sincere than that. Maybe she just wanted to see it as sincere; it was a really nice smile, so much so that Reina had to keep herself from stealing glances at the other girl, using her brief explanation of her quirk as an excuse to look directly at Nori for more than a moment.
Reina watched Nori wordlessly pulling up her sleeves and crossing her arms, before feeling a light wind against her cheeks. The girl blinked in mild confusion, looking down at herself for a half-second before looking back to Nori, the air seemingly coming from her.
“If you don’t mind a constant breeze in your direction, then I don’t mind that gravity well of yours-” she said, still wearing her comforting smile.
Reina swore her heart skipped a beat. For what felt like the dozenth time, she quickly turned her face away from the girl, her hand moving up to play with the hair by her ear--an attempt to hide the faintest blush that appeared on her cheeks. There was no stopping the subdued, genuine smile that was brought onto her lips by the tickle of butterflies in her stomach.
"Th-that's fair," she said with a nod, glancing to Nori. It felt like an understated response, considering how the girl's gesture had made her feel, but Reina figured Nori couldn't know how much it meant to her and wasn't expecting any other reply--besides, Reina wasn't even sure she could explain why herself, and certainly not in the heat of the moment.
Waiting for her blush to fade, the girl threw a look around the room, meeting Tommy's eyes. He gave her a grin and a double thumbs up. The humour she found in the gesture helped settle her thoughts, and she returned a more subtle thumbs up of her own with a playful head shake.
Reina looked back to her group, finally letting go of her hair to stuff her hand back into her pocket. She noticed her own smile still hadn't left her face. The girl may not have been able to fully explain why she felt so comfortable with Nori's breeze against her, gently ruffling her hair, but just being as comfortable and happy as she was even in such a new situation was enough for the moment.
“So now that our team is whole, what are your takes on that vote?”
Reina tensed up a bit at the mention of the vote, having briefly forgotten about it. Her smile finally began to wane. She hadn't wanted to leave a few minutes ago, and even less so now. A pang of guilt swept through her at her renewed selfishness--she wanted to spend more time with Nori. Tommy as well, for that matter. She wanted to see what the two were capable of, along with the rest of the kids. She wanted to grow with them all and learn from them, and do what she could to help them, if anything.
But if she wasn't good enough, she didn't have the right to do those things.
"I..." she hesitated, unsure if she should voice her thoughts. After a long second of mulling it over, she decided she wanted to hear Nori's and Fenrir's input. She could trust them. "I think it should be me, at least out of this group." She had to pause again, the words difficult for her to say. "I'm not really skilled or anything. I think Tumble... slipped up or something by sending me an invitation."
The girl's brow furrowed as she retreated into her thoughts for a moment, her gaze shifting to the floor. She focused on Nori's soothing wind for a moment, before looking up again, her next words decided on.
"But I don't want to go," she said with more conviction than either of her group members had seen from her thus far. "I want to improve quickly and properly earn a spot here."
She bit her lip, glancing around the smoke-encased room again.
"I don't really want to see anyone go--if there has to be someone, it'll be me, but..." She paused for another moment of thought. "If we can't just refuse to pick someone, could we sort of... rig the vote? Make sure everyone gets one vote each--they can't kick us all out on a stupid poll."
Reina caught herself, realizing she was being presumptuous in an uncharacteristic moment of what she felt was overconfidence. Nothing good ever happened when she let herself get like this, so she quickly reined herself in and tempered any forming expectations, her gaze shifting off to the side in some measure of shame and embarrassment.
"I mean, unless you two--you know--think that me or anyone else should be gone and all..." | This is a picture of what he would look with his quirk, as illustrated by person who has the quirk to draw what people would look like if they was quirkless. He has dog-like ears and a tail, which are covered by the same blonde hair as his head, except the tips are a dark black color. His right eye is blue, where his left eye is golden. He typically wears a hoodie with the hood down, and blue jeans with sneakers, even for formal events when he can get away with it. The only time he will pull the hood up is when he is trying to not be recognized. He does not actually have any piercings.
Jason "Fenrir" Williams
Male
17
Fenrir usually has an air of uneasy calmness, usually be sarcastic and abrasive but not necessarily anti-social. He is quick to anger, but hard to goad into a fight unless someone else attacks him first, at which point it is hard to separate him from whoever he is fighting.
Despite clearly having the features of a common dog, Fenrir insists that he has the features of a wolf. However, whenever referred to as a dog, his reaction is typically more annoyed than angered. When someone tries to insult him by calling him a dog, or something to the effect, he usually retorts in a smug manner.
He has very little care for social etiquette, wearing informal clothing to formal events, eating very messily, sometimes tearing into raw meat in public places.
Fenrir was born in the US. His mother disappeared shortly after giving birth to him. After his months disappearance, him and his father moved to Japan. His father tried to be a good father, but was often busy at work and was always emotionally distant.
At the young age of 15, he ran away and joined a small street gang and gained a new father figure in the form of the gang leader, who was in his late fourties. Two months ago, the leader who goes by the name Loki, was accused of super villiany. In order to avoid having the gang being dragged down with him, he turned himself in.
One month ago, Fenrir left the gang out of both frustration that no one else even tried to help their former leader, and that he hated the person who took over the gang, believing him to be a "Slimy, cowardly, greedy rattlesnake."
He has recently joined Tumble willingly, believing that he if could become a hero, he can save the only person who ever mattered to him.
Canine Aspects - Fenrir possesses the ears and tail of a german shepherd. In addition, his tongue appears slightly longer and flatter than normal, and his nose has a bit of a dark hue and is slightly wet to the touch. The palms of his hands and feet are more apparently black and slightly thicker and has a leathery texture. In addition, his fingernails form claws.
Due to quirk, he has enhanced smell, taste, and hearing. He is slightly faster and stronger than the average quirkless human, but this enhanced speed and strength is within normal ranges.
His quirk has several weaknesses; he is more easily overwhelmed by strong odors or sounds, and will react in a similar fashion to a dog if he hears a dog-whistle. In addition, he seems easily distracted. It is unknown if this is caused by his quirk, or if this has another cause.
Other canines seem to inherently friendly or at least neutral to him, including non-domesticated canines.
Fenrir is not good at many things, however his time as a gang member did teach him some important life lessons. He is multilingual, knowing three different languages; English, Japanese, and Spanish. And knows how to pick locks. He also knows Morse Code.
Fenrir stormed up to this agency place he heard about, his footsteps loud against the concrete. He took his hand and made a fist, slamming against the side of door to make a hardy knock. He drew back his fist again, and beat against the door.
He put his face against the door of the building. "I know you can hear me. Let me in. I hear you are taking in us street trash and trying to make us heroes or something. I want in." He waited only a few seconds before drawing his hand back again and knock on it once more.
"What, am I am not good enough for this stupid little club or yours. You would be lucky to include this wolf on your team." Once again, he waited about two seconds before once again slamming his hand against the door.
"Are you only taking in the ones you think you can fix? Like the rest of us are broken beyond repair or something." He waited only a few seconds longer, before banging on the door twice.
"I need this. For a frie.. For my father." he said, and before he could knock again, the door opened revealing Tumble. "Huh, didn't think you was a girl. Oh well, were do I sign up?" |
8,198 | 221 | 31 | 1,774 | 401 | Yuki's arm encasing Shou by the shoulders, the hand of the Ice Dragon felt uncomfortably hot. His skin prickled oddly as he squirmed lightly, cringing in discomfort at the touch of another person.
Muttering to Yuki, Shouichi grumbled, "Y-you don't g-g-get it. M-m-my p-parents f-f-forced me into th-th-this. I-if I get k-k-kicked out, th-then all the b-b-better!"
Before he could continue, there was a glint from the other side, Shou starting to tremble as he he lightly turned his head, Satan returning to his vision, his face threatening, his arm raised and dangerous. He wanted to Blink away, but Yuki was right there: they'd already countered his Quirk, and now he was a dead man. He forced his eyes shut, flinching away.
As Satan slapped Shou's shoulder, he let out a low grunt of fright, but there was no pain beyond the forceful slap. Daring to open an eye, he was greeted by Satan's motor mouth once again.
"-then I shall resign and give you my place."
wait what
"-but it churns my insides to see you left out and ignored-"
Okay, now you're kind of pissing me off. Stay in character, 'demon'!
Finishing his line of thought, Satan stomped off, leaving Shou to reimagine the placement of the teams. He was with Yuki and the two girls? Greeeaaat. The only thing worse than deciding groups was actually being on one. Speaking of...well, 'the devil' probably wouldn't be the right term here.
After Shen-Mu introduced herself, Shou wanted to slip away from Yuki's grasp, but instead, he kept his eyes locked on the ground in front of her, as if not daring to touch her with his eyes. "Sh-Shouichi..." he replied softly. | Shouichi Sakihata
Male
15
Shou doesn't like to speak. Not because he has nothing to say: on the contrary, he could go for hours if it was on a favorite topic of his. But rather, because he doesn't, he's something of a stuttering mess when he does speak, even as derision is more likely to stay his tongue than shyness. His mind is a place of bitterness, where he guesses and second guesses his place and those around him, paranoia often guiding his actions and words.
Hot blooded cries for victory, metal fists bashing against each other, fires of passion burning red: Shou didn't have a clue what was going on, but the pure spirit and heart captured in the last episode of a classic mech show rerun affected Shou deeply, even when he had no context to go on. To say it changed his life wouldn't be an understatement: he'd always liked anime and manga, but in comparison, it just seemed like kid's stuff after his revelation. But as he tried to share his love, the fourth grade Shouichi was without luck. His father was always getting ready for work or too exhausted from it, his mother had a placid reaction to just about everything, and his older brother was utterly disinterested, focused on his studies. Such a boring, normal family: it was hard to imagine they all had Quirks. But in trying to introduce his classmates to his newfound interest, he was similarly rebuked. But even though he had no one to connect with, he couldn't simply stop enjoying it. The internet served as an outlet, allowing him even more exposure to the world he'd discovered, finding fans, other series... As he engrossed himself in that sphere, he was starting to find the idea of school and friends a bit overrated.
As he entered middle school, his days were spent merely wondering when he could back home, and when he was home, Shou would stay up late into the night on his computer. When his mother because impatient with his lack of interest as the two of them ate their dinner in the otherwise empty house (husband working, brother off to college), she simply started taking meals to him. And as Shou realized a strict, daily attendance wasn't mandatory as long as he kept his grades up (something he found all too easy at his local public school), and left his room even less frequently. For him it was bliss: all the media right at his fingertips, food delivered right to his door. He didn't even see her any more unless he was going to school, often timing his bathroom breaks to avoid her.
Then, as Shou entered his final year of middle school, his father pushed his way in, making a change. To Shou, it came from nowhere: had his seclusion actually bothered his parents that much? But he wasn't allowed room to argue as he was stripped of his access to their funds directly and cut off from his mother's cooking. No longer could he buy games digitally or order anime or manga: he was only allowed cash, given a bit more to account for food. "No shipping costs," his dad reasoned, adding that it was pointless for his mother to slave over home cooked meals she couldn't see be enjoyed. It was heavy handed, but Shou was too stubborn to let this affect him. He was still going to school, so forcing himself to interact with people wasn't an issue, and buying convenience store food was more of a plus in his eyes since he was no longer restricted to any schedule. Now, his nights involved trips out to spend some of his allowance, his room quickly became even more cluttered with garbage from instant meals and snacks.
It was a game, and he was winning. Never mind that he'd manipulated his schedule to avoid his parents, fearing their judging eyes. Ignore that he spent most of school past homeroom eating in bathroom stalls or sleeping in the nurse's office. Put aside the 30 pounds he gained from eating junk food unchecked. His habits were more than enough for him to get by. He could live like this forever...
Continued in Sample Post.
Blink - A limited teleportation Quirk, Shou is able to teleport a short distance in an instant, no more than five meters, and anything beyond three is pushing his embarrassing endurance to its limits. A Blink is accompanied by a light 'jerk', and the slight pops of displaced air, both as he creates a small vacuum where he once stood and as displaces the air where he appears. The 'jerk' is the light kinetic force that results from pulling himself through space, and serves as his limitations (as in, if he's up against something stronger than that force, he could be in trouble). Anything 'grabbing' him, like clothing or another person, will come along for the ride, unless the force is not that great. A leaf laying on his head has no grip, thus will hang over empty air once he's gone. Something heavy laying down on him, or someone with their hand around their throat, will no doubt come along as well. Though in some situations this might be desirable, the added weight adds strain to every Blink, regardless of whether he wants to bring it along or not. As for the point of his arrival, that light force also determines if the teleportation will be successful. Air, water, or other light fluids will be displaced around him as he appears because they are light enough to be pushed aside. This even goes for light solids like mud or leaves, but something like packed dirt or stone is to tough for him to Blink into. As a general rule of thumb, if a normal person can't run a hand through it, he can't Blink into it. And should he try, he won't appear within it, instead only going as far as the surface, bounced back as if he'd walked straight into it. Moving to the other side of something is well within his capabilities though, but if he can't see the other side he might be in for a surprise. Due to Shou's endurance, he can only teleport every ten seconds or so without getting overly winded. Rapid successions might leave him collapsed on the ground gasping for air.
In theory, further practice will not only decrease the cooldown time, but increase his range and force as well. If it is possible to change his orientation (for example, vanishing while facing one direction and appearing while facing another) then he has yet to display this potential.
Otaku Aficionado – Shou knows his way back and forth the internet domains of nerd cultures, having great depth in some very specific fields of knowledge. His general computer usage skills might lead to him finding more general information, software, or programs faster than most others on average,
That's It – Really.
Letting out a stiff yawn, Shouichi double clicked an icon, a game title screen popping up after a few moments. He beamed in pride, taking in the altered art for a few moments, having 100%ed it just earlier today. He didn't want to play right now, he just wanted to bask. After the title song finally wound down, he closed the application, before eyeing a folder on his desktop: a show he'd already watched half of, and his heart stirred as he imagined knocking out the rest of it once he awoke.
Turning off his monitor, he slipped off his chair, knocking aside a few loose food packages, before flopping onto his futon. Pulling his dakimura closer, he let the warmth encompass him. Closing his eyes, he'd never been more fulfil-
BANG BANG BANG
Hopping up, he gasped, "Wh-wh-wh-wh-what?"
The door crawled open, each creak sending a pang of fear into his heart. Looking up, he saw his father looking down at him, nose crinkling at the barrage of scents he'd no doubt just encountered. He spoke, but his voice was...blurry? Was that even possible?
"You're up early this morning: for school I hope?" he asked. Shou didn't have the energy to disappoint him. "I wanted to talk about your high school choices. You won't have to worry, I've enrolled you to an institution..." He seemed to sense Shou's fatigue. "...It's headed by a Hero named Tumble." Shou's head rocked back and forth, wobbling with his consciousness. The man let out a sigh of defeat, saying, "I'll brief you later then. Good night."
As the door closed, Shou flopped down, eyes fluttering shut, a few words passing through his brain. School... Institution... Tumble... Tumble the Hero? Very funny, Shou wasn't Hero material by a longshot. But if he were...to be sent to...
Shou shot up like a rocket. "Ehhhh?" he shuddered fearfully, sweat beading on his forehead. He gripped his body pillow tighter, which was the least heroic thing he could possibly imagine anyone doing... |
8,199 | 221 | 32 | 40 | 113 | ~I challenge you~
with &
"I think it should be me, at least out of this group."
Nori couldn’t help but lower her smile and look away, towards the commotion with the devilish boy.
Reina doubted herself; a trademark symptom of failure, it upset Nori somewhat that Reina thought so lowly of herself. How was she was supposed to have confidence in someone who didn’t even believe in herself?
Play this now
"But I don't want to go,"
That remark caught the eyes of Nori once more. Her attention was restoring with every word that Reina spoke. It may look like she’s still dismissing herself, but all Nori heard was that Reina would neither want anyone else to fail or get hurt, nor sacrifice herself in order to save them; even though she would be willing to make that sacrifice. Those ideals were something that Nori never even considered; she had always lived by the ways of ‘there could only be a winner and a loser, never both’. It intrigued her, and though she was hesitant to believe that it was possible to make those ideals a reality, she wanted to see Reina try nonetheless.
“Hihihihi-“ Nori chirpily laughed while bowing down as reflex to the laughter after Reina explained her little plan. “-haha you crack me up.” She said while standing up again, looking Reina in the eyes with that trademark smile,
"Your plan to rig the votes would’ve been a good one if you actually knew someone here, let alone everyone.” she said jokingly before smiling even warmer.
“I’m not gonna vote on you, I’m not even gonna vote at all. I haven’t even seen anyone’s capabilities yet, so I don’t want to, it’s easy really.” Her tone was gentle yet confident; she had no worries at all. Her hair wavered by the momentum as she started striding towards Reina, the breeze ever so slightly increasing the closer she got to Reina until they were standing face to face and the breeze had turned into wind to ward off the stronger gravitational pull.
“I challenge you to a game. You are going to bet that you’re not going to receive the most votes, and I’m going to bet on the opposite. If you win…“ her words were fierce and full of determination, even her eyes sparkled with boldness and conviction, she pointed her right thumb towards her chest before continuing, “I’ll be your friend. But if you lose, I’ll take your place as the one to be kicked. Oh, and you should know; I don’t take no for an answer.” Upon finishing her dialogue, Nori turned towards Fenrir,
“And you legendary wolf, that challenge extends to you as well, so you better make sure to have her back as a team member, you chose her and you will stick to that choice, because so will I.” | Name:
Nori Azami
Gender:
Female
Age:
16
Personality:
If you catch her on a normal day, she comes off as calm and collected, usually paired with a soft smile and relaxed attitude. She doesn’t hide her emotions and always lets them flow yet rarely let’s anyone upset her, which extends to dire situations as well.
She is not afraid to show her opinion, nor getting into a fight, even though she might lose.
The reason for that is because she is very competitive. Not backing off whenever she gets challenged and occasionally challenging others is a regular occurrence for her because she sees them as games to win and her emotions easily take over from there.
Her social life is not very special; she might be known but not exactly popular. She is liked by most but not loved. She does have friends that she cares for and that care for her, not a lot and not too few. Her family is also close to her heart, and them and Nori’s friends usually don’t mind her competitive attitude whenever it emerges.
Nori enjoys school because it challenges her every day and because of it, she excels at it. her mind is sharp and only gets cloudy when winning a challenge appears out of reach in which case she becomes fierce and reckless (which happens more than she’d like to admit).
Lastly, her hobbies are nonexistent because she does whatever challenges her the most at that time, only moving on when she feels like she has won.
Backstory:
Nori has always lived with her parents as a single child; she has had an ordinary life right up till she found out about U.A. high school. As soon as she heard it was the most prestigious school around, where only the best of the best got in, she knew where she wanted to go. It was the one thing that consistently drove her forward, not ever slowing down till she passed middle school.
But then her application got rejected; her parents went behind her back and told the school to deny the application because they didn’t want her to become a hero. Nori never found out, but instead of finding a normal school for a normal job, like her parents wanted her to, she did nothing, her motivation was gone and she didn’t know what to do.
And that is when she received the invitation.
Quirk:
Gust: Nori’s quirk allows her to blow Wind out of her pores, and the pores can also suck wind in, amplifying the blown out air.
she can control which pores shoot out air and which suck it in with full control, although the maximum output right now can only break branches and push someone over with considerable force(beaufort scale 8(it's like "fuz roh dah" from skyrim in its second stage))
Skills:
Ego: Nori is very confident in her abilities, and that boost automatically gives her an edge.
Inquisitor: Her sharp mind is quite deductive, and it makes her a versatile opponent. Being able to read a battlefield and the person on the opposite end is another edge for Nori.
Jock: Because she has taken on many different kinds of sports, she is in quite a good shape, nothing Olympic, but better than the average person.
Sample Post:
It was a few days after she had been rejected by U.A.
The denial still hurt and Nori had been very emotionally unstable ever since.
She wanted to get in and that meant being better, but no matter where she searched, she couldn’t find a way to improve herself other than going to U.A. It was infuriating to know that a whole year would pass before she could apply again, a whole year without a game to win, without a challenge to surpass. It left a sore taste in her mouth every day she woke up.
Her parents had been worried about her a lot, offering many different schools for her to apply to, yet none of them appealed to her, none of them could match the school that even All Might went to. But then, after weeks of chaos and madness, an e-mail arrived.
The contents of the mail turned Nori upside down; it was like they knew what had happened to her, like it was somehow fate. Nori had been chosen to attend some sort of school for those who want a chance to compete with the best. After sitting in her chair reading the mail three times in a row, she suddenly jumped up in the air squeaking like a squirrel. Her heart lit up like a Christmas tree and for the rest of the day, a constant smile was plastered to her face. Yet when she told her parents, they were not happy at all, they tried to, but Nori could see the fear behind their eyes. Maybe they didn’t trust the mail, maybe they were afraid to send Nori away, and it didn’t matter.
Nori was going, no matter whom or what was gonna try to stop her, she was going.
So that night, she packed whatever she could carry, wrote a note for her parents, and left.
Others:
None |
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