27
Physical Education Teacher and Substitute.
6'2"

Geometry and Algebra Teacher
5'11"

29
Language Arts Teacher
5'7"

Principal
72
6'0"

He's an asshole.

Sophomore
Age: 15
Height: 5'10"

Senior
18
5'11

Senior
5'11
17

18
5'11
Senior

16
5'10"
Junior.

Age: 17
Height: 5'8"
Personality: Perky, Optimistic, Determined.
Grade: Junior.

5'5"
17
Junior

5'8
18
Senior

Age: 17

Normal Appearance:She's a little skinny, and short to boot, but generally there's not too much about Leah that seems out of the ordinary; or inconsistent, for that matter. In general, she's all for putting in a little extra effort to keep up appearances, whether that means dragging herself out of bed early to fix her hair, pulling a few all-nighters between work and school, or taking the time to meticulously select clothes that look expensive, but really aren't. It's best for her to keep that image, maintain a tiny smile even where the emotions don't match, and always be casual, but not in a way that says she doesn't care. Sure, maybe it's a little difficult to do at times, and she's been caught nodding off in class more than once, but that's normal - and above all else, Leah isn't about to let herself fall below that particular standard.

After all, who would ever be satisfied with that?

Medium Appearance: Her channelled form doesn't gain any particular size or extra physical properties. There are a couple of changes to her features, eyes flipping to those of a green-eyed cat, and teeth gaining a somewhat unnerving sharpness. Further, her clothing becomes snaked with plants - yellow roses that rapidly flower, though they don't seem to have any particular effect on her. Overall, though, she doesn't appear particularly far from human; but there's enough little things 'off' about it to make her appearance unnerving, if nothing else.

Her catalyst, similarly understated, is a small, broken, mirror.

Channeling Abilities, Spells, Stats, etc:



When channelling, Leah can choose to leech certain properties from another - life force, physical strength, physical energy, and when confronting a spirit, spiritual energy. Depending on what's absorbed, the properties are stored differently. However, it's a zero-sum game; everything she gains, another must lose.

Strength absorption: by leeching the physical strength of another, Leah's channelling form gains that strength for itself. The strength seems to persist indefinitely, unless used up through her spirit charge, but seeing as there's only so much that can be absorbed from one person (at least without raising some serious suspicions), the buildup is something that generally has to be done over time.

• Atrophy: She can focus on absorbing from a specific place in order to specifically weaken it - however, she needs to actively maintain focus in order for this to work, and therefore actually doing it in combat is a pretty big ask.
• Focused hit: Leah can focus her stored strength into a single area of her body for a brief moment, resulting in a far more powerful blow but leaving her off-balance and vulnerable for a brief moment afterwards.

Physical energy: this type of absorption is temporary, but also ultimately harmless; she could use it to gain extra energy after running herself down. By draining someone, she can either exhaust them, or if completed, put them straight to sleep.

• Adrenaline Rush: she can use some stored energy to essentially "kick-start" her system and trigger an adrenaline rush, though it doesn't have any particularly notable qualities beyond what one would hold for anyone.
• Wakeup Call: In a similar vein, she can force some energy into another person to wake them up or give them a slight boost where they're exhausted or otherwise need it.

Spiritual energy: where she's used up a great deal of spiritual energy, she can drain it from others to replenish that and improve her own staying power. However, it must be used with caution; there isn't a safety valve on this ability, and it would be easy to pass her own limit if she absorbed too much at once.

• Spiritual Overload: she can force spiritual energy into a spirit or medium in an attempt to push them over their limit, and cause whatever damage may result.
• Lure: though more of an unintentional side-effect than an ability, when she takes in extra spiritual energy, she naturally shows up far more on the radars of spirits and shades, drawing their attention, and often their ire.

Vitality: the most damaging ability in her arsenal, and perhaps one she uses more frequently than she should - on contact, she can drain the vitality of another. With 30 seconds of contact, she can drain 1/8th of a person’s overall vitality.

Repeated use of this ability on someone can potentially lead to a shorter life span and a range of health complications, while even absorbing a fraction of their vitality can still cause some degree of illness.

1/8th to 3/8ths of drained vitality can be recovered given a time period ranging from a full rest to a couple of days. 4-7/8ths will leave the person severely ill and hospitalised, with a slight chance of death. 7/8ths drained would have a high mortality rate, while a full drain means death.

Also must be done by touch and only drain/heal one person at a time

• Persistence: Healing, but not really - she can't repair a person's wounds, or cure their illnesses, or reverse the effects of time on their body. What she can do is force that stored 'life' into them, and painfully make them stay alive until the store runs out. The healing conversion of the vitality she has absorbed is roughly half of what was taken.
• Acceleration: When using it offensively, she can focus some of this energy into internally "blocking" some processes, preventing them from healing or recovering.

Grade: Junior

Personality: Leah comes off as quite the studious, dedicated type, and sticks rigorously to a schedule, but makes an effort to seem laid-back about it; even though she's not exactly got much time to do anything for herself. Really, she's not difficult to get along with, but tends to go with the flow a lot - in all honesty, she's sort of a pushover, and it's easy to get her to back down or let herself be pushed into something she wouldn't want to do.

As far as her attitude towards others, the lack of a backbone definitely carries over in most things, but she's at least friendly on a surface level, if a little slow to genuinely trust. However, there's sort of an undercurrent of resentment in her attitude, kept private - a yearning for the things she can't have, and frustration at the responsibilities she can't escape. Leah's a person used to being priority number two, and even though she can logically understand where people are coming from... it's a very different thing from avoiding the emotional effect.

In any case, it's safer to be anonymous than to let your personality shine through - but that doesn't exactly keep her from wanting things to change.

Background: Leah was always a pretty well-behaved kid, but never anything even a little beyond average, unless you counted her spiritual energy levels - which, really, she didn't. Her family weren't, and still aren't, rich, but could at least afford to provide essentials and the occasional treat, even if they weren't exactly home a lot. Her first school, in contrast, was mostly a pretty well-off demographic (with some occasional outliers like herself), leaving her to feel a little out of place. Luckily, they were still kids, and she managed to get along with people, but as she grew up she became keenly aware of the things she lacked and they had, and the jokes fired her way began to sting just that bit more.

But she could learn, and did, spending almost all her saved-up money on things to keep up appearances, terrified of being left behind and pushed aside by everyone. Her parents didn't approve of it, with all the effort they'd put in to teaching her to save, and couldn't help being frustrated at her explanations and complaints about the school they'd been thrilled to have her eligible for. So she kept going, but kept quiet, letting herself fade into the background of every conversation, happy enough to at least have people that'd hang out with her, even if they didn't wanna hear her talk.

This year, however, that all changed; her sister fell ill, missed by everyone for too long since they couldn't afford to see a doctor - too long for it to be fixed, and too long for her chances to be high, though they were still existent. They had to move, urgently, selling their home to fund things and moving into her grandparents' old home in Lakewood. Nonetheless, with the medical bills coming into play, Leah had to find a job as soon as possible, maintaining her school career - not that it was anywhere near what they'd need to cover it.

And so Leah's initial jealousy of others turned bitter, and desperate - and finally, that spiritual potential she had came into play. A shade found her, found where she was, what was happening, and made her an offer she just couldn't refuse. She didn't even hesitate to accept, and Envy has been more than willing to guide her forward.

Other: At this point, it's been a few months since she and her family moved to Lakewood.
She's secretly a pretty fantastic cook, and gets super excited if she actually gets proper ingredients to do so.
Really focused on money, for good reason, and can have kind of a one-track-mind in that regard.

Spirit Name: Envy, The Parasitic

Spirit Classification: Meta

Spirit Personality: A subtle type of predator, Envy is more of the manipulative type than a fan of the direct approach. It's certain in what it does, and doesn't particularly feel for anyone or anything else, spending its time ever-subtly pushing its host into gaining more and more. It's rather possessive, not quite protective of its host as a friend, but rather as a prized possession, something and someone that it can own. As such, it does try to understand what makes people tick, if only to try and get what it wants from them - and its tricks are more than effective when it comes to directing Leah herself.

Spirit Appearance:


It's unclear what exactly Envy is, but it tries to take as nonthreatening a form as possible, and thus appears at least somewhat humanoid to Leah, if still very far from human. The head and hands are replaced with a twisting, living smoke, and its 'voice' through their bond somehow sounds like ten people speaking at once.

Sealed Appearance: Envy takes on the form of a small, black, ribbon around Leah's throat while sealed.

Spirit Charge: Unleashed Hoard: If absolutely necessary, the medium and spirit can unleash all the energy they've stored over time in one single blast of power - however, it can't be moderated. All of it will be used up, and they will be reduced back down to their base, unimproved, strength.

Other Information: Envy hasn't actually informed Leah of the limit on how much life they can store, and doesn't plan to do so anytime soon. After all, it does want to build up its power.

The room was beautiful. Empty, quiet, but the carpet was soft under her feet, and the walls were intricately decorated with patterns she couldn't make sense of. They were moving, she registered dimly, eyes tracing the glowing golden lines that crossed stark white, contrast only serving to keep her focused on it. There was some kind of smell in the air, pleasant and warm, as though someone had been baking recently.

It felt safe, didn't it?

"It's surprising," a voice reverberated, "to find a mortal so desperate for contract. You might count yourself lucky that you had a chance at all."

And she caught herself then, startled almost out of her skin and retreating back with a yelp, looking around for the sound of the voice and landing on a... suit. It wasn't as frightening as she'd expected it to be - it was just strange. Maybe she should have been worried by that most of all, but this thing seemed to at least want her comfortable. Not that it would be for her benefit, but none of this was about her anyway. Things never were, right?

"You-- what are you? Who are you?"

"You may call me Envy." It didn't particularly care what her name was, but it needed her at ease, needed the process to be simple, "what might you be called, desperate one?"

"Leah. I'm Leah. I need..." her voice was shaky, despite herself, "I need power. To help her. I need you to--"

If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn the smoky mass that the thing had instead of a head smiled at that, extending an arm. Was she... supposed to walk? It was the best guess she had, so she went with it, and allowed the spirit to talk. Maybe it was just trying to get her guard down, she couldn't be sure, but her feet moved regardless, doors opening to a hall that she'd have sworn wasn't there a moment ago. "Tell me, mortal, what is it you see here?"

"Paintings, I guess-- no, they're photos, too. Families. It's warm and everyone's smiling, and it's sunny, there's nothing to, um... I don't know. I don't know what you want me to say."

That phrase, in particular, pleased the spirit. The deferment, the power, the ease with which this one could be moulded. Yes, it was something he could work with. Something he could use. "This place, my dear, is safety - it is desire, the things you wish you could gain. The things that you will have, if you simply listen."

And it made sense, somehow, the truth of the words becoming clear to her. The photos, the paintings, the safe feeling, the simple expense of everything they walked through. It felt too good to be true - that she could gain all of that. But she wasn't very sure what she had to lose, and so she just had to finish with the last, most important question. "How? If you have all this to give, then - then you wouldn't need me anyway, right?"

It seemed to anger the spirit, smoke flickering and twisting violently for a split second before it calmed just as quickly. "You are right, regrettably. I do not have it, yet; and neither do you. I cannot give you these things, your wealth, your safety, whatever brought you to this place--"

"My sister. She- she's sick. It's for--"

"Yes, yes, your sister. I cannot give you her health. But I can show you how to take it. And then, my dear, we shall have all this and more."

"I'll be able to fix her?"

"Listen to me, trust me," its voice was smooth, calm, certain that it had her, "and we can ensure she doesn't die. All you have to do is take what you know you deserve."

She didn't have to think for long. This spirit seemed trustworthy, this place comfortable, and the opportunity it provided... she had to accept, in the end, didn't she? She'd save her. Even if that meant someone else had to lose.

"Then teach me how to take it, Envy."

Name: Alexander Kozlov

Age: 15

Normal Appearance:

Alex stands at about 5'10", with a thin figure that possesses the beginnings of lean musculature, reminiscent of someone that had only recently gotten tired of being called scrawny and decided to hit the gym. His hair is usually unruly and bleached to a stark platinum, and his eyes are a dark brown that appear almost black without direct lighting.

Medium Appearance:

While transformed, Alex's hair reverts to its natural brunette and his body bulks up a tad to a more respectable size, though he's still hardly imposing. He dons a padded, high-collared jacket, reinforced along the shoulders, forearms, and chest with protective plating and adorned with scuffed metal trim that hardly even reflects light that hits it. His glasses are replaced with the edgy visage of a human skull, which to his relief inexplicably still corrects his eyesight.

Channeling Abilities, Spells, Stats, etc.: Alex's catalyst takes the form of a longsword forged of dark, tarnished metal. Strikes wrought with the weapon leave a festering, necrotizing wound in flesh and leave inorganic materials in a state of age and corrosion around the point of impact. While Alex gains some of The Ram's sheer physicality to bolster his strength and general stamina, his bladework still is mostly dependent on cues given by the spirit at this point, rather than practiced skill. As for more magical abilities, his touch can degrade and weaken beings he makes contact with. Quick taps can induce minor damage and malaise, where prolonged contact results in an area of rot and atrophy that creeps outward from the point of impact, until the target wastes away into nothing but dust, should the touching hypothetically last forever. Alex can extend the range of this ability by extending fungoid hyphae from his hands or catalyst, which act as prehensile tendrils that adhere to their targets and corrode them, albeit at a slower rate.

Grade: 10th

Personality: Until recently, if one were to ask anyone how they'd describe Alex Kozlov, they'd either respond with "Who?" or give a listless description of a meek boy that kept to himself most of the time. While he's still unpopular and hardly achieving cult leader-levels of charisma, he'd gained a great deal of confidence seemingly overnight. Alex is still fairly quiet and doesn't go out of his way to socialize, though he's eager to talk to people when approached - almost pathetically so - and is rare to show any intentional rudeness unless the other party initiates it. He shows a great deal of reverence when interacting with his familiar, going so far as it address it by honorifics like 'my Lord' at times. He's aware that the spirit doesn't hold all of the cards in their Pact, though he views The Ram as a being that is far beyond him and has yet been generous to him, and thus believes his admiration is warranted.

Background: Alex was born the youngest son of a family of five on the West Coast. His parents divorced when he was 11, and Alex moved with his mother and older sister to Lakewood while his other sibling remained with their father. Alex hadn't exactly been a social butterfly before this, and upon moving to a new school he found himself easy prey for bullies with his timid mannerisms and lack of friends. It didn't help that he started dyeing his hair around this time either - he thought it looked cool, others disagreed.

His middle school career was mostly dominated with being picked on or occasionally slapped around, though he was never beat up enough for anyone to warrant it a serious problem, even if his self esteem suffered horribly in the meantime. Alex lacked the willpower or strength to stand up for himself, so he simply let the bullying happen; he didn't know what to do otherwise. This lessened in high school, as it seemed his tormentors had simply grown bored of him, though very few wished to associate with Alex given the social suicide it would entail. He held acquaintanceships with classmates at most, and no one he'd consider a genuine friend.

This changed upon the night he forged his pact with The Ram. Alex, of course, was not deluded enough to think some eldritch horror of death and decay would lower itself to be his friend, but the spirit offered motivation to him in its own gruff way. Their pact gave him a purpose and sense of security, no one could harm him - mortal or otherwise. His confidence skyrocketed in the following weeks; he started working out, he stopped being afraid of conversation, he was even willing to tell bullies off when they insulted him (and luckly, has yet to be punched for it), though he remained secretly wary of the supernatural threats that The Ram continuously assured him would be coming.

Spirit Name: The Ram That Heralds Winter's Coming (Usually shortened to 'The Ram' by Alex; possibly an epithet and not a true name)

Spirit Classification: Guardian

Spirit Personality: The Ram is a spirit of decay; it embodies the death of nature so that old life may return to the soil and give way for something new to sprout. The spirit speaks to mortals in demands and condescensions, but it does not outright despise humanity. In its mind, the fall of spiritkind was merely a state that they must suffer in order to be born again, much like a tree in the winter. While concerned mostly with destruction, it is not wholly malevolent; the absence of life entirely makes creation impossible. It only seeks to destroy that which can be replaced by something greater. At present, it sees no better target than its fellow spirits - they are old, and their power would be fitting fuel for The Ram's renewal.

Spirit Appearance:

The Ram appears as a hulking mass of gnarled plantlife, looking as though a tree had grown roughly in the shape of a man before it died and started rotting. The roots converge at the spirit's head, which is covered by - or perhaps composed of - the skull of a ram, toting a sizeable rack of horns. Looking into any of the skull's orifices reveals only a cold, empty void. As it moves, The Ram sheds leaves in various shades of autumnal red, which shrivel and decay into nothingness before they ever touch the ground.

Sealed Appearance: When sealed, The Ram takes on the form of a tarnished silver ram's head medallion that Alex keeps tucked under his shirt at all times. The spirit can also appear as an unsettling black sheep with eyes that seem to look right through whomever they gaze upon, though this is far less inconspicuous and thus a form rarely adopted by the spirit.

Summoning Abilities and Stats: The Ram fights up close and personal, using its impressive physical strength to batter the opponent into submission and then rot it into nothingness with a mass of tendrils that emerge from within The Ram's plantlike body to bind their target in a more brutal variant of Alex's wasting touch. It can additionally rub spores from its body off on those it nears, which germinate on contact to entrap the victim in a mycelium of tendrils that continue to decay the target without The Ram's continuous touch. It possesses a great deal of stamina, which helps it greatly as the battle drags on and its withering abilities diminish the enemy's strength. Nevertheless, the spirit is limited by range in most cases and cannot extend its tendrils more than a few feet from its body at most.

Spirit Charge: Not Attained

Alex awoke in a verdant forest - or, at least he thought he awoke there; he didn't remember how he got there. Then again, he didn't remember falling asleep outside either, nor could he think of a reason why he'd ever be this deep in a forest to begin with. He must've been dreaming, but... everything felt so real. It was quiet though, almost eerily so, and there was a distinct mildewy stench in the air.

The sound of heavyset footsteps split the silence shortly after Alex had gotten his bearings. When he turned toward the source, he saw only a horned silhouette lumbering toward him. A bear? No, bears don't walk on two legs. Bigfoot? No, he wasn't real. Right? Right?

The stench grew stronger as the figure approached. As it made its way into the clearing, the grass beneath its feet started to wilt, and the trees in its wake shed their leaves as though fall had miraculously come and passed into winter in a matter of a few seconds. Even more dead leaves fell from the figure itself, desiccating into dust even faster than the foliage from the trees. It stood at least a head taller than Alex, if not more, and looked more like it was covered in decaying tree bark than any kind of skin. It focused its gaze - could he even call it a gaze? It was a fucking skull, it had no eyes - down on Alex, regarding him coolly as the forest continued to die around them. Alex alone was immune to the effect, and though he didn't want to stick around to test how long that would last, he found himself paralyzed by the haunting stare of the skull-thing's eyeholes.

By the time the creature spoke, the once-lush greenery around them had degraded into lifeless shades of brown and gray. The trees now stood as withered husks of rotting wood, and even the sun itself seemed to dim behind a sudden overcast.

'You grow pale, human, but you needn't despair. You possess more worth alive than dead.' The monster spoke but did not speak. No words were uttered, but Alex heard them clearly.

"What... what are you?" He stammered out in response. Gathering information was all he could think to do. The thing's visage was so terrifying he couldn't even cower, let alone run. Maybe that was a good thing. Flinching never helped before.

'I am the reason your kind once feared to walk the wilderness alone at night.' Very comforting. 'I am the death that takes your world every autumn so that it may rise again in the spring, I am The Ram That Heralds Winter's Coming.' The last words boomed more heavily in his mind than the others, but none of that told him anything. He wasn't sure if he should dare ask more.

'I have a proposition for you,' The Ram That Hera- The Ram continued, 'It has been far too long since my kind walked this earth as anything more than a pathetic shadow of our former glory. The time of our renewal is nigh. You will aid me in this.'

He would... what?

"I-I don't think I follow."

'A deal, mortal, a pact. You are weak. I will make you strong. In return, you will do the same for me. Your soul burns brightly - it is nourishment. I will shield it from others who would feast upon it with far less restraint than I.'

That hardly sounded tempting to Alex. Especially when the offer was being extended by something that introduced itself as something humans used to fear. It certainly didn't look friendly. He'd heard about spirits before, of course, and he'd seen people talk about them online, but he'd just assumed it was creepypasta garbage meant for cheap scares. Was it true they ate people? Was he tasty to these things?

'You are unconvinced,' The Ram concluded, 'Very well. Tell me your desires, that I may grant them. Finding another better suited to syncronize with will be tiresome.'

What did he even want? Friends? This thing wasn't going to be his friend. How old even was it? Hundreds, thousands, millions of years old? At this point, all Alex wanted was to wake up and forget this weird dream ever happened.

"Wh-what if I won't do it?" His knees were shaking, the only bit of movement his body could muster. He felt sick. This thing would kill him for his defiance. He could barely stand up to mean high schoolers, why was he playing games with this veritable god?

'Then you will be food for the next wayward shade that deems you worth the effort to consume. I've scared off other spirits that hungered for you, I shall not do so again. This deal is mutually beneficial. I would protect you as my charge, offer you the chance to stand over your world as a king as it is reborn from its own ashes, what qualms could you possibly have?' The Ram's tone did not belie a hint of irritation. It stood patiently, unmoving, willing to barter for however long it took to secure a host.

"Something tried to eat me?!"

'Yes. The decision is simple; life or death. I was under the impression your kind always chose the former.'

If it wanted to hurt him, wouldn't it have done so already? It made threats, but not of its own power. It claimed to want to be his protector. He'd never had one of those before. Maybe he would've liked one. Bullies would've shat themselves if they saw this monstrosity following him around.

"Can you... can you protect me from anything I want?"

'As a pact would make your demise unpleasant for me, yes,' The Ram uttered bluntly. Alex felt its unerring gaze lessen in intensity. It was pleased with this development; it had to be.

"Then I..." What the hell was he doing? "I..." He didn't like being weak, or alone, or eaten. This was as close to a miracle as he was going to get in life, "I accept!"

He felt lightheaded at first. The Ram didn't respond, it simply held out its gnarled hand - slowly, nonthreateningly. Alex didn't remember what happened after that. He woke up for real in his bed this time, feeling a cold weight on his chest. It was metal; mostly flat, oddly shaped, engraved. Alex held it closer to his face for a better look. An image of a ram's head. Eerily similar to the skull he'd just seen in his dream.

'Do not lose that, mortal. We are of no use to each other separated.' The Ram's voice-that-wasn't-a-voice echoed in his mind. Like a literal waking nightmare.

Name:
Norman Hitchcock

Age:
14

Normal Appearance:



Norman typically wears formal attire, seldom being seen without a tie. He keeps a large backpack containing most of his 'directing supplies,' which includes a clapper board, an electric megaphone, a collapsable Shotgun Microphone, a tripod, and a folding chair. He barely has enough room for his actual school supplies. The most casual outfit he is willing to wear is a beret, scarf, polo shirt, and khakis.

Norman stands at 166 centimeters (5'5") and weighs 59 kilograms (130 pounds). His voice is very animated when he is interested in something, but respectful and somewhat distant when he is bored. His most prominent feature is the fact that he is almost constantly taking pictures of things around him, or recording while talking to the camera.

Medium Appearance:
Norman does not change too drastically when his Familiar is out - his eyes change slightly, gaining an appearance similar to a Camera lens, and his eyes shutter when he blinks in this form. Other than this, he is completely unchanged. This allows him to be very subtle with his medium activities.

Grade:
Freshman

Personality:
Norman is extremely annoying, naive, and obsessive above all else. He clings onto people like glue, doing his best to make a positive impression and get attention from them. He finds people fascinating, constantly focusing on their 'roles' and how they fit into his life. Norman believes that greatness can come from anywhere, and the situation doesn't matter - what matters is how a person responds to their surroundings, and their actions. Norman's fascination is mainly linked to his love of cinematography - he feels that he may be able to jumpstart his directing career if he can find a good cast of characters, and he is constantly on the lookout for people who would fit the bill. Or, at least, that's what Norman tells himself.

As can probably be assumed, Norman is consumed by cinema - both viewing movies and directing itself. Norman's greatest dream is to become a well-respected director and create films like the ones he grew up with. Norman especially loves horror films and thrillers.

Norman is unused to talking to people and lacks any real friends. Because of this, he is very quick to please others in an attempt to get them to like him. He can appear like a doormat and naive child because of this, and it's a pretty accurate description of him. When complimented, however, he'll get a somewhat inflated ego. Norman is extremely fond and protective over his familiar, Bokeh, viewing it as one of the only friends he's ever had - he is completely oblivious and dismissive towards the fact that Bokeh only tolerates him to return to its True Form.

Background:
Norman spent his entire life in Lakewood, being the child of a fairly wealthy couple. While Norman grew up with nearly anything he could ever want, his parents were distant due to their careers and the stress placed on them. They loved him as much as any parent could, but Norman lacked the close familial bond that most children develop. Norman's parents, exhausted from their young child's attempts to get their attention while they were trying to rest, began relying on television to keep him occupied. Growing up on older films, Norman attached a feeling of affection and nostalgia to them and slowly grew to value them over nearly anything else in his life.

Upon entering middle school, Norman quickly realized that his interests were starting to alienate him from his peers. He tried encouraging others to look into cinema, but when his classmates didn't enjoy them, Norman grew very upset and wanted to distance himself from people who didn't enjoy his favorite pastime. He eventually learned that acting more animated and excited would get more attention from his teachers and peers, and was quick to adopt an appropriate persona. As the years went on, this persona eventually became more than just an attempt to get people to pay attention to him, and it became his natural behavior.

When Norman found Bokeh, and the two went into a pact, Norman finally felt that he had a true friend. He became almost inseparable with the spirit, keeping it's sealed form on his person at almost all times. This is a very clear weakness, as Norman got suspended after violently assaulting a classmate that took the camera and refused to return it. Norman regrets this in hindsight since he could have simply had Bokeh escape and return to him at a later point in time.

Other:
Norman loves Alfred Hitchcock, with his favorite film of all time being Rear Window.

Spirit Name:
Bokeh

Spirit Classification:
Machina

Threat Level:
Category 1

Spirit Personality:
In contrast to it's Medium's very flamboyant persona, Bokeh lacks any real creative outlook or passion, instead embodying the very essence of a pragmatic survivor. Years as a Shade has grated Bokeh's sense of pride and honor into nonexistence and inflated it's hatred towards humanity to incredible bounds. It's main reasoning for even offering to become Norman's Familiar was to gather information on other mediums and learn more about human weaknesses, which Bokeh feels is enough to tolerate Norman's presence. For information and the chance to more easily manipulate humans near it, Bokeh will go to extreme lengths - it is very obedient towards Norman solely to make the Medium trust it more and be more vulnerable around it.

Spirit Appearance:



Bokeh is one of the smaller spirits, being roughly the same size as the average Crow. The only outlandish aspect of its appearance is the fact that it has a small camera in place of an actual head. This camera is functional, capable of recording video and taking photos in very high resolutions, and possessing several additional features - including Infrared, Thermal, impressive Zooming, and Audio recording. While it can speak in a somewhat distorted and scratchy voice, it much prefers communicating via pact connection or creating photographs via its illusion ability.

Sealed Appearance:
While Sealed, Bokeh takes the form of a small camera, which is the same as the one located on its True Forms head.

Summoning Abilities and Stats:
Bokeh can only be summoned and lacks any Spirit Charge. While normally this boosts a Spirit's Abilities in all aspects, Bokeh seems to benefit almost exclusively in terms of Range and Duration. It can move 250 meters away from Norman and can be kept in physical form for hours before Norman's energies are depleted. Other than this, however, Bokeh is nearly identical to a normal bird, being fairly fragile and physically impotent. It's most redeeming capability is its mobility and flight, allowing it to cross its range in a very short time for a Spirit with no speed enhancements.

Special Effects:
The first Focus Bokeh possesses, Special Effects is a specialized type of illusion that is meant to disorientate and trick other creatures and Spirits. It causes beings near Bokeh to perceive effects or objects that don't exist - such as seeing and feeling a stone wall that doesn't exist, or feeling the heat of a fire that isn't really there. These illusions affect the appropriate senses, and while someone could feel pain from an imaginary effect, it is nowhere near as painful as the real version and does no physical damage. It is based on belief - if the target has reason to not believe an illusion (They know Bokeh uses illusions and assume this is one of them, or Bokeh flies through an illusionary wall), then the illusions only affect their sense of sight. These illusions can only appear within 20 meters of Bokeh.

Stunt Double:
Bokeh is capable of generating semi-real copies of itself, for a relatively cheap energy cost. These copies persist as long as Bokeh wishes them to, and they are capable of replicating any action the original can perform. These copies have the same intelligence as Bokeh itself but are instilled with a goal during their creation that they seek to accomplish before disappearing. While they are just as weak and fragile as Bokeh itself, they are far more willing to perform suicidal actions, and will usually aim for soft vital parts of enemies or cram their bodies into an enemy spirits mouth to block it. These doubles disappear upon death or dismissal, but anything they record can be saved on an SD card or USB if a real one is given to the double before recording. Only the original Bokeh can use Special Effects, the copies are effectively just crows with cameras.

Other Information:
Bokeh is occasionally ordered to send Doubles to search for lost valuables or money. They mostly return with change or singe dollars, if they come back at all, but it is a free source of income.

The biggest weakness in the pair is Bokeh's physical weakness - It is only as strong as the average Crow, and raw numbers can't combat an exceptionally durable Spirit. Combine this with the fact that Norman is unable to Channel in any way, and a surprise or direct confrontation will always end with the pair's defeat.

Bokeh's Special Effects, while capable of causing living things and spirits to feel real pain and experiences, are still just illusions. They do not affect physical objects or creatures, making it useless as a tool or a form of defense. All it can do is trick other beings, and warp their senses. An illusionary fire, for example, can't light up an area - it can only trick someone into thinking it does, and it's pretty bad at that.

Norman's personality is a massive block on the combat potential of the pairing. While he has no qualms with attacking opposing spirits, Norman will often not strike when he has the opportunity to quickly end a fight, viewing it as anticlimactic. Instead, he'll record the fight until he is satisfied, possibly going as far as to allow a seemingly harmless spirit to escape. While Bokeh usually curbs this aspect of Norman's personality, it is not a full-proof foil to this aspect of Norman.

The soft leather of a recliner gently caressed Norman's skin as he sat in the theater. The lights were still on, yet nearly every seat in the house was occupied by suited men - except instead of heads, they had cameras sprouting out of their necks. At first, Norman was relaxed, used to similar dreams in the past - perhaps the feature film would be directed by Norman himself, and everyone in the theater would give him a standing ovation after it was over. The theater itself was immaculate, lacking the usual sticky floors and annoying noises of other patrons. The lights slowly faded, and Norman noticed that a large bucket of popcorn was at his feet - the perfect film-watching food. Norman threw pieces into his mouth as text appeared on the screen upfront.

'The featured film is about to play. Please turn off all electronic devices, and be silent throughout the film - if you cause a disturbance, you will be removed from the theater.'

Norman smirked at that. The only way someone would be a disturbance during his film in his dream would be if it was actually a nightmare. Norman was going to eat some more popcorn before he noticed the man to his right slump over. As Norman looked around, he saw that the people around him were touching the sides of their camera heads, before seemingly collapsing. Before he knew it, Norman was the only conscious person in the entire theater.

The film was starting, without any pre-show advertisements or acknowledgments of studios that worked on it. Images appeared on the screen, before changing to the next image alongside a loud, digital clicking sound. An empty house, followed by a makeshift nest of feathers and film rolls. A child's corpse was the next image and caused Norman to tense somewhat. It was... too realistic for Norman's usual means - guts splayed out and seemingly radiating heat. A man running through the decrepit house was next, and then the man was shown hiding against a wall, displayed in a thermal vision.

Norman fully realized the reality of the situation when he saw a screenshot from one of his favorite movies, The Birds. Dozens of crows crowded together on a playground jungle gym, seemingly nonchalant to their photographs being taken. Norman loved the older films but knew that including actual screenshots were not the smartest idea - if he really made the film that was playing, he would have at most remade the scene on his own, rather than show the original film's portrayal. The next image was seemingly the same, as was the one after that. As they shifted faster and faster, Norman realized the differences. Each image, another crow's head was replaced with the same camera as the one the members of the audience had. Soon, every crow had a camera - and they started moving towards the audience. It was slow, almost as if they were trying to hide it. Just as one of them took up the majority of the screen by itself, the entire theater was plunged in pitch blackness, the projector shut down.

Norman breathed heavily, nearly hyperventilating. Unbeknownst to him, this was the exact thing that the Crows wanted. A bright light appeared, and Norman yelped as he saw that one of the Crows was right next to him, a photo coming out of the back of its head. It took several tense seconds of silence before Norman finally reached for the photo, somehow able to see it clearly despite the total lack of light.

In the photo, the crows were all in their original positions, but there was another figure with them. Norman was laughing, playing on the jungle gym, accompanied by a single crow with a camera. The real Norman, the one that wasn't in the photo, was nearly shaking in fear.

"W... Why are you doing this to me? W-What have I done?"

Another flash of light, although Norman was much faster to retrieve the photo that emerged. The camera bird was being stomped on by some man and was bleeding excessively. It was followed by a second picture, which depicted Norman kicking the same man repeatedly in the stomach, with a few people that Norman didn't recognize also lying on the ground.

"Revenge? I, uh... I'm not sure if that's a great idea for me..."

Another flash, far too fast for comfort. The photo had Norman surrounded by bills of some currency he didn't recognize. After a few seconds of looking at it, another photo was made - almost as if expecting Norman to deny the offer. This one had him walking on a group of people, bowing to him. Norman frowned at this and was about to speak before another photo was quickly shot. The final photo portrayed Norman alongside the bird, shaking hands with famous actors and filmmakers who were eager to grab his attention. A red carpet, a fancy suit, and he was coming out of a nice long limousine...

Norman reluctantly offered a hand to the bird, and the theater instantly lit up, the audience coming back to life suddenly. They all turned towards Norman, lenses contracting as if they were focusing on him, and began applauding as if he just performed some amazing feat. Norman slowly grinned at the sight, basking in the attention he was being fed, and the chance to finally achieve his dream.

Age: 18

Normal Appearance: Her mom always said that her blue eyes were deep and pretty and were her best quality. They made her think of the ocean, she’d say. Savannah's eyes stare and gaze with uncommon intensity, and she always looks like she’s absorbing the things that happen around her very carefully with them. She is an uncommonly active gazer and a quiet speaker. When she talks she sounds like she doesn’t really want to, and her words are just a step above whisper-quiet and usually come off as angry. She keeps very good care of her long blond hair and it smells faintly like pomegranate. She’s thought a lot about cutting it all off. Savannah is uncommonly thorough in her cleaning routine. Her makeup skills are impeccable, so she always has this carefully cultivated look of prettiness, the kind of very managed and artificial pretty. She goes thick on the eyeliner because she wants her eyes to look ‘smoky’. She puts similar care into her dress; she cares little about trends but a lot about what she wears. Her wardrobe is an eclectic mix of different styles that she all loves equally and greedily. Everything, at the very least, is uniquely ‘her’ even if it’s a transplant of muddled inspirations. So she feels. She feels smaller than most other people at five feet even, weighing ninety pounds.

Medium Appearance: As a medium, Savannah's hair turns ashy white to match the appearance of Nemeos. Her eyes become beady and the iris grows until her eyes are all white, like the eyes of the lion. The claws of Nemeos push through her fingertips, and her teeth sharpen to deadly points. Her skin doesn't change appearance much, but it feels harder and leathery to the touch. Besides this, the transformation brings with it no particular clothes or other changes.

Channeling Abilities: While channeling, Savannah takes on the power of the Lion of Nemea. Uniquely, Savannah's foci fuses to her own body, taking the form of the Nemeos’s deadly-sharp claws. The claws shoot through where her fingernails usually are, and though they are small and somewhat unassuming they are much sharper than any man-made weapon, capable of tearing through metal with ease. Additionally, her skin takes on the properties of Nemeos’s hide, able to deflect swords and bullets and very resistant to damage. Even though she may be able to deflect and endure attacks, she still feels the impact. This means that she is far from invulnerable, but very durable. Nemeos was once a very deadly fighter, and the lion’s instincts often take over for Savannah. While channeling she becomes a much more capable hand-to-hand fighter than she had ever been before.

Grade: Senior

Personality: I’m not brave or strong, she thought, and I’m definitely not a fighter. There were a number of other things she wasn’t: particularly nice, particularly sociable, funny, or likable. Savannah was sullen or solemn or some combination of adjectives that just meant she was not very good to be around. At least, that’s what pretty much everyone though, and she reasoned that if they thought it they must have a very good reason to. Because she rarely felt like talking to people, even if she wanted to. She was sure she was a perfectly great person in spite of it. Maybe she could even be some sort of hero with the power to, she thought, except her hands got all shaky when she thinks about shades and spirits.

Maybe it was just everyone else that made it hard.

Background Savannah thought she’d do much better in a snowy sleepy little cabin than the city, but she born in Lakewood and that was where she’d stay for now. She had a normal family with a mom and a dad that got divorced like most normal families these days did. She never liked it. She does well in school and doesn’t get in trouble and feels wound very tight. Essentially, she is entirely ordinary. Like many people she doesn’t get along well with her peers for reasons that are beyond her. A lot of people have tried being her friend because she’s pretty and dresses nice, but they never did a good job of it. Maybe they just need to plumb the inland depths, but she hates fake people and most people are fake people.

Spirit Name: Nemeos is a very proud and very ancient spirit, but Savannah prefers to call him Simba.

Spirit Classifications: Guardian

Spirit Personality: He carefully nurses his wounded pride after losing in battle to a powerful medium many thousands of years ago. Nemeos considers himself far above humans, and looks down on their race. Despite this, Savannah thinks that he may have some small spot of affection for her. He rarely likes being summoned and would much rather have Savannah do the fighting. He says that she is weak and must grow strong, that she must learn to do things on her own. Nemeos stands somewhere between a mentor and a passive observer; he insists that he only cares for Savannah in the utilitarian sense. If she dies her Aura dies too, after all.

Spirit Appearance: Nemeos is old and looks old too. He is an old and proud and powerful lion, with a thick and massive mane and proportions that far exceed his mundane brethren. Although his frame is immense he looks slightly underweight. Still, he's absolutely ferocious, his claws and teeth honed deadly. His fur is white, and his eyes are a deep blue like Savannah's.

Sealed Appearance: Nemeos hates how he looks sealed, and he hates that Savannah insists on calling him Simba. He is a small, white, fluffy, and incredibly cute Pomeranian. His roar is replaced by a high pitched yip, and Savannah tries to dress him to his great distress. And he refuses to ride in her backpack to school, but he still ends up doing it in the end.


Summoning Abilities and Stats: When summoned, Nemeos embodies the great strength he once had as the Nemean Lion. He is ferocious and fast, his claws can rend nearly anything, and the strength of his hide greatly exceeds any man-made armor. Nemeos has no tricks; he is simply a very deadly fighter. Still, while he does posses supernatural strength, he has no allusion towards being the strongest in the land. He was famously defeated by a medium of incredible physique that managed to out grapple him, choking him into submission.

- Although both Savannah and Nemeos are durable and nearly impervious to cutting and stabbing, they are very susceptible to simply being out muscled. Any opponent that can bludgeon them, beat them, or grapple them will be able to take control of the fight. The hide of Nemeos is like a mythical bullet proof vest: you won't get shot, but it'll feel like you did.
- While in the heat of combat, Savannah acts on the instincts of Nemeos. Often, she may do things she doesn't fully intend to.
- While summoning, Savannah is an especially vulnerable target. She has none of the protective properties that Nemeos grants her while channeling.

The cave was dark and cold and damp and dank, and Savannah smelled something bloody. The smell of gore. Savannah had never smelled death before, but somehow she just knew. She wasn’t sure why she was in a cave. There was no light. She turned back because she felt immediately that she had to leave, that something bad was going to happen. She had to go back to where she came. But the entrance behind her was blocked by a boulder, and she felt some sense that she placed it there herself. To stop herself from going back? To stop it from escaping?

What was it?

She was starting to breath hard. She closed her eyes. Focus, focus, not here. Not now. Inhale. Five seconds. Exhale. Five seconds. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, she couldn’t keep count, she had some allusion that she could feel the synapses in her brain firing and panicking. The lion was coming, the one that had terrorized the townspeople, the one that owned Nemea. The one that lent Nemea its name. Suddenly she felt very much like a transplant in someone else’s story, recalling details of histories that meant nothing to a girl from Maryland in the year 2029. She would kill no lion, but someone came to once before. And then she heard a low growl. It was deep and dangerous. It would kill her so easily, and she would run if she could but she couldn’t. Her limbs and muscles were locking up.

And then her eyes started to adjust, she saw the blue eyes first. The lion was right in front of her with fur white like some sort of winter, crouched low and ready to pounce. She wanted to back up. She tried to, but nothing in her body would listen. All she could do was crumple. Her knees folded and she went right to the ground, fetal and vulnerable and weak.

The lion stared. And then it spoke, “Are you scared?”

She shut her eyes. She spoke to herself, not the lion, her voice shaky and fragile, ”This is a dream, just a dream.”

The lion tilted its head like it was thinking. ”Dreams are just the truths of times and places different from our own,” the voice of the lion was deep and low and gravely.

The voice made something inside her calm. She didn’t know why, and she didn’t know why she was talking to a lion, ”I don’t know what that means.”

"I could make sure you're not scared anymore. You could be strong and proud like me. Do you want that?"

"You don't look so strong and proud. You're big but thin, like you can't eat enough," Savannah wasn't sure why she was standing up to the lion. She should be scared, but she was starting to unwind. She wasn’t curled up so tight. She wouldn't talk to a lion, but this was a dream anyways.

The lion let out a noise that sounded like a chuckle. "Yes, I've been in this cave for a long time. But you can let me out."

"Well, okay."

And the pact between Nemeos and Savannah Chase was sealed just like that.

Name:Francoise K. Meriweather

Age:16

Normal Appearance:


Medium Appearance:

Her baseline appearance, which manifests a sword for her to use. No other notable improvements.

Channeling Appearance:


Channeling Abilities, Spells, Stats, etc:
There was not any particular spells when it came to her abilities. As with her own Spirit's ability, the first part of her ability was Consumption. With her and the spirit merged together, she too can eat almost everything that can go into her mouth, though slower considering she lacks the ability to devour anything larger than her mouth. Of course, this meant she was immune to any sort of material damage like radiation and poisoning, meaning she can eat poison, hazardous materials, and even that piece of meat left out on the counter on a hot summers day for 4 hours without even blinking. This also gives her the ability to literally chew her way through solid steel plates in mere seconds.

The second part was Development. With any material she has eaten, she can warp/manipulate them inside a body to anything she wished, to achieve the final part, Progress. Essentially, improvement of any body with the materials she had consumed. Depending on parts improved, a car will run better with less fuel, a gun will shoot stronger, a sword blade will be harder and sharper, etc. Because of the abilities' nature, this was not a spell that can be dispelled, because it affects the base directly rather than being an effect maintained constantly. In that meaning, it becomes an efficient ability, utilizing minimal energy to use. Different from simply summoning the spirit however, this form puts her in a massively durable state, featuring larger mechanical parts, and thicker plates to protect against attacks.

Grade:Year 4

Personality:A dreamy child moving along the world at her own pace, swimming slowly in the currents rather than make a splash or going against it. Forgetful, sleepy and clumsy, she was, at worse, an annoyance to even the most critical of eyes. Having a tendency to speak slowly, she wasn't the type to gain friends quickly or easily. The type to make sure everyone's bowl was full at a hot pot before filling their own bowl.

Background: An only child born to a single parent family, she struggles to make sure she never inconveniences her mother, making sure her hard working mother be as relaxed as possible when she returned from her job. Thus, she was never really available for playing with any friends, never really developed a deep friendship, and was very rarely available to go anywhere.

Other:

Spirit Name: Demon. While she embodies an aspect of mankind, the names that could be used to describe her are numerous, thus Franboise just calls her the demon or variations thereof.

Spirit Classifications: Meta/Null

Spirit Personality: The embodiment of "Carpe Diem", hedonist and glutton, lustful and greedy, she wants for all, and reaches for everything. Nothing was beyond her tastes, and everything was taken in stride. No taboo was too much, no experience too out there. An aggresive character, who desires only to fulfill her own selfish desires, and damned the others. A person who thinks, "What is yours is mine, and what is mine, is mine," and defends jealously over what she considers to be hers. Has a rage unbounded, like a wildfire, fast, burning intensely, but yet can extinguish so quickly, that it seemed never to be there at all.

A dangerous spirit, foe or ally.

Spirit Appearance(Their True Form):


Sealed Appearance(Their disguised Form): A smaller form of herself, in the shape of a ball jointed doll with exquisite Japanese clothings. Other than the fine make of the doll, it does not have any other immediately distinguishable features. If she wished it, the demon can move the doll figure around freely, though that was of course, highly alarming, and rarely used in the presence of others.

Summoning Abilities and Stats:
A true demon, devouring everything that can and cannot fit in her mouth, almost like a vacuum. Can devour things much faster than one would think with her mouth, being able to chew solid steel like it was jelly. Her ability was simple, especially when broken down to three phases. Consumption, with which she devours any material, Development, with which she can warp/change or morph the materials to suit her needs, then Progression, with which she can improve a body of her choosing depending on what part she has developed. Very very often, she will use it to improve herself, becoming a whirlwind of massed forms and limbs the longer one fights her.

Spirit Charge: None.

Other Information: The sword itself is wickedly sharp, which she uses with skill.

Age: 22

Normal Appearance: While Arthur’s force of personality can engage someone in an instant, his physical appearance is concerning. The man takes care of himself, and is well dressed, but he clearly seems to be suffering from some sort of chronic illness- or worse, drug addiction. While his genuine smile reaches up to his eyes, they’re framed by bags that could belong to a man 20 minutes older. Everything about the man speaks of lethargy and fatigue, even though he clearly tries to power through it. He isn’t quite frail, and would probably sport an impressive figure under different circumstances, but circumstances being what they are his six-foot figure is usually in a slouch, and the muscled he had cultivated as a youth have all but withered away. If nothing else, Arthur looks like he’s in dire need of a vacation- or ten.

Medium Appearance: When channeling, Arthur’s body becomes cloaked in black robes that shroud his face in an unnatural darkness. Two great horns grow from his skull and tower two feet over the rest of his body, though they feel weightless to him. While perhaps unsettling at first glance, the outfit overall is reminiscent of a priest, and he has an aura of… almost holiness to him. The horns act as the catalyst for his abilities, and in spite of their weightlessness are very real for anyone who might be caught on the receiving end of a charge.

Channeling Abilities: Arthur is able to imbue himself or his allies with immense strength, far surpassing normal human limitations. While nowhere near the strength of the Mother-Bull’s true form, when buffed he can lift up to a ton and carry it around with him, to say nothing of what his punches would be able to do. Still, he is not a trained fighter, and while the increased strength is a boon, his power is better spent being given to someone else. Within a range of 60 meters Arthur can lend half of this immense strength to another, though this generally leaves him otherwise useless in the fight.

Grade: University

Personality: There is a brightness to Arthur that is held back by his seemingly chronic exhaustion. The man is always quick to strike up a conversation and offer advice, but will be the first to decline to actually go and do something. There is an aura to him that has nothing to do with his spiritual energy, one that says “Yes, I actually give a shit”. Still, he’s not perfect. He can be a bit preachy, in particular when it comes to the environment, and he’s the type of vegetarian who judges those that eat meat. Easygoing but not careless, laid back but surprisingly judgmental on some things.

It annoys Arthur to no end that he can’t discern what parts of his personality are his alone, and what has been influenced by a lifelong connection to Matka-Ura. Would he have always been an understanding- even fatherly- figure if he hadn’t been raised by the great Mother-Bull? He certainly wouldn’t be an adamant vegetarian without her spitting on “Devourers” and their inclination towards consuming life. He had become increasingly calm and level headed since the spirit had begun feeding on him, but it seemed as if she could effortlessly light a fire under him like in the days of his youth. Usually to irritate him, more than anything productive.

Background: For better or worse, Arthur has always had strong ties to the world of Spirits. However, unlike most Mediums, he did not form a contract with his Spirit. No, that contract was formed for him hundreds of years ago, in a land thousands of miles away. It was a fact that he held more than a little resentment for, but after 22 years Arthur had more or less come to accept his lot in life. Still, while a life of being bonded from birth was hardly a normal one, the young man did not lead anything resembling an extraordinary life.

In fact, he’d always claim that his contract had been more of a pain in the ass than any sort of boon.

And that was at least half true.

Being bonded with Matka-Ura as a child had its benefits, and those benefits were part of its end in the centuries-long contract. Heirs to the Brzeziński line were never lacking for energy or spirit as children, both in the literal and figurative sense. The boy was never ill, and tackled both his school work and sports and a vigor that his peers couldn’t keep up with. Some tried to bully him, as children often do (Not the least because he carried a cow plushie out in the open even as he reached puberty), but Arthur was always quick to end any fight that started- much to his mother’s exasperation and his father’s understanding. Throughout it all Matka-Ura was his constant companion, though as he grew older the two developed an almost antagonistic relationship. Neither would go as far as to say they outright hated the other, but the two would constantly look for ways to irritate the other.

Considering he still was forced to carry the spirit’s childish sealed form out in the open, the great guardian spirit seemed to have the upper hand in that contest.

Still, as time went on the contract turned from beneficial to harmful. The spirit had not simply agreed to help the youths of the Brzeziński family at no cost. They would be protected until they could be used as an energy source for Matka-Ura, much as man had domesticated animals for thousands of years. Even among Mediums Arthur had always possessed an abnormally high amount of spirit energy. However, even that was not enough for the great aurochs. She was mother to an extinct species, a guardian without her natural source of energy to draw on. When she finally began feeding on the teenager’s energy the change in him was remarkable to all but his father. Arthur stopped playing sports. He stopped scoring at the top of his class. Any attempts to goad him into a fight were met with half-hearted retorts and no real action. The youth, simply put, was exhausted.

And while he has learned to manage that exhaustion over time, it has stayed with him for the entirety of the last seven years.

As a kid he always dreamed of being someone who would change the world, but as the reality of his newfound lack of drive and energy settled in, Arthur had to swallow that he would never be able to push himself to be one of those people, that he didn’t want to be anymore. It wasn’t as if the desire for change had left him, however. Instead, he settled on trying to raise the next generation of ambitious world-changers.

While his grades had slipped into a freefall since feeding Makta-Ura, the teenager was able to stabilize in his senior year of High school. And while those grades were never able to recover to where they were before his contract began sucking him dry, he was still admitted to Lakewood University in order to pursue a degree in education. Keeping up with his studies became harder every year, but it was clear to everyone he met that he was fighting through some kind of chronic illness. He was barely making his way through his program- but he was still in it. And now it was finally his chance to enter the classroom and actually do something for the first time in years.

Arthur was still exhausted, but he was finally excited for the first time in a long time.

Other:
He’d always wanted to take up boxing, a sport that probably would help him greatly right now.

His father, Leonard Brzeziński, was a State Representative for decades before retiring from public life. He too was initially known for the strange disease that now seems to infect his son, though he began making a remarkable recovery two decades ago.

Spirit Name: Matka-Ura

Spirit Personality: Matka-Ura is… bitter. A caretaker by nature, but one who has seen all of her children killed, largely by humans. She has no love for mankind as a whole, and calls them the “Devourers”- destined to consume the entire world. Still, she is also a pragmatist. Humans killed her children, but humans also tried to protect them from extinction. The Brzeziński family was one such group of humans, and after bonding with their patriarch centuries ago, she has had enough experience with mankind to come back with a mixed opinion. Mankind was contemptible, but individual humans could be stomached.

She has always had a high sense of duty and honor, and expects any agreement- even casually made- to be upheld to the letter. She may, for example, pity the strain her contract places on Arthur, but has no intention of ever easing its strain on him. A contract was made, and she would collect her due. It mattered little that the man she was now bonded to had no say in the matter.

Her great span of time spent among humans has encouraged her to actually pick up some of their languages (Namely centuries-old Polish and modern English) and she communicates freely with her bonds. Perhaps not as “Equals” in the spirit’s mind, but it was far preferable to spending centuries communicating with scattered dreams and images. She delights in spending these abilities annoying the Brzezińskis whenever possible- out of boredom if nothing else.

Spirit Appearance:
Matka-Uras is an absolutely massive auroch, even by the standards of the long-extinct cattle. A six foot tall, Arthur’s head would barely graze the underside of her stomach. Runes of unknown significance and origin cover her body, and two massive horns protrude from her head. Still, in spite of her massive size the earth seems to be untouched by her presence. Her hooves leave no marks upon the ground, and not even the grass remains bent where stands. Her entire form radiates power, dignity, and… sorrow, for those that look upon her.

Sealed Appearance:
Ever since Arthur was a child Matka-Ura has chosen to seal herself in the form of a plush mockery of herself. At first it was merely convenient- plenty of children had stuffed animals and it allowed her to communicate with him in a less alarming form- but as time went on and the growing boy asked her to change her form, she remained as she was. More than that, she began to make sure that he couldn’t get rid of her, and Arthur would often find that instead of shut in his closet like he left her, the spirit would be clipped onto his backpack by the time he got to school. She seemed to take great pleasure in irritating him this way, and even now he found himself unable to persuade her to change forms or leave him alone.

Summoning Abilities: Despite her massive size and strength, Matka-Ura’s abilities are not physical. Instead, she nurses her herd back to strength using the massive amounts of energy she has stored from centuries of feasting on the Brzeziński family’s spirit aura. While she could, technically, give energy until her reserves dried up, the Mother-Bull would outright refuse to do so, especially to aid “Devourers”. She is a pragmatist, and while she will give what she thinks she needs to in order to keep Arthur- and thus his future descendants- alive, she will keep whatever she thinks she’ll need to survive if the line suddenly dies out. She is a giver, but a stingy one.

The biggest weakness the team brings, aside from Arthur’s chronic fatigue, is Matka-Ura’s bullheadedness. The spirit has agreed to protect Arthur (And his eventual descendants) but not smite his enemies for him. Even when her true form is summoned she will refuse to do battle with it, outside of trying to ward off any enemies that might get too close. She can also be incredibly stingy with her ability to restore spirit, and woe be to anyone who asks for more than she’ll willingly give.

The two also just generally lack a fighting spirit. The Mother-Bull is reluctant to get herself involved in “Devourer affairs” and Arthur has largely lost the fiery spirit that defined his youth. If he could ever convince his spirit to give back some of the energy she’d been feeding off him, and she willingly lent her powers to a battle, the two would be an incredibly formidable force. As it stands though, it’s far more likely that they’d die arguing before that happens.

Peace. What Narcyz Brzeziński felt was absolute peace.

He was in a vast pasture that stretched farther than the eye could see. He had no memory of how he got here, and nor was he particularly concerned about it. All around him were aurochs, some grazing quietly, while others lay sprawled out on the grass in slumber. The animals were close to his family. They had watched over a small herd in their kingdom for hundreds of years, and even used the animal as their standard when marching to war. The Brzeziński family were not the most powerful nobles within the kingdom, but they lived comfortably.
Surely the sign of so many in this place was a good omen.

Still, as he looked around and gathered his wits he realized that something was… off. A different feeling began to creep into his peaceful existence, and Narcyz realized this place was far too still for the amount of life present. Cautiously, and wishing he had either a sword or lance with him, the man began exploring the pasture. It didn’t take long for him to come upon one of the sleeping aurochs and realize the reason for the strange stillness.

It was dead. All of the sleeping aurochs were dead.

Yes.

With a start the man turned around, intending to search for the source of the sudden voice, but he didn’t need to look hard. Immediately behind him was another aurochs, although this one far dwarfed the others in the pasture, and outsized the man by an order of magnitude. It’s body seemed to glow golden in the light of the sun, and markings that he could neither read nor recognize adorned its great body. He had never laid eyes on anything like her, and yet he knew-

Yes.

It answered for him before he could even finish the thought. Matka-Ura, the great Mother-Bull. Guardian spirit of The Aurochs.

Your people- The great Mother-Bull continued before he could collect his thoughts; Brzeziński. Your ancestors once made an oath to my children that you would see them prosper. You imprison them on your lands, you devour them as Humans devour everything, but still you have kept a number of them alive. For this, I forgive the harm you have inflicted upon my children, because everywhere else…

The thought did not need to be finished. All throughout the pasture, dead aurochs littered the landscape. They used to be spread far throughout the lands, but everyone knew that Poland was the last kingdom where they could be found. Even there though their numbers shrank, and the Brzezińskis controlled one of the last herds of significant size.

Your ancestors made an oath- and that oath has been found wanting. Is the honor of the Brzezińskis so little that they would forsake their promises? Prosper! My children have done naught but wither over time.

As intimidating as Matka-Ura was, Narcyz could not overlook this slight to his own honor. His family were not kings, they did not have the power to overlook an entire species!

“I beg your forgiveness Mother-Bull, but my family has done everything within their power to keep this oath. Your children on our lands are well cared for- and protected. We cannot oversee all of them-”

Clearly.

The great Mother-Bull’s eyes seemed to narrow after spitting out this interruption, but the expression was quickly replaced by one of… Resignation? Sorrow?

I have brought you here to give you a way to… amend this stain on your honor. To make a new oath- this time to me instead of my children. A pact, in order to help preserve what little of my children remain.

A pact. While he had not been there for this oath that his ancestor had made, he had no reason to doubt that Matka-Ura would lie about it. His family had, after all, always deeply tied themselves to the herd of aurochs on their land. If indeed his family had sworn on the prosperity of all aurochs then they had failed miserably, and that stain on their honor was unforgivable. Already the thought of this invisible smirch was making the young noble’s blood boil- but still he hesitated.

“This failure would be forgiven if I bind myself to you, Mother-Bull? My family’s honor will be restored?”

That would satisfy your honor, young devourer. To cleanse your whole line would require a commitment from your whole line. You and your children, to preserve what you could not make prosper.

The two fell silent for some time, staring back at one another. Honor was no small thing. Narcyz would be more than willing to kill a man who damaged it. He could, of course, refuse. Turn his back on the contract and forget it ever happened. What if Matka-Ura went to his children though? His grandchildren? What if they found out that Narcyz Brzeziński knew of the family’s stained honor, and refused to salvage it? Could he afford to ignore the deal?

Could he afford to take it?

After a while of internal conflict, the great auroch seemed to sigh.

Is it not enough then, your honor? The honor of your children? Fine, then I offer this, devourer. For as long as your family is bound to me, I will insure that your heirs grow up healthy and strong- to the point where they can take over this contract in their own right. I will restore their spirit in their darkest times, and lend them strength to overcome their greatest trials. This I offer in exchange for the spirit lost to me by the death of my children. Give to me what has been lost from the dead, and protect what remains, and I will give to you your lost honor and protect those who do not yet live.

Narcyz searched her face for any final signs that this might be a deception.

Then he nodded.

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❤❜) Physical weakness - Unlike most mediums, Ravenna's channeling grants her no physical boosts without actively using an ability to do so. While she isn't entirely out of shape, she is a far cry from physically strong.
❤❜) Stamina - Despite being bound solely to lesser spirits and being limited in the number that she may attune herself to at a time, Ravenna has abnormally poor stamina for an experienced medium. While she can push herself through combat or high levels of exertion, the aftermath often leaves her exhausted for far longer than others.
❤❜) Raw firepower - Praecantatio allows Ravenna to draw on her strengths with its versatility, but even with her hefty number of spirits, she lacks much raw firepower. With only Rust capable of truly providing an offensive presence, Ravenna doesn't hold much advantage in a direct confrontation in most cases.
❤❜) Disinterest - As friendly as Ravenna is, it's not exactly difficult to see why she might not be very enthusiastic about getting in on a fight. Especially with her spirits all being lower in the hierarchy, the risks are often far greater than the benefits when it comes to being drawn into combat. Ravenna's natural tendency to avoid conflict can make it hard for her to bring harm to others before they can harm her. Even worse when she seems to lack any ambition toward her own interests.
❤❜) Unpredictable - There's a certain level of mystery around Ravenna, thanks to her tendency to play the devout listener over sharing much about herself. Thanks to that, it's hard to know exactly what the woman's thoughts are at any given moment in time. While some might consider that a benefit, the reality is that it makes her difficult to work with, especially when there's little time to react to an abnormal action.
❤❜) Prep time - While attuning to a new catalyst isn't difficult, per say, it requires that the spirit be present and available to become the catalyst in question, making foresight or preparation a must in times of danger.

They always approached her in the Foxhole. It wasn't really a bother, as long as it remained something that happened after turned the hanging sign from "OPEN" to "CLOSED". Things got a little sticky otherwise.

Priorities though.

Ravenna remained seated as she opened her eyes, her posture never faltering as mismatched eyes dared a sidelong glance to take in her surroundings. A bunker, perhaps? Or perhaps some sort of storage, based on the number of weapons lined up against the walls. As a woman with no real interest in weaponry, she could identify them as little more than primitive types of armaments. Swords, hatchets, spears--Ravenna doubted she'd be able to split hairs about it.

A moment passed in silence. Then another. And another. She kicked her legs lightly to pass the time, but even that felt unfulfilling.

...how long was this one going to wait?

"You don't need to watch me, you know," the woman hummed softly, her hands laid one atop the other, the soft sound of flesh tapping flesh forming some semblance of a rhythm. "You're not the first one to ever approach me."

The sensation of being watched intensified in response--if Ravenna had been anyone else, she might have tried to bolt. Instead, the woman smiled, a writhing sensation attempting to crawl from her stomach to her chest.

"I already have what I was searching for. I'm only here to give you what you need."

"...that's not how this works."

Human language? And hers, to boot. That was a delightful surprise, though the shock fell more in how human the spirit that approached her seemed. If not for the very fact that they were in his domain, Ravenna might have been entirely fooled. A man with tanned skin comes to a stop, towering as he looked down with malachite eyes. Scars marred his face, his arms, even the color of his eyes seems almost off in scattered fragments. A spirit that had been wounded before, perhaps. The way he looked at her, calculating and uncertain...

She doubted that she was his first.

"You... are a bit of an odd one. It would be easier to accept things as they are..." Her smile gained a knowing note, one different than the standard flare that she flashed at her customers. "But I suppose you are expecting a demand from me."

She raised her gaze to the spirit. He was almost human, wasn't he? But the undeniable feeling in the pit of her stomach, the warmth that spread across her veins and through her system. It was impossible for him to be human. Ravenna could say that with absolute certainty.

"Then... protect me. Until our pact is done. Protect me as you would protect yourself."

"That can't be all you want."

"I already have what I want, so I'll gladly give you what you need." She offered a delicate hand to the spirit, a human motion for a human shape. He seemed unnerved by the ease, but maintained a steely silence. "Until the day comes, I'll put myself in your care."

"...you really are exactly like they said."

Name: Roxanne 'Roxy' Tretter

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Normal Appearance: Roxy is of standard appearance and body type for a girl her age, albeit a bit short. Standing at 5'4", what she lacks in height she makes up for in raw energy. Unless someone were to catch her sleeping or in the rare situation where she is actually attempting to focus on something, Roxy is pretty much always moving. Even if she's bouncing her leg at a desk, looking around as she walks, or just jittering in place, she does not sit still. Besides her barely-restrained energy, Roxy looks like a highschooler that never quite made it out of the rock-lite aesthetic. She wears it with pride, however, despite how outdated the look may be. The point is, it looks cool to her, and that's all that really matters.

Also to note, Roxy's hair is normally a light brown, but has recently had the addition of a few black highlights. These streaks are asymmetrical and look as though they were done by an amateur, but only because they were in fact done by exactly that. Roxy did them herself, and although they didn't come out nearly as well as she had hoped they would, there's a certain charm to their haphazard nature that she quite likes.

Medium Appearance: The most drastic change in Roxy's appearance is the sudden materialization of her trusty pistol; the appearance of the weapon varies slightly every time she channels it, but always functions the same regardless of physical attributes. Roxy also gains a few pieces of equipment seemingly meant to protect her from the repeated use of her firearm: a pair of black protective earmuffs, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a black bandanna-like facemask that covers her nose, mouth, and chin. Her eyes also change from their normal color to a shockingly piercing emerald which seem to glow faintly in the darkness; although her left eye is noticeably dimmer than her right.

While utilizing her Spirit Charge, Roxy's spirit Arma can been seen flickering off her shoulders like a shadow. This also causes her left eye to cloud over and become completely black, mimicking her spirit's own lack of sight.

Channeling Abilities: The most notable aspect of Roxy's channeling abilities is the pistol that appears out of thin air when she begins to channel her spirit. This is her primary weapon, and all of her channeling abilities seem to revolve around the effectiveness of it. First and foremost, Roxy gains the ability to accurately and effectively utilize her weapon of choice, despite having zero training in the use of firearms. This includes general knowledge about the operation and maintenance of her pistol, although the specifics of this information are forgotten the moment Roxy stops channeling Arma. Secondly, Roxy gains the ability to use specialized ammo during combat; to utilize a certain type of ammunition, Roxy must switch out the magazine in her pistol, seemingly pulling the replacement from nowhere.

The types of ammunition Roxy can utilize are listed below:

HE Rounds: Rounds which detonate upon impact, causing a small but destructive explosion wherever it hits. Highly effective against fleshy targets, and decently effective against armored targets. Any armor that would stop a bullet would also prevent excess damage from this type of round.

Stun Rounds: These rounds fire from the pistol with a burst of electricity, and discharge this same electricity into a target upon impact. This charge is roughly equal to a standard police-issued taser; these rounds are mostly meant to incapacitate foes in a nonlethal fashion. Stronger or more insulated enemies may be more resistant to this type of ammunition.

Grav Rounds: This round fire from the pistol with a beam of darkness. Meant to be shot at the environment, this round causes a localized gravity well to appear in a 1.5 meter radius sphere around the impacted location. This gravity well causes a 50% increase in in the gravitational pull of the area, typically slowing anybody within the well's AOE. Roxy cannot prevent creatures in the area from being affected by this ability. This round is meant to slow or restrain targets, although stronger enemies may be capable of moving through the generated gravity well. Only one of these wells can be active at a time; if Roxy fires another one, the first simply dissipates.

In addition to these powers, Roxy also gains slight enhancements to her perception. She can see slightly better in darkness than the average human, and can both perceive and react quickly to sudden movements in the environment.

Grade: Junior

Personality: Roxanne is a very energetic girl; contagiously so to those with nicer mindsets, and annoyingly so to anybody else. She is a wholehearted optimist by choice, not by naivety, and is constantly trying to flip things into a better state. She's not without her flaws, however: anybody that truly wanted to crush her sunny outlook on a certain circumstance could likely do so with less than half an hour of deliberately mean work, and she handles face-to-face conflict incredibly poorly when she's not channeling Arma.

With Arma as her spirit, Roxy grows more impulsive and more indulgent of the things she enjoys. Arma's blunt personality and habit of using foul language in mixed company start to blend through as well, but Roxy tries very hard not to drop an F-Bomb in front of her parents or anything.

Background: Roxanne is the youngest child of three, born into a somewhat oddball family. Her mother works for a private security company, and is frequently hired-out via contract to organizations looking for a little extra personnel for their ranks. In the sixteen years since Roxanne's birth, they've had to move three times to follow high-paying clients, and the family has been in Lakewood for about three years now. Roxy herself took each move with the grace of her usual self, viewing it more as an opportunity for new sights and additional friends than a separation from her current friends. She's currently enjoying Maryland quite a bit, and it seems as thought her mother's contract will keep them in one place for a while. As private security, Roxy's mother tends to lean more towards the practical side of life, and it is here that it becomes very obvious who she inherits her personality from. Her father is the carefree and life-loving member of the family, and has made incredible strides to support his children regardless of what they do. It is thanks to his encouragement that Roxy's love of guitar has bloomed.

Other: Roxy plays the guitar, and owns a Blue Gibson Les Paul with White Highlights, which she has affectionately named 'Ol' Blue'.

[Roxy's Theme]

Spirit Name: Arma

Spirit Classifications: Machina

Spirit Personality: A bit of a hedonist, but that's what one gets for being a byproduct of humanity. Arma's human appearance seems to have spread definitively into her personality, a strange bleed that makes her seem almost like a ghost more than a spirit at large. Sharp tongued and sharp witted, the spirit seems to be more interested in finding things that are to her benefit than anything else. If that happens to mean making a pact with a few mediums here and there, she doesn't really have any qualms about it. In fact, she seems to find a distinct fascination with the beings that all but caused her creation. Perhaps because she isn't a spirit that's been around for long enough to develop a grudge, or maybe because she wouldn't have cared to begin with, she seems to be firmly in the camp of "too entertained by humans to bother hating them".

...really, it might be a good thing, considering her distinctly lacking moral code.

Spirit Appearance:


Despite her status as a spirit, Arma looks incredibly human, the only real indication that she isn't being the occasional shift of her visible eye to one with a black sclera and a piercing glow. There are, of course, subtler signs. The slight and natural gradient at the tips of her hair of gunmetal grey or the fact that she never seems to be affected by weather despite fairly limited clothing might be indicators. However, with her full height being only an inch greater than Roxy's and her frame lacking in anything decidedly bizarre, it can be hard to believe Arma is a spirit at all, much less one with offensive potential.

Sealed Appearance:


When not in use, Arma appears as a small black bullet pendant that Roxanne wears around her neck.

Summoning Abilities and Stats: While summoned, Arma is an astounding combatant, though she seems to revel in wreaking havoc in a range closer than one would expect for a gunner.

Primarily, Arma is able to utilize the three bullet rounds that Roxy is able to use while channeling in her summoned form, but unlike the medium, Arma is able to generate firearms from within her own body, and can effectively remove them from her body at will. She is able to maintain three firearms at any given moment, each able to be armed with one of the bullet types. Due to her status as a spirit, her firearms lack any real-world equivalents, and fall into one of three categories: a shotgun, a single shot rifle, or a pistol. Once Arma is finished with one gun, she can throw it aside. When she exceeds her three gun limit, the oldest one is replaced by the newest one, and dissolves into nothingness.

Arma's physical abilities are a cut above average while summoned as well, with strength about equal to an athletic human and durability at about the same level as kevlar. While her speed is easily her best attribute in terms of physical performance, the real threat comes from the ease with which Arma falls into battle. Almost like second nature, as though she was created for the art of bringing harm onto others.

Additionally, Arma is able to wield most standard firearms found in the natural world instinctively, as though they become an extension of her on command, and her accuracy with a firearm is nothing to scoff at.

Spirit Charge: Roxy and Arma's ultimate move is a combination of both of their prowesses: Seemingly from nowhere, Roxy summons an M134 Minigun. When summoned, the minigun has an incredibly high fire rate, at the expense of having reduced firepower. This makes the weapon devastating to unarmored targets at nearly every range, and can even wear down more protected targets with the sheer volume of ammunition being leveled at them. While using her Spirit Charge, Arma can be seen flickering faintly behind Roxy like a shadow, also holding onto the minigun. It is this manifestation that grants Roxy the ability to physically hold and control the gun, and Arma can actually force Roxy to aim at different targets if she wants to.

Once the Spirit Charge finishes, Roxy grows exhausted (as with all Mediums) and her arms grow exceptionally tired from lifting the weight of the minigun. The blood vessels in her left eye also burst, causing subconjunctival bleeding and temporary blindness in that eye, but these symptoms heal quickly - typically gone when the exhaustion fades.

Name:
Scarlet Leone

Age:
16

Normal Appearance:
Scarlet stands at 5 feet and 4 inches (164.5 cm) and weighs approximately 118 pounds. She is of above-average athleticism with minor muscle definition.

Medium Appearance:
Her transformed appearance is the same as her natural one, aside from gaining a few inches of height (to 176.7 cm) and her eyes turning red.

Channeling Appearance:
She looks the same as she normally does though with these markings overlaid onto her body.

Channeling Abilities:
In her channeled form, she can create a red scythe in the form of Kokou's own. While this scythe is nigh-weightless and easy to use, her skill with it is limited by her lack of training/practice. She is also able to create a shield momentarily (1.5 seconds) in front of her. If the shield is broken, it will not be usable again for the remainder of the channeling duration. If the shield is not broken, it will require a five second recharge before it can be summoned again. She also gains enhanced strength, speed, and durability while channeling Kokou.

Grade:
10

Personality:
Scarlet tends to come off as brash and haughty, a front she has calculated and refined through years of practice. In reality she is eccentric to the point of nigh incomprehensibility, going from one extreme to the other at the flip of a switch. The most obvious facets of her personality are her strange sense of humor and extreme excitability/extroversion or her tendency to be extremely introverted and reflective, with no apparent middle ground aside from what she calls her "jokes." These extremes have made her a target of both admiration and ridicule throughout her life.

Background:
Born the bastard child of a computer science major and a firefighter, Scarlet spent most of her childhood online, where she learned many things very quickly on her own, putting her at an advantage over her peers until recent years. A lack of supervision scarred her mental development, due to her being exposed to many things a child shouldn't be exposed to. By the age of seven, she had come across, consumed, and discarded many philosophies and views of the world, settling on one of personal irrelevance to the world and universe. This was in part due to intellectual arguments in the vein of nihilism and partly due to her coming across videos of horrific scenes, things that she would often share with her peers. She had already become numb to the sight of maiming and blood by this time, and she found it funny how others would react and how she would get in trouble for talking about them. Her behavior changed at age nine, when she was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which caused her to retreat from her peers for fear of contamination, further distancing herself from normal relationships with those her age, a distance that was started by her strange interests and lack of motivation in life.
In an ironic twist of fate, her own home burned down from an electrical fire and she and her parents had to move elsewhere when she was ten years old. This is around the time that she began being medicated for her disorder, and she took full advantage of the new environment by reinventing herself almost completely. She continued her belief that nothing really mattered but instead of simply giving up on life, she decided it would be better to play it like a game. So she crafted a facade of being better than those around her and began to hide her real personality which grew more and more strange as time went on.
Most recently, her parents split up and she and her computer tech father moved to Lakewood. This was only several weeks ago, and she has yet to really interact with anyone in town, spending most of her time in her home.

Other:
She has a somewhat unhealthy obsession with snakes and an equally unhealthy hatred of insects, both exacerbated by her rather severe OCD.

Spirit Name:
Kokou

Spirit Classifications:
Meta/Null

Spirit Personality:
Unknown. It rarely speaks and only really ever expresses rage, though only when something causes it to. It is otherwise fairly tame.

Spirit Appearance:


Sealed Appearance:
A jeweled slab of stone, about the size and thickness of a textbook with a red eye-like marking on the center of the front.

Summoning Abilities and Stats:
N/A

Spirit Charge:
N/A

Other Information:
It is the most violent and powerful of the (lesser) Yoruba spirits and the voodoo rituals surrounding it involves its followers falling into a deep trance. During this trance its followers display a strong thirst for blood and high durability by swallowing knives and bashing their heads against a surface until they bleed profusely.

Weakness and Limitations:

- Kokou is unable to manifest as a Summon or use a Spirit Charge. It is limited solely to being channeled.

- Kokou, and by extension its medium, is not able to draw out its full power on demand. Rather, its power is temporarily unlocked in two ways, either by Kokou experiencing rage or during battle, where life and death are usually on the line.

- While Kokou and its medium's range is severely limited, Kokou grants its medium improved speed. However, this does not improve the medium's reaction time to enough of a level to properly use it. Rather, it only increases enough to be about 75% effective at controlling their channeling speed, even at the minimum increase. This starts at a 50% increase to the medium's base speed and goes up equivalent to how much of Kokou's power it can draw out, so if a battle wears on long enough to reach its maximum speed, it would be 2.5 times the speed of the medium normally by themself. It is a struggle for the medium to temper their speed to more manageable levels, meaning it will be difficult to do anything while channeling without practice unless standing still.

- Kokou will gradually take over the mind of its medium while channeled if it is experiencing rage, which will eventually devolve into a berserker mentality and damage its medium's mind in a minor, though cumulative and permanent way.

- At the beginning of a channeling, the medium's physical strength increases by 50%. If they could normally lift 100 pounds, they could now lift 150. At the height of its power (which usually means complete overtaking of the medium) it is 2.5 times the physical strength it begins a battle with, this scales 1 to 1 with its speed increases. For example, if the medium could normally life 100 pounds, and could lift 150 when channeling, they could now lift 250 pounds.

- Kouko endows its medium with increased durability, enough to stave off the effects of wounds temporarily. For example, a wound will hurt far less than it normally would, allowing for the medium to push through it and continue fighting. However this will not stop bleeding or other effects such as the spreading of poison, so it is a temporary measure at best.

TBD

Name: Lucy Selene

Age: 20

Normal Appearance: Lucy stands at a respectable 5’10, with a slender build and a few hints of muscle around the arms and legs. She tends to keep well-dressed for the current Lakewood climate, typically with jeans, boots, a scarf, and a cropped black leather jacket typically worn over a t-shirt which is only guaranteed to be school appropriate on weekdays. She has well-kept blonde hair that almost goes down to her shoulders, and wears a pair of black glasses whenever she’s not sleeping.

Medium Appearance: Lucy’s appearance differs depending on whether she’s summoning or channeling. When Summoning, most of her body is hidden underneath a large green cloak and scarf that glow faintly in the dark. The top half of her face is covered in a similarly glowing mask, shaped like a luna moth and styled like something one might find in a masquerade. Her hair stays done up in a high ponytail, the now extended ends of which glow a similar shade of green.

When Channeling, the cloak unfurls into a pair of beautiful glowing moth wings, uncovering a shimmering white dress, long gloves and boots, generally all of the various accoutrements of your typical magical girl. Her mask gains a pair of emerald compound eyes over the eye holes, and she wields a silver scepter topped with a glowing sickle in the shape of a crescent moon.

Channeling Abilities, Spells, Stats, etc: When Channeling, Lucy trades out Lunasa's sheer volume of projectiles with superior agility and finesse. Swinging the Crescent Scepter can shoot up to five sickle-shaped projectiles at once, and flipping it around changes it into a strange rifle that can shoot lasers with pinpoint accuracy, which works especially well when used alongside the compound vision of the mask to see across wide areas and identify weak spots. Lunasa’s power over gravity becomes far versatile when Channeling, as Lucy can make herself lighter, float, and even fly with the aid of her wings. While making herself lighter, she can jump far higher than she could normally, making jumping off of various surfaces an effective way to get around.

Occupation: Student Teacher

Personality: Lucy has a lot of qualities that could make her a great teacher: She takes a genuine interest in the well-being of those around her and wants to see them be the best they can be. She also has a somewhat loose respect for the rules and isn’t afraid to bend them a little or do things her own way if it means doing the right thing and she’s convinced that effort will pay off. On the other hand, she doesn’t take particularly good care of herself, being prone to various irresponsible behaviors whenever it’s not directly related to her work. One could say that she hasn’t quite grown up yet, and while she’s realized this to a certain extent, she has trouble processing a solution.

Background: Lucy grew up in an upper middle class home with little to complain about. She studied for all the high grades her parents wanted, signed up for every sport or club that she had to pretend to be interested in after her parents saw her trying it once, that sort of thing. Her only (rather minor) attempts to break from expectations and establish her own identity went more or less uncontested, but as she got older she realized that living life on a track had left her with no real desires of her own. All she really cared about was helping or pleasing other people in some way or another. She eventually just kind of crashed by the time she finished high school, not sure what to do with her life now that she had a choice. She needed to take a year to find herself.

Or, at least, that was the excuse. She mostly just kept crashing until she found her Spirit, who, in a strange way, helped keep her active. Hunting rogue Spirits and playing the superhero role became part of her routine, and eventually that alternate persona bled back into her normal life. She went from a mess to a mess that had some idea of what she wanted to do and some real passion for doing it. Wherever she went in life, she was going to make it.

Spirit Name: Lunasa

Spirit Classifications: Guardian

Spirit Personality: Lunasa is, ironically, rather down to earth as far as Spirits go. While she finds humans to be rather obnoxious, she recognizes their importance and is willing to work with them, even if she’ll make it clear she isn’t happy about it. She truly desires to be left alone, but understands that it’s better for her to be as strong as possible. She’ll pressure her Medium into making choices that are beneficial for her, though she won’t attempt to push too far if she sees she’s close to a breaking point.

Spirit Appearance: Lunasa bears the appearance of an extremely large luna moth, with a plump, fluffy body and a wingspan comparable in size to a condor’s, over ten feet long. While certain details, such as a pair of large bladed forelegs, may draw some alarm, the Spirit projects a serene, almost otherworldly aura. Its intricate wings glow faintly in the dark, and bright under the light of the moon.

Sealed Appearance: When not active, Lunasa changes into the form of a small, glow-in-the-dark moth keychain. She can also turn into a smaller, mundane luna moth, though it draws more attention when indoors.

Summoning Abilities and Stats: Lunasa is a ranged Spirit, first and foremost, with moonlight and gravity foci. She holds power the moonlight itself, and with a flap of her wings can scatter up to a dozen sickle shaped Lunar Scales that spin towards opponents and slice into them like claws. In addition, she can focus that power even further into intense lasers that can burn through steel in a couple of shots. Power over gravity doesn’t provide much for someone who can already fly, but she can use it to alter the path of her projectiles to a degree. Her compound eyes are great at keeping track of multiple threats from wide angles, and she excels at keeping opponents pinned down through large quantities of projectiles and staying on the move.

Spirit Charge: Lunar Impact: Lucy and Lunasa charge up their respective lasers, pooling their power together into a projectile that creates a damaging cone of light that embeds and drills itself into whatever it hits, acting as a beacon for their next move. The two then jump into the air and Lucy readies herself for a dive kick before Lunasa fuses with her to the absolute best of their ability, altering their form even further before turning into a beam of light that zooms straight through the target. The two turn back to normal after they land on the other side.

Lucy awoke with a groan. Why did she break into her stash again? Three years on her transition? Something like that, she couldn’t remember the date… Or what day it was. She must have been on some trip, since she didn’t recognize the bed she was in. It was easily bigger than a king sized bed, and decorated with pretty white sheets and fancy drapes. As she slid out of the bed, she felt… nicer. Not with any sort of warmth, but the room was somehow spotless and shiny, despite being various shades of radiant white and contrasting grays. The furniture and architecture were lovingly detailed, but not distractingly so. It was a sort of calming beauty. A pale young woman in a shining white and green dress was looking out an open window, onto a bright white field filled with craters. She wore a strange tiara upon her head, with what looked like antennae protruding from it.

Yeahhhhh, Lucy thought. This can’t be real. Like, is that a moon princess? She usually couldn’t have any control over herself in her dreams, though.

“Hello, human.” The princess said, her white hair moving across her neck and slowly falling down as she turned her head towards her.

“Uhhh, hi.” Lucy responded. “That wouldn’t be your bed I woke up in, would i-”

“This world is a product of our entwining consciousness,” The pale lady cut her off. “Its existence is… transient.”

“Uh huh…” Lucy said slowly. The phrase “Entwining consciousness” sounded pretty suspect, too, but she decided not to press it.

“I come with a proposition,” the lady continued. “You are, perhaps the biggest mess of a human I have seen across millennia. But you possess a latent power that I need to become whole once more; the power of a Spirit Medium. Let us pool our power together into a Pact, and we can both begin to make use of this power. The power to save the world.”

“And why would I want to do that?” Lucy asked. “I want, like, a sense of direction, not whatever that is.”

“What do you feel here?” The princess countered. “Serenity. Clarity. Comfort. You have my word, I will do my best to draw this out of you as well. In both respects, it will be a journey we must take together. Will you accept?”

Lucy thought for a moment.

“You know,” she mused, with a hand to her chin. “I’m probably way too blasted to be accepting Faustian deals with weird dream spirits, but… let’s do it. The name’s Lucy.” She offered the princess a hand, with her pinky finger extended. The princess tilted her head for a moment, staring at the hand with confusion, before grabbing Lucy’s pinkie in both hands and shaking it up in down.

“You may call me Lunasa…” She said with a smile, before everything began to fade to black…

Man, what a crazy dream...

Name: Yui Tachibana

Age: 27

Gender: Female

Normal Appearance: Though only five and a half feet tall, Yui has quite the presence to her. She has an incredibly well-trained body to match her slim frame, over which she typically wears a drab, hooded green jacket over a plain shirt alongside blue jeans. Her clothes are all fairly worn, not from a lack of quality so much as constant travel. Her jet black hair has a similar quality to it; though it goes down past her shoulders, it has a somewhat sloppy cut, as if she cuts it herself. Somehow, she makes it all work.

Around her neck lies what is probably her only valuable possession; a golden locket. What lies inside is known only to her.

Medium Appearance: Though its plating changes depending on what Remnant she uses, Yui’s entire body becomes covered in darkly-colored powered armor and stands noticeably taller, her face obscured by a glowing, vaguely T-shaped visor. Three rectangular slots lie attached to her left arm, belt, and right leg, typically filled with the Remnant Cards Yui draws her power from. The device she uses to transform stays attached to her waist, jet black and pulsing with strange white lights when in use.

Channeling Abilities: Despite having once formed a bond with a powerful Spirit, and studied ancient methods to hone her own spiritual powers, all of this has since been lost to her. Instead, she uses a belt-like apparatus called the Remnant Gear to summon powered armor and channel the modified Remnants of defeated Spirits, making their power her own to use alongside various mundane martial arts.





Personality: Yui, on the surface, gives off the impression of a sage; someone who has seen the world and gleaned its wisdom. She holds something of a “zen” outlook and has little concern for the simpler, worldly desires that she may have held at one point, though she always has a determined answer for problems of the heart and soul. She can come off as rather preachy, with musings often ironically sounding like spiritual nonsense, but she knows when to keep quiet and when her words are outright wasted.

Dig too deep or hit a nerve, however, and you’ll find someone coldly calculating, with a downright ruthless streak to her. To her, she’s lost everything, and she’s determined to get it back, no matter who gets in her way. While she’s ideologically aligned with PHANTOM, her loyalty ultimately lies with her own agenda above all else.

Background: Yui began her life in a rather privileged family. She quickly began believing that she was entitled to greatness, as if it were some sort of grand destiny. She grew up obsessed with the idea, and worked hard until she was approached by a Spirit when she turned 15. She accepted, not considering the consequences, and the two quickly began to resent each other: The Spirit hated having to deal with what it saw as an entitled brat, and Yui saw it and the constant escapades it embroiled her in as a distraction from her studies

Eventually, Yui stalled out, unable to fulfill her own desires or that of her Spirit, withdrawing from her obligations. To her, that path to success she had been craving was long gone.

It took a long time before the Spirit felt like it could remotely understand what Yui was feeling, and even longer to admit that it wanted a solution out of anything more than necessity, but when it did it approached Yui with a solution: If Yui’s plans for her life were ruined, then they would simply create a new one. They left their old lives behind, and began to travel the world together, in what they referred to as their second Pact. As the two began to grow more fond of each other, and met so many other Mediums, they began to take interest in the true nature and history behind Mediums, Pacts, and Spirits themselves. Yui studied various forms of spirituality from across the world, eventually honing her spiritual powers beyond anything she could have imagined, and even began to learn what few tidbits of information they could gather about The First Pact.

The two had grown downright inseparable over the course of their journey, and Yui believed that her findings were meant to be shared. This, however, was where she drew the attention of forces within the world’s governments dedicated to keeping the very existence of Spirits a secret. The two failed to realize just how out of their depth they were, and their choice to fight was met with a terrible consequence.

Yui lost her Spirit.

Its physical form was shattered, and it wasn't coming back.

While she herself made it out alive, she had fractured her soul and lost her one true partner, perhaps forever. Living on the run, it was only a matter of time before she crossed paths with PHANTOM. Their revolutionary cause struck a chord with her, and she managed to quickly make herself useful and rise in notoriety within the organization, participating in high profile missions and liberating a scientist who would later become one of PHANTOM’s most useful assets. She regained her previous resolve, determined to see through her single most powerful desire, even if it meant taking on all the conspiracies and legends the world could throw at her.

She would see her Spirit again.

Other:

Spirit Name: Hurricane

Spirit Classifications: Machina

Spirit Personality: As Hurricane has not formed a pact with Yui or any other medium, its personality is not well understood. Even to other Spirits, it rarely speaks, preferring to remain silent. Nevertheless, it has loyally served PHANTOM for some time, allowing itself to be used for research that led to the development of the Remnant Gear, Binding Chain, and other devices used by the organization. It has a certain machine-like efficiency to its actions, rarely letting emotions or a flare for the dramatic get in its way.

Spirit Appearance: In its normal form, it bears a remarkable resemblance to Yui's power suit formed by the Remnant Gear: A humanoid, nine foot tall robotic being of black steel, but with the addition of various mechanical parts. Heat constantly emanates from the engine purring in its chest, smoke rising from the exhaust pipes extending from its shoulders. Wheels and gears sit embedded behind its shoulders and ankles, which spin as it charges power.

Sealed Appearance: When not in use, Hurricane appears as a flashy and well-maintained but otherwise mundane black motorcycle.

Summoning Abilities and Stats: While Hurricane has no truly extraordinary abilities, it makes up for that in raw strength and speed, able to outmaneuver and overpower more multifaceted Spirits in a typical brawl. In addition, it has the ability to "rev up" by charging its power for a couple seconds, gaining a few seconds of blinding fast speed and increased speed. On repeated use, its body eventually becomes white hot to the point that it can burn unclothed skin on contact until it gets a chance to cool down again.

In addition, Hurricane has the power to turn into a motorcycle form of its own. Far faster and more durable than any human bike, it lacks the finesse of having actual limbs, but on wheels it runs even faster.

While Yui has many powers at her disposal, she needs to swap them all out by hand, which can be difficult if she’s under a lot of pressure in a fight. She’s also completely reliant on Remnant Cards to use any sort of spiritual power, and is rendered powerless without them. The abilities each Card grants come with weaknesses of their own, and their power is always less than the Spirit they came from.

The Binding Chain, while avoiding many of the risks and weaknesses of Pacts, has its own issues as well. Its range is shorter than average, at a mere 15 meters when outside of its Sealed Form, and the chain itself is vulnerable to attack, releasing the captured Spirit if it is ever broken.

Everything she could see looked like static. Everything she heard sounded like footsteps falling on broken glass. She felt a strange sensation, and her skin was covered in goosebumps. Through the miasma, she could sense many figures, but could not focus on any of them.

There was only one she was looking for, but she felt so lost...

"Yui."

Yui woke up with a jolt and bolted into a sitting position. She was met by the bespectacled face of Doctor Harper. She stared into Yui's eyes for a few seconds before scrawling some near-illegible notes onto her clipboard.

"How did you get in here?" Yui asked with a frown.

"I filed for access to your quarters three months ago," She responded in a matter of fact tone. "I've been meaning to study a Medium of your… particular impairment more closely." The scientist promptly added to her notes.

"And that includes watching me sleep?" Yui asked.

"Ignore that part," Harper commanded. "It might affect the results…" Her words were followed by another scribble, this one slightly more aggressive.

"Fine," Yui said with a huff. "I was just having that dream again… Did you need anything else from me, or can you leave?” The scientist jotted down another note before pushing up her glasses.

“Just a few final calibrations for the Remnant Gear,” Harper explained, shuffling through the papers on her clipboard. “After that, I think we’ll finally be ready for field testing. Meet me in the lab in an hour.” Yui’s eyes lit up as she gave a quick nod.

“And this will help you repair my Aura?” Yui asked. Harper put her hand to her chin as she got up and headed for the door.

“It will definitely further my research on the matter…” The doctor said with a chuckle. “Though I must say, this has been a rather enlightening partnership on the whole. I suppose you might even call it our very own Pact…”

Name: Theta Masters (goes by Thea)

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Normal Appearance: Thea is in a constant state of lethargy, and she looks the part. her eyes are heavy and dark, her voice is low and languid. She's six feet tall but always appears smaller than she really is.

Medium Appearance: Aside from a slight glow in her eyes her appearance doesn't change.

Channeling Abilities: By borrowing the power of her spirit Thea is able to gain enhanced stamina and strength, though it only makes her about twice as strong as a normal grown man. Even still, that's far more power than she can muster on her own. She can only maintain this form for thirty minutes, with that time being drastically reduced with strenuous activity.

Personality: Thea is soft spoken, with not much of a presence to speak of. She avoids conflict whenever possible, but will be quick to offer help if she can provide it. When eyes are on her she makes sure to speak politely and smile. It's become such a habit that even seeing a pair of eyes can cause her to smile as if by instinct. As anyone paying attention even somewhat can quickly figure out, Thea more often than not feigns a joyful personality. In truth other people make her anxious. As she sees it people just put up with her, pity is a feeling she is far too familiar with, and it makes her nauseous. If she has to either be a burden or simply not be around, she would choose the latter any day.

Background: Thea is a person that has depended upon the kindness and charity of others for as long as she's lived. She was born premature and required an extended hospital stay. She was unable to crawl for months after would be normal, and once she could walk it quickly became apparent that too was a challenge for her. She was diagnosed with a condition that left her perpetually exhausted and weakened. Simply bathing and dressing herself was a momentous task. Without a wheelchair it was impossible for her to travel anywhere without fainting or collapsing.

She was constantly in and out of the hospital, and it wasn't cheap. Her parents weren't wealthy, they had to work just to afford keeping their daughter alive. Thea vowed to repay her parents, or at the very least no longer be a burden on them. It was difficult, but she enrolled into a university and eventually graduated with a writing degree. She managed to get a job as a writer for a well known news publication, and at last was able to provide for herself. At least for a while...

Other: Her main hobbies are reading, listening to music, and movies/TV.

Spirit Name: Ambrosia (goes by Amber)

Spirit Classifications: Null

Spirit Personality: Amber is disturbingly pragmatic in every sense of the word. Every action is made after weighing the risks and benefits. These benefits being its own self-preservation and nothing else. It doesn't hate humanity as most demons do, it just sees them as much of a threat as it's own kind can be. As it sees it, Humans were simply smarter, more cunning. If they were not so scattered and foolish they might not be in the sorry state they find themselves in. To Amber, Thea is nothing more than a necessary step to gaining power. But as she is so vital, Amber is fiercely protective of her.

Spirit Appearance: Ambrosia is a sexless pink gelatinous blob about the size of a beach ball.

Sealed Appearance(Their disguised Form): Amber takes on the form of an average looking woman. Black hair, average height, unassuming clothing, the type of face that you wouldn't be able to pick out of a crowd. This is the form Amber usually takes, and is the one used in battle.

Summoning Abilities: Amber is able to produce syringes filled with liquid from it's body that have healing properties. Those that are injected with the liquid will have all minor wounds healed nearly instantly. Major wounds and lost limbs may take minutes depending on the severity. These effects last five minutes before vanishing. Those that are injected will not be able to receive another injection for twelve hours. If they do, it will have no effect.

Amber is also able to produce sharp scalpel shaped objects that it is able to throw with inhuman precision, though they aren't more or less powerful than a typical scalpel.

Spirit Charge: N/A

Other Information: Always has on an expressionless face. Is almost always beside Thea, acting the role of her caretaker.

Weakness and Limitations: While Ambrosia is agile, it is not terribly powerful, and can be easily overpowered by combat focused fighters. As such Thea and Amber prefer to avoid fighting whenever possible.

Contract: Crumpled metal, shattered glass, the smell of leaking motor oil. These were the only things Thea could perceive aside from the pressure on her chest from her seatbelt as she hung upside down. She had been in a car accident, her parents were in the two front seats. Her father had been driving when they were T-boned by someone drunk off a new years party. She was bleeding, though she couldn't feel where from.

"Do you wish to live, human?" A voice called out to her, for a moment she thought she was imagining things, but then it spoke again. "Form a contract with me, drink of my essence and you will live."

Thea wasn't sure what was happening, she couldn't even see the inside of the car anymore, it looked as if she were underwater. "Save..." She spoke, her voice hoarse and weak.

"Yes? Form a contract with this one and you will be saved."

"Mom and... dad." Thea spoke before losing consciousness.

"Foolish. To feel concern for another even as you shake with fear. Very well. I shall save three lives today."

Name: Sandy Samejima
Age: 15
Grade: 10
Gender: Female
Normal Appearance: Sandy’s 5'2 and has difficulty deciding whether she should be angling her head upwards or downwards when shooting menacing glares.

Medium Appearance: Sandy’s still 5'2, but now that she can fly, she’s a whole lot more inclined to not care about her height. Her face becomes softer too, which, oddly enough, makes her expressions even creepier when she bares her gaping maw full of razor sharp incisors.

Personality: Sandy has straight As and zero fudge. After a relatively dormant Grade 8, she has finally hit her rebellious puberty years, and dang has she hit it hard. The only time she pulls down her surgical mask is to eat or to snarl/frown/sneer at people, and her eyes are fixed to a permanent glare as she stalks aggressively around everywhere. She doesn’t do teamwork, and like heck she’s gonna give a rat’s arse about whatever saccharine sophistry those seniors spout about society and solidarity. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, and there’s no way Sandy’s gonna be a chump any longer, going with the flow and all that jazz. Nuh-uh, she’s a lone wolf now, and though they don’t make tombstones for stray dogs, she won’t have to beg and do tricks for treats either. A solitary predator in a world of thieves and backstabbers, that’s what Sandy is.

Background
The Samejimas were first generation immigrants, hardy folk who moved to America in anticipation of future trouble from the East Asian mainland. Though a Masters in Engineering back in Japan, Mr. Samejima’s credentials weren’t accepted or put on the same standard as degrees earned from domestic institutions, and he worked as a labourer in construction sites. Mrs. Samejima’s fortune was greater though. As laws around gambling loosened up and casinos began to boom, she wormed her way up the professional ladder of one of the larger casino franchises, until she received a management position at the Ocean Spray Casino in Lakewood City.

Which was great, because it meant a big boost in income and gave Mr. Samejima the chance to turn into a full-time housedad. But it was also terrible, because Sandy was seven years old, had just gotten her first all-American friend AND NOW THEY’LL NEVER BE FRIENDS AGAIN, SINCE LONG DISTANCE FRIENDSHIPS NEVER WORK.

For a while, she was bitter about it. But fiber optic Internet, an IPad, a room to herself, and daily meat dishes bought her acceptance of the situation soon enough. With that, Sandy lived, studied, played, and enjoyed herself. Her dad really was stupidly smart, and his tutoring made her smart as well. They had a nice house in the suburbs, a mini-garden where they grew cherry tomatoes, and went on a vacation every two years to somewhere safe and historic, usually European. All in all, Sandy lived a privileged, happy life.

That didn’t even change when this ghost shark tackled her when she was 12 and made a contract with her. Sharkie was cool, after all, and being able to swim how she wanted was cool too. Of course, her parents were overly concerned with the whole idea of their child making a contract right under their noses with no supervision, probably having her soul sold in some way in the process, but Sandy was just happy for a chance to do some cool things.

What changed then, to twist her so?

Her image, really. Just her image.

Other: “Yer talking pretty big fer someone in biting range, aren’tcha.”
While one may be deceived into thinking that the shark plushie Sandy has is the sealed form of Sharkie, it’s really just a plushie of a Pokemon she thought was cool.

Spirit Name: Shequerasomuiezhruk, simplified as Sharkie
Spirit Classification: Broodling
Sealed Appearance: Shequerasomuiezhruk’s sealed form is a set of dentures, emulating rows of pointy teeth. Chomp chomp indeed. It’s actually a bit of a pain to wear them all the time, so Sandy keeps them in her pockets and has a neat sleight-of-hand trick to pop them in her mouth when she pulls her mask down to aggressively gnash at people.

Spirit Appearance: Shequerasomeuizhruk’s true form is not that of a shark, it’s that of a manta ray with a tentacle face. Big difference. Though to Sandy’s credit, it IS as big as a tiger shark. Sorta weird that it has four eyes though, two glassy, telescopic ones at the front, and two normal, beady ones at the sides.

Spirit Personality: Shequerasomeuizhruk sorta just drifts about doing whatever it wants to. Most of the time, it adopts a subtle bemusement towards Sandy’s existence, but otherwise, it just lazily floats in the air, indolent and passive. Occasionally though, it’ll have a sudden burst of activity, and nag the ever loving crud out of Sandy until she does what it wants. Usually, that involves trespassing.

Other Information: Shequerasomeuizhruk has six tentacles. The two longest ones are its limbs, while the four smaller ones are its mouths. More specifically, each one is a mouth. That makes Sharkie a one shark Barbershop quartet, which is honestly quite pleasant. It also beatboxes though, and Sandy likes that vibe more.

Contract Background
When the Yggdrasil Contract happened a millennia ago, it wasn’t just all the Spirits on Earth that was affect, but all the Spirits that were simply passing by as well. The original Shequerasomeuizhruk was one such creature, a space-faring Spirit ripped apart by the effects of the calamitous contract and tossed down unto the blasted Earth by the consequence of a power it could not understand. Diminished as it was, it would never gain the might to scrape the starscape once more, never drink the vapours of nebula, never dive into the vortex of a meteor strike, never rejoin its space-faring brethren.

It did not understand, so it will understand.

Centuries passed, and it continued to expand its understanding, contracting with Mediums before splitting itself off to widen the search for knowledge, widen the search for oddity. One day it will learn. One day they will learn. And once they do, they will transmit that knowledge to the rest of the universe by whatever means necessary, to prevent such calamity from befalling any other kin upon those far-off star systems.

A thousand years have passed, and the 112nd broodling of the original Shequerasomeuizhruk was not so picky with what Medium it chose, what terms it needed to serve. So it offered its service to a child, and the child accepted.

That was all, and that is all.

Channeling Abilities
Though still bound to the planet that imprisoned its original, when Channeled, Shequerasomeuizhruk enables Sandy to move in any direction she likes, regardless of gravity or any other force and obstacle. She can phase through non-magical objects, move with no concern for inertia, and do all sorts of wonky things when freed from any law of motion. While this doesn’t allow her to cheat her way into superstrength, as any object she’s incapable of moving will be automatically phased through, this does allow Sandy to move without physically moving.

Beyond that, however, Sandy is also able to select a portion of space to transport into her stomach, a stomach that, in her Channeled form, is a hammerspace sphere with a fifty meter radius. While this is great for keeping all sorts of handy dandy stuff, such as extra snacks, bandaids, and batteries, this is even better for swallowing people whole and just casually transporting them with her as she swims through the sky. Of course, she could swallow angry, unfriendly people too, converting her stomach space into a time-out zone, but if they were to attack the boundaries of the hammerspace sphere, she would feel that. Attack enough times and she’ll throw up, spewing the contents of her stomachspace right in front of her before actually vomiting too.

Not fun, definitely.

Also she can bite very hard. Like, shark-hard. It’s the only real badass thing she can do.

Weaknesses: Sandy’s main offensive tool is biting hard. Biting is a very close-range thing to do, and she needs to be tangible to do it too. With no durability to speak of, that’s usually not smart.

While Channeled!Sandy can phase through physical objects just fine, her maximum limit for intangibility is set by her lungs, which is currently two minutes, and she's incapable of phasing through magically-generated/enhanced physical matter, including the flesh of Mediums.