Lord Wraith

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

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_{Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Welcome Home #1.078: A Bridge to Build, or to Burn?

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_{Interaction(s): @webboysurf - Rory Tyler}

Previously: in your heart.

“Dude, I have to hand it to you, I would have quit the moment I took off, bro.”

Lorcán's voice came from behind Rory as the other Blackjack member opted to ignore the first, continuing to hammer away at the metal in front of him, drenched in sweat.

He wasn't entirely sure where Amma had run off to, but he figured his best course of action would be to return to work and try to build a figurative bridge with his roommate. Rory wasn't one for grudges, but in the heat of the moment and the height of the sun, things were born to be a tad heated.

“Y’know Bulltrue has a metal bender right?” Lorcán teased before picking up some of the metal. Looking over Rory’s shoulder at the plans, Lorcán superheated it, moulding the metal with relative ease before tossing it aside.

“I mean I suppose you can keep bustin’ your hump out here and ignoring me. That’s cool, I get it. But you’re only tiring yourself out.” He added, bending another piece of heated metal and tossing it aside before cutting through the next like hot butter.

“Tiring yourself out before your night with Sky Betty as I heard.” Lorcán added attempting to break the tension with a jab to Rory’s ribs that prompted a grunt and a turn as the other young man continued to work without so much as acknowledging the younger team member.

“Look, you can be angry all you want, but at least I didn't ask Haven to the dance. That was a pretty kook thing to do.” Lorcán sliced through another piece of metal nearly overheating it before tossing it aside.

“None of this matters anyway, you’re just as raked under as I am. No degree, what are you going to do? Even I know there aren’t a lot of options for a Jake with your abilities.” His tone softened,

“Look, I’m sorry I ran off. It wasn't my intention to actually leave you with the work. Why don't you power up? Even in three minutes the two of us can blast through the rest of this and I’ll cover the rest once you tap out.”

He extended a hand to Rory.

“Come on, wolves stick together, dude, two of us would be better than one. If you’re eager to see this through, let me help you, bro.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

Atlantic Regal Secondary and Post Secondary Institution of Higher Learning

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

Most of the campsite was set up by the time the pair arrived. Tad quickly barked orders to Lorcán and Aurora for their parts in constructing this year’s trial. It was the inclusion of sharing a tent for the night that received a double take from Lorcán. A shiver of anticipation and excitement went down Lorcán’s spine as she struggled to maintain a straight face so as not to alarm Aurora with his eagerness or enthusiasm for the night to come.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me,”

“Of all the grom luck,” Lorcán mockingly groaned with a smirk. He and Aurora had fallen asleep together many times on the beach though he couldn’t say he had ever intentionally tried to share a bunk or otherwise with her. It was probably best to approach the situation at hand with as little overthinking as possible.

“I’m going to go and find Haven, she’s probably wondering where I am and why I’m not helping her yet,” Aurora stated, interrupting Lorcán’s spiralling thoughts as his molten eyes looked down into her shimmering blues. He absently reached for her hand before stopping himself.

Why did he always stop himself?

“We'll talk later!”

Talking was good, they were good at talking. They had just spent the last five kilometres talking. If there was anyone on this island that Lorcán could talk to it was Aurora. But sleeping in a tent with her…

…Did I even pack pajamas?

Lorcán had to stop and think for a second. In his head, he had always been bunking with Rory or Gil. He didn’t think about needing anything more than a pair of boxers to sleep in and already that was generous as both of the other boys had found out on one occasion or another.

Giving his head a shake, Lorcán stifled a laugh at a memory recalling the first time that Rory had discovered Lorcán preferred the buff to boxers at night. It, after all, wasn’t every night that you walked out to the kitchen to not only discover your new roommate drinking directly from the carton but doing so while hanging brain.

The following morning was accompanied by a discussion on boundaries and the importance of glasses.

He watched Blackjack move about going to their respective tasks and smiled fondly. The last three years had built a lot of memories and though he wouldn’t allow himself to voice it out loud, Lorcán knew that he’d miss the island and its predictability. With a sad smile, he followed Aurora’s lead and moved to join his group, walking towards the pair of dark-haired individuals as the trio moved to the construction site.

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_{Location: The Southern Plateau - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Welcome Home #1.075: I Want to Reconcile the Violence

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_{Interaction(s): @Melissa - Aurora Mitchell, @Rockette - Amma Cahors}

Previously: I've Been Talking With A Ghost

While some people loved the smell of a book, Lorcán loved the smell of a freshly printed standard D-size drawing as it was unfolded and placed in front of him. The twenty-four by thirty-six-inch piece of paper illustrated the supporting structure that would serve the Trial’s construction in creating both the outside illusion of a giant hedge maze and the interior simulation of whatever theme Harper and Calli landed on.

Perfectly chosen line weights and hatches illustrated how each piece of steel was to be cut and installed as Lorcán mulled over the plans, admiring Robert’s attention to detail.

Looking over the plans one last time with a whistle of admiration, Lorcán turned his attention to the work in front of him. Thankfully in addition to Rory and Amma, there were members from other senior teams assigned to different quadrants but there was still more than enough work in front of them.

That didn’t mean they didn’t have time to chat though.

“Did you see my arm, brah?” Lorcán asked Amma, breaking the silence as he passed the plans along for her and Rory to take a look. “You inspired me.” He elaborated, pointing to the three-quarter sleeve along his right arm.

His ember-like eyes watched the girl before speaking again. He had never truly realized just how much ink covered her body. Numerous skulls and insects, birds and tentacles, each directing and guiding the eyes to a different location.

“You were right about one thing,” He smiled, “It did hurt, every single one.” He added with a smug shrug. Macho didn’t suit him, he didn’t really understand what was prompting him to thump his chest and holler like this. There was just something about being around Amma which always made Lorcán feel like he needed to impress her.

“But after a while, it just burned and really, what’s a burn to me.”

He carefully watched those icy blue eyes, anticipating the words out of her full, pale, lips. There was an approval that he was desperate to win, despite not knowing why.

She is a perceptive creature, and in every instance, she observes with a sort of aloof detachment whilst simultaneously gathering every ounce of detail and nuances possessed by human nature. From the careful browse of his eyes attempting to decipher the depths of her stare, to the accent of his speech that pings curiously on her ears with every drawl of timbre, from the corded muscle through the arm he displays. The accentuation of gray and black is appealing against the bronze of his skin, how she never noticed before alludes to her, much like the way his words strike a cord within her that is entirely foreign and yet... not.

"Oh, really now?" Her voice whisper-soft as she recalls the memory from a year prior. That waspish need to assert herself within an established team, to introduce her impression as one of sensuality and power; the same sort of power that thrummed through her with a sort of hyper-awareness when he looked at her. He, who was the first one to introduce himself, spoke to her, the first to crest the cautious exterior she had erected the first time she stepped onto the island. Looking at him now, and carefully so, she notes that his hair is much shorter than it had been before. A shame, she thinks.

It is a time that suddenly seems so far away.

Amma lifts one careful gesture, palm up, curiosity splayed through her fingers.

"Pain like that is different from anything else I've known." She can't break the soft plume of laughter that works its way free then, tinged in the finest touches of something akin to sadness. "But you're right, what is a burn to you - Lorcán."

His name is effortless through her lips, and Amma finds she doesn't much mind the way it settles against both tongue and teeth. It's probably the first moment she has ever uttered such, and the realization colors her eyes bright in icy fissures that collide through her stare. "Nice lines," she observes. Her lashes sweep low and without much hesitation, she clasps her palm against his forearm, using the motion to view both wyvern and Phoenix inked into his incredibly warm skin. It almost burns against her flesh, spiraling through the length of her fingers and hand much like a serpent of flame suddenly looping thrice around her wrist.

"I like it. Who knew I could inspire something beautiful like this." There is irony coated in her words, she's almost certain.

“Why?” Lorcán responded, a confused look crossing his boyish face. “There’s like, totally nothing ugly about you, Betty.” He shook his head in slight disbelief. The fire-like irises of his eyes framed his pupils as they danced about scanning Amma from head to toe. He meant what he said, there was nothing ugly about the young woman standing before him. Her figure was slender but curved enough to be dangerous. What had once been a blank canvas was now covered in art that peeked out from under the hemlines of her physical training uniform enhancing her foreign and exotic beauty.

Her lips seemed to almost cradle each word she spoke, constantly leaving Lorcán greedily wanting more of the siren’s call. Her lips’ fullness pressed together with every word, holding each syllable on bated breath before speaking in a tone and manner that left Lorcán with every hair on his body standing on end. Not unlike the experience of lightning leaving his fingertips.

The deer frolicked through the fields unaware that the wolf was watching from the treeline. The clouds overhead continued to swirl with the threat of both rain and storm, but the deer stood smiling, blissful in its ignorance. An unprecedented tension sat over the plateau as the cold winds cried over the Howling Cliffs again.

“Brah, hear that?” The wavy-haired boy asked, gesturing with his head towards the edge of the Plateau. “The like edge of the Southern Plateau is known as the Howling Cliffs. Get this, one of ours used their abilities to shape the cliffs to work like an instrument so when the wind blows through the cliffs, it creates that rad haunting song. It’s totally sick.”

"I didn't know that," her admission is toned in wonder, her thoughts adrift to what he confided to there being nothing ugly about her.

He simply doesn't know you yet, Amma.

She easily dispels her touch away from him, the tiniest of crimson sparks descending from those lines of fate and heart carved into her palms as her brows plunge at the moniker he has bestowed upon her. Amma hums thoughtfully, unable to inquire as the wind pitches and collides as if summoned by their mention. Her eyes follow his motions, back to the edge of the cliffs she had stood aside prior, perhaps that was why she felt beckoned by the spires below -- for the entire construct of manipulated rock to be an instrument rather than a force of erosion and time. Her head cants to one side, as if trying to catch those lilting notes and haunting chords he mentioned.

Half-lidded, her eyes shimmer in recognition as she deciphers those hidden pitches, an accompanying murmur purring away from her throat and chest that harks back to a symphony sung into the night sky many years ago.

"That is rad," she almost quips, mirth spiralling away into her eyes as these Howling Cliffs summon more notes away from her lips, much like the inspiration that drones away through her body as he looks at her. That hypersensitivity simmered and banked against her bones, eager in the path that rose to her inked skin, liken to a primal energy that appreciated every panning search of his molten eyes that danced with a hidden flame that she suddenly wanted to see unleashed.

"What other secrets are there about this place?" She wondered aloud, so long as it kept him looking at her like that.

“I hear them too,” Lorcán replied absently, his voice breaking her thoughts as he noted Amma responding to the notes. “There’s the fourth, the fifth. A minor fall and then a major lift.” His index and middle fingers began to tap an alternating pattern against his belt.

“I find new secrets are like revealed around here on the regular.” He muttered in reply, picking up a nearby piece of material, and taking two measurements before raising his hand. With some focus, he accelerated the air around his hand, igniting it before refining the flame into white-hot plasma. With a graceful stroke, he sliced through the first beam.

“Most of the island has definitely been altered by the founding faculty and students, the flora and the fauna. Even the temperatures, it’s not actually supposed to be as temperate as it is. But we hold the power to shape the world.”

He sliced through the next piece of metal.

“Or destroy it.”

Rechecking the plans, Lorcán took ahold of the metal. Pausing, he took a breath, reaching out through the surrounding HZEs and slowly raising the temperature of the metal until it began to bend in his hands. Gently guiding it to the illustrated shape, he released the bent steel to cool before continuing to move on.

“What was the Foundation like, brah?” Lorcán asked, looking back at Amma, “I’ve heard from one of the other Bettys it was pretty bleak. Sterile, hospital-like hallways and corridors, very module pod-like floating structures. But that Torres kook seems like a real iron lady. Can’t imagine she’s easy to impress.”

What kind of roleplays would you like to see on this site?

<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

Hey, thanks for that, I'll have to check those out sometime!

I have been considering making this kind of RP but it's my nerves that get the best of me, and other times, my attention span, hah.

Also, if there's anyone else wanting to share their wishlist ideas, feel free to comment. It's fun reading about everyone's different tastes.

@Pyrrhic

It's a little out of date now, but this is a great starting point to finding resources both as a player and a GM.

What kind of roleplays would you like to see on this site?

I would like to create something like this but I don't have GMing experience tbh, I'm better off as a player.

@Pyrrhic

You don't get GMing experience by not GMing. Everyone starts somewhere, just be honest and transparent with your players, state what you want to get out of the RP, where you want it to go and stand by your guns where necessary but don't suffocate your players either. There are plenty of articles, guides and general examples scattered throughout the site to help you get started.

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

Just reiterating again here in case it gets buried in the Discord chat:

Bartimaeus has been removed from the roster due to inactivity exceeding twenty-one days and non-responsiveness. Pallyx will be treated as having departed after the announcement at the Opening Ceremonies.

As we've essentially been operating at 11 characters for the past three weeks. I am not looking to add anyone new to the cast at this time and we'll just continue as we are. If in the future we lose more characters or the story branches to a point where we could reasonably add another character, we will re-evaluate then. But as it currently stands, I am happy and content both with the character's chemistry and player compatibility and don't want to do anything to compromise that.

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

As the pair began their walk, alone once more, Aurora couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the various conversations going on around them. The campus was abuzz with chatter surrounding the ceremony and the Foundation’s presence, and although she didn’t want to trigger another panic attack, it was hard to avoid the elephant in the room. “What do you think is going to happen?” She looked up at Lorcán, “The Foundation operates so differently, everyone knows that.”

“I don’t think-” Lorcán gathered his thoughts while they walked through the campus. His ember-like eyes danced around observing the students in their hushed groups. Everyone was on edge after the ceremony.

“Things might be choppy right now lady dude, but I don’t think we’ll just let them take over.” He finally responded. “If the school didn’t go down for that kook, Hyperion, it’s not going for these junkyard dogs. I can’t see my ‘rents bailing on us or P.R.C.U. for that grommet. No, I think they’re playing the long con, H.E.L.P. is going to go new school on this one and wow us all before the sun sets on this year.

“I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared.” The redhead revealed, looking down at her loafers as they moved along the paved pathway, “I don’t want things to change, I like them the way that they are.”

“It’s okay to be clucked,” Lorcán smiled reassuringly, “I think we’re all clucked in some way dude, everyone is afraid of being raked over by this. I know I am, before this mornin’ I was totally shaked for this year.”

“I really thought it was going to be ricos this year,” He wistfully muttered looking towards the looming clouds in the sky above the campus. “Looks like we’re really going to get worked though, but I think we’ll come through the otherside.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around Aurora and giving her a squeeze.

The redhead nodded, knowing that Lorcán spoke truthfully; sure, it might be rocky, it definitely would not be perfect, but they’d be okay in the end. Most importantly, they had each other.

Well… at least until graduation.

But Aurora didn’t want to think about that, not right now. They still had plenty of time together before she had to come to terms with him leaving the Island, potentially for good.

“Besides, nothing will ever change between us.” Pointing his chin towards the Myotis dorm in front of them, he spoke again.

“This is your stop, brah. I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back in her in ten to fifteen then?”

Aurora chose not to dwell on his words, responding with a simple nod while taking them at face value and not thinking through the subtext that riddled her mind.

“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll be quick,” She replied through a forced smile, hoping he wouldn’t think anything of it, before taking a breath, clearing her mind, and vanishing into thin air.

“So rad,” Lorcán muttered while reaching out to where Aurora had been only seconds ago. He suddenly found himself missing her presence, a cold Easterly wind blowing across campus sent a shiver through his spine.

The weather had been this way exactly five years ago.

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_{Location: University Dormitories - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.069: I've Been Talking With A Ghost

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_{Interaction(s): @Melissa - Aurora Mitchell}

Previously: Not Myself Today

Walking the short distance to the Canis dorm, Lorcán entered the building before making his way to his and Rory’s dormitory on the second floor. Opening the door to his bedroom from the shared living space, Lorcán froze in the doorway as he was greeted by a bald finely dressed man sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Jonas!?” Lorcán exclaimed entering the room, “But you’re de-”

“Yes,” Jonas replied, polishing his glasses as he stood up from the edge of the bed. “I had gathered I was already dead at this point in time. Pity, look at you all grown up.”

Jonas clapped Lorcán on his shoulders before gesturing for him to take a seat.

“You’re a spitting image of your father by the time he was this age, what are you now, nineteen?”

“Twenty-one actually,”

“Twenty-one, what an age. Have you and the lovely Miss A begun dating yet?” Jonas asked with his usual all-knowing twinkle in his eye.

“No, not yet at least,” Lorcán replied while rubbing the back of his head. “Are you, like a ghost or something?”

A hearty laugh filled the room, putting Lorcán somewhat more at ease but he was still suspicious as he studied the older man. He looked like Jonas, he sounded like Jonas, he even smelled like Jonas. The woody cologne with notes of tobacco leaf and vanilla hung in the stagnant air of the boys’ dorm.

“No, I assure you I am most corporeal,” Jonas replied while squeezing Lorcán’s shoulder. “I just don’t simply experience life quite as linearly as you do.” He explained though the vagueness of his phrasing left Lorcán with far more questions than he initially had.

“Tell me, my boy, what has happened on campus to have everyone in such an uproar? Even in you, behind your calm demeanour, I see the anger and hurt.”

“We totally lost our accreditation to basically all, the like, major programs. Pretty much means everything I’ve worked so hard for is absolutely bunked. Y’know, kinda feels like home is a bit of a prison.”

“After Crestwood Hollow, your father and his peers felt much the same way. They were outcasts, outed by their abilities, expelled from their school with nowhere to go in the world.”

“But they had you and then you made P.R.C.U.”

“That’s an oversimplification of events, but yes,” Jonas replied. “The point I’m trying to make is that sometimes, what looks like starting over is the beginning of something better. This school is a building, but its ideals are transferable. Just because someone else is taking the building doesn’t mean they get to crush its ideals.”

“But how am I supposed to make a difference out there without a degree?”

“Do you truly think it was the degree that was going to make the difference?” The older man asked with a sympathetic smile. “Come now, child. You’re wiser than that. The community here is what prepared you to make a difference. We created something here the world can only aspire to.”

“A place to go for those who had nowhere.” Jonas nodded as Lorcán responded before expounding further.

“More importantly a place where everyone belonged and mattered. That’s why we have the teams and the houses. We wanted to show how similar people could work together and how circumstance and adversity could be overcome. The uniforms serve to remind us that we are all Hyperhumans who are not only wanting, but also deserving of the same treatment and respect.”

Leaning back, Jonas crossed his legs before reclining slightly more.

“Many years ago, I had the opportunity to meet with Nakamura Yoshi, he wanted the school then as much as he seemingly does now. He’s an ambitious man, but not malicious. I suspect that if the loss of the school’s accreditation is linked to the Foundation, then it was not Nakamura who orchestrated it. There may be turmoil even within the Foundation’s ranks.”

“Was Kowalski also just ambitious?”

The question hung in the air for an uncomfortably long moment before Jonas replied.

“Yakob coveted power, a trait I let my love and admiration for him blind me to.”

“If you know he’s Hyperion, why can’t you just stop him?” Lorcán asked, “Like, you’re going to go back in time aren’t you?”

“I’m afraid it just doesn’t work like that, Yakob and Miss Carlyle are most diligent in ensuring that any knowledge I have of the future is not used to change the past.” Jonas pinched his brow before gently massaging it.

“In hindsight, it’s now glaringly obvious why.”

“So?” Lorcán retorted, “Go back, don’t play by their rules. You can stop all of this from happening.”

“My dear boy,” Jonas replied sympathetically, “I wish I could spare you this pain, but I am not a god nor will I play one. Things are already set in motion which cannot be undone.”

As he spoke, his hand brushed against the pocket of his blazer.

“Speaking of, I need to give you this.” Reaching out, Jonas deposited a small object into the palm of Lorcán’s hand.

“Consider it a belated eighteenth birthday gift. I know it’ll serve you well”

The object was warm to the touch, obsidian in colour and seemingly pulsed as Lorcán moved his thumb over its near frictionless surface. It would have appeared as stone if it wasn't vaguely metallic.

“What is this?”

Jonas suddenly clutched a hand to his chest, his entire going out of focus for a split moment.

“It has been wonderful to catch up, my boy, but I’m afraid this is my stop.”

“Jonas!” Lorcán yelled but he was gone. _{“Wait…”} He added meekly before sitting back down in the room alone again. Looking at the strange object in his hand, Lorcán turned it over once more before pocketing it. He sat there for a moment, taking in everything that had just happened before jumping to his feet.

Aurora!

Lorcán must have been gone far longer than he told Aurora he would be. She’d probably be wondering where he was, or worse assume he had fallen down the stairs and hurt himself.

Again.

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Flying out the door of the Canis Dormitories, Lorcán practically tripped down the stairs before running face-first into another male of similar height. Bouncing off the chest of the other individual, Lorcán tripped backwards before firmly landing on the ground with a familiar dull thud.

“Ow,” He muttered aloud before looking up and seeing the familiar face looking down at him. “Oh, my bad, Dad.”

Aiden Roth extended a hand towards his son, helping Lorcán to his feet.

“I’m glad I ran into you, though admittedly, I was looking for Rory.”

“He wasn’t upstairs, so I imagine bro’s already headed for the Plateau.”

“I’ll fire him an email later then,” Aiden replied before setting his keen eyes on his son, “How are you doing, y’know with everything from this morning? I wish I could have warned you but it seems it was sprung even on O’Neil. We only found out moments before the ceremony.”

“I spoke with Jonas.” Lorcán watched his father’s expression as he continued to speak. “Just now, upstairs.”

“I see,” Aiden spoke softly, choosing his next words carefully, “He always considered you a grandson, I’m not surprised he’d choose to visit you.”

“So you knew about the like, time-slipping?”

“Your mom and I both knew, I know Kowalski and Summer also were aware of it. They were on damage control though in hindsight-”

“You’re realizing how flawed that is?” Lorcán’s voice had a steely edge as he responded, “Jonas said the same thing.” He kicked a stray piece of gravel across the paved walkway.

“Is no one worried that Kowalski is still out there then, using Jonas’ abilities to evade capture?”

“I’d be lying if I said the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.” Aiden stated solemnly as the pair began walking in the direction of the Myotis dorm. “But Kowalski was at least limited in that he could only learn abilities he understood. Not even Jonas fully comprehended how his abilities worked. Jonas wasn’t even entirely sure he was a Hyperhuman at times. It’s unlikely that Kowalski had been able to unlock the ability to mimic Jonas’ non-linear existence.”

Silence hung between the two Roths before Aiden spoke up again.

“I don’t want this hanging over you and ruining your senior year, Jim is already meeting with the Foundation to sort out graduating degrees. Take some enjoyment from seeing Jonas again, remember he sought you out to spend what precious time he had in this moment with you.”

“Thanks, I’ll uh, try to do that.”

“Now, then,” Aiden raised an eyebrow at Lorcán, “Shouldn’t you be getting to the plateau?”

“Just picking up ‘Rora first,” Lorcán beamed motioning towards the Myotis dormitories they had stopped in front of. Aiden clapped a hand down on his son’s shoulder turning to see the familiar redheaded girl waiting for him.

“Then I won’t salt your game any further.” Aiden responded, nodding to Aurora as he waved.

“My fault he’s late, won’t happen again.” He called, winking at Lorcán before going his own way.

Watching his dad walk away, Lorcán reached into his pocket, his hand bumping up against the strange object before it pulsed from his touch. Shaking his head, he adjusted the backpack slung over his own shoulder before running up to Aurora.

“Hey, lady dude, sorry that took so long, we should probably hustle.” He smiled, “But I think we should still take the scenic route, I can carry that bag for you if you want?”

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

am i too late for class?

@spicykvnt

Unfortunately yes, would have loved to have you but we don't have any spots open at this time.

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

“That went better than expected.”

The words hung in the air, a smug tone behind them as the pair of women exited from O’Neil’s office before walking towards the rear of the Administrative building. Maya’s face was covered in a triumphant smile but Teresa Torres wasn’t sharing the same sentiment.

“We’ve but won a battle, Maya.” Torres scolded, “There are plenty more to win before the war is over.” She motioned with her chin towards a door. Opening the door, Maya secured the empty room before placing her hand against the wall. Reaching out with her powers, she erected a sound proof barrier around the room before nodding towards Torres.

Lifting her phone to the side of her head, Torres waited for the voice on the other end to speak first.

“Speak.”

“Pacific Royal folded the minute their certifications were gone to the primary programs. We have permission to bring more of our people onto the island. I would suggest sending a pair of Arms in addition to the Foot.”

“Then everything is as I have foreseen it. Is there anything else you need?” The voice of Nakamura Yoshi asked from the otherside of the phone.

“Can you spare the Fist?” Torres asked. There was a pause on the other side of the line. The steady sounds of inhales and exhales before the click of a tongue as her answer came.

“I will make it so.”

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_{Location: The Southern Plateau - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean}

Welcome Home #1.057: A Terrible Idea

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: A Pacific Royal Welcome

The pair of Minotaurs emblazoned with the Blackjack emblem were waiting to be unloaded. Laden in the beds of the pair of trucks were tents and coolers, both essential parts of the annual excursion to the Southern Plateau.

The automatically erecting tents the students were accustomed to didn’t require a lot of effort and even included cots within them. Some students struggled with the weight, but the tent itself did the work once they were placed and the lever pulled. The tents were the same issue as those used by H.E.L.P.’s field agents, capable of surviving anything short of a nuclear blast. They were even climate-controlled, which was probably for the best considering that Blackjack had both extremes covered between the likes of Calliope and Lorcán.

Looking out over the center field, Tad surveyed the construction site where this year’s Homecoming Trial was to be built. Generally, the Trial was only run by freshmen who needed to be placed in a House, but often the students who aided in its construction were rewarded with the first run through. Considering there were a handful of his team members whose Trials were interrupted by Hyperion, Tad was sure they’d relish the opportunity to put together the course.

Beside Blackjack’s campsite was the one belonging to Team 78 or Firebird. A smaller team than Blackjack, they were overseen by Tad’s fiancé, Jessica Friend.

“Jess!” Tad waved to his wife-to-be, “Hey, I haven’t seen you all day!”

Greeting with a small peck on the lips, Jess smiled up at Tad.

“Oh well, I knew we both had early mornings so I wanted to get a jump on my day and you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you on my way out.” She looked around him at the campsite that had yet to be constructed.

“Ah,” She mused knowingly, “I see Blackjack is being Blackjack again.”

“They’ll get here in their own time.” Tad replied with a smile of his own, “They always do and they’ll be bringing the party with them. I’m sure by now at least half of them have some cockeyed plot to save the school from the scary Foundation.”

“Always main character energy with that lot,” Jess laughed as she pointed to a tent situated on the midpoint between the two campsites. “I’ve gone ahead and set out our tent, you should be able to keep watch on your rabble from there.”

She turned, her hand guiding Tad’s line of sight back to the construction site.

“And Robert was looking for you earlier, wanted to start picking your brain about where your crew would be best used. Said I wasn’t as familiar with their abilities, but that they’d be a handful no matter what.”

“Way to set expectations, dear.” Tad muttered with mock hurt. “I’ll go see what Robert needs, if you happen to see any of Blackjack, could you ask them to start setting up. Maybe Banjo will be more receptive to you.”

“Shut up, Tad, yer mother was a bloody ‘amster and yer father smelt o’ elderberries.” Jess retorted, doing her best attempt at the younger student’s accident. “Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with it, I probably would have put in for a transfer by now.”

“I have you,” Tad cooed, “That’s how.”

“Shut up, Tad.” Jess laughed as Tad turned to walk towards the Trial site.

“Robert!” Tad called running up to the indicated figure. Robert was a behemoth of a man, probably one of the few on campus taller than Blackjack’s own Katja. Two small horns protruded from his forehead while pointed ears accented the lower canines that extended from his bottom jaw past his upper lip. Braided jet black hair hung down to his waist while a jagged scar stretched over one of his brilliant bright green eyes nearly down to his lips and a neatly trimmed stubble beard. Depending on the light, his dark skin often took on a greenish hue.

Impressively strong, Robert was an engineering graduate student who had been leading the Trail Construction for the last two years. It was almost humorous to see Robert in a dress shirt tightly wrapped across his barrel of a chest, the top three buttons left open to allow him some movement in the rolled sleeves. The muscles in his legs may as well have made his slacks into yoga pants as next to nothing as left to the imagination.

“Thaddeus Finch.” Robert replied, his baritone rumbling out over the plateau. “Just the man I was looking for.” He replied with a hearty laugh and a pat on the back that nearly sent Tad face first into the dirt beneath him.

“Well you and maybe that Katja,” He added with a wink and elbow that again threatened to send Tad flying. “I don’t suppose your valkyrie is around.”

“Not yet.” Tad replied apologetically with a weak smile. “Jess said you wanted to go over a few things.”

“Yeah, you have twelve on Blackjack right?” Robert asked.

“That’s right, though after today’s big news, I’m not sure that’ll be the case. Some of them might have gone back to their dorms to pack.”

“Eh,” Robert chuckled lightly, “H.E.L.P. always comes out on top, I’m not too worried yet. It’s just politics.”

“Says the guy with an accredited degree.” Tad replied a bit too coldly. Robert raised an eyebrow, taking his hand off the almost comically small tablet before gesturing towards himself.

“It’s not like I was going to find a job outside this island, Thaddeus.”

“Uh, yeah I’ll have to concede there,” Tad replied, his voice trailing off as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Your team, then?”

“Right-o, yeah we have twelve. Barnes, Baxter, Cahors, de Léon, Galahad, Hisamatsu, Kruger, Mitchell, Penada, Roth, Tyler and a Banjo.”

“You have a banjo?” Robert asked.

“We have the Banjo.”

“If you insist.” Robert replied, “It’s not that remarkable of an instrument, personally, I am more of a fan of the sitar.”

“No, the Banjo who stood up to Hyperion. He’s a student.”

“I am not familiar with this student.”

“Troublemaker, pushes the rules as far as he can, kind of a rabble-rouser and all-around pain in the ass.”

“Thaddeus,” Robert replied before placing a heavy hand on Tad’s shoulder. “You’re describing a teenager.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Tad re-composed himself.

“Barnes has wings and can fly. Baxter has enhanced optical capabilities. Cahors, honestly I’m not sure, but her abilities are seemingly quite destructive. Her file has a lot of red in the ledger. There’s de Léon, she’s a cryokinetic while Galahad can multiply so he’s basically a one man workforce of a fabrication machine. Hisamatsu has arachnid physiology, web-spinning and the like. You’re already familiar with Kruger-”

“Not as much as I’d like to be, you should introduce us.”

“Ignoring that.” Tad responded, “Mitchell can teleport, Penada saps powers, Roth manipulates heat to a variety of effects, Tyler copies powers and Banjo can augment his physical state to become stronger.”

“Send Kruger and this Banjo to work on the foundation. I could use Barnes and Mitchell for supply runs. Get Roth on the structural, along with Cahors and send Tyler with them in case he can use his abilities to copy either of them to expedite the process. I could use Galahad to fill a couple of positions. Put Baxter, de Léon and Hisamatsu on the interior theatrics.”

“That just leaves Penada,” Tad replied.

“Put her with the three inside. They’ll need to come up with some kind of theme.”

“When I did it back in 2015, it was themed around surviving a robot taking over the world. ‘Era of Epitome’ or something.”

“That-” Robert looked Tad dead in the eyes. “-Is terrible. Do not let them do anything like that.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S

^{________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || T B D
__PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION || TBD
__SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION || TBD
__POWER SCALE || TBD
__THREAT CLASSIFICATION || TBD}

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_{L I M I T A T I O N S || T B D}

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_{W E A K N E S S E S || T B D}

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