First Among Equals [IC]

[Cryptiic]

There has always been something about you... Something special...
Something that set you apart from the rest of humanity... Something, that made you "more" than just mortal...
Something that, one day, could change the world...

Perhaps, deep down, you've always known about it... Perhaps you just found out... Maybe you don't even know it yourself?
Whatever the case might be, you have a gift... A power you might say... Some of you have had it your whole lives. Remember, when you were a kid, how you could sometimes tell what others were thinking? Or perhaps, how you somehow always managed to finish first during races? How about that time you memorised the encyclopedia because you couldn't sleep? No?

Perhaps then you may have noticed something unusual about you lately? Maybe, suddenly, you've been hearing other people's voices lately, other people's thoughts... in your head? Your internal temperature rising above 60°C? Shooting fireballs out of your hands? That can't be normal... Maybe you've realised you accidentally walked through your closed bedroom door one morning? I don't think that one was the hormones...

Point is, there's something inside you... There has always been....
And now?
Heh... Now it's awakening...

.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The harsh ringing of the alarm abruptly jerked you awake from your sleep. Ugh... What a strange dream...
.
Today was a beautiful day in Verthaven. The sun shone brightly in the clear, cloudless blue sky. Birds chirped gleefully as they waltzed in the air, celebrating the return of spring. Colourful flowers and verdant green grass still glistered as the morning dew had yet to clear away. The breeze was soft and gentle as it flowed gracefully through the still slumbering streets, as could be expected. After all, the climate around here had always been rather stable, making for short, easy winters and warm, pleasant summers. Not once in living memory had the local temperature fallen below 10°C, and here snow was but a meaningless word. The faraway sound of the fishermen readying themselves for their day's work at the harbour faintly reached your ears, entwined in the birds' cheerful singing. Nearly a century ago, this city had been a barely populated small-fishing town taking advantage of the ocean and the rivers around it. It quickly developed into a larger beast. Towards the 1950's, the town was bought out by big-time corporations. Since then, it had grown into a thriving metropolis. Casinos, Nightclubs and High-end restaurants had spread like a wildfire, as tall buildings sprouted left and right. It has already been described as a strange mash-up between New York, New Orleans and Venice, which was, quite frankly, a very good description of it. Of course, it wasn't all nice. Crime syndicates, Mafias and all around Corruption was nearly omnipresent in the city. Not to forget the ghettos. The furthest away from the city's center you got, the less clean and reputable the streets got. Go far away enough, and you end up in the ghetto. The city's underbelly. Created by a flux of working class immigrants coming to the city looking for better jobs in the early 90s, it had long since degenerated into a filth riddled slum. Even the police hesitate to venture there at night. But none of that mattered right now. Time to get out of bed.

[Arsenal]

The young man, startled from his dream by the whining cry of his alarm rolled out of bed and face-first onto the floor. His injury and humiliation were then only compounded further when he pushed himself up off the floor without looking where he was first, promptly slamming the back of his head against the underside of the nightstand. He dropped back to the ground and inhaled sharply, clasping his aching head all while the alarm clock continued to shriek at him. He finally reached up and slapped his hand onto the little plastic button atop the digital display, at last ceasing the irritating banshee cries of the alarm clock.

Rubbing his head once more, Taylor ventured into his bathroom to begin the normal routines of the day, emerging groggily in a half-dressed state with a foamy toothbrush still clutched in his teeth. He opened the pane of his window to let some of the stuffy, warm air of his apartment out, allowing a cool, spring breeze to blow in. Scrubbing his teeth with one hand while awkwardly trying to fit his opposite hand into the sleeve of a shirt with the other, Taylor looked out into the cityscape from his elevated view on the third floor. Taylor honestly didn't think too much of Verthaven nowadays; yes, urban life was new and exciting at first when he had first arrived, but now it had lost a lot of its charm. Life for him felt routine now here in Verthaven, and at times, a little overbearing. He turned back to the bathroom to finish brushing and dressing.

While he looked into the mirror, the water of the faucet still running, Taylor wondered about the strange happenings as of late. Something had happened a few days ago, something most definitely unnatural. He'd wondered if, just maybe, he'd gone crazy. Maybe the pressure of school and work was finally starting to make him crack; he checked over every inch of his face in the mirror, as if expecting to see some kind of sign to confirm his worries. After a few moments of quieted staring, Taylor turned the faucet off and started for the door to leave for his job.

Just before he left, he stopped to look at the scarf hanging on the rack just beside his front door. He hesitated for a moment, before gently reaching towards it, extending his hand but not quite touching it yet. On a whim he tried exerting his will in the scarf's direction, as if commanding it to move, to jump off the rack and fly into his arms. After a few minutes of nothing out of the ordinary happening, Taylor nervously laughed to himself and rubbed his still-sore head, perhaps he'd taken a few too many blows to the head lately. Grabbing his scarf he left his apartment building to begin his day.

[Saint0120]

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLOOOOOOOOO Verthaven!!!! THIS IS VTNU'S JIMSTER AND THE BUM BOYS! *various comical sounds* gets your rears in gear because we have one hell of a laugh a thon for you this sweet sweet morning!". Usually the first thing Gabriel hears every morning when his radio goes off, one of his favorite radio stations. He believes if you wake up smiling, your going to have a great day. Sweeping several papers and his psychology text book off of him, he rolls out of bed in an almost literal fashion and gets up. He looks upon himself and sees he has yet again slept in one of his many typical dress pants, shirts, and blazers instead of changing into his PJs, but its all the same to him as now he is practically already ready for the day.

Grabbing a soft drink and sandwich from his mini fridge, he sits down and continues listening to the radio. "Well Well Well Bum boys, I gotta tell you, I heard a few crazy ass callers in my day, but I never heard any one be so serious to say something that crazy, I mean believing they woke up with a shark in their bed because they can create things randomly? Lay off the shrooms honey. *various comical sounds*" Gabriel chuckled as he continued listening to the station while he ate his sandwich. He sat there and started to wonder about that lady who called in, she sounded very serious as to what she did. Its strange, thinking some could do something like that, transport something at will, or wake up to something entirely different. It reminded him of his comedy act the other night, he was on fire, at one point literally on fire, but that was perfectly part of his act, more or less, but something happened that wasnt planned, that wasn't part of the act. This has been happening on and off for the past year now. Sometimes he could implement these new "tricks" he'd learn into his act, and sometimes they just happen at random. He sat there wondering about it, but realized he needed to get to class. He got up, brushed his teeth and hair, got his things and headed out the door, hoping it wouldnt lead him anywhere else other than the hall way.

[Voodookid]

Nathan awoke groggy and tired, the alarm blaring in his ears "Uggggh, no, too early..." he slapped the snooze button and waited ten minutes before getting up. "Ahhh, procrastination what a wonderful way to start the day." Walking out of his bedroom he drags himself into the bathroom, needless to say Nathan wasn't a "Morning Person". After washing his face he looked up at his mirror it was distorted and warped like a fun-house mirror, as if so much heat was put on the mirror it had caused it to bend. Nathan went to go get his phone to take a picture but when he returned the mirror was the same as it always was, no cracks, not bent, just an average mirror. Nathan scratched his head in confusion "huh, I guess part of my brain isn't completely awake" he said scratching his head. He took his shower quickly and ran downstairs, normally he didn't care about getting to school on time, but he wanted to get some coffee from the coffee shop and chat it up with the counter girl he saw there every time he went to the little store. Just as he hit the last step though he slipped, he turned around to see what had been so slippery that it had made him fall but to his surprise the only thing there was that step, no juice no water just a plain old step "Hey dad did you wax the stairs?" he shouted across the house. His dad who was still in bed, replied with an even louder "NO!". The young man was beginning to wonder if he had gone loony in the head, but resolved to go on with his day as if nothing whatsoever was going on.

These weren't the first times things like this had been happening to Nathan, merely the first time that Nathan had noticed them himself. He pondered what that strange dream meant, "Ha! Something special about me? everything about me is special" He thought to himself while eating his toast "My grades are good enough that i could skip school for the rest of the year and still pass!" when he finished his thought he saw his little sister watching a cartoon about a man who could fly, and he thought to himself "What if i could do that?" Then he turned to his little sister " if you ask me, just being able to fly isn't all that great, What if other people had one power that let them fly ,AND shoot fireballs.......or something?" Remembering his dream he paused when he said fireballs, His sister scowled at him and stuck her tongue out, but he dissmissed her with a wave and headed for the city bus stop so he could go get some coffee.

[Selene2Moon]

The sky lightened into a subtle gray as dawn came. Toward the eastern horizon, a glow of yellow light peeked. As it rose, its brightness illuminated the sky, turning it a soft shade of pink. Still, the air was cool from the evening and Elena clutched her jacket closer to her body. She walked along an uneven sidewalk in her uniform. Beside her, the river ran steadily. A breeze swept through the cold waters and blew onto Elena's legs. There were many things she could handle. But chilly air was not one of them. Earlier that morning, she had decided to walk. Now, it didn't seem like such a good idea. There was an easy fix to her predicament, but she was out in public. And, besides, Elena had already devoted herself to walking. “It'll warm up soon. Walking is good for my health,” Elena murmured to herself. She decided to walk with more purpose, hoping to speed up her walk and get warmer from muscle use.

Elena didn't live in a particularly dangerous neighborhood. Sure there was crime, but it wasn't as frightening as the ghetto. Still, as Elena walked she encountered several shady figures on the sidewalk, and was rather glad that she had a can of mace in her purse and a pocket knife hidden on her waist. Her body stiffened slightly as she neared the strangers, but they let her pass by with no trouble. She shrugged it off and continued on her way to the coffee shop. It was located toward the center of the city, where the wealthier people lived.

Elena finally neared her workplace and stumbled through the back door with pinked cheeks. Her face colored from the slightest change in temperature. She shrugged off her jacket and slipped on the apron that read “Cozy Coffee”. It was a dark red color, complementing the tan of her skin. She pulled her hair back into a low pony tail and saw that an coworker was already there, setting up shop. Silently, Elena joined them and prepared everything. She finished off with unlocking the front door and switching the sign to “open”. “Good morning,” Elena whispered.

[Blazion]

There has always been something about you... Something special...
Something that set you apart from the rest of humanity... Something, that made you "more" than just mortal - More than any mortal.

What’s wrong with me?

Point is, there's something inside you... There has always been...

It won’t leave me alone.

And now? Heh... Now it's awakening…

Devour them all.

“You went running this morning.” Zoey’s gaze jerked up at the voice, surprise written across her face for far longer than she cared before her impassive mask once more fell into place. The cup of black coffee cradled in her slim fingers clinked quietly as she set it down, steadily meeting the dark gaze of the hulking man across from her at the head of the dining table. Something twisted in her, dark and angry at seeing the way the edge of his mouth twitched upwards in amusement at her fluster, yet her gaze didn’t falter again.

She had learned to squash the intense emotions, the urges since they had first begun to appear years ago as soft whispers echoed in the eyes of the man across from her.

“My apologies, Daddy.” The affectionate title rang hollow in both their ears, neither spurred by the false warmth. Her father make a mocking ‘tsk’, even as he returned his gaze to the breakfast utensils clutched in his strong hands. The light streaming through the tall windows caught the polished silver, and glinted off the laminated surface of his hospital I.D. proudly reading ‘Ivan Kasimir’.

“You know your time could be better spent. Studying, perhaps.” Ivan stabbed his knife through the eggs before him, each motion a reflection of intent and precision shown in his every move. Zoey’s own grip tightened around her white cup unrestrained as she looked down to the deep black liquid through her red bangs, brows furrowed as she resisted looking to him.

“I’m afraid I don’t study well in the morning, and running wakes me up more than a simple shower ever could.” Her own tone was clipped, mind drifting to the other reason for her morning excursion. Aside from enjoying the activity it cleared her mind. Zoey was in desperate need of that after waking up covered in a thin layer of sweat, that feeling pressing in against her mind as insistent and overwhelming as ever. It called to her, taunted her and urged her...

Maim.

When Zoey lifted her gaze Ivan was studying her, square jaw moving as he chewed the last bite of his breakfast. Finally he swallowed and gave a brief nod, assenting to her answer. She wasn’t so optimistic to know it would be the last she would hear of it, it never was with her ‘hobby’. However Ivan appeared ready to move passed the subject, instead standing and grasping his plate to bring to the kitchen. Yet as he stepped up beside his daughter his long gait stopped and he loomed above her, shadowing Zoey with his intimidatingly muscular frame. She didn’t so much as look to him, not until the doctor reached out with calloused fingertips to run along the deep, ugly scarring mottling the otherwise smooth skin of her jaw.

“Matthew had a patient cancel on him last night,” The elder Kasimir drawled, “I’m sure if I asked we could set you up with an appointment to clear up this abomination.” A rather charming smile crossed his features, one that showed his teeth with how wide it was. Zoey couldn’t help but find her gaze drawn to his sharp canines, knowing that he was more than just a smooth talker; he was a predator.

Then again, she was her father’s daughter.

“It’s alright, Daddy.” A small, polite smile adorned her features; unpolished compared to the lax way Ivan had perfected his. Hers was impersonal, distant. “I rather like it.” The two studied each other, light grey to a blue so dark it was almost black. Her father’s fingers twitched, for a moment the tips of his well-groomed fingernails dug shallowly into the rough skin of her scarring. The pain, light as it was seemed to drill deep within her, the nails digging in a faux grip around her heart. The whispers grew louder, insistent, and almost overpowering. Destroy. Finally the sharp pain faded as Ivan drew his hand back, his empty and charming smile abstractly mirroring Zoey’s own.

“Of course, sweetheart. Just tell me if you change your mind.” Ivan straightened to his full height, a giant compared to most men. “Well, I better get going to work. Have a good day, Zoey.” He moved passed her, hand patting her shoulder as he did.

Kill.

“You too, Daddy.” Her father left, leaving Zoey to stare at her half-eaten breakfast without a backwards glance. The stirring that had started in her chest, squeezing tightly and near suffocating slowly died down. The whispers calling after her father took longer to fade.

Zoey lost her appetite.

---

The morning sun beat down upon the white button-up shirt on her back as Zoey strode down the sidewalk, silently cursing herself as she could almost feel her skin blistering with the heat. Staying home to sulk after that morning would’ve just been a silent victory for her father. Pure stubbornness had Zoey dressing that morning in the black slacks that itched at her legs and pulling the equally dark vest over her button up shirt before departing to at least do a circuit of her wealthy neighbourhood. Bumping almost immediately into the first entitled prick setting off for his classes at private school had her path going off course to leave the neighbourhood and finding herself in a more commercial district, where those waking up bustled about on their morning commute. To top off the sun threatening to scorch her pale skin once more, Zoey’s stomach rumbled as she walked as a quiet rebellion to her wasting her breakfast this morning.

Despite her poor mood the only break in Zoey’s impassive look was a slight furrowing of her brows and a more active darting of her eyes as she sought sanctuary. Finally the grey-blue orbs landed on a quiet café, and before her mind fully decided on her path the young woman’s feet already brought her towards the door. It was vaguely familiar, no doubt she had walked by it millions of times in her life. Still it proved adequate enough as she stepped inside without taking in the name, relishing in the shade.

The whisperings taunted her weakness.

Ignoring them, as always, Zoey’s fingers caught one of the papers provided for customers and flipped it open as she stepped towards the counter. She thumbed the pages to the employment and education section idly, already knowing nothing would stand out to her. There was only one thing she wanted to do, and as long as her father disapproved…

“Black coffee, and-“ The young woman glanced up to the menu, giving a light toss of her head to flip the end of her ponytail back over her shoulder even as her bangs fell back into her face. It did little to hide the scarring. “A ham panini. Thank you.” The newspaper was folded over her arm briefly as Zoey retrieved her wallet and paid, and with that done retreated to a table to await her items to be readied. The newspaper was opened on the table once more, though this time she found herself gazing upon the sports section. A small smile graced her lips as she began to read, fingers going to the dark tie around her throat to loosen it a miniscule amount followed by rolling up her white sleeves a touch to become more comfortable.

Never too comfortable, of course. Image was everything.

Devour.

Image and control.

[Arsenal]

A woman dressed in full business attire strut down the sidewalk of the city streets, venturing into the shopping district of the city in the early hours of the morning. She had awoken particularly early specifically to make a change to her normal, humdrum routine, alotting herself enough time to run a personal errand before work. A sly grin crept over the corner of the woman's mouth while she recollected the odd happenings over the past week. A power had nested within her, a wild power that needed to be tamed, to be honed to its sharpest potential. She opened her right hand, looking down into the triangular tattoo marking the center of her palm.

Picking up her pace, the heels of her black pumps clacking against the pavement, she rounded a corner and rushed into a small bookstore. She furrowed her brow as she scanned the store for the front desk, moving with a single-minded determination. The drowsy clerk, unaware of her approach, nodded quietly in his seat behind the register, only to be awoken with a surprise when Lorraine slapped her hand on the wooden counter. "Do you have the books I ordered?"

The half-awake clerk, trying to gather his wits, gaped his mouth in an attempt to speak but found no words to say. he finally managed to stutter, "A-are you Mrs. Delacroix?"

"Yes, now, do you have the books or not?" she let her tattoo-marked hand slide off the counter, placing it on her hip while she stared the man down.

There was a certain fervor in Lorraine's eyes that intimidated the shopowner, he had to force himself to look away in order to turn around and reach into a cabinet behind the desk. He retrieved three large, bulky hardcover books and returned to the register, sliding them forwards. Averting her gaze, he looked to the texts in his possession, "Let's see, Classical European Swordplay, The Complete Fencing Manual, aaand... The Art of the Sword... that'll be..."

Before he could finish, Lorraine hurriedly shoved her credit card into his face. After a moment of hesitation, he took the card and ran it through the register, all the while listening to the sound of her impatient foot tapping. He nervously slid her the receipt and returned her card, starting to bag the books. His customer did not seem to be in a talkative mood, but he put a smile on his face and tried to make small talk, "So, a lot of books about swords, are you teaching yourself?"

Lorraine was not in a mood for a conversation, she was already late enough as is, and she wasn't going to show up to work without her morning coffee. She took the bag of books and managed a half-smile, "In a way..."

She quickly spun on her heels and was out the door before the clerk could manage a reply. He only leaned over the counter, watching with concern while the businesswoman vanished from sight and was again strutting down the sidewalk.

[Voodookid]

Walking to the city was never a problem for Nathan, he had a keen eye, good ears, and common sense. Beyond all that Nathan lived on the outskirts of what many would consider "the suburbs" of Verthaven, so aside from occasional riff raff here and there he didn't have much to fear in his area. Nathan walked into "Cozy coffee" in his usual dress up shirt cartoon network t shirt and blue khakis. Anyone could tell he was obviously trying to look completely preoccupied, and interested in his phone. Nathan would look up quickly and let his eyes dart around the room only to avert his gaze back to his phone. A softly spoken "Good Morning" falls on Nathan's ears,he even didn't need to even look to know who it was " Hey to you too " He said with a toothy grin. He looked at the young girls gentle face "Nice to see you again, I missed having a conversation with someone who has actual common sense." Nathan didn't like most people or find them even remotely worth his time, but this girl seemed, like him different from other people. A tingle ran up Nathan's spine, it was almost as if everything was going cold, and it felt almost as if there was a shark in the tank with him, he did his best , and feigned calm , but something felt....wrong all of a sudden.

[SteelWaffles]

Jasper awoke with a jolt as the brain-jarring screech of the alarm clock filled his ears, his eyes snapping open to a sight of blank white ceiling. He rubbed his forearm against his eyes, sore from the sudden influx of light. Normally, he didn't get up this easily. With his other arm, Jasper raised his hand in the air and slammed it against the clock.

*crunch*

Huh. That wasn't the sound snooze usually makes. He clumsily grabbed for the infernal noisemaker and as he finally got a grip, raised it above his head. It was cracked almost completely in half, the shattered LCD screen hanging off by a bit of wire and thin white lines ran across the mangled casing. Quite expectedly, he was shocked. Could he have... no. Everything is mass-produced nowadays, think realistically. Even though he did have same unusual bouts of strength in the past few days...

"Fucking cheap piece of дерьмо. Never liked you."

Jasper groggily slid out of bed, bringing the sheets down to the floor with him. The clock, of course, had an express trip straight into the trash can. Aside from that, it was a completely normal morning. He went through his morning routine, threw on some random clothes and had breakfast as usual. It still felt strange. It was... too easy. It felt like everything was weightless. He couldn't feel any tension in his muscles as he opened the door to the crappy little apartment he lived in, or slammed it shut as hard as he could. A reverberating thud shook the hallway. For once, just checking actually turned something up. Jasper stood idly outside the door, staring at his fists, clenching and unclenching them. His eyes drifted back and forth from his hands to the door.
Whatever. Have to get to school. He hurried down the stairwell and went on his way.

[Saint0120]

Laying upon his bed, the blinds slightly open and rays of light mark parts of a filthy low rent apartment. What appears to be a corpse actually is a man who is fully awake and aware. He does not get much sleep these days. The sound of his flesh cooking and grinding bones on the inside keeps him awake most of the time. To most this would be a pain worse than any torture, but much of his nerve endings on the inside of his body have melted away, but the ones just underneath his skin are still functional, and they often cause him to itch due to his massive scaring all across his body.
He looks over to his clock and it’s just a few hours until noon. He groans slightly, gets up, and walks over to a table of his with a mess of papers and folders. He picks one up and reads it.

“Name: Leo Cracken
Nick name: Skull Cracker
Bio: Wanted for burglary, assault of 5 officers, and the murder of two, as well as 17 citizens. ”

The bio goes on to read his description and a long list of his other crimes, but this stuff is petty crimes compared to the unofficial reports have to say. Bastard usually gets hired a great sum of money for body guard duty and as muscle, but in his free time it seems like he enjoys cracking the bones of people of all ages, and it seems like he finally cracked the wrong person who has enough connections or money to have him killed. Not many people can take on a job like this, as this fella has some abilities that allows him really hurt a guy with barely even trying, but for all intents and purposes……..This man, if you could even call him a man. A man with blood that cooks and bone that grinds, with scars all across his body….is a professional.
He and many others calls him Dusk, for he feels he is in a moment eternally grasping at a fading light, but always stuck in darkness. He was a bounty hunter, but now it seems that his main choice of work is assassination. Though he will not take any job, his choice of targets are criminals, monsters he believes are the only ones more hideous than himself.
He tosses the folder back onto the table, and puts on some cloths. Two layers of black hoodies with an alarming amount of holes in them and a stripped scarf that he always wraps around his face, regardless of the heat. Finally a thick pair of sun glasses that cover the side of his face as well. He leaves his apartment with nothing more than the cloths on his back an untraceable cell, and a few hundred in his wallet, ready for the hunt, for all the weapons he needs are well within him.