Character you have created: Dr. David Anderson Jones

Alias: Terra Firma

Speech Color: Hero Time: ed1c24 Human: Normal/White

Character Alignment: Hero

Identity: Secret

Character Personality: David is a patient, focused person, qualities driven into him by his long years studying archaeology, along with raising his daughter. At most times David tries fashion himself as a playful, talkative person who loves to prank others. Although he tries his best to seem ever joyful on the outside, he worries intensely about those closest to him. He drives his friends up the walls sometimes with his antics, but he likes to think they love him anyways, and their continued presence confirms it.

Uniform/costume:




Origin Info/Details:


Season 2 summary:

• Gained powers
• Encountered strange creatures, hints of the supernatural, but has not yet reached the true depths
• Met and befriended other characters in varying states of existence, do they remember him? I don't know, but he remembers
• Fought against the Hounds of Humanity
• His power has grown to stage 2 and is stronger for it
• Teamed up with Icon and joined the Guardians

Hero Type (Select one): Elemental (?)

Power Level (Select one below): World Level (With Cosmic Level potential)

Powers (Be Specific):
PyroKinesis: David can generate his own super heated plasma, along with using raw geothermal energy from the Earth and nearby heat from the sun to help add to his own attacks. With this energy he can simply shoot it, or he can shape, and expel it in a variety of ways. He can even control flames outside his body, to draw in to use with his own flames, or to enhance an attack.

Lightning Kinesis: David can create or choose to manipulate Earth's own EM field by using his own ability over gravity to focus and bend electromagnetic waves into extremely high voltage electromagnetic energy for his use. David's control over lighting means he can form and control this energy in any fashion of his choosing, much like his Pyrokinesis.

Pseudo-Cryokinesis: If allowed enough time to absorb enough nearby heat David can chill the nearby area to freezing temperatures, enough to form ice even. But to do this effectively at his current skill level he must maintain physical contact with his target.

Gravitic Emulation: Having been granted a portion of Earth's power David also has some control over gravity. Although he is unable to control the level of gravity others feel he can alter the gravity in his close vicinity. Meaning he can add mass to incoming projectiles or other's fists at close range, allowing him to slow these attacks down and lessen their damage. Along with physical attacks, David's gravity powers can also affect light and energy attacks much like how gravity affects the bending of light. He can also use this to make himself heavier or lighter.

Energy Manipulation: By channeling his will he can control multiple types of energy, such as solar, or even the energy he receives from the Earth. He can use this to form constructs, simple blasts, or redirect this energy however he chooses.

Geokinesis: As Terra Firma, David can control the earth under him in any manner he wants. Meaning he can also control the size and form of the rocks he moves around. Aside from stone, and dirt David can also summon a specific mineral or crystal if need be.

Invisibility: Using his control over light with his gravity emulation he can bend the light around him, so that the light particles never touch him, giving him invisibility.

Supreme Durability: In his transformed mode David possesses high resistance to physical, magical, and energy attacks.

Agent of the Earth: This new powered form is the personification of Earth's desire to defend itself. This form merges with David's normal body, empowering him with the Earth's essense. This new body can feel soft like a persons body, to a point, but it is not flesh, nor does it have a need to breath. It's appearance is entirely due to David's unconscious mind, from the subtle 'breathing' motions, to the fiery energy flowing off him. By being attuned to the Earth he can direct life energy resulting in an ability to quickly encourage plant growth, along with receiving life energy as a resource.

Flight: In his powered body he is capable of flight.

Earth-Mind: Due to the origin of his powers he retains a constant two-way link to the Earth, this link allows him to feel life around him, and attune himself to forces he couldn't as a normal human. This is also the evidence of the ever growing connection between the two.

Attributes (Select one at each category):
Height: Human 6'1, Terra Firma 10'0(Variable?)
Weight: 220lbs
Strength Level: 100+ Tons
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 60 mph(Variable?)
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 2 hours
Agility: 20x
Intelligence: Above Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained

Resources: Average

Weaknesses:
David’s bonding with the Earth isn’t complete and as such has limited defense against a psychic attack, depending on the severity of the attack the Earth may choose to forcefully disengage the link to spare either it's user or itself. In certain scenarios the Earth may choose to assume control. He can also be beaten down by an attacker if they were strong enough.

If defeated in his transformed body David would be unable to transform again until he has healed properly.

When he is a normal human he can hurt and be killed just as easily as anyone else, if not more so due to his reckless style.

Supporting Characters:
Dr. Carmine Williams: A colleague and like minded spirit David befriended the last time he lectured at Lost Haven University.

Sledge: Local small time hero, has named himself after a sledgehammer for obvious reasons.

Jones Family: A loving wife and daughter, he interacts often with them.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: maybe.

Character you have created: Detective Richard “Dick” Hunter

Alias: Roadblock

Speech Color: 00aeef

Character Alignment: Hero

Identity:It is known there is an Detective inside, the actual identity is known only to those with police connections.

Character Personality:His friends in the LHPD describe him as an, prideful, and honorable man. He believes in doing the right thing, the right way, it’s one of the many reasons he became a policeman. Even in a world where people are continuing to be born, or gifted, with both amazing and terrifying powers, Richard believes that common men can still live just fine in the world.

Metahumans have been around for a long while, longer than even Dick, and the police’s effectiveness has always been in question with the presence of "superheroes". And with that he’s made it his life goal to make sure the people know they can rely on the police, even with individuals like Icon flying around.

Uniform/costume:

Dick prides himself in being a detective, as such he wears a full, dark grey suit, along with a tie, a bright red one if he can help it. Occasionally throughout the week, depending on his mood, he may switch to striped patterns, or a tie with cats patterned across it. Richard is decently well built, he's not lanky, and he's not exactly overflowing with muscles, just somewhere in between. His hair is dirt brown, and he usually keeps it short and combed over to the side.







Origin Info/Details:



Season 2 summary:

• An somewhat accomplished detective joins a high tech department for metahumans
• Meets Fletch, Racheli and Hound during a HoH attack
• Meets Blacklight who had a short talk with Artemis
• Loses his HQ to an HoH attack and is now sharing a building with the closest station

Hero Type: Normal/Grey Matter

Power Level: Street/City/World

Equipment:

CKBLK v1.06 – Built to combat energy using metas of varying types, it surrounds it’s user with an invisible particle barrier that intercepts or diffuses incoming energy attacks. Higher level attacks may still bleed through, and physical attacks will pass through with little resistance.

Crystalline Composite Gel Layer –This synthetic gel layer alters it’s density to help absorb impact from stronger metahumans, as well as helping to regulate driver temperature.

Metahuman Specialized Foam – This foam hardens and sticks to most surfaces after being exposed to oxygen, intended to incapacitate metahumans in preparation for arrest. Usually carried in special canisters as fuel for the projector variant, but is also utilized in a small canister used as a grenade.

Metahuman Tracker – An integrated sensor unit used to track down suspects, capable of tracking targets through multiple spectrum, connects to NEROS.

Mounted AC-107 Blast Launcher – An experimental energy weapon, a condensed burst of energized particles is launched at supersonic speeds, usually used on high level targets, highly concussive.

Mounted Machine – A powerful multi-barrel machine gun, can also switch ammo type such as armor piercing, and even flares.

Variable Arc Launcher - A large specialized rifle, the gun sends a burst of electricity directed at the targets nervous system to induce pain and muscle contractions. Works much like a taser would just without the physical elements, different power settings for variability.

AI Module – Where Artemis, the LHSCD AI, resides in. Her existence is a closely guarded secret, but this part serves to house her, and connects her to the suit.

NEROS – (Neurological Emulating Responsive Operating System) - Designed to emulate the human brain and the nervous system, allowing its operating processes to meld more smoothly with its user, the NEROS system relays certain data as sensory information, allowing its user to "feel" what the machine feels, giving them heightened awareness, and faster reaction times. But the strain this would normally put on the human mind would be deadly, requiring the use of the AI to modulate and filter what is and isn't used.

Model R4DBL-K Armor AKA "Roadblock" - The newest mechanized suit developed by the LHSCD, developed from the previous proto-suit, originally meant to be a heavy armor add-on, it has since evolved into its own design for general use.

Polarized Armor Plating - The armor has an underlying layer made up of two or more electromagnetic plates separated by insulating material, creating a magnetic matrix. In operation, he armor's power source charges the armor and reinforces it by creating a repulsive magnetic reinforcement.

Grapple Wire - A steel cable that can be launched out in order to hamper foes, or in an attempt to incapacitate suspects. Can be electrified, voltage varies.

Jump-pack - This backpack equipment allows Richard to continue pursuit even into the air, however, the jets aren't strong enough for a full on chase, and instead are usually just used to help him get around faster. The Jump-Pack can also be traded out for several other utility options.

Attributes (Select one at each category):



Weaknesses:
Outside of his suits he can be killed just as easily as anyone else, it not more so due to his job.

It takes time to suit up, and if he’s on the field away from HQ he must wait for it to arrive via armored transport.

He may be the driver of the suit, but he does not know how it works. If he for some reason has to repair it he would have to rely on others.

Supporting Characters:
The other members of the LHSCD: Comprised of his coworkers and background support team.

Captain Kelly: A slightly overweight man, jovial and warm. He's also the commanding officer for the SCD.

Jennifer Cahill: Richard's partner, and also senior officer inside the LHSCD.

Dr. Fraiser: Leader of the development and support team for the LHSCD’s needs.

Artemis - The LHSCD's secret AI. She calls herself Artemis, gaining inspiration from the goddess of the hunt. Richard gets the feeling there's more to it but hasn't had the time to look into it.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:



Sample Post:

Character you have created: Shou Hanamura

Alias: Agent 4, or just 4

Speech Color: Steelblue

Character Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Identity: Secret

Character Personality: Shou is a very soft spoken man who can seem cold and distant to people he’s just met. In actuality he has a large heart, and truly does empathize with other people, he just has an incredibly hard time showing it. Shou often masks his emotions and how he really feels from people constantly, and while he tells himself it's because he wants to make sure his own feelings don’t influence a vulnerable civilian in a panicked state, it’s more because he feels that is a particular weakness of his. Shou will do what he’s told very dutifully, and isn’t known to act out against his superiors. He prefers finding new ways to follow the mission, rather than breaking Code, and possibly endangering his position.

Uniform/costume: A dark suit jacket with a white under shirt, and green tie. He has a moth shaped silver pin on his left breast pocket, and wears dark pressed pants. This is the uniform all Agents wear.

Origin Info/Details: Shou Hanamura was born to two very distant parents, people who wanted him to grow up to be more of a symbol of their heritage, rather than their son. They treated his sister the same way as well, but she arguably didn’t turn out quite like Shou did. The Hanamura family are renowned in the underworld as some of the best assassins to hire for a quick and easy job. They’re a well kept secret from the general public even, who see them as nothing more than a normal Japanese family. Shou’s family never sought after power in the seedy underbellies of the world, however. His father and mother were obsessed with the status they carried as assassins, rather than the power they held in the Yakuza or Mob.

They lived in Okinawa for a few years, and Shou’s parents were the ones to do the “dirty work” that paid their bills, until Shou and his sister Aiko became old enough in their eyes to start learning the family “Art’s”. From a very young age, Shou was taught various ways to kill people, and how to do it effectively and with perfection. Shou became a natural at it, his sister however did not, and his parents shamed her repeatedly for not measuring up to their expectations. He would defend her, though, no matter how his parents berated the two of them for it.

More years passed, and Shou and his sister had become adults. Their parents disowned Aiko, and sent her away from their family home, refusing to ever speak to her again. They expected Shou to follow the path they had led for him in taking over the family business and becoming the next Hanamura assassin in the family, however he proved faithful to his sister and followed her all the way to America. He continued his Assassin work there in order to make a living, while his sister pursued her passion for mechanical engineering. Soon, however, his parents began to here word of his deeds in America, and were angry with him for continuing the family Art with their name.
To prove a horrible point of just how much they disliked both of their children, the two parents began to send other assassins after them. Of course, they knew these assassins would fail miserably at the hands of Shou, but they sent them anyway in the hopes that maybe one day his sister would be caught in the cross fires of a botched attempt. They wanted to try to hurt them in any way they could, and decided the bond they shared would be enough.

Shou spent days watching over his sister, exhausted from having to deal with poor excuses for assassins. It wasn’t so much that they were particularly skilled, it was the sheer volume of assassins his parents had hired. The siblings soon found themselves at an impossible impasse, where one was needlessly dealing with threats every other day, and the other was trying to get her brother to rest for once.

One day, they received a visitor they weren’t expecting. It was a young woman in a nicely tailored suit, and a neat silver moth shaped pin on her chest. She introduced herself as Leila Motley, a leader of a secret organization known as PARADOX that was bent on helping people in need who found themselves in unsavory situations with people from the underworld. She told them that she employed people of all kinds, from normal every day humans, to superhumans with incredible abilities. And she had heard through the grapevine of numerous dead assassins popping up that two Hanamura’s were in town.

She offered to help them shake the trail of their parents forever, if they agreed to become Paradox Agents, and work for her. Aiko agreed immediately, but Shou was apprehensive. He didn’t completely trust Leila at all, thinking that she could perhaps be a trap that his parents had laid out for them. But Aiko insisted, and thus they both began to work at the underground HQ in Houston.

Aiko worked as an Weaponsmith of sorts, creating more and more unique machines to help advance the powers and abilities of the Supers who worked at the Agency, and Shou worked on the field, helping people with the skills he had gained over the years. He soon rose up in the ranks, and took the title “Agent 4” when he successfully completed his 100th mission with no mistakes made.

He now works to help people in the midst of a disaster that has struck the planet as a whole seemingly out of nowhere and it’ll take a lot more than just himself to get through something like this.

Hero Type: Normal

Power Level: Street level

Powers: None

Attributes (Select one at each category):
Has access to a variety of weapons at HQ, as well as the various high end guns his sister creates. HQ also houses a library, both physical and digital.

Weaknesses:
-Has weak skin, isn’t impervious to being stabbed or shot
-Has low stamina and tires quickly.
-Is not very strong, can only lift a certain amount before hurting himself.
-Is not very skilled against an opponent with a sword or long blade. Only knows how to fight with a dagger or small knife.

Supporting Characters:
-Aiko Hanamura: Shou’s only sister, and Paradox’s official weaponsmith. (Agent 43)
-Leila Motley: Shou’s boss, and the leader of Paradox.
-Conner Ashlen: Shou’s Paradox partner who helps him on various assignments. (Agent 5)
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: yes

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
NO BBC CODE
………………...
Character you have created: Shou Hanamura

Alias: Agent 4, or just 4

Speech Color: Steelblue

Character Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Identity: Secret

Character Personality: Shou is a very soft spoken man who can seem cold and distant to people he’s just met. In actuality he has a large heart, and truly does empathize with other people, he just has an incredibly hard time showing it. Shou often masks his emotions and how he really feels from people constantly, and while he tells himself it's because he wants to make sure his own feelings don’t influence a vulnerable civilian in a panicked state, it’s more because he feels that is a particular weakness of his. Shou will do what he’s told very dutifully, and isn’t known to act out against his superiors. He prefers finding new ways to follow the mission, rather than breaking Code, and possibly endangering his position.

Uniform/costume: A dark suit jacket with a white under shirt, and green tie. He has a moth shaped silver pin on his left breast pocket, and wears dark pressed pants. This is the uniform all Agents wear.

Origin Info/Details: Shou Hanamura was born to two very distant parents, people who wanted him to grow up to be more of a symbol of their heritage, rather than their son. They treated his sister the same way as well, but she arguably didn’t turn out quite like Shou did. The Hanamura family are renowned in the underworld as some of the best assassins to hire for a quick and easy job. They’re a well kept secret from the general public even, who see them as nothing more than a normal Japanese family. Shou’s family never sought after power in the seedy underbellies of the world, however. His father and mother were obsessed with the status they carried as assassins, rather than the power they held in the Yakuza or Mob.

They lived in Okinawa for a few years, and Shou’s parents were the ones to do the “dirty work” that paid their bills, until Shou and his sister Aiko became old enough in their eyes to start learning the family “Art’s”. From a very young age, Shou was taught various ways to kill people, and how to do it effectively and with perfection. Shou became a natural at it, his sister however did not, and his parents shamed her repeatedly for not measuring up to their expectations. He would defend her, though, no matter how his parents berated the two of them for it.

More years passed, and Shou and his sister had become adults. Their parents disowned Aiko, and sent her away from their family home, refusing to ever speak to her again. They expected Shou to follow the path they had led for him in taking over the family business and becoming the next Hanamura assassin in the family, however he proved faithful to his sister and followed her all the way to America. He continued his Assassin work there in order to make a living, while his sister pursued her passion for mechanical engineering. Soon, however, his parents began to here word of his deeds in America, and were angry with him for continuing the family Art with their name.
To prove a horrible point of just how much they disliked both of their children, the two parents began to send other assassins after them. Of course, they knew these assassins would fail miserably at the hands of Shou, but they sent them anyway in the hopes that maybe one day his sister would be caught in the cross fires of a botched attempt. They wanted to try to hurt them in any way they could, and decided the bond they shared would be enough.

Shou spent days watching over his sister, exhausted from having to deal with poor excuses for assassins. It wasn’t so much that they were particularly skilled, it was the sheer volume of assassins his parents had hired. The siblings soon found themselves at an impossible impasse, where one was needlessly dealing with threats every other day, and the other was trying to get her brother to rest for once.

One day, they received a visitor they weren’t expecting. It was a young woman in a nicely tailored suit, and a neat silver moth shaped pin on her chest. She introduced herself as Leila Motley, a leader of a secret organization known as PARADOX that was bent on helping people in need who found themselves in unsavory situations with people from the underworld. She told them that she employed people of all kinds, from normal every day humans, to superhumans with incredible abilities. And she had heard through the grapevine of numerous dead assassins popping up that two Hanamura’s were in town.

She offered to help them shake the trail of their parents forever, if they agreed to become Paradox Agents, and work for her. Aiko agreed immediately, but Shou was apprehensive. He didn’t completely trust Leila at all, thinking that she could perhaps be a trap that his parents had laid out for them. But Aiko insisted, and thus they both began to work at the underground HQ in Houston.

Aiko worked as an Weaponsmith of sorts, creating more and more unique machines to help advance the powers and abilities of the Supers who worked at the Agency, and Shou worked on the field, helping people with the skills he had gained over the years. He soon rose up in the ranks, and took the title “Agent 4” when he successfully completed his 100th mission with no mistakes made.

He now works to help people in the midst of a disaster that has struck the planet as a whole seemingly out of nowhere and it’ll take a lot more than just himself to get through something like this.

Hero Type: Normal

Power Level: Street level

Powers: None

Attributes (Select one at each category):
Height:5”7
Weight:145 Lbs
Strength: Is not particularly strong in any way that's extraordinary.
Mobility: is incredibly fast and agile, his ability to parkour his way across a concrete jungle makes him far faster than more people.
Intelligence: Is very smart, but not a genius. He’s far better at reading people then he is at reading books.
Fighting Skill: Is very skilled in hand to hand combat,gun training and knives.
Resources:
Has access to a variety of weapons at HQ, as well as the various high end guns his sister creates. HQ also houses a library, both physical and digital.

Weaknesses:
-Has weak skin, isn’t impervious to being stabbed or shot
-Has low stamina and tires quickly.
-Is not very strong, can only lift a certain amount before hurting himself.
-Is not very skilled against an opponent with a sword or long blade. Only knows how to fight with a dagger or small knife.

Supporting Characters:
-Aiko Hanamura: Shou’s only sister, and Paradox’s official weaponsmith. (Agent 43)
-Leila Motley: Shou’s boss, and the leader of Paradox.
-Conner Ashlen: Shou’s Paradox partner who helps him on various assignments. (Agent 5)
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: yes

Character you have created: Milliard S. Leigher
Alias: Verge
Speech Color: Gold
Character Alignment: Villain
Identity: Milliard Silvio Leigher (prounounce: Mill-I-ard Sil-vio-Lay-err)
Character Personality: Milliard views himself as the liberator of the world, the rightful protector and the only one fitting to guide the world forwards to it's future. He despises humankind but holds animals in a general higher regard, especially dogs. Milliard is a very determined and steadfast person, he is also very reserved in his person and doesn't like people touching him. He will likely not shake hands with you or even stand very close to you unless he has to or is in a fight. He is cunning, manipulative and relentless in his pursuits to make progress, while at times he may present himself as kind, merciful and just. Whereof that is true or not depends fully on who you are, or maybe what you are. He does not approve of sadistic people, neither is he amused by sarcasm or sassy behaviour. He does however greatly appreciate irony and thinking of the natural world, plantlife aswell as animals of various kinds.

He doesn't feel bad for killing humans in battle as he considers it to be showing them mercy, he highly dislike seeing suffering and generally does what he can to prevent it. Even if the one suffering is a human, he has compassion but it is for the earth and the natural world mainly, which he considers humankind does not belong to. When faced with religious people he keeps up the belief that he is in fact 'the chosen one', and that their god(s) are false and has been unable to save the earth. When it comes to those of superhuman abilities, Milliard bears not the same hostility towards them as with those who are human or display very minor superhuman skills. The young man considers them to be in a sense just like him. Thus it would not be a surprise if he may spare a fellow superhuman from death or serious injury if the person has not been irredeemable in his eyes. He notices in general good people, but often he does not agree with their ways at all, prefering to take action rather than diplomacy. Ultimately he does not believe humans can co-exist with those that have superhuman powers, neither should humans exist at all according to him.

Uniform/costume: Tan colored suit, black tie, white shirt and black shoes (All eco friendly). When in costume he wears a tight longsleeved black shirt, tight black pants, black boots and black gloves (Again all eco friendly). Usually he also wears an armor made of diamond outside of it and a sword made out of diamond aswell, formed by his own powers.
Origin Info/Details: Milliard never knew his parents, he was left as an infant at an orphanage in Los Angeles, to which he ran away from when he had gotten older. Living on the streets was tough, and he generally saw the darker kinds of humankind. Especially during the nights, whereof he kept himself out of harms way, he early began to despise humanity. Whereof it had to do what his parents did to him, or the evil he saw during the nights when he was homeless. The youngling made his living by 'borrowing' things belonging to shopkeepers, usually these things involved food, drinks or other necessary things. Things finally looked up for him as he was affected by the dome of energy created by Doctor Diplodoc, the scientist who created the serum to make humans into something else. Milliard didn't know how long he had been exposed to it until he was awakened by a group of thugs causing a ruckus, whereof they noticed him and grapped him. One of the thugs brandished a knife and threatened to carve him up if he told anyone what he may have seen or heard, out of a mix of anger and pure reflex he raised his hands on seeing the blade of the knife glimmering. What soon followed was a blast of raw energy and light, which knocked the thugs back to the ground and Milliard landed on his back, getting slowly to his feet he looked at his hands brimming with glowing light and at the look of the faces of those having seen it, the thugs were certainly surprised and one of them yelled out that they should get out of there, that the boy was one of those 'freaks'. What was this power? He didn't know at the time, but time would indeed reveal many things for him.

The leader of the thugs saw this as an opportunity, perhaps one where he could sell him at highest bidder to some underground boss. The leader drew a gun out of the back of his pants, hidden under his jacket and pointed it at the young man, while he approached to place a hand on the young man's shoulder. The man had told him that he should come with them, that he had someone to introduce him to. Milliard wanted nothing to do with this, and if there was something he hated it was when someone was placing their hand on him. The young man had quickly reached out to grab the wrist of the gunwielding thug, who looked abit surprised at this.

"Get your hands off me!" Milliard had screamed out, what soon followed was a large flash of light. When the light finally faded, the thug was gone, it was as if he had been disintigrated at the spot. The remaining thugs fled soon after with their panic ridden faces. As for the young man, he dwelled on what had just happened, realizing he had indeed killed that man. He knew that he was no longer powerless, he had been given a gift and to not use a gift when one had it was indeed to spit fortune in the face. The young man soon realized just what manner of powers he had been given, and with this power came also deeper conviction and belief that he had been selected. To right all that was wrong with the world, the thug which had grabbed him were just the first. Even if he had dwelled on what had happened to him, and coming to the realization that the thug had been killed by his power alone. There was no turning back. There never was.

A young man without a past, a present which was rotten... the future was the only thing remaining. It would have to do, and he would make certain to use this newfound power to make the future how it should be. How it must be. The young man found himself able to create crystals and other things, not only the pure light that was engulfing him. The ability to create diamond and other valuable things came to use for him, he sold them locally is small amounts to not attract too much attention. Some were sold to jewelers, and some were sold to thugs who wanted to make an easy coin. Given the money needed, the young man saw to outfit himself better, getting an attire to make him appear as if he came from a rich family. Looks could get you far in the world, far enough that some would turn a blind eye when doing minor illegal things. As time passed his customers became more and he increased his wealth, but to attain money had never been in his interest. It was just a stepping stone to get where he needed to be. And after time he was able to procure himself a home, bribing a man to pose as his father. How far one could go by using peoples greed, it was a thing he would never forget. It was a thing he couldn't forget. If there was anything he knew, it was that people were greedy and selfish things. He had no love for any of them. They were all disgusting and shallow.

Having procured himself a home, a mansion to be precise was indeed going to aid in his plans for the future, his hired 'father' figure was soon relieved of his duty and all service personell were dismissed. He wanted as little as possible to do with them. They were so unlike him, at first it was only in behaviour he thought but now it was even more apparent. There were two different kinds of mankind. Whereof he had been selected as one of the new. It didn't take him long to get underway in creating an underground vault under his home, using his newly given earth powers he moved rocks, stones and dirt as he desired. The very earth bending and shaping under his will. He also knew that there was being out there who was watching him, who had bestowed a part of his power to him. He knew not much of it, nor did he think it was as important as cleansing the world.

The vault underneath the mansion soon came to be a vast and hollow place, it's walls reinforced by all manner of stone, crystal and gems. Like massive square like cave, this would be the perfect place to test and master his powers. The power to reshape not only the earth... but everything. Though he couldn't be underground all the time, nor within the mansion which was offputting to him. But it was a means to remain undisturbed by neighbours and other people. Other people which he hated so very much. Nature was another matter. He had learnt to use his powers to quickly locate himself outside of the city, to where there was more wildlife and the air was different. Soon it would all be just like it...

Season 1/2 Summary: Having bought himself a mansion using diamonds and gold created by his powers, Millard spent his time training his powers in a specially made chamber in his home.
Hero Type: Energy/Psychic
Power Level: City level -> World level (If left to his devices)
Powers:Attributes (Select one at each category):

- Light creation and manipulation: Assortment of beams, orbs and cone shaped attacks of light for devastating results. He may also imbue objects with light energy or channel his powers through them like his armor and sword that he normally would be equipped with. His light powers can easily penetrate concrete and tank armor, providing he has not been completely exhausted, weakened or somehow nullified. Often he creates orbs of light which follow him around like small (tennisball size) floating wisps. Sometimes he may create a blinding light aswell using these powers, while it does not cause any damage it may be difficult for others to see through it with normal eyesight.
- Light absorption (Active defense): Milliard may chose to activate a defense which allows him to absorb various sources of light energy. This remains active until he choses to deactivate it.
- Photoportation: Milliard may teleport himself to a place he has a clear recollection of or to a place within his vision. The former is more taxing than the latter. The latter he uses in battle, the former very seldomly so. Only if he really needs to get out of his position. This power does not work in areas of complete darkness unless there's a source of light.
- Light empowerment (Activation, then passive for one hour or until renewed): Milliard's strength, durability, endurance and speed is increased when empowered by light for up to an hour unless renewed. Which he may have administered to himself or gotten through Light absorption. The empowerment manifests itself as shining wings of golden light. This empowerment does not blind others from seeing him.
- Ageless: Does not physically age, but may still be affected by damage, virus, poisons or illness.
- Light healing: An out of battle kind of healing which allows him to mend his wounds, scratches and fleshwounds get healed quickly while deeper wounds take longer time. When it comes to broken bones they are the trickiest to restore as that takes days and much effort to heal.
- Earth creation and manipulation: He may crease rocks, dirt, crystals and various minerals and also manipulate to his desire in shape and purpose. Such as being able to use rocks and dirt to create a hill or a plataeu. He usually uses crystals as prisms for his light powers. Milliard may also manipulate pre-existing earthly materials like dirt, rocks, crystals etc.
- Seismic sense (Active ability): May sense movement in the ground if he reaches out to 'connect' with it. Other earth manipulators may however hinder this from working properly. He also cannot use it while flying or hovering.
- Earthquake: A channel ability which is very taxing on him both mentally and physically, but given enough time he could potentially level an entire city if left alone for too long. It would first be a slight tremble in the earth, then gradually shake more and more until things would start to fall in on itself.
- Indomitable mind: If the determination of the young man were not enough on their own, that he also has access to psychic abilities further reinforces his mind against attacks of it's kind.
- Photo-Telekinesis: While he normally can shoot beams and orbs of light with his light creation and manipulation, photo-telekinesis allows him to bend his own beams when he wishes to, with abit of an effort ofcourse. It isn't as effortless as shooting his regular beams of light into his crystals but it gives him a tool to use to catch foes possibly unawares after a possible evade.
- Photokinetic flight: Bestows the ability to fly or hover, his body slightly glows abit when he does, not enough to blind or anything.
- Geokinesis: Milliard generally uses geokinesis to move the things he has created via earth manipulation, these can be both rocks or various types of crystals. Which Milliard uses for both defense and offense. The crystals serve as relays for his beams and orbs of light, causing them to bounce inbetween them and around corners to strike from various angles. Rocks serve more use as a physical type of attack or to block enemy attacks. While he may be able to create and manipulate sand with his earth manipulation, he generally will not do it as it does not synergize well with his light manipulation. Crystals and rocks manipulated by geokinesis may hover around him if he desires.
- Geo-shockwave: When standing on the ground he may manipulate the earth to shoot out of the ground in a wave-like manner at quite the force.

High (Precious mineral creation buisness)

Weaknesses:

- Regular human weakness of having to eat, drink, sleep, breathe and so forth.
- Powerful sonic attacks may shatter his crystals, sword and armor (if he wears it).
- When not empowered by his light powers he is aside from his speed comparable to a normal human.
- Milliard is overambitious and overconfident at times.
- Overly kind and persistant people (Since they may disrupt his view on the world and humankind as a whole and possibly make him doubt his action.)
- May be beaten badly in hand to hand combat or swordsplay by someone whose trained (Martial artists, kendo users, fencers etc)

Supporting Characters: None currently
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Yep!
Sample Post:

The basement was dark, water dripped down along the pipes that were going along the ceiling, bringing water to the apartments above. The journalist had found herself in more trouble than she would have thought, searching for the next scoop. She was now bound by a wooden chair in a dark room and before her stood a young man dressed in a suit and some small hovering orbs of light circulating around him as if he was the sun and they were the planets. Had she gotten knocked uncouncious when she snuck into the suspicious building? She couldn't remember, but all she knew now was that she was stuck and couldn't reply. All she could do now was to hear what the young man was going to tell her.

"Oh what's that? You wanted to know who I am? I shall grant you this honor as a last wish before you die... My name is Milliard Silvio Leigher, also known as Verge. I was born in the city of angels as the humans call it, seventeen years ago, to parents unknown. An orphan if you wish, they did not want me, and now that I've become old enough, I've realized I didn't need them neither. I suppose it is human nature which causes them to discard things which are inconvienient, troublesome or unwanted. One of those things be guilt, oh they try so hard to avoid feeling that. Even if they have to harm eachother to satisfy their own view of themselves. At some point in the past, I was feeling guilt just like so many of them, was it my fault I was discarded? Unwanted? It wasn't I who abandoned humankind, it is humankind which abandoned me, just like they've abandoned this world.

How long have they killed each other, hunted things for sport, exploited the land, defiled the seas, harvested the forests and made several kind of beings extinct. Yet they think themselves so good and rightious, that they are without any blame, thinking they are the exception to the rule of nature that eventually everything ends. That nothing is eternal. That their own extinction is at the horizon, they seem to discard that as many other things. The only thing which needs to be discarded now is humankind, so that the earth can be restored to how it should be. Just like how mankind was once drowned, as it said in the bible. We of the supreme power are the chosen ones for the Ark, the ones to guide the world forwards. But every Ark needs a Noah. You are looking at him but you are also looking at god... they've become one and the same you see, Noah and he. I shall enlighten these mortals of their wicked ways with purifying light and the wrath of the very earth they've been plaguing for so long. They will join the dinosaurs in the annals of time.

Innocent people? There is no such thing, their hands are tainted with blood and divine judgement is at hand, and I will be the one delivering it. Soon there will be a day of reckoning for everyone, blissful light at the end of their dark tunnel. Isn't that the kindest path to go? Why wait for them to curse and destroy each other and spread unnecessary suffering across the world, and inflict more violations to the earth. The earth must be protected, even if the enemy is humankind. Don't you agree? Hahah... ofcourse not. You would never understand because you are one of them, someone who haven't been given the gift could never hope to understand the meaning behind it. You see... I was given this power not only to be protect and guide this world, there will be evolution through an earthly and shining revolution! Oh what's with that look? Ahh.. you understand the beauty of it now? Whereof you do or not is of no importance.

What is of importance however is that the world is liberated and brought into the gentle light that I will bestow upon it. Oh do you happen to have a dog? Worry not, I shall do my outmost to make certain it will survive what you will not. Dogs are loyal and happy to just be living, whereof you humans are never truly happy. You always strive higher and further up, and it is because of this that I came into contact with the gift. Ironic don't you think? That it is humankind's own hand that is stabbing it in the heart? I find the irony simply glorious. What better way is there for there epitaph, to be destroyed by their own greed and endless desire...

Ahh, but enough of this... I have some work that needs to be done, I shall have elevate a city to a shining new horizon."

The young man shot the orbs towards the woman setting her free from her restraints as the ropes where swiftly cut off by the light energy. "Enjoy your last moments however you wish... soon will come the final goodnight kiss."

Personal theme:

Character you have created: Indra Sukhavira

Alias: Apex

Speech Color: Silver

Character Alignment: Walk The Line

Identity: Known to Dullahan, since he was an experiment using Racheli's modified blood.

Character Personality: Just a professional data entrist who had no real aspirations for heroism or villainy. Always believing himself to be worthy of better, greater things, as most people do. Obviously he wanted to be rich and powerful, he wanted to step out and become someone who history would remember, but he never had the confidence and ability.

Suddenly thrust into being a powerful individual, he's nervous, uncertain, and lost. He has no idea how long he's been in a storage chamber, but he's certain that everyone he knows thinks he's dead.

Uniform/costume: Dingy hospital gown and a curtain wrapped around his waist.

Origin Info/Details: Father from India, mother from California. Originally, he was a guy with a mediocre adaptive body superpower. Not sufficient to be a superhero, but just good enough to be noteworthy in most workplace scenarios. He could type faster than anyone else because he'd start growing extra fingers, he could reach higher shelves because he'd get a bit taller, etc. Then shortly after an event where Dullahan obtained a sample that could alter or grant meta abilities he disappeared. Indra was officially declared missing as of a week later, and put into experimentation against his will due to his convenient testing bed of abilities.

The rapid changes to his body were deemed unstable and he was put in stasis and stored in a third party facility with no official connection to Dullahan. The power used by his stasis pod was drawn directly from the city grid illegally and had no paperwork attached to it. Officially speaking, there was no proof of his existence. Until just about five minutes ago when the power went down due to a meteorite striking the building.

Season 1/2 Summary: Being experimented on, put in stasis due to instability during testing.

Hero Type: Shape Shifter

Power Level: Street Level to Cosmic

Powers:
Constant Adaptation: Apex exists in a state of constant evolution, every single aspect of the world around him is constantly being evolved in real time to deal with in the best way possible. An example of this adaptation is how his eyes adapt to light, during the day his eyes are smaller and his brow shades his eyes from the sun. During the night his eyes are larger and mimic those of predatory animals. This adaptation does not follow the laws of physics in regards to where the adaptations come from. If his bones need to be made out of iron, iron will replace the calcium of his bones. If he has to be heavier, size and mass will form in his body.

Claws, fangs, horns and spikes can grow from any point on his body. His skin changes color depending on exposure to sunlight and surrounding environment. Exactly like a cuttlefish his skin can change to match texture and color around it, were he to need to hide himself.

His posture also adjusts itself depending on how he intends to move. Walking long distances he'll remain totally upright, but his arms and legs will morph to be longer and he'll drop to all fours.

These are just examples, there are obviously more, but detailing every adaptation to every scenario is impossible.

Attributes:



Weaknesses: His adaptations are uncontrollable, and the more adaptations that he is actively using the less brain power he has. He becomes gradually less and less human, falling into the animal brain and eventually lizard brain. It is also impossible to hide his abilities, conceal his identity, or even fit in with other people as his appearance is constantly shifting.

Supporting Characters:
Racheli: The source from which his power was modified. Not known to him.
Dullahan: The one who modified his power. Only known to him as "A person who experimented on him."

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Yes.

Sample Post:
To Indra's knowledge, he'd been on his way home from work. Walking, since it was healthier and his body was better suited for it, he passed his favorite coffee shop and the creepy alleyway right next to it. Suddenly he found himself bound and on a cold steel table where his consciousness flickered in and out. Every time it flickered he could feel his body changing. As if he were actively reacting to some kind of stress or environmental change. The flickering conscious moments stopped abruptly after some time, and there was a long dark silence. If he were thinking during that time he couldn't remember.

Then suddenly the sound of klaxon filled his ears, light and sound, abrupt and shocking. The sound of a fire alarm, the spray of ceiling mounted fire suppressant nozzles, glass shattering as his entire body shifted suddenly and whatever container he was in crashed against the ground in a crystalline clatter of noise and creaking of metal.

Gulping down air as if he'd suddenly been pulled headfirst from the depths of the ocean his eyes frantically scanned the room as he sprawled on the floor, desperately trying to figure out his new and inhuman musculature. His fingers and feet got cut on the glass as he scrambled towards the broken wall at the opposite side of the room. Chaos was outside, Lost Haven was being invaded by aliens? A meteorite hit the building he was in? He reached out and grabbed a fallen curtain and wrapped it around his waist, the uncomfortable breeze making this decision rather than necessity.

"What the fuck?" Was all that he could say.

The Cleaner
Alejandro's day job is as a forensic science technician, but when he's not solving crimes he's covering them up by being a cleaner for the gang that his dad runs. They may be criminals, but they do have standards. Even with those standards however, sometimes things go wrong. When they do, they call Alejandro to make it all disappear and keep heat off of the family.

Muerte
During his free time he becomes a vigilante who keeps the more dangerous criminal elements in check. If someone's dealing drugs to kids, beating up/killing prostitutes, or starting gang wars that would endanger civilians, Alejandro shuts that s**t down. He gives only one warning. If in 24 hours there is no change he takes out all of the leaders of the offending gang as well as anyone who tries to stop him. Anyone left is allowed to flee or start over, but if they try to avenge their fallen comrades or go back to the problem activities then they too will be marked for death. If they run before time is up and try to settle in a different town without stopping the problem activities, Muerte hunts them down anyway.

Alejandro is a multifaceted individual, quite like a gemstone. You have to see multiple sides of him in multiple different lights to get the whole picture of who he is. One side of him is happy-go-lucky, hedonistic, and the life of the party. Another is cold, calculating, and quite capable of murder. He is not a “good” person, but he is a moral one, and is far better than a lot of “bad” people. He is nice to his allies and vicious to his enemies. He is patient and slow to anger, but once he's snapped there is no going back. He is also curious, philosophical, and a hard core people watcher. His pass-times include hanging out in bars/clubs, drinking, hanging out with friends/family, doing deep dives on Wikipedia articles, and night-lighting as an EMT or prostitute depending on what mood he's in.

When he is Muerte he wears a black leather jacket over a t-shirt with black leather pants, boots, and fingerless gloves. He also wears a mask that covers his whole head (quite like a wrestler's mask) that has the visage of a Day of the Dead skull on it. This outfit is specially designed to be resistant tearing, stabbing, and fire but is not indestructible.

He was born in Mexico and raised by his mom and stepdad until he was about 8 years old. He had three siblings: an older sister, and two younger ones. He does not have the same father as his sisters due to his mom breaking up with his stepdad for a few years before getting back together with him. Alejandro doesn't know who his father really is. His stepdad resented the reminder that his wife had been with anyone else and abused him physically and verbally. He's been “different” since he can remember. His sisters knew about his powers but he kept it a secret from their parents.

One day his stepdad pissed off some local cartel members and when he refused to back down or apologize the cartel shot up the house. Only Alejandro and his baby sister Anna survived the attack. Not knowing where else to go he took her to the local church where the Padre took them in and made plans to get them into America to a foster family up North. It took 2 years but he finally found a group willing to take them. Unfortunately the group that they were with got caught at the border, but Alejandro managed to sneak into another vehicle with Anna before they were found too. That vehicle happened to belong to a Nickolas Grange, leader of a stateside motorcycle gang called The Raiders. Nick, not having any interest in taking in strays, was just going to leave them in the first town he came across but Alejandro “persuaded” him by punching a dent into the hood of his car.

8 years later of being raised by a supportive, but criminal man, Alejandro completes high-school and travels back to Mexico to find the people who killed his mother and other sisters. This is his first act as Muerte. He found them and took out the whole cartel. When he got back to the states he enrolled in college and split his time between school, looking after his kid sister, the family “business”, and being a vigilante. In another few years he graduated with a Master's in Forensic Science and got a job freelancing for local and federal cases to help with their backlogs. His sister lives in Miami, FL with their Dad. His friends Jesus and Jacque live in Lost Haven where he has lived for the passed 3 years.

Inhuman Strength: Spiderman level (can lift a car, but not a train)

Kinetic Redistribution: punches, bullets, speeding vehicles etc. cannot hurt him because he absorbs the energy and disperses it. He must expel the energy within 15secs or he will take damage. He can use it as an attack or disperse it as heat

Healing Factor: Wolverine level healing, cannot regenerate limbs or survive his brain being destroyed but as long as most of him remains intact he'll eventually recover, most poisons/toxins lethal to humans get processed and recovered from within minutes

Analytical Mind: Sherlock/Batman level of assessing a scene/situation/person to calculate outcomes, causes, or counters within 15 seconds (must be able to stand relatively still without speaking and be in visual range of all relevant data, if interrupted he must start over)

Emotional Influence: he has a low level psychic field that he can use to manipulate the emotional states of those within it. He can't make them actually do anything, only influence what they feel in the moment. He can make an angry person calmer, he can make a sad person more cheerful, or a cautious person more relaxed. Range is 15 feet.

Nickolas Grange: gang leader, TV junkie, dad




Anna Grange: martial arts champion, social media savant, sister




Jesus Cristo: crafting master, giant spider dude, best friend


(Disclaimer: Artwork belongs to CannibalHarpy on DeviantArt, I just changed the colors)



Jacquelyn Tyler: badass b*tch, prostitute, ex girlfriend




Hank Rosco: chain-smoker, veteran and cheif on the force, boss

Alejandro lay in the bed of his 5th wheel, shirtless and snoring, as daylight crept in and revealed the train wreck that was his day off. The ground, table, and bed were littered with dozens of beer cans, empty cans of food, and a few ripe take out containers. The TV still played at low volume the marathon of Forensic Files he'd passed out to.

A low buzzing sound broke the silence as his phone lit up from a call. Alejandro barely stirred until the device buzzed its way across the table and tumbled off the edge along with a couple of beer cans. He groaned and shifted, sending more cans to the floor, to search for the source of the noise. When he finally grasped it, he glared at the caller I.D. with a single bleary eye before answering it in his Latino tenor.

“Its my day off Rosco.”

“I know, but we've got a double homicide in Little Sicily.” Alejandro could hear chatter in the background. Rosco was obviously at the scene, and he sounded on edge.

“I only take one day off Rosco, why isn't the state lab doing it?”

“We need YOU Grange. Get your ass over here and you'll see why, preferably before the press gets here. I'll buy you a pizza.”

Alejandro fell silent just long enough to make Rosco squirm. “Give me 30 minutes.”

He sat up and rubbed his face, sending another can to its doom, before getting up and starting to dress. He knew he could have said no, but something about Rosco's tone had intrigued him. It must be a particularly gruesome scene, that or a scene the state couldn't figure out. After dressing he took a swig of milk from the jug in the fridge, grabbed his work bag, and headed out to his bike at the back of the 5th wheel. Within seconds it roared to life and Alejandro sped off to the crime scene.

When he rolled up up to the location Alejandro could see that a crowd was already forming around the police tape. With a quick shift in weight, he zipped down a side street so he could avoid the curious eyes of the civies and media. After parking his bike Alejandro unzipped his bag to start putting on his suit, booties, and gloves.

“When are you gonna get a helmet for that damned thing?” There was the flick of a lighter and a long pause as Rosco inhaled behind him.

“When I need one,” Alejandro quiped back as he zipped his bag up.

He ignored the acidic look Rosco gave him and headed to where little plastic number cards marked the trail to a grisly sight. Alejandro knew instantly why Rosco had called him in. Blood, body parts, and clothing lay scattered across the ally. He took a breath, relaxed his shoulders, and took in the scene. Two arms, one hand, three feet, partial leg, and partial torso. Parts scattered...elongated blood spots...Explosion? No scorch marks, no trace of a device. Unless... He walked over to where the mostly intact torso lay and shone his flashlight on the mutilated flesh. He was aware of Rosco's eyes on him, praying that Alejandro would give him some way of understanding the disturbing sight. Alejandro ignored him and put his face as close to the remains as possible. He pulled out a pair of tweezers and a bag before extracting a bone shard from the skin. Definitely an explosion. But from where? The next several minutes were devoted to taking sample from every chunk of flesh, splat of blood, and piece of clothing. When he was finished he found the point where all the blood splatter angled toward. After several seconds he sighed and walked back to Rosco.

“Well?” Rosco said as he lit a second cigarette.

“You're not going to like it,” Alejandro said as he piled all the evidence packets into a cooler and starting to remove his suite.

“Just tell me,” came the snappy retort.

“As far as I can tell, it was an explosion.”

“Explosion? Then where's the bomb?”

“The second victim WAS the bomb.”

“What?”

“Found bone shrapnel in the torso of one of the victims. Could have only got there if someone exploded next to them. There's no burning or scorching anywhere though so it couldn't have been a device. Something made one of our victims explode from the inside.”

“Was it a Sup?”

“I need to examine the evi-”

“What else could it have been?! People don't just explode out of nowhere Grange. If the press gets wind of this-”

Alejandro turned and looked Rosco right in the eye and the man seemed to deflate under his gaze. “I am going to examine the evidence. I'll tell you what happened then. Just do what you always do: smoke, keep a lid on things, and don't answer any questions directly. You'll do just fine...”

He injected some calm into that last word. Rosco's shoulders relaxed and he took a steadying breath.

“Let me know as soon as you know ANYTHING about what happened. And try not to get distracted ok?”

Alejandro nodded and got on his bike. “You still owe me a pizza,” he said before tearing out of the alley.

Hours later Alejandro was staring into a microscope in his lab, the ugly truth of the alleyway murders staring back at him. After the bloodwork from one of the victims had come back with some bizarre results he had decided to double check the tissue samples. What he found there had left him with one conclusion: the cells had been mutated, and forcibly so. He didn't know which had come first, mutation or explosion, but he did know that this spelled trouble.

Alejandro stood up suddenly and started dialing a number on his phone, pacing up and down the length of his 5th wheel. As soon as Rosco's sleep saturated voice answered Alejandro wasted no time speaking.

“You need to get a hold of every street contact you have, we may have a new drug on the streets...”

Character you have created: Lo Chung
Alias(S):Router, Big Lo, Little Lo, Little Sister. She is known by The Thousand Fold Lotus as "Toxin".
Outfit/Costume: Router likes to wear leather and go for a "cyberpunk meets the las vegas underground" style. Expect studs and a general punk aesthetic. When out and about, she will often wear a helmet that serves as a controller for her drones along with her general leathers. Her main costume is a simple bandana to cover her face, giving her an urban ninja look.


Speech Color: Pink of Some Kind
Character Alignment: Walking the Line
Identity:Secret
Character Personality: Router's sense of humor could be described as ironic, sarcastic, and sometimes condenscending. Being isolated most of her life, she had developed a obsession with pop culture and film and often will go out of her way to include references to those things in her "work" and conversations. Her ego is rather large due to her isolated childhood of essentially being told she was superior than "the simple average man" and it takes her a while to admit when she's wrong.

Origin Info/Details: Lo Chung was originally a chinese national, born in Chongqing in the Yuzhong district. She was raised by Lo Fang and Lo Jio, her mother and father for the first seven years of her life, until finally being brought to the secluded Diaoyu islands,a contested region in Chinese and Japanese territory.

There she was brought to a remote, underground temple, hidden from all satellite access and unknown to the rest of the world. There was the Council of the Thousand Fold Lotus, an ancient conspiracy, a myth, the puppet masters of Tianmen square, the Taiping Rebellion, and the originators of The Three Kingdoms period of Chinese history. She was brought to the 11th Panchen Llama, Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, who after his kidnapping by the CCP had been secretly brought to The Fold. He prepared two separate cups of tea, both of which he prepared in front of her by crushing red and purple leaves. She was told that one would give her grand power and the other, would kill her, and that only one with true humility could figure out which. After some consideration, she asked the Llama if he would simply tell her. He grinned and said, yes.

Taking the cup to her lip, she drank, and it was as if her mind was being pulled through a sieve. She fell and saw a thousand drops of dew reflected on a spiders web, each orb reflecting the other in a kaleidoscope of the infinite. The lotus opened beneath her and in it, she saw an eye, her eye, staring upwards as she fell into the iris, the black swallowing and taking her.

She awoke and tried to breathe. Water filled her lungs and she rose to the surface, gasping. She was pulled from the waters by the terra cotta Guardians of the Lotus, whos stone like hands gripped her and pulled her from the waters. She was brought to her parents, who stood in long, red robes. To her surprise, in the middle, was Uncle Yaoguai. She was brought to him and with needle and ink, branded with the tattoo of the Thousand Fold Lotus, a kaleidoscopic image of a lotus flower, a red eye in its center that covered most of her left shoulder.

She trained for years in their martial arts, disappearing from the face of the Earth, learning how to deal blows that could kill and those that would not. She discovered what powers she had gained from partaking in the ichor of The Polychromatic Lotus. The most obvious was her poisonous touch, anyone who touched her bared skin would first suffer lethargy, then painful shock, unconsciousness, and after a few hours, death. She could remember anything, with perfect recall. She could imitate any voice, no matter which it was. Hyperintelligence. These abilities eventually lead to her being trained in computers, electronics, ai, and she was sent at the age of seventeen to Shanghai Jiao Tong University under a false identity. When she returned two years later, she gained the codename, "Toxin" and served in several assassination attempts in Beijing, each of which were stopped by local heroes.

Over the years, the constant training and missions began to wear on her. The direction, the control. She wasn't convinced that The Thousandfold Lotus could ever unite the world and began to consider they were little more than a terrorist organization operating under the guise of their code, their morality, their goals. She studied english, and when the time was right, asked to take on an assignment in the Americas.

She was stationed in New York, tasked with assassinating Governor Andrew Cuomo. She spent a month "preparing" to assassinate the man, when in reality, she was planning to completely disappear. She dug a tracker from the back of her neck that had been implanted years ago, disabled a tracker on the bottom of her car, and drove, drove to a city filled with heroes, where no member of the Thousand Fold Lotus would dare attempt to track her.

Lost Haven, Maine.

Hero Type: Gray Matter
Power Level:Street Level, capable of escalating.
Powers: Toxin Control: Her most obvious power is the ability to, when making direct skin contact, through a toxin secreted in her sweat, cause extreme shock to most bodies systems and will result in death if not treated within the first few hours of contact. Its immediate effects are extreme lethargy which can be barely combated through sheer willpower, followed by painful waves of shock after a few minutes, before the toxin causes complete unconsciousness. She has control over when this toxin is released, and it gives her skin a sickly green color as her sweat begins to cover her skin when "active". This toxin is produced in her expanded adrenal gland and tends to activate naturally in a fight or flight situation. However, her most useful abilities are that of the mind.

Toxic Immunity and Removal: She is immune to most forms of poisons/toxins, and can form a antidote to most forms of poisons/toxins through her tear ducts.

Hyperintelligence, Perfect memory and recall: To the point she can even imitate voices perfectly. She can essentially learn anything, however, she can only read as quickly as a normal human and if a topic arises she's unaware about, she will have to read all about it to catch up on the subject. She's currently an expert in acting, drone production (engineering), blackhat hacking, programming, and would be considered an "expert" (only because there are not many other people who act in this field at all) in the extremely questionably ethical field of mind copying.

Mind Copy:The direct manifestation of this power, discovered far after her defection from The Thousand Fold Lotus, is after a long enough conversation with someone or even just watching and analyzing their behavior, she can transfer her memory of them using a brain scan headband into a drone. The imitation is nearly perfect but tends to veer off the original personality after a while. Due to this, most of her smarter drones are copies of herself, though she plans to expand what she calls "my roster".

As a result of her training in The Thousand Fold Lotus, she's essentially trained as a stealth expert/ninja.
Attributes:


Factory: She occupies a abandoned warehouse in the french quarter of New Haven she's slowly converting into a ai driven, manufacturing facility.

Drone production: She has a drone production line.

Access to Various Bank Accounts: She has access to thousands of bank accounts she takes small amounts of to fund her projects.

Weaknesses: Being pretty big on the ego, it's easy to anger Lo by insulting her intelligence or mocking her. She takes slights very seriously and often her anger will lead her to make mistakes. She's also, despite her abilities, a baseline human in regards to physical strength and agility, meaning she cannot naturally go toe to toe with enhanced supers in a fist fight.

Supporting Characters:

The Thousand Fold Lotus: You thought we would go away, did you? We will return you to us, Toxin, and you will serve your purpose as a petal of The Thousand Fold Lotus.

Little Lo: Lo's "main" drone in Lost Haven, though she doesn't have the heart to tell her she wasn't the original.

Mickie Carcoski: Her black market fence and unwilling ally.

NAME:
Neil Macintyre

ALIAS:
Nailtooth

SPEECH COLOR:
"Don_t mind _{the t}ee_th."

ALIGNMENT:
Villain

STATUS:
The nominal leader of the city-wide Human Trafficking Network based out of Lost Haven, known as Oubliette.

IDENTITY:
Known underworld quantity, contact, and person of interest. The sort of guy the FBI would be closely investigating if not for the implicit connections he leans on that make his business model possible.

PERSONALITY:
Nailtooth cuts an affable, teddy-bear demeanor that compliments him being built like a bear. He is very quick to lean on and present with his disability and easy-going countenance to make people underestimate him. Underneath the surface, Nailtooth is not a man who gets mad - he gets even. He is therefore notorious for his casual and unaffected behavior when it comes to killing others - he is the type of person to laugh along with a joke made at his expense and buy a round of drinks for everyone in the room, just to shoot the offending party as they raise glasses. Easily liked by most of the people he meets up until he sends them running with casual acts of egregious and disproportionate violence, he has built up a cult of personality around him by people in awe of his effortless combined charm and ruthlessness - whilst everyone else who knows about him keeps a wide berth. While this behavior has afforded Nailtooth with a reputation as a remorseless, unhinged killer, Nailtooth is a generous and fast friend to those who can navigate the mine field of his temperament - a group of people largely comprising other lunatics and serial killers.

OUTFIT:
Nailtooth wears a standard, irregular assortment of civilian attire. However, he is known to regularly wear a custom-tailored flight jacket with a fur inner-lining and collar. He also has a somewhat hard to see piercing, reminiscent of a nail-head, that juts from the bottom of his jaw.

ORIGIN:

TYPE:
Normal - Unpowered, Baseline Human

SCALE:
City

CAPABILITIES & EQUIPMENT:

• VIP Status

• Polychrome Psyche

• Overtime Overkill

ATTRIBUTES:

RESOURCES:
Nailtooth is the leader of a city-wide Human Trafficking Network known as Oubliette. He has bodyguards, custom-tooled weaponry, hitmen and dirty cops on speed-dial, and even access to a few esoteric trinkets. He also has deep pockets - he would not make the fortune 500, but he could bid earnestly at upscale auctions.

WEAKNESSES:
Nailtooth is merely Human. His power is manifest in affluence, influence, and people he has under his thumb.

SUPPORTING CHARACTERS:

• Tribal Mountebank - Professional killer apparently on Nailtooth's pay.
• Charis - Powered muscle and indentured servant of Oubliette and therefore Nailtooth, raised from a young age as a criminal soldier.

NAME:
Tribal Mountebank

ALIAS:
N/A

SPEECH COLOR:
"Hello there, my newest darling."

ALIGNMENT:
Villain

STATUS:
A professional killer within Oubliette.

IDENTITY:
Tribal is a relative unknown. He is a common fixture of Nailtooth's coterie but nobody has ever been able to positively determine what his exact responsibilities within Oubliette are. It is openly speculated by other members of Oubliette that he's a wetworker, but even within the organization it is uncertain.

PERSONALITY:
Tribal is apparently a sap at heart. He is quiet, polite, and fond of frequent and elaborate romantic gestures. A shameless flirt and apparent lech, he always has a new sweetheart or supposed soul mate every other month that he has swept up into some whirlwind romance - whether they be willing or coerced victums, or otherwise. Regardless of their interest, after a time they are consequently never seen again. An extremely private man except with those he is presently courting, few have any lingering interest in determining what his true demeanor is like, lest they risk vanishing into thin air under mysterious circumstances one day. He does not speak much and always has an easy smirk on his face.

OUTFIT:
Tribal wears an irregular assortment of ordinary civilian attire, usually comprising fine silk shirts and tailored slacks along with a full-length dark coat. Less immediately evident is the full-coverage, articulated ballistic armor he wears underneath his everyday wear.

ORIGIN:

TYPE:
Normal - Unpowered, Baseline Human

SCALE:
City

CAPABILITIES & EQUIPMENT:

• Advanced Ballistic Armor

• Blackout Predator

• Abyssal Mind

• Marksman

• Swordsman

• Pocket Guillotine

ATTRIBUTES:

RESOURCES:
Tribal has implicit access to Oubliette's armories as a member, but his exotic armor and weaponry betray access to a more advanced and sophisticated source of munitions and equipment that he collects at what appear to be prearranged dead-drops. He clearly cannot replace his preferred loadout overnight, but he has otherwise rapid access to replacements.

Weaknesses:
Tribal, behind his next-generation armor, exotic weaponry and honed reflexes, is just a man - and even his armor does not allow him to outright ignore conventional weapons.

Supporting Characters:

• Nailtooth (Neil Macintyre) - The leader of Oubliette, and presumably Tribal's employer.
• Charis - A victim of Oubliette turned powered child soldier and professional muscle for the organization.

NAME:
Charis

ALIAS:
N/A

SPEECH COLOR
"Hey there, Coffin Stuffer."

ALIGNMENT:
Villain

IDENTITY:
Unknown Persona Non Grata. She would be subject to deportation if only anybody knew her country of origin.

PERSONALITY:
Off-work, Charis can nearly approximate a normal, if brusque and abrasive routine and behavior. During work, which she enjoys immensely, her brutality and psychotically perverse indulgence of violence emerges. Having been raised and trained for her current occupation and having no legitimate life to fall back on otherwise, it is no surprise that she has emotionally built herself up in the context of her employment, where she enjoys the most power and personal freedom. In the quiet hours of her free time, when endeavoring to blend in with a society she can never truly join, she can adopt a façade of normalcy - with evident cracks and hints as to her true nature.

OUTFIT:
N/A - Wears a standard unfixed assortment of civilian clothing.

ORIGIN:

SCALE:
City

TYPE:
Kinetic Energy

CAPABILITIES & EQUIPMENT:

• Power: Kinetic Modulation [+]

  Charis can accelerate and decelerate any kinetic force in proximity to herself to a degree proportional to its velocity and current delta V. The higher an affected force's velocity, the greater the effect can be in either direction, and forces already accelerating are easier to accelerate, while forces already decelerating are easier to decelerate.
  
  The range of this ability is effective within a three meter radius of Charis and must be consciously maintained, in addition to being reflex-dependent. A bullet can still hit her just fine if she is not maintaining the field, especially if she is caught unaware. While the field is up however, it can act as a powerful pseudo-shield.
  
  Although Charis can maintain the field indefinitely with concentration, breaks and distractions to her focus will prevent its ongoing use. As a result she often uses it in short, flickering bursts, especially during pitched combat where she often has to pay attention to several other things at once. The field is also uniform in effect - it either accelerates or decelerates everything moving through it, not both. The upper limit of its effect is also completely divorced from the concepts of mass, gravity, inertia, and momentum, meaning objects like falling steel girders, meteors, catapult boulders, and other large, heavy objects are still likely to kill her even after passing through her field. Its effect is most powerful against small objects with relatively low mass, such as bullets. It is most effective against fields of energy with high amounts of directed force but little coherent mass. Naturally, it barely works at all on slowly moving objects, and not at all on stationary objects.
  
  The practical uses of this field include slowing down bullets to less-than-lethal velocities, or accelerating projectiles to give them more stopping power. She can dampen blows in melee combat while increasing the impact of her own, run faster and jump further or higher, fall at feather-speed, and can ruin a Speedster's day by having her entire personal space act as an abrupt tripwire.

• Ballistic Armor

• Bloodmist Pistol

• CollaBo

ATTRIBUTES:

RESOURCES:
Numerous contacts in the criminal underworld, ready access to slush funds and illicit weaponry in Oubliette's armory, with the means to procure exotic weaponry and equipment with time.

Weaknesses: Charis' power does not alter her baseline physiology, leaving her effectively identical to a baseline Human in terms of strength and resilience. Due to never having attended school, she is largely ignorant of a large amount of otherwise everyday, academic information.

SUPPORTING CHARACTERS:

• Nailtooth - The leader of Oubliette, Charis' nominal sort-of employer.
• Tribal Mountebank - A professional killer who possibly works for Nailtooth.

NAME:
Tracy Guiomar

Alias:
The Wailer

SPEECH:
"I do not have the time or nerves for your drama right this second, ok?"

ALIGNMENT:
Unaligned

IDENTITY:
Has been listed as legally dead for more than six years.

PERSONALITY:
Tracy Guiomar is the proverbial man on a mission, if said man was somewhat of a coward and had crippling anxiety. He is most generously described as energetic and vigilant and most accurately described as being twitchy and paranoid. He bluffs frequently and often, and instantly turns into a bootlicker if that fails. In general he behaves as though he has a proverbial Sword of Damocles hanging over him at all times - he does not want to do what he is doing but is compelled by do-or-die circumstances. He is of a dour and melancholy disposition, distant and terse, as well as risk and violence averse. When cornered or believing he has no alternative however, he is capable of the most desperate of actions...

OUTFIT:
Irregular assortment of worn civilian clothing.

ORIGIN:

POWER:
Street => Escalates to City

TYPE:
Resonant Energy

CAPAIBILITES & EQUIPMENT:

• Thespian Education

• The Leaden Spear [+]

  Tracy carries what looks to be an utterly unique, hand-tooled machine pistol. Engraved on its barrel is the designation: 'Leaden Spear Mk. II' . While resembling a conventional machine pistol, it has no slide, ejection port, or safety, and its hammer is nonfunctional and possibly present purely for aesthetic purposes or else to assist with sighting. The pistol fires singularly unique .44 caliber rounds with unconventional integral casing in 12-round magazines. Each bullet houses a hollow chamber with gyroscopic stabilizers and a resonant acoustic emitter. The casing itself, instead of housing solid propellant, appear to be hollow heat-sink chambers lined with traces of nuclear isomers, that is launched from the barrel along with the bullet itself, and how exactly they are fired remains a mystery. Each shot is utterly silent despite the absence of a suppressor, while the rounds themselves are subsonic.
  
  Upon impact with a target, the interior gyroscope in each bullet calibrates the resonance emitter inside of the bullet, which then releases a forward-facing, cone-shaped resonant shockwave of force that degrades the structural cohesion of the impact site. Each bullet uses a seemingly and impossibly intricate combination of gyroscopic force and structural feedback from the deformation of the bullet's shell to precisely calibrate the necessary resonant frequency needed, allowing each bullet to severely weaken and disintegrate various physical substances from concrete, to ballistic vests, chunks of flesh and bone, and even solid titanium in a small radius around the impact site.
  
  The bullet's shell then invariably crumbles and hardens around the acoustic emitter, which lodges inside the target and begins to emit a continuous, resonant frequency specifically attuned to Human nervous tissue and gray matter. In a number of surviving victims shot by one of these bullets where the projectiles were not promptly removed, acute onsets of spongiform encephalitis and necrosis ensued, leading to brain damage, hemorrhaging, and death. This effect manifests irregularly and not at all in certain victims, and possibly correlates in likelihood to the number of bullets lodged inside the body at once. What is consistent between victims however, is the auditory sensation of a wailing, keening shriek akin to physically and mentally crippling tinnitus that wracks the body while a bullet is lodged inside a wound - or even while simply holding a bullet directly in contact with skin. Victims who survive being shot are almost universally shortly crippled and left writhing in agony from the unbearable wailing resonating within their body.
  
  The bullets fired from the pistol are impossibly intricate in design, and have possibly all been hand-crafted - though given how many magazines Tracy carries with him, they either had too much time on their hands or there is an automated machining table churning the stuff out somewhere. Each individual bullet would cost more than $3000 apiece to have custom-made just from the materials used, let alone the impossible hardware built into each bullet shell and casing. Given Tracy himself is evidently a baseline Human, how exactly he got his hands on them is a mystery.

• Conspicuous Duffel

• The Tamper-Proof Case [+]

  The briefcase looks to be made of polished, gleaming chrome. It has no hinges that you can see, both its halves appear to be adhered to each other without any external fixtures. Both halves are smooth with rounded edges, and look to have been molded as single whole pieces. The only evidence they even come apart is a single thin seam separating them bilaterally, with faintly raised edges where the two halves come together. The seam itself is so thin and finely pressed together, it is actually hard to tell it is there. If your attention were not specifically drawn to it by the raised edges on either side of it, it could be easily overlooked.
  
  Set in the middle of one of the halves' sides is what must be the locking mechanism - some kind of round display panel and tactile interface the size of a palm. It displays what looks to you to be a bog-standard RGB color wheel, with extremes around the edges and white towards the center. Right in the middle of the wheel is a raised dial, with a red arrow indicating that it can be twisted along its side, and an inscription of tiny red lettering on the top that says 'Press Me.' A second, smaller display panel the size of a small LED above the color wheel seems to display the current color selected.
  
  On the other side of the case is a small plaque engraved with a message.
  
  

  Hello! I am a tamper-proof case!
  
  I have an equivalent explosive yield of thirty-six (36) kilograms of TNT!
  
  I have no signal compatible hardware, you cannot hack me!
  
  I am hardened against ionizing radiation, you cannot degrade me!
  
  I am water and airtight, you cannot flood me with any liquid or gas!
  
  If you attempt to breach my exterior, I will explode!
  
  If you attempt to insert any object into my seam, I will explode!
  
  If you attempt to interface with my locking mechanism, I will explode!
  
  If you attempt to scan my interior, I will explode!
  
  If my integral thermometer raises or lowers more than a hundred degrees past room temperature, I will explode!
  
  If you drop me on the ground accidentally I will forgive you, but if you drop me from a high place I will explode!
  
  If I am opened by any means without selecting the right color via the locking mechanism, I will explode!
  
  I can only be opened by using the locking mechanism to select the correct color, and pressing the button!
  
  If you press the button with the wrong color selected, I will not explode, but you will still regret it!
  
  Whatever could be inside me? The possibilities are tantalizing! Dream of me when you are sleeping!

• The Wailer's Cry [+]

  Whenever the Tamper-Proof case is taken more than five meters away from Tracy, the surgically installed hardware inside his skull activates. This creates an audible, keening, wailing shriek that perpetually reverberates inside of Tracy's body, growing and crowning in intensity when Tracy is facing in the direction of the case and as he comes back into proximity of it, until he returns within ten meters, at which point the device shuts off. At a distance of more than a kilometer the wailing is barely perceptible to those around Tracy, even though to him it will have all the intensity of an underworld symphonic orchestra. Within a kilometer, the wailing sound becomes drastically more and more audible to those in the area, escalating from the volume of a tornado siren, then an air-raid siren, and eventually becoming acutely painful to listen to.
  
  During this period, Tracy will also be surrounded by a one-meter thick bubble of auditory occlusion, completely muffling and muting most sounds originating from outside the area of effect. The field of sonic occlusion is so powerful is actually slows and retards the passage of physical objects, causing most projectiles and attacks to drastically slow and lose power as they move through it.
  
  Also during this period, by pressing on the metal pad seated in the roof of his mouth Tracy can cause the device to unleash a devastating shockwave of sonic energy in a sphere around him, powerful enough to make concrete and steel disintegrate within a ten meter range and completely repelling and destroying most ordinary physical projectiles, dispersing most gasses, and is even capable of extinguishing fires.
  
  Both the occluding field as well as the shockwave become inactive while Tracy is within a five meter range of the Tamper-Proof Case. The physical toll exacted on Tracy's body by the unceasing sonic resonance coursing through him, the flood with adrenaline and cortisol and the resulting lack of sleep, likely means each instance of the device activating takes a year or more off of Tracy's life expectancy.
  
  If Tracy's vitals flatline for more than five minutes, the device will explode with an equivalent explosive yield of thirty-six kilograms of TNT.

ATTRIBUTES:
WEAKNESSES:
Tracy is a baseline Human whenever within five meters of the Tamper-Proof Case with all the vulnerabilities that entails. When more than five meters away from the Tamper-Proof Case, the occluding field that surrounds him and the sonic shockwave he becomes capable of unleashing make him substantially more dangerous and resilient, but he will still effectively be a baseline Human behind the occluding field. Bladed melee weapons, oxygen deprivation, darkness, and a variety of other approaches will remain effective. Additionally, Tracy is both violence and risk-averse under most circumstances, and if bluffing his way through the opposition does not work he has a tendency to fall back onto begging and bootlicking before resorting to actual conflict.

SUPPORTING CHARACTERS:

• The Technician - The mysterious individual who tortured Tracy, and ostensibly designed and installed the sonic hardware inside of his skull, as well as the Mk. II Leaden Spear.

NAME:
Oubliette

ALIGNMENT:
Villainous

RENOWN:
Known underworld element. Not commonly known of in Civilian circles.

ICONOGRAPHY:
N/A

UNIFORMS:
N/A

AGENDA:
Oubliette is a Human Trafficking Network. Their aims are to obtain, transport, and sell people as prisoners and slaves to anybody with deep enough pockets and few morals. Beyond that they care mostly about establishing territory, asserting influence, and control.

ORIGIN:
Oubliette rose to prominence perhaps twelve years ago when its leader, Neil Macintyre, arrived in Lost Haven and managed to unify the disparate gangs and cliques otherwise relegated to small-scale kidnapping and extortion and smuggling by buying out their leadership. Pulling on criminal contacts from Europe, he was able to establish illicit overseas trade routes that allowed Oubliette to stick its foot in the door and start turning a profit, and making a name for itself as the organization to go to for trafficking of live people in Lost Haven. Even if they have nothing to do with undocumented and missing persons being moved through Lost Haven, they receive a cut and provide logistical support for each deal as a way of maintaining and asserting their control over the market within the city. Since their paltry beginnings, Oubliette has grown into a well-connected and prosperous criminal kingdom within the city.

TYPE RANGE:
Oubliette 'procures' and 'ships' a diverse number of victims, including powered individuals with a wide range of capabilities. Oubliette's meta-range thus encompasses everything save for the Mystical and outright Supernatural.

SCALE:
City

MEMBERSHIP:

• Nailtooth - Founder and leader.
• Charis - Victim of Oubliette, raised as a child soldier to be Oubliette's professional muscle and living model product.
• Tribal Mountebank - A professional killer. More associated directly with Nailtooth than with Oubliette specifically.
• Several hundred various individuals - muscles, bookies, faces, etcetera - living in and around Lost Haven and in odd spots overseas.

INFLUENCE:
Oubliette has a number of useful local connections, including with the local police department as well as the Courts. They know where powerful people live and where their children go to school. They have a number of hitmen and cleaners on standby, dirty cops on their pay, and even have enough clout to have Federal investigations 'recalled and reassigned.' Combined with their dealings with other criminal enterprises, within Lost Haven they are difficult to deal with and root out - and dangerous to cross.

RESOURCES:

• Harborfront Warehouses - Warehouses near shipping and loading areas where the workers and supervisors are on the take.
• Safehouses - More than a dozen secure and discreet sites where Oubliette keeps product, armories, reserve cash, and isolated systems where they manufacture and process forged documents.
• Tenancies - Oubliette owns a sprinkling of entirely legitimate tenancy housing around the city. They use this to house a number of their men, employees, and contractors - and occasionally move product through them as well.

NAME:
Wishing Well

ALIGNMENT:
Villainous

RENOWN:
Obscure Urban Legend/Unheard Of outside of Intelligence Circles

ICONOGRAPHY:
A water well with a noose where the bucket and chain should be.

UNIFORMS:
Non-Newtonian Next-Generation Ballistic Armor with a trim profile. Identifying insignia detailed on the back, breast, and shoulder.

AGENDA:
Wishing Well is an obscure terrorist agency best known for its obscurity. Their agenda is completely unknown. Refer to their Interpol Dossier.

ORIGIN:
Unknown.

TYPE RANGE:
Wishing Well makes predominant use of baseline Humans with a small number of powered assets, though the exact range is unknown.

SCALE:
World

MEMBERSHIP:
Unknown. Interpol speculates there are at least five distinct and active cells of between four and a dozen members each presently.

INFLUENCE:
Little to none. The telltale sign of Wishing Well's influence inside of another agency is a pattern of destructive behavior followed by complete collapse. Interpol speculates they have little interest in asserting control over external agencies.

RESOURCES:
Unknown, although Interpol's analysis indicates they may have sophisticated manufacturing capabilities that enable them to be self-sufficient and resupply themselves with advanced, military hardware regularly.

Wishing Well is a collection of affiliated but independent terrorist cells which are speculated to have been active for approximately twelve years as of this date. They are suspected of perpetrating upwards of hundreds of separate, discrete terror actions inclusive of assassination, asset theft, bombing, communications tampering, false-flag operations, infiltration, kidnapping, sabotage, and numerous lesser disruptive actions across the entire world and all seven continents, including Antarctica (refer to action report 12TA871155).

Wishing Well's ideological cause, nation/s of origin, and approximate membership remain unknown to this day - Wishing Well operatives have been captured alive in the past, but they operate in disparate, clandestine cells that maintain tight and stringent operational security that precludes most efforts to discern their agenda. It is speculated that Wishing Well operates using a three-layered hierarchy. The first being Wishing Well's core members, the only individuals in regular communication with other cells and core members, who ultimately define and direct the organization as a whole and who instruct and delegate tasks to all members in the second layer. The second layer is an intermediate and small collection of Wishing Well's standard operatives, numbering perhaps between four and twelve in each cell, possessing advanced combat training with multiple weapons and martial disciplines and a zealous dedication. These operatives are often given delegated instructions by Wishing Well's core members and expected to accomplish them independently and without explanation beyond simplified success and failure parameters. The third, bottom layer is made up of temporary and disposable muscle usually comprised of local criminal elements, commonly dealt with indirectly by the second layer and unaware of the true nature or identity of their employers.

Due to either the innate flexibility or lack of an ideological core, Wishing Well operatives appear capable of assuming and accurately depicting various faiths, beliefs, and political views when necessary for operational security, without apparent discrimination or particularity except as required by operational security. The aims of their terrorist activities are obscure; they never announce or claim responsibility for any given act, and suspected Wishing Well terrorist actions are also nondiscriminatory and lacking in particularity. They are suspected of having targeted a diversity of other groups of interest including other terrorist agencies, and their true aims are difficult to discern. Their terrorist activities appear to coincide with asset theft that is either involved or adjacent to the activities themselves, and may be theft of convenience or else in furtherance of some obscure design.

To date, the following assets are suspected of having been stolen by Wishing Well, confirmed by way of capture and interrogation of at least one operative involved with each theft. This list is nonexhaustive.

-Industrial-grade nanolathes & extruder components (see action report 12TA84430).
-Multiple NM matrix containment array components (see action report 12TA851129).
-Multiple military and industrial-rated rectenna manifold components (see action report 12TA851163).
-One Naval Destroyer of the UN Peacekeeping Navy (see action report 12TA871155).
-Multiple ansible system components (see action report 12TA89269).
-Multiple ansible encryption & decryption system components (see action report 12TA90749).

As should be apparent, Wishing Well asset theft operations are highly sophisticated and organized, and are usually successfully despite location, number of opposing agents, and presence of security measures. They appear familiar and well-versed in the expeditious and covert transportation of advanced machinery and electronics. During the affairs of 12TA90749, Wishing Well revealed an involved familiarity with UN Peacekeeping Navy protocol and security; the stolen Destroyer assumed a heading that did not match what was reported to satellite-relayed traffic control. Its black-box, emergency transmitters, and asset-denial systems all simultaneously shut-down less than two hours after departure and prior to emergency alerts being raised. The vessel failed to arrive at its expected destination point, vanishing from GPS monitoring after passing through an oceanic storm. Initially thought to have been lost at sea, the Destroyer's removed name plate was later mailed to Interpol HQ in Lyons, France. Considered an unsolved mystery for more than four years, Wishing Well's involvement with the Destroyer's theft was revealed during the enhanced interrogation of a captured operative who expired shortly after revealing they had been personally present at the time.

The various forms of technology and systems assets present amongst the vessel's hardware exceed the breadth of this dossier, but suspected Wishing Well asset theft activity has not appeared to deviate in interest from hardware and systems inclusive of those present in the stolen vessel. This would suggest that Wishing Well may not have been interested in the ship itself, may have a greater need for certain materials than the Destroyer could supply, or that the operation was conducted of convenience rather than necessity. It also suggests that Wishing Well possesses technology, technical knowledge, and expertise that is at least equal to that of the UN Peacekeeping Navy in terms of quality if not quantity.

Specific knowledge of Wishing Well, inclusive of its name, is known of only due to careful dragnet analysis of online forum topics, questioning of known third-layer Wishing Well accomplices, and a single near-successful infiltration attempt of a Wishing Well cell. Despite Wishing Well's clandestine nature, growing awareness of its existence amongst the international intelligence community coupled with frequent contact between Wishing Well operatives and local criminal elements has resulted in the proliferation of their existence as something approaching an underworld urban legend. Few criminal agencies accept or are aware of the existence of Wishing Well, and those that do inevitably have a decided lack of interest beyond possible interference with their own activities. Only the most fanatical of criminal elements, namely other terrorist organizations, commonly afford Wishing Well any serious consideration due in part to Wishing Well's nondiscriminate tendency to attack and disrupt other terrorist organizations. The most coherent and credible digital references to Wishing Well available take the form of black-ops urban legends and myths posted on a variety of niche online forum communities, with little in the way of citation or evidence beyond hearsay, presenting Wishing Well as figurative bogeymen akin to the Illuminati.

Local criminal elements employed by Wishing Well rarely have direct contact with their operatives, though it is not unknown for operatives to co-opt criminal leadership elements or else pose as them, and thus directly interact in a limited capacity with local underworld elements. Commonly, such coopted or suborned criminal elements will be unaware of the true affiliation of such operatives. Analysis into the possible number of criminal agencies that might secretly be controlled by Wishing Well has concluded that their agenda is far too erratic and unstable for such a trend to be likely; most if not all criminal agencies co-opted or suborned by Wishing Well inevitably demonstrate erratic activity inevitably leading to their collapse. Wishing Well has little evident desire to infiltrate and control other organizations in the long term.

Approximately four years ago, an Interpol asset in the form of a young war-orphan was approached by a Wishing Well operative who entered into a mentorship relation with the asset, during which they appeared to be appraising the asset's suitability for recruitment. During this period, the suspected operative divulged a number of surreal oral stories (refer to database entries: International Folklore; Four Thieves, Grave Digger, Wishing Well), and particular lines of questioning as to the asset's beliefs and desires, as well as arranging several confrontational scenarios and encounters without the asset's knowledge. This is all believed to have been part of an elaborate and obscure screening process, which ultimately proved to be effective. The operative abruptly abandoned the asset and attempted to flee the region some time after contact, requiring immediate intervention of discretely arranged assets to intercept. Enhanced chemical-assisted interrogation conducted upon the operative was only marginally successful, as the Operative was revealed to have limited practical knowledge of Wishing Well's agenda. While the locations of several safehouses were extracted, these sites were all abandoned upon investigation.

Although Wishing Well is a small agency, its operations are uniformly destructive and apathetic as to the loss of human life, nearly impossible to anticipate in advance, and difficult to deter or prevent. It is theorized that their limited membership and numbers may permit for an organized dismantling of the organization if it could be successfully infiltrated, but given their irregular recruitment and screening methodology, planting such an infiltrator amongst their ranks will likely prove to be difficult. Suborning or otherwise turning captured operatives may prove to be more effective, although to date such captured parties have proven singularly recalcitrant. . .

Tracy shivered and sniffed wretchedly in his bunk, curled in a fetal ball and with his guts churning like ravenous, spined worms. One of the other passengers had been coming in and out of their cabin and out to the deck, repeatedly and on end approximately every ten minutes - and left the doors open every single time they left, letting frigid ocean wind howl down through corridor and into the cabin. Every single time, the odious woman would slam the door open, splashing thin sheets of water all over the floor, and obliviously begin babbling directly at Tracy about every stray and errant thought that had visited her since she had last terrorized him in her nasally, high-pitched voice, often standing directly by his bunk for several minutes on end to chatter rhetorical diatribes at him even after she had retrieved whatever miscellaneous tool from her pack. Evidently there was a nearby oceanic storm brewing that everyone was studying like it was some undiscovered cryptid. Normally Tracy might have had the nerve to indicate he was trying to sleep, but between his pulsating intestines and the biting cold from the wind blowing into the cabin he could hardly think straight or summon the fortitude needed to protest.

All Tracy wanted was to try and get some sleep, or at least lull himself into a fit of furtive torpor that would allow him to escape the wracking agony of his spasming gut - but time and time again, he hauled himself out of his bunk to shuffle morosely over to the cabin door in order to quietly shut it before haltingly hauling himself back up to his resting place to pursue slumber. It was the middle of the day as well, with thick rays of indifferent sunshine beaming through the cabin porthole, which did not help even remotely. So much for the supposed oceanic storm.

Minutes ticked by. Tracy's breathing began to even out and he began to warm as his body heat pooled within the blankets and banished the cold. His mind began to drift away from his churning stomach and for a half a moment, Tracy thought he might have blissfully dozed off.

The other passenger - whose name he really did not know, something dumb that started with B, maybe Bianca - had thrown open the cabin door again and was now unreasonably shaking at him, causing a new nail of anguish to drive through his abdomen with every light push and obliterating any chance of sleeping yet again as another draft of freezing air rolled into the room.

"Tracy, come on, you've got to come see this! Nearly everyone is out on the deck, it's headed right for us!"

Tracy's eyes dragged themselves across the far wall of the cabin - the porthole was dark. In the span of a minute the sun had vanished.

"I don't really think I should be going out during a storm-" He began.

"No, that's not it. Tracy - there are lights!"

And so Tracy dragged himself out of his bunk and down the hall and onto the deck, where most of the other passengers and a good chunk of the crew ha gathered, leaning near the railings and upper balconies, some with cameras or recording with their phones - as the piercing rays of light beaming out from the roiling thunderheads above drifted across the shifting waves and bobbing hull of the Valknut from above. Tracy blinked in disbelief as he took everything in, and began to process the excited murmurs from around him.

"-aliens!"

"-irst contact-"

"-the sea god!"

"-cient Atlantean ship-"

'Glad to know so many trained scientists still hold onto vestiges of traditional beliefs.' Tracy sardonically thought to himself. His eyes narrowed as he tried to get a good look at the lights above. It was hard to see exactly what they were emitting from, but from the silhouettes and the way they were undulating in their movement made it seem pretty apparent - to him at least - that they were just bog standard high-powered search lights. Maybe they were mounted on helicopters - though the heavy cloud cover above seemed too coherent, and he definitely could not hear any chopper blades.

There was a dull, booming sound, like a distant cannon being fired, and suddenly a massive harpoon shot down from the clouds above, pierced straight down through maybe-Bianca's head and body where she stood next to Tracy, causing ruptured viscera, shattered bone fragments and scraps of ruined, blood-mottled clothing to scatter in every direction. The harpoon pierced straight through her and tore into the deck plating, extending a triad of barbed clamps with a mechanical whine. Tracy fell flat on his rear, front and face splattered with gore as he looked on and upwards in shock - following the length of wound cable linking the harpoon to...something, up above in the clouds. He thought, for a moment, he caught glimpse of a silhouetted outline in the clouds - of something massive.

As he looked up, there was a rapid stutter of muffled explosions, and amidst the terrified screams of passengers and crew reacting to the first fired harpoon, five more descended from the nebulous mist above to spear into the Valknut. One of the more hardened crew-members regained their composure and ran back inside the ship - returning moments later with a fireman's axe even as the whirring sound of motors began to echo down from above. With a heaving grunt and a wide swing, he chopped at one of the cables connecting the giant harpoons to the vehicle above - and was forced to drop it with a panicked cry as a surge of arcing electricity leapt between the cable and the axe-head, before grounding into the deck of the ship - but not before the raw, coursing power that had discharged into the axehead set part of the wooden haft on fire.

Moments later, black rappelling lines descended from the cloud cover, and decidedly Human figures in black fatigues and armor broke through the cloud layer, rapidly trailing down along the lines to land on the Valknut's deck. One of them landed right besides Tracy, still lying prone and in shock on the deck, and was gracious enough to daze Tracy into stunned senselessness by slamming the butt of their rifle into his face.

The dull, muted ringing in Tracy's ears muffled the ensuing deluge of screams and gunfire that followed. Fading in and out of consciousness, all that could occur to Tracy was that somehow, his roiling gut actually felt much better.

---

---

"No, I think you can go tell your boss to fuck himself."

The next thing Tracy knew, he was being hammered in the face by the dealer's grapefruit-sized fist, hard enough to send him stumbling off the pier to fall, flailing, back into the motor-boat he and the others had arrived in. He slammed head-first against one of the raised seats and agonizingly tried to pry himself back up off the floor as the now intimately familiar sound of gunfire started to rattle off back up on the pier itself. A shallow wave of water splashed itself across Tracy's face as a bullet-riddled body tumbled into the water next to the boat, followed by another - and then as he finally began to blink the pinwheeling stars from out of his eyes, the two surviving thugs that had been provided as muscle leapt into the boat and had shoved off, one of them steering and revving the motor to its limit while the other provided desperate covering fire.

All Tracy could do was sit back, drenched in water, his mouth open like a goldfish. He had overplayed his role - he had doubled down when he should have let it stand, and now the deal was ruined and they were two warm bodies short. Tracy blearily cast his gaze towards the two survivors, and realized - with a dread chill stealing across him as he did - that Walker was not with them. He had been one of the bodies falling into the water.

They were going to kill him.

---

---

"You know, Tracy, I have to admit I underestimated you."

Tracy, handcuffed to a metal chair between two thugs and with an IV drip already hooked into his arm nearby, sweat profusely as the speaker shut the bulkhead down behind him as he entered the room.

The other man was on the shorter side - even shorter than Tracy himself - and had a deceptively lanky appearance, with bare arms on display under the rolled-up sleeves of his white jumpsuit that bristled with cords of muscle. He had a mane of dark, slicked-back and spiked hair and a wide soul patch framing his narrow, somewhat bony and angular face. He wore a pair of welding goggles over his eyes even now, but the rictus grin on his face made his mood evident.

"I could have sworn I reminded you every time I've seen you for the last few years that if you slipped up even once, I was going to torture you and then all of your worthless friends and co-workers in front of you and then toss you them all one-by-one into a scrap grinder, followed by you."

The man approached the stainless steel table across from Tracy and set a black tool-case across the surface, unlatching it and popping it open to reveal rows of sharp, pointed implements neatly arrayed in both halves. Reaching down to his toolbelt, the man carelessly unclipped and slid a multitool and a cordless hand-drill across the table as well.

"I wasn't expecting you to actually try and rough it out! I figured you were going to eventually try to break and run! And even after that fiasco at the port, rather than try and make a break for it by diving over the side, you actually came back. Willingly. Knowing what I was going to do to you...or well, the gist of what I was going to do to you..."

The man turned and boosted himself to sit on the tabletop as he finally turned to stare at Tracy through his welding goggles. "You've got an awful lot of nerve for a gutless coward. Of course, now I've got the real measure of you...just as terrified of your own guilt as you are of the idea of me quartering you with a hacksaw. Normally that might be useful. Normally I might think I'd be able to make better use of you..."

Tracy sucked in a nervous breath.

"But in demonstrating that you fucked everything up and also got Walker killed. So I'm gonna try and go for a compromise instead here. I'm going to ruin you, and if you survive..."

With a burst of speed fueled by panic and desperation, Tracy leapt to his feet, swung the back-end of his chair against one of the guard's legs and head-butted the second in the gut, driving the air from the man's lungs and causing him to back up, hunched over and wheezing for air as his friend swore repeatedly and stumbled over, clutching at his legs with a grimace. The IV needle tore from Tracy's arm as he haphazardly started ambling for the bulkhead door leading out of the room.

He came short when the man in the jumpsuit clotheslined him from the side, knocking Tracy down onto the steel hull and then delivering a series of kicks to his gut and across the face for good measure. He then grabbed Tracy by the hair of his scalp and dragged him over to the table, where he raised Tracy's head before slamming it down onto the hard surface. With the entire room oscillating and turning different colors in Tracy's vision, he barely even processed the two thugs regaining their composure and approaching to hold him in place.

"Look what you went and did. Knocked the IV loose. That was how I was going to administer the anesthesia." The man in the jumpsuit tutted as he picked up the hand-drill and experimentally pressed the trigger, eliciting an electrical whine as the drill-bit began to rev and spin. "Now we have to do this the fun way. Protip for you, the more you move, the more this is going to hurt."

The man craned his head to match Tracy's orientation and treated him with another rictus grin as he pressed the drill bit against the side of Tracy's head.

"So feel free to go crazy."

---

---

"Jesus christ. How is he not dead?"

"It looks like they used something to seal the hole they put in his skull."

"Then why the fuck did they not also stitch together the everything they did to his scalp?!? And what the hell is going on in his mouth?"

"Look, I used to be a nurse, this is...this is really bad, but he can recover from this. We need clean, sterilized bandages and maybe some duct tape. I'm honestly more worried about the hole in his mouth. We need actual antibiotics for that or that is going to become inflamed and probably get infected, and that will definitely kill him."

"Alright, got it, so we need sterilized bandages, duct tape, antibiotics, would you also like some gold bullion and flawlessly cut diamonds while we are at it?"

"Calm down, we can...we can probably work something out with the guards..."

"Setting aside the entire issue of that, how long would he need to recover?"

"Well, assuming there's no lasting brain damage that we can't see? Puncture wounds start to heal at around three weeks. Maybe in a few months he might have skin over that spot again..."

---

---

Present Day

Tracy winced as his cell door crashed open and harsh, intense light pierced into his vision, now long-adapted to complete darkness. He did not resist as he was bodily hauled up by two men in black fatigues and dragged out of the small room and through a number of hallways, before eventually being lead into a large interior workshop. Machining tables, lathes, metal-working extruders, and a variety of heavy machinery crowded the workfloor, and in the middle of it all was a somewhat cleared out space where the man in the white jumpsuit had arranged what appeared to be a combination conference table and breakfast nook, with stray, emptied bottles of alchohol, cans of motor oil, half a dozen disarrayed tool-cases and what looked, disconcertingly, like plastic explosives littering the surface.

"Ah, if it isn't that guy! Whatever your name is!" The man in the jumpsuit fired a pair of fingerguns at Tracy nonchalantly. "And how are we feeling this morning?"

Tracy, knowing better than to not answer, tried to summon up a response and ended up hacking out a rasping, heaving series of coughs from his parched throat instead.

"Always good to hear, lot of that going around." The man in the jumpsuit nodded sagely as he pointed to a nearby chair, which Tracy was forcibly seated in by his escorts.

"Now that we've reconfigured the parameters of your wetware into something marginally more useful, and assuming we still have a hard bead on that charmingly archaic guilt complex of yours - we've got a job for you. Catch!" The man picked up a large metallic case from the table and bodily tossed it to Tracy. He feebled raised his arms and just barely managed to grasp at it as it hit him, though it would still have fallen onto the floor if one of the men in fatigues had not steadied it for him. Now clutching the object to his chest, Tracy squinted with his eyes, still adjusting to the light, and took it in.

It appeared to be a briefcase made of polished, gleaming chrome. It had no hinges he could see, both its halves appearing to be adhered to each other without any external fixtures. Both halves were smooth with rounded edges, and looked to have been molded as single whole pieces. The only evidence they even come apart was a single thin seam separating them bilaterally, with faintly raised edges where the two halves came together. The seam itself was so thin and finely pressed together, it was actually hard to tell it was there, especially with his bleary vision. If his attention was not specifically drawn to it by the raised edges on either side, he could easily have overlooked it.

Set in the middle of one of the halves' sides was what must have been the locking mechanism - some kind of round display panel and tactile interface the size of his palm. It displayed what looked to him to be a bog-standard RGB color wheel, with extremes around the edges and white towards the center. Right in the middle of the wheel was a raised dial, with a red arrow indicating that it could be twisted along its side, and an inscription of tiny red lettering on the top that said 'Press Me.' A second, smaller display panel the size of a small LED above the color wheel seemed to display the current color selected.

On the other side of the case was a small plaque engraved with a message.



"You're going to be playing courier for us once again. You will be delivering that to a certain somebody. And hey, good news - no adult supervision this time! We're trusting you to do this all on your lonesome!" The man in the jumpsuit announced with all the countenance of a proud and doting father. "Oh and by the way we will definitely torture and murder all of your worthless associates if you try to run or do something stupid like rat us out. And then we'll probably package and donate their ground-up body parts as meat to homeless shelters and soup kitchens."

Tracy stared blankly at the man in the jumpsuit, who crossed his arms expectantly and looked back. "Well?"

"WhuACK-" Tracy hacked up again. "Whuagh...who am I...delerghering it to?"

"Glad you're onboard. That go-get-em attitude will take you places, whats-yer-name." The man in the jumpsuit smiled. "Listen carefully. Going to have to say this a few times and have you repeat it back to me to make sure you've memorized it."

The man in the jumpsuit cleared his throat, and then spoke. He went on for a moment. Tracy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"...What?" He croaked.

"Geez, KEEP UP will you? I said -" And the man in the jumpsuit repeated the segue, word for word, doubtlessly having memorized it himself. "Now repeat that back to me."

Tracy open and closed his mouth, once. Then, squirming in his seat somewhat and clutching at the case in his lap almost as if for support, he opened his mouth and immediately fell into a coughing fit.

"Not even close." The man in the jumpsuit tutted.

"I could...use some...some water to clear my-" Tracy tried to say. Before he had even finished his sentence, the man in the jumpsuit reached for a half-emptied bottle of vodka and hurled it directly at Tracy's head. Tracy flinched and reflexively lifted the case to block it, with the bottle shattering on impact and the vaguely antiseptic stench of the alchohol spreading through the air as the vokda spilled over the case and him.

"There you go, bet you're feeling better already. Now, this time, I'm going to say that all one phrase at a time and you'll repeat after me, alright? So -" He spoke the first phrase. Tracy halting repeated it back to him. They went on that way until they had reached the end.

"Now repeat all that back to me." The man in the jumpsuit demanded flatly.

Tracy haltingly attempted to comply. He flustering got caught up on the fourth phrase, requiring the man in the jumpsuit to correct him after casually throwing a pair of pliers at his legs - after which Tracy started over, and although he hoarsely stumbled over a few words, he managed to reach the end.

"There we go! Clear as mud I trust! Now of course, since we will be sending you out on your own, we've got a few toys for you, and - well, it's not that we do not trust you not to lose the case - but we absolutely, definitely, completely do not trust you not to lose the case. We actually have a bit of a betting pool going on how long it will take you to lose it, but never fear! We have given you the tools to find it if that happens." The man in the jumpsuit snapped his fingers, and one of Tracy's escorts abruptly yanked the case out of his grasp and tossed it out and along the floor of the workshop. Tracy simply watched with a puzzled look as the case slid across the floor - and then...

Dawning on him like a the gates of hell shuddering open, a keening, piercing wail blossomed within Tracy's head. A resonating shriek, like a banshee with an angle grinder polishing off the edge of one of his femurs while a hurricane filled with nails in the midst of an avalanche descended on them. It was more than simply an unpleasant, undulating sound. It was a hollow, pitted sensation that felt like mites were burrowing into his bones. He could feel his organs individually warbling inside of his chest, could sense his blood curdling in his veins. Without wasting any time, he immediately fell out of the chair and began to dry heave drool and spit onto the floor, wretching up his empty guts repeatedly as his skull and eyes began to throb in response to the unrelenting clamor of the wail that was making his skin itch. A scant instant later, the faint tinge of copper flooded his mouth and a driving, biting pain began to corkscrew through his throat and along his spine while a mountainous, bass rhythm began to ebb in and out of his chest cavity. This, was hell. Even having a power drill taken to his head without anesthesia had been nothing compared to this. There was less raw, concentrated physical pain - instead it was a menagerie of dulled physical suffering distributed across every remote micron of his body and unbearable mental fatigue. He could feel his Heartbeat fluttering erratically in response to the *sound*, jacking up until it was pulsing as fast as a hummingbird beat its wings, adrenaline and cortisol shooting through every vessel in his body like rocket fuel.

Slowly, convinced that the entire world was ending, with the lights in the room seeming to brighten and dim in bursts and surges while his vision rocked and trembled, Tracy raised his head and looked over to where the case had fallen. The man in the jumpsuit crouched over it, beckoning Tracy over like a dog. Fetch!

Dragging himself achingly across the metal floor, with tiny cavities in his teeth and spots in his bones suddenly highlighted and punctuated with fiery clarity by the noise from within, Tracy inched closer and closer to the case - and then...

It took a moment to realize the wailing had stopped. The pain did not vanish. Every cell in his body did not immediately cease throbbing with exquisite anguish. The sound of his cerebrospinal fluid seething and boiling inside of him did not instantly abate. Draping himself across the case, Tracy simply lay still for - minutes? Hours? As he slowly came down from his reality of demented, buzzing static.

After a time, he finally flinched when he heard an audible snapping sound in one of his ears.

"Aha, there we go. Welcome back to naptime." The man said, slapping Tracy across the back - causing him to heave up nothing but mucous and spittle again. "If the case ever gets more than five meters away from you, that will start up. The feedback induction should align itself in the direction of the case and let you know what direction to go in."

Tracy simply stared straight ahead, his entire body shuddering violently.

The man in the jumpsuit let out a sigh of exaggerated exasperation. "Now now." He chided. "What do we say?"

"Wuhlp..." Tracy try, nearly biting off his numbed tongue. He tried again. "..Wuh...why...?"

The man in the jumpsuit laudged, stood up, brushed a stray bit of spittle off of his chest, and then treated Tracy to a healthy kick across the face.

"Because you were sent here just to suffer." He declared cheerfully. He then motioned to the men in fatigues.

"Get him on his way. Give him the duffel on the table and everything in it, it has some old junk I can bear to part with. You know where to drop him off."

---

Tracy stared helplessly as the motor-boat that had dropped him off began to pull away from the pier, leaving him there, dressed in his old, tattered clothes with a suspiciously stained duffelbag and the comparatively gleaming and pristine case.

"If I were you, I would work fast." One of the men in the boat called out. "There's no real deadline, but you still probably only have until he starts running out of patience. Come back here once you're done if you know what's good for everyone involved."

The boat pulled away, and began to head back out to sea.

Tracy turned and, tears streaming down his face, took in the view of the City of Lost Haven.

This was where he would die.

Character you have created: Riley / Devashya

Alias: Voyager

Speech Color (Actually say what you're using): MediumOrchid

Character Alignment: Hero

Identity: Public

Character Personality: Riley's been on Earth for quite some time now. She's not the same naive space alien unaccustomed to the habits and cultures of humanity anymore, having seen both the best humanity had to offer and the absolute worst. She's wiser now, a little more experienced, but despite coming back from the brink with a whole new look, she hasn't changed all that much. Riley's still a quirky weirdo, unusually gifted at improvisation and off-the-wall thinking. Riley's still a total nerd who's into the absolute geekiest aspects of human culture, especially Star Trek. Most of all, Riley's still the same relentless optimist and heroic paragon she's always been, seeing the best in everyone, wanting to make friends before she made enemies, and earnestly believing that no matter what happens and no matter how dark it gets, everyone can be saved.

Uniform/costume:

Riley hasn't come back unchanged. Still visibly alien, on the tall side for normal humans but thin and without a lot of visible muscle mass, Riley has a squidlike appearance, her skin primarily being a seagreen tone with a lighter offwhite color from her lower jaw to her upper chest. Her 'hair' consists of tendrils that resemble layers of hair in a chin-length pixie cut, and is a shade darker then her skin, and the iris' of her wide eyes are a bright shade of red with a thin pupil, including the third eye hidden by her bangs most of the time. Her hands and feet are both webbed with four digits and white on the palms and soles. Her usual wardrobe consists of anything casual and comfy, and since her usual superhero costume got pretty trashed she added a similarly colored deep purple jacket to her heroic attire.

Origin Info/Details: Riley's past is something of a mystery to her, having washed up on a beach in Pacific Point a few years ago with little to no knowledge of her past, outside of vague memories of a shootout on an island. Coming into the care of Jordan Fletcher, a security guard at Poseidon Laboratory, and the esteemed scientist Dr. Alexander J. Martel, Riley found herself thrust into the act of superheroism when the notorious Game Genie launched an assault on her new home, quickly adopting the name Voyager, derived from a science fiction series she rather enjoyed. She's been working out of Pacific Point ever since, eventually joining with the premiere superhero alliance known as the Guardians.

Then something happened that filled in the blanks a little bit; she died.

Sacrificing herself to save Pacific Point from the opening salvo of an alien invasion, an unknown ability that Riley's species possessed activated, regenerating her body and bringing her back to life with an altered look and superpowers derived from the same Psionic energy, but more importantly her memories began to trickle back as well. She remembered regenerating like this before, that the memories of a shootout on an island were from her first life, and she remembered she had a name. Devashya...

Hero Type (Select one): Energy/Psychic (Psionic)
Power Level (Select one below): City
Powers (Be Specific):

Riley's species possesses superhuman abilities derived from their ability to tap into an energy source known as Psionic energy. Described by Dr. Martel as an energy source "existing only partly in the physical world", Psionic energy is poorly understood by humans, with the only other user known being a refugee from the distant future, but it has granted Riley several superhuman abilities, such as-

Psiokinesis: Riley's powers are now telekinetic in nature, her psionics granting her the ability to move objects and matter with the power of her mind. She's able to move and throw heavy objects many times her size as well as manipulate complex objects at a distance. She's also able to fly by using it on herself and can reshape objects as durable as steel if needed.

Psioshield: Riley is protected by a barely visible barrier enveloping her body that can neutralize kinetic energy on contact, dulling fast-moving and hard-hitting objects such as fists and even bullets. The protection only applies to herself, and she can't extend it to other people or objects.

Psijump: Not so much a jump as a short-ranged teleportation that allows Riley to slip in and out of danger and around objects. She can take others with her and travel longer distances with considerable effort.

In addition to Psionics, Riley's alien physiology has also granted her with heightened awareness of her surroundings and her reaction time is on average faster then most humans. Riley's species also has the ability to regenerate fully upon taking fatal damage, altering her appearance and powers in the process.

Attributes (Select one at each category):


Supporting Characters:
Dr. Alexander Martel: An aging but sharp-witted scientist employed by Poseidon who specializes in unusual energy sources. Tends to be the one who provides technical support and equipment to Voyager.
????
????
Sinclair Adams: Riley's fellow Pacific Point superhero and one of her best friends, both of them having cut their teeth as superheroes fighting against the Hounds of Humanity.

(More to come)

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:

Character you have created: Nikolai Ivushkin
Alias: Cryophoenix
Speech Color: "I like pizza and this code is 6ecff6." - Nikolai Ivushkin, 2020
Character Alignment: Lawful Neutral/Walking the Line
Identity: Secret
Character Personality: Nikolai is a clever joker, perhaps best known for his love of memes on history and science. He has many strange interests, and is seen as strange as a result. However, he is also a flaunter of his superior intellect and looks down on those that don't understand in his level, giving him a mixed reputation. Still, he is ostensibly caring and defensive for those he sees as friend or as equals, but other people that are not as close don't receive the same treatment, and may even be seen with contempt if they had assaulted him in the past. While usually chill and likable, he could be prone to fits of drunkenness, which are quite embarassing. He has a mentality of 'anything it takes'; he will not hesitate to destroy someone entirely if they are a proven serial killer. He thus believes that some people are simply unredeemable.
Uniform/costume: None; his transformation suffices to hide his identity. However, when fighting while in human form, he wears a Guy Fawkes mask and a black trench coat.
Origin Info/Details: The child of immigrant parents from the now defunct Soviet Union, Nikolai was born a few minutes before his twin Nikita, making him the older of the two of them. He was the middle child, with his older sister Katarina being born a few good years before he was. His father, Piotr (now called Peter), was a soldier, and he would often be absent due to being assigned in the sand strewn battle fields of the Middle East as well as the broken cities of the now defunct Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. However, an injury forced Piotr to retire from the military; he would then pursue online business, while also allowed him far more time with his twin sons. Thus, Nikolai would be raised in a rather, say, unique way; he was raised to be goal oriented and to have a will of metal; determination and perseverance are some of the things that would define him as he grew up. Nikolai would thus be seen with favour by most of the local neighbourhood. Intelligent, courteous, straight A's: the perfect child in the eyes of many. He had great pride with himself, and rightly so, for he is bound to be of the honor roll of the local high school. It was in his elementary days that he developed his eccentric properties; he sometimes used a cane even though he was not an old man, and always wore black and grey. He was weird, but fascinatingly intelligent. In junior year, he held the position of Editor in Chief of the school paper, which ensured that he knew quite literally everyone in the school.

Days would pass, and then they turned to months and then years. One day, while contemplating about the future, he found himself lowering the temperature of his surroundings; frost and snow had formed on the ground all around him. It was a strange time, too; it wasn't even the winter months yet. There was only one possible outcome, then: he now has the power of the winter. A day after that, he was assaulted with visions of his past lives. The ones that came before told him who he was; the latest incarnation of an ancient wizard of the east that wielded powers of winter and cold. He was, for all its worth, the Cryophoenix; a spirit of unforgiving cold that endures continual cycles of death and rebirth to help defend the world from threats, wherever and whenever they come.

Decades would pass as Nikolai studied medicine in university, and got himself an honor roll in the process. He'd become a medical researcher; an expert in the functions of the human body in the good times and bad. However, every night, the Cryophoenix stalked the cold shadows, seeking out murderers and thieves in a bid to remove the pests of society from existence. Some would be impaled in spikes of ice; some would just be found stuck in ice cuffs right outside the police precinct, ready to be captured. But who could say that the Cryophoenix was a friend of mankind, other than those who know him personally?
Season 1/2 Summary: Nyet
Hero Type: Mystic
Power Level: City Level
Powers:

Cryokinesis/Cryogenesis: Nikolai wields the ability to rapidly reduce the thermal and kinetic energy of objects through a gust of freezing magic that he fires from his hands, or by physical contact. In addition, he forms an anomalous form of ice that he could also control with both thoughts and hand gestures. This anomalous ice, known as Phoenix Frost, is as hard as rock and takes twice as long as normal ice to melt. This ice can be formed in any shape he wishes such as bladed weapons and solid blocks. It seems that only up to a metric ton of the material could exist in any given time; he is able to 'take back' his magical ice back into himself in a mist-like form should he need it elsewhere.

Cryophoenix Transformation: After a lengthy incantation, the phoenix tattoo on Nikolai's wrist glows white and coats him in a flurry of mist and ice, out of which emerges a phoenix that is seemingly made from pure frost. The Cryophoenix possesses a flight speed equal to that of a Peregrine Falcon (186 mph), but in winter conditions, it increases to up to 450 mph. The Cryophoenix is able to maintain its form for up to 30 minutes before needing to return to human form, but it is also able to keep itself in a shrunken state the size of a starling indefinitely. When in Cryophoenix form, the Cryokinetic abilities become wildly imprecise, with the ability to shape ice into definite objects becoming ineffectual. Rather, the Cryophoenix possesses two main avenues of ice based attacks: its icy breath, which rapidly immobilizes and slows down targets upon impact, and the ice 'feathers' that it shoots out of its wings.
Attributes:

Weaknesses: It has been proven that heat based weaponry are the greatest threat to the Cryophoenix, as it literally causes its cryogenic avian form to start melting. In addition, extreme blunt force trauma could break its form. Nikolai Ivushkin himself does not possess superhuman durability, and could be killed with a bullet to the head.
Supporting Characters:
Nikita Ivushkin; his twin brother, who has no powers whatsoever. He works in a tech company and also has a big brain. He knows that his brother is the incarnation of an ancient ice spirit, and is quite proud of it.

Peter Ivushkin and Mary Ivushkin; his parents. They're old retirees, and feel conflicted about how their son freezes criminals every night.

Catherine; his older sister. She doesn't seem to care. But she does. In her own way.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Duh
Sample Post:

Character you have created: Nathan Salazar/Alfred Salazar
Alias: The Horror/Yin Yang
Speech Color: "I don't want this anymore. What is with f7976a anyway?"
Character Alignment: Villain; technically, it's his alter ego that is the villain.
Identity: Secret
Character Personality: Despite being a metahuman of an evil reputation, Nathan Salazar is actually a very caring and kind person. He deeply fears 'the other me', who goes by the moniker of Alfred, which is the name of Nathan's now deceased younger brother. Alfred is an unrepentant sadist, fully enjoying toying with the darkest fears of other people. Nathan's mind is in constant war and flux; most of the time, the battle of mental domination between his warring halves follows the cycle of day and night. At night, Alfred is almost always the one in control, using his powers for personal gain and gleeful suffering, but never murder. At day, Nathan usually manages to retain control over his own mind. However, despite being an evil sadomasochistic villain, Alfred has repeatedly demonstrated an innate desire to keep Nathan and Zach safe, which is just about his only redeemable attribute. Alfred also stays quiet when Zachary is around, and acts like his better half if he's the one talking to him.
Uniform/costume: None needed; he is a shapeshifter.
Origin Info/Details:
Nathan and Alfred were originally a pair of young siblings living in Los Angeles. They were born in a family of metas, with both of their parents being metahumans with power in their own right. Nathan has the power of the sun; his brother had control over shadow and darkness. But they did not know their abilities yet; not until puberty. For the first decade of their lives, they lived in a more or less normal existence; their parents had been quite adamant at keeping their powers hidden unless absolutely needed.

Then they came. One day, a group of armed men, one of whom was also a meta with the ability to disrupt the powers of others, stormed their house in the guise of a drug raid. They took away the two boys and left the parents dead. The house burned; all the press and public would know that a drug raid got very heated rather literally.

Nathan and Alfred, in the meantime, were taken to a secret facility, where they were experimented on like guinea pigs. A serum was injected into them, causing their bodies to be capable of shapeshifting, as well as granting strength and durability beyond human limits.

They were just 12 and 15.

It would continue. Another decade went as they were thrown through experiment after experiment. And it was after all that time that Alfred snapped, and took the chance. When the slimmest opportunity presented itself, he killed the guards by causing one to hallucinate, shooting his comrades before getting his neck snapped. The brothers escaped from the facility, but Alfred died in the attempt. He was gunned down, even as he yelled at his big brother to run.

Assuming a hundred different forms, Nathan would wander the country, eventually ending up in Lost Haven, where there was a rather large concentration of metas. Around this time, his mind, wracked by grief and broken by the whole decade of traumatic experiments, splintered. The other him called himself Alfred… and for some reason, when it's active, he has the powers of his dead brother. Was he possessed?

After a year, he would meet someone; Zachary Bennett. A kindly man just about his age, he was also a meta, one that could hear thoughts and… take pain away. It is through this mutual understanding that they became friends; Nathan couldn't even trust himself anymore. His splintered mind is now part of who he is; this body is not just his own.

Season 1/2 Summary: Nyet
Hero Type: Shapeshifter
Power Level: City
Powers:

Shapeshifting: Nathan and Alfred both possess the ability to change appearance at will. He is able to copy someone's appearance as long as he has seen them, and their voice if he has heard them speak. However, he cannot copy memories or powers.

Enhanced Strength and Durability: Nathan possesses superior strength and durability compared to a normal human, being capable of lifting 100 kilograms without much effort as well as being durable enough to get up from a ten story fall without injury.

Yin: At night, Alfred takes control. This gives the Horror an additional number of abilities, which happen to be the ones that give him his alias:

Umbrakinesis: Alfred unlocks the ability to control shadow, allowing him to envelope his surroundings in pitch black darkness in a radius of 50 meters. He is still able to see on darkness due to having thermal vision.

Hallucination Inducement: Alfred has the ability to induce hallucination in a single person within a short distance, making them see what he wants them to see. It seems that the illusion remains unbroken unless if Alfred's concentration is stopped by a third party, or if he decides to use any of his other abilities.

Timorviventikinesis: Alfred is capable of creating up to 20 creatures out of the fears of non meta people within a two block radius. They are recorded to resemble the fears of people, such as spiders, clowns, large dogs, and their abusive fathers, except for that they have a grotesque appearance, such as gaping wounds and sharp teeth. They are easy to destroy with conventional weapons, but they are easily replaced as long as the people from whose fears they are being created from are within the Horror's range. These creatures are seen to have great physical strength, with humanoid ones being found to have been capable of breaking a man's spine.

Yang: At day, Nathan retains control, giving him a completely different set of abilities.

Heliokinesis: Nathan has the ability to absorb and redirect photons, allowing him to create blinding flashbangs and miniature coronal ejections capable of melting concrete. He can also absorb light to the point of creating a blind spot around himself, though this requires strenuous concentration. It is unreliable without sunlight.

Attributes:

Weaknesses: Sonic weaponry seem to disrupt all of the Horror's abilities due to the rather unique molecular makeup of his body. He is also more suited to terrorizing innocent civilians than duking out with other metas.
Supporting Characters:
Zachary Bennett: Best Friend. Has the ability to relieve pain through physical contact as well as surface level telepathy.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: Duh
Sample Post: uwu

Uniform/costume:
Age: 30
Height: 5'9 - 179cm
Weight: 145 lbs - 65kg
Hair: Long, light blue hair. In previous seasons, it was the length in the art below. Reference for length and colour
Eye: Light Blue



Round face, smooth skin, no visible scars. Doll-like, with the body of a ballet dancer and the muscle to match. One very large notable tattoo is on her back. Her fashion sense is trendy, ever-changing - having both the access and money to do so. She is usually seen wearing dresses, heels, and a full face of makeup.

Background: Born in Paris, France to the perpetually poor occult scientists, Perry and Tristan Favre. An only child. Her parents were avid researchers into the paranormal, supernatural and around the time Odette was born they focused their research into faerie. A field of science that was often disregarded and tragically underfunded. They discovered a naturally occurring entrance into the Faerie Realms, one fateful trip to collect data samples, research material as to have a better understanding of them. Unfortunately, a curious Fey spirit followed them back.

His name is Bach. He took a liking to their young 4-year-old daughter all too quickly. The first time she became aware of the fey spirit following her was seeing him in the autumn; in the Yew leaves falling she caught a pair of eyes watching her. Paying attention and often seeing him out the corner of her eyes they began to interact. In her dreams, he would whisper stories of the fair folk. He remained invisible to all, except Odette. Her parents were unaware and too absorbed in their work to notice.

Enrolled in a dance academy for ballet at the age of 8, what little money her parents could spare and keep their child busy. Odette's heart and career sprouted from those dance classes, harbouring an ambitious streak in her. As she grew older her dancing had helped her into scholarships. At the age of 18, she was graduating high school with a promising education at Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Dance de Paris. Naturally a socially adept young adult but never alone with her secret friend, Bach at her side. While in university, rivalries, friendships and strings of relationships bloomed, tested and developed alongside her newfound connection with magic. During that fateful year of entering university, she made a pact of a lifetime.

Bach had awaited, patiently for years to mentor a new mortal in magic, pass along techniques he himself could not use. He struck a bargain with the teenaged Odette, at the time offering her what she wanted. Open her potential for magic, teach her how to use it as she saw fit, (advancing her career, pull her deeper into the world of the Fey, etc) and ultimately teach her how to open portals into the Faerie Realms. All in exchange for her promise to bring the Fey back to Earth in a significant way. She trusted him implicitly, agreeing to the pact.

The pact tethered their souls together to start and sparked the potential for magic. The details of the contract signed are known only to the pair - such details are rules of consent, protection, and mutual preservation of each other's lives. While their souls are tethered their minds remain separate and their bodies until they decide to work as one. Possession saturates Odette's soul and body with Bach's spirit, allowing her access to a large well of magic, strengthening her body and her mind. Under his tutelage, he taught her everything she knows. Magic wasn't the only thing he taught, he delved deeper into the strange politics of the Fey, languages and culture. Despite her obligation to helping the Fey onto Earth, she did so happily. She travelled in and out of the faerie realms. Garnering favours, gifts and allegiances with the fair folk over several years.

The more time she spent among the Fey her humanity and empathy withered away - she was tested, exposed and absorbed many formative experiences while she worked with the Fey. She was no longer bothered by the destruction the fair folk left in their wake, their capricious and cruel behaviour, and the indifference toward mortals. Her largest gambit for favours was safe passage onto Earth, her neutrality and owing allegiance to no singular Court. She made allies, enemies and worked with faerie across the spectrum.

Slowly, the work Odette did brought Fey in full force to Paris, from the tourist hot spots to the old cobblestone corners. Territories were given, negotiated and maintained by The Ambassador- rightly earning her title. Paris got weirder, the transient and historical energy of the city was now more chaotic than ever. The Fey weren't the only ones causing trouble, a young sorceress needed to practice (typically on street vigilantes). With the amount of chaos she created, it caught the eyes of the influential American gang looking to strengthen their European arm of their organization - The Shroud Syndicate. At the age of 23, local agents approached her offering opportunities to use her abilities. She set a price for her work, she was set primarily on moving people and goods. Providing as well the Syndicate's connection to the world of mysticism and magic. Her criminal actions were nearly impossible to track, her illusionary magic and magical transportation were well outside of Parisian authorities' reach. Due largely to her efforts was The Shroud Syndicate able to take decent root in France at the heart of Paris.

She answered only to the likes of The Cowl and Jacques, her equally mysterious Parisian link to the Syndicate.

The spring months saw her controlled little slice of the world be set against a precipice with a fated crossing of paths with The White Witch and her contractor - known as Puck. Given a prophetical vision of her downfall, it spun her motivations to find ways to prevent it. (See Season 1 Summary for deets). Preserving her power, reputation, gathering more power and haggling with greater figures - The Ambassador diversified in the most literal sense of the word. Carefully guarding her civilian identity, taking comfort in it even when people started to see the cracks in the facade. Busy with her work as the Ambassador, her absence was felt especially in the ballet company.

She contended with the Hounds of Humanity, flirted with thieves, making good and bad deals, working closely with the White Witch, and chasing down clues to reconnect with the Witch's powerful incarnation. All leading to collecting three pieces of an ancient, terrible blade called the Fomorian Blade. A cursed weapon that The Ambassador was tasked to find in exchange for incredibly valuable information from Puck. Hoping to finally clear the uncertainty lying in her future. Collecting one piece of the blade from a Knight of the Autumn Court, in the weeks prior to the terrible alien invasion - she had collected two pieces. Setting her sights on the last one, she travelled to a faraway realm to retrieve the last piece... Remained trapped there for three of her own years. Without allies or enemies, she was forced to start from scratch not only to retrieve the final piece of the blade but to get home.

Upon returning home to Paris, 15 months after an invasion... The Ambassador is once again forced to start from scratch. Her civilian mask up in flames, a lengthy career as a ballet dancer and parts of her city burned. How can the Ambassador of the Fair Folk reestablish herself when the world she revelled in had moved on? Begun to rebuild without her?

It clearly wasn't within her nature to simply not retake a stage.

The Ambassador first made her entrance into CAH’S Season 1 near the tail end, joining Fallenreaper's Natural Selection Arc - an arc focusing on conspiring to kidnap Racheli Desdemona into The Shroud Syndicate’s hands, the international crime organization hoping to gain a better understanding of her strange black blood and it’s applications of making metahuman soldiers. The Ambassador played a large role with a generous helping hand from the newly employed fellow Syndicate member, Silence - Lekh Antol.

Silence discreetly infiltrated Lost Haven’s CDC swiping Racheli’s unconscious form out from under their noses bringing her to a seemingly safe and inconspicuous location to trade her off into the hands of The Ambassador, whom was waiting with a portal to quickly transport her to The Syndicate’s hands at Lost Haven’s local Ironworks facility.

Unlikely heroes and persons of interest looking to disrupt that trade off, targeted this hand off location - an underpass outside of Lost Haven. The White Witch’s friend and fellow witch Joseph was first drawn to the kidnapping by the influx of magic in the area, Racheli’s allies Icarus and Hydro followed suspicions on the compromised moving of patients.

The Ambassador and Silence were initially distracted trying to reign in disorientated Racheli while the heroes dodged past traps and wards set by The Ambassador. The pair of criminals fought on all three fronts with the terrifying help of The Ambassador’s ally - The Archon of the Old Earth. The Archon was defeated by Joseph with the help of a ring made of iron, poisoning the beastly faerie. Shortly thereafter Joseph found himself in one of her traps to be rescued by the late arrival of White Witch.

While Silence subdued Racheli and Hydro with his powerful aura.

The Ambassador and Silence escaped through a portal, chased by White Witch’s mysterious spiritual fire and Joseph’s magical efforts. They found safety in the Faerie Realms with a newly knocked out Racheli in tow.

There The Ambassador took over Racheli’s care, parting Silence with a mysterious gift in thanks for his help in securing the kidnapping. He walked through a portal back to wherever he found himself and The Ambassador brought Racheli through to Ironworks.

There in the interim, the heroes regrouped with Joseph while White Witch left to return to the fight with Doctor Diplodoc. They recruited the help of green thumb hero, Evergreen. Icarus, Evergreen and Joseph stormed Ironworks with their fantastic powers fighting for Racheli and turn the tide at the final hand off.

Meanwhile The Ambassador struggled to reign a no longer cripplingly weakened Racheli. In an escape attempt The Ambassador reeled her in - in time for The Cowl’s personal arrival. He locked her into a metahuman proofed cage and kept her hot in the frying pan unable to regain her powers as extreme heat was and remains one of her greatest weaknesses. The Ambassador took on Joseph personally, leading her away from Racheli to the warehouses. Joseph summoned a terrible familiar to fight for him. The Ambassador used faerie helpers to snatch the object binding Joseph’s beast to their realm and destroyed it. Joseph’s summoned spirit, unshackled, turned on it’s summoner and killed him. With his death the summon disappeared.

The Ambassador turned her sights next on the arrival of Icarus. Attempting to trick and dismantle his suit, he unleashed his experimental functions. The Ambassador formed with her faerie pact partner, Bach to dredge up more magic to stand a chance - having exhausted her reserves for the already active day they had.

They fought and using iron based weapons, Icarus was able to beat back The Ambassador into fleeing the scene. Icarus scooped up Racheli in the chaos escaping with her safely. Leaving the Cowl empty handed with his facilities destroyed.

Signaling the end of Season 1, The Shroud Syndicate and The Ambassador slipped back into the shadows.

Season 2 began a few short months later, The Ambassador was actively looking for Racheli’s location - begrudging her failure to seal the deal. In a flashback of the night at Ironworks - Puck the owner of the Red Devil and contract keeper of Joseph Mathers approached the wounded Faerie Mistress. He bitterly commended her for defeating his longtime friend and offered a gift as a reward. Cautiously accepting, he gave The Ambassador a prophecy detailing her rise and fall. Struck with unease for months, it inspired fear and motivation to uncover the mysterious meanings in Puck’s foresight.

"Very well . . . You, my dear, are as the Earth, a powerful force, one of beauty, strength, and resolve. You are forever changing, forever overcoming obstacles, forever evolving. And when the elements, the very forces of nature over whom you have unbridled authority, conspire against you, you adapt in amazing ways. When your womb is scorched and dried, you do not become infertile; when your wells run dry, you release the gates of heaven and bring down her floods; when your limbs are scattered by the winds, they grow anew and become mountains tall. You will always adapt, always overcome your creation . . . but when a mother hurts her child, she may never regain their trust. And you, even as the Earth, can be hurt by her children in the most creative ways."

"But do not be fooled, your children are not the only ones who reside in your domain. Their stands upon your plains a being ancient, much like yourself, who comes in the guise of a friend. She is a fire that burns brighter than your own hearth, one that can level forests and leave nothing in their wake, and she is angry. Her spirit burns even now, but once she reaches her potential, once she devours the flame of humanity, she will be unstoppable. And the question isn't whether you will be burned, but if you shall reemerge from the ashes."

-fdeviant

While her investigations carried on in the background Odette travelled to New York with the ballet company. Needing to rely on more than her faerie help, she reconnected with Silence hiring him to dig for more information on Racheli, in return she would answer any questions he had for her.

During her time in New York, the White Witch reached out to the likes of The Broker searching for clues on the spiritual connection to her past self. In exchange for information, White Witch bound hundreds of souls of the dead into a soul stone. The Soul Stone became the first of few items of Solomon’s Cube, a powerful necromantic tool The Broker was bent on gathering. The creation of the soul stone affected all characters with magical sensitivity currently in New York at that time.

He later approached The Ambassador for her help in finding another piece of Solomon’s Cube, in exchange for a Big Favour. Pointing her sights upon Queen Titania in England. The Faerie Queen of the Summer Courts was consolidating her power after the terrible blow her court suffered at the hands of Hell a couple centuries ago.

While The Ambassador was visiting in New York she happened across the mercury golem, the Indomitable Enforcer of the Divine Mandate. Approaching the strange sight of an 8ft golem in the middle of Central Park, Odette was initially curious of the construct, approaching Mandate directly. Able to capture Mandate’s attention positively and hold a conversation, Odette enticed Mandate into joining her in the relative safety of Paris. Odette introduced Mandate to a reliable little goblin named Mara, hiring her to keep the golem company and out of trouble while Odette finished her trip in New York. Mandate showed unprecedented intelligence with speech, self-awareness and ultimately strength in resisting magic. Their afternoon spent in Paris came to a close but Odette successfully planted the seeds of friendship and held Mandate’s fickle interest. Odette quickly crafted a disguise for Mandate, hiding her true appearance by way of illusion.

In her spare time, she met with the ever-paranoid criminal - Silence, in person. Sealing a deal over coffee. Tension began to brew between the two with the unasked question of a Soul Mark left on Silence, the mysterious gift in the form of an emergency direct line to The Ambassador. It’s true properties a secret to Lekh Antol. The deal guaranteed an exchange of information once the job was complete. During the job, the opportunity to release the metahuman serial killer Michael Garth from a government controlled facility came up, on Odette’s order Silence broke in and pointed Michael Garth to Lost Haven and his daughter. Odette sent a ‘courier’ in the form of a goblin to pick up the reports from Silence, the goblin teleported directly to Silence. The capricious nature of the faerie help revealed Odette knowing his precise location without any other indication.

When Odette returned to Paris reuniting with Mandate, Racheli’s whereabouts broke local news with a large fight between metahumans Equilibrium, War-Pulse, Evergreen, and Racheli herself. The Cowl, behind scenes, making his own play at recapturing her. While she waited on news of the job from Silence, The Ambassador turned her focus on unravelling the meaning behind Puck’s Prophecy.

She travelled to the underwater world of Ville d’Ys with Mandate acting - under a mutual agreement - as Odette’s dedicated bodyguard. Meeting with longtime ally, Princess Lassantra. Meaning to divine connections and clues of the White Witch, after reasonable deliberation examining the contents of the prophecy. The spectral burn from White Witch still quite fresh in their memories. She followed a hunch.

Lassantra's Oracle revealed to Odette the nine items containing pieces of Gwyneth Owen’s soul and her connection to White Witch. Coming to the conclusion that once Gwyneth Owens came to power once again, she would surely meet her end at the witch’s hands. Divining the names of all the items; Gwyneth’s Eye, Sight, Might, Right Hand, Left Hand, Womb, Mind, Breath, and Heart and the location of Sight and Eye. The Ambassador was armed and ready to hop on the witch’s trail. Determining to gain leverage against the White Witch by scooping up Sight.

The meeting proved to be successful but not without tension created by the Princess, alluding and attempting to pry into The Ambassador’s personal life in which the Princess lamented being coldly excluded from. Perceived as a power play, The Ambassador pushed back against her faerie ally. Mandate used her brute strength to intimidate the watery fey into submission. It proved The Ambassador could trust Mandate’s judgement.

Together they moved onto England to meet with Queen Titania, bitter and barbed words were exchanged. Titania unable to hide her resentment toward mortals and The Ambassador’s recent meeting with a Prince of Hell. While The Ambassador found success in rooting out the whereabouts of the next piece of Solomon’s Cube it was not without hidden costs. The barrier protecting Stonehenge and the ancient bit of technology buried there was a pocket of power Queen Titania happily tapped into returning to her glorious status. Titania visited a prophecy of her own upon The Ambassador, much to her growing distaste of prophetic and unclear glimpses into the future.

“When the foundation shakes. When the world breaks, when the scream catches in your throat, and the demon rises. When smoke chokes the living, and the sky boils. When thorns turn to blades, when one realm becomes many, and many realms become but one. When you hold silence in your hand, kill it and scream your anguish for the world to hear. This is the promise you make to me, and all of faerie. When it becomes all-encompassing when nothing can breathe underneath it. You must end the Silence."

-Hellis

Once Stonehenge was released under the cover of night, a great Stone Guardian controlled by Herne the Hunter came to protect Stonehenge from the intruders. Mandate faced the stone guardian - protecting The Ambassador. The Ambassador formed with Bach to dig deep into the center of Stonehenge. She disappeared underground retrieving the piece of Solomon’s Cube. They tried their best to return Stonehenge to its original form after the destructive fight, but those well versed in magic would know of the disturbance there.

Returning to Paris to rest, Odette reviewed the notes delivered while she was away. Vienna told Odette of the goblin not collecting incentive (an extra loaf of fresh bread) to do the couriering job correctly. The Ambassador knew the goblin showed Odette’s hand to Silence. They met again in person for payment in a hotel room. After skirting the inevitable question Odette revealed the true properties of the Soul Mark she left on Lekh, namely, its passive side effect of knowing his exact location without his consent. Angry he lashed out at her forcing her to sever the connection but not before demonstrating what it could do. The Ambassador dived into the psychic storm that Silence held within him before cutting the Soul Mark away.

He demanded if they were to continue working together it would need to be on equal ground. Reluctantly agreeing he asked one more question looking to find some magical healing items. She revealed that Barron in Las Vegas held a considerably large store of magical artifacts, no doubt having some healing items Lekh was interested in finding. She warned him of Barron’s vampiric gang presence and how it directly opposed The Shroud Syndicate. They agreed with The Ambassador’s help to raid Barron’s warehouse while striking back on behalf of The Shroud Syndicate.

Las Vegas was also where The Ambassador would find Gwyneth’s Sight.

Silence, Mandate and The Ambassador attacked Barron’s gangsters in Lost Haven’s borders. They were able to collect information on which warehouses in Las Vegas belonged to the Barron. The Ambassador and Mandate put up a brutal fight, Silence interrogated the gangsters mercifully killing them. Ultimately sending a message. The violence on par with the raging gang wars erupting across Lost Haven.

They travelled separately to Las Vegas, meeting up there to move forward with the Heist. They attacked a warehouse, Mandate acting as a major distraction. Both Silence and The Ambassador were met with Barron’s defences in a mixture of metahumans, vampires and a golemancer. The Ambassador suffered some injuries at the hands of the golems and a vampire. Silence took a bullet to the gut. The Ambassador sent Bach ahead to find what they were there for while she sought Silence out. She found him and with some sorcery removed the bullet, patching him up with first aid. Odette was reaching her magical limits for the final stretch of the Heist. Together they met with Bach stealing Unicorn horns, Golden Fleece and Dragon’s Teeth. Having ingredients to make a cure-all potion. Silence still quite cagey about why he needed a powerful healing potion.

After dealing with Mandate’s assailants they escaped with their stolen items leaving the warehouse in complete disarray.

Silence returned to Lost Haven with the promise Odette would provide the completed potion. She rested and healed in a Shroud Syndicate safehouse overnight.

Barron reeled from the Heist, tapping his ally - the Witch-Mother Hekate to investigate the warehouses. She came to have a strange item in their inventory local fey reported to Hekate of The Ambassador’s presence in the city. The residual faerie magic in the warehouse turned Hekate onto the sorceress.

In a post time-stamped in the IC future, they met at the docks on the morning of Silence’s departure back home to Poland. Odette presented the completed potion to Silence where he revealed the potion was for his younger sister, revealing that his power was hereditary. For his younger sister, the Antol’s aura turned inward instead of outward, crippling her mind. During his time in Lost Haven, he stole significant amounts of money from The Shroud Syndicate to fund medicinal research, with no results. Forcing the practical criminal to turn to miracles. The only hope they held for the potion working was some brief testing prior to delivery. When the pass-off was completed Lekh went onto confessing he had feelings for Odette, surprising the sorceress. In an emotional wave, she kissed Lekh neither confirming nor denying her own feelings saying goodbye.

Back in Las Vegas, The Ambassador was back refocusing her efforts into finding Gwyneth’s Sight. Mandate and The Ambassador searched all over the city, location spells failing multiple times. It was not until arriving at Hoover Dam was Odette spirited away by Hekate herself along with her friend Medea.

Hekate put her on the spot accusing her of being responsible for the warehouse mess, not taking it in stride if it was an attack levelled to threaten the likes of her and Barron. Clarifying it was a one time deal, The Ambassador stressed she was not targeting Barron directly just his stuff. Reaffirming there was no bad blood between the fey and witches. Accepting her apology Hekate gave The Ambassador the mysterious gift that found its way into their inventory. Promising it would give her insight. To Odette’s delight, Hekate handed her Gwyneth’s Sight.

While The Ambassador was working in Las Vegas, Marie the White Witch was gathering her own resources to come to Las Vegas towing the magic nosed werewolf Benjamin Reeves and his pack members. His pack members and close friends included the twin werewolves Ji and Yeong, Katarina the vampire and joined to help twin metahuman giants The Dover Twins Ben and Freya, and the drunken sorcerer Rune.

The Ambassador and Mandate arrived back at their hotel in time to see the evening breaking news. The Hounds of Humanity made their move. Particularly on an establishment in Vegas, Pixy Stix. The Ambassador rushed to the destructive scene, enraged by the attack. The city was not hers but on that night she appeared before the distraught fae and promptly struck a hatchet in the post. Publically to the magical community making her presence known. Elsewhere, sacred grounds, covens of witches, and other public establishments catering to metahumans and magic alike were burned and the earth salted. One such place was the border crossing of Earth and Alfheim. The tree connecting both realms was bombed to oblivion. Enraging the King Neuvean Winterborn, declaring war against mortals of Midgard, meaning to mobilize an army but not without the means to cross into Midgard to stage his war. His focus fell on the Ambassador.

Upon returning to the hotel, The Ambassador began to study and attempt to open the little trunk that was Gwyneth’s Sight. While Racheli’s goings-on were on the backburner, The Ambassador was inspired by the recent string of success she found in diversifying her allies. She wanted a hard counter to Racheli’s growing abilities in manipulating metals, knowing full well what her weakness was. Odette reached out to her contact in the Syndicate, Jacque, to find a suitable mercenary metahuman she could hire. Jacque on her behalf reached out to the up-and-coming fire metahuman, Forge planning a meeting.

The Ambassador worked to unravel the wards protecting Gwyneth’s Sight, when she successfully did so the soul of the old witch pulled Odette’s mind into the item. There she met Gwyneth Owens, surrounded in an expansive illusionary world that captured The Ambassador’s imagination. Outside in the waking world, Bach’s temper flared snapping at Mandate, they were until then on uncertain terms of tolerance but Mandate focused her ire and worry on Odette.

Gwyneth approached, initially hostile. They spoke, amicably finding common ground by name dropping Hekate. The Ambassador was able to convince the isolated witch to sit down to negotiate. The Ambassador offered Gwyneth a glimpse of the new world by providing some news, answering questions, etc. Carefully treading how Odette came to know of White Witch and Gwyneth. She invited the Ambassador inside her cottage where she went into detail regarding her life. Helping Odette understand her deep distrust of mortals and the betrayals she suffered 600 years ago. How her items worked and wanting to return to her former power. Even throwing in some interesting facts about the Witch-Father Bucca and Puck are brothers being apart of the five Pwca. They negotiated a contract of mutual peace, neither would bring harm to the other nor their interests. The contract guaranteed no betrayal could occur. It also solidified a deal for an alliance to start by helping Gwyneth’s incarnation find the remaining items. With a little side of challenge, giving Odette permission to hold her own trials against White Witch in the spirit of testing her mettle. Happily, Odette agreed to that condition. Begrudgingly, in order to seal it officially, Gwyneth asked for Puck to write the contract on her behalf and sign as well - Puck also owning a contract with White Witch he was able to make agreements in her stead. Departing on amicable means gifting Odette the similar ability to sense the closeness, Odette returned dictating everything that happened. Together Bach and Odette summoned Puck.

The Ambassador went into the meeting full of smug victory. She believed she had solved the puzzle that was his original prophecy and successfully diverting it. Puck was indeed surprised to be called upon by the likes of The Ambassador. She expressed the need to draw up a contract on behalf of White Witch and Gwyneth. Piquing his interest, being quite aware of White Witch’s quest. A little tension created from The Ambassador incorrectly believing he was still angry from their clashing over Joseph Mather’s body months ago. Puck admitted he was interested in seeing how things panned out and agreed to write the contract on a condition of his own. He wanted all she learned of Gwyneth, and to give her his revised prophecy now that he felt his foresight cleared some.

Angry and unhappy, Odette did not want to revisit the prophecy, the puzzle she thought she solved. Angry that he was changing the rules. She weighed the options, Puck was the only one who could write and seal the contract to forge their alliance. If it meant gaining a powerful witch as an ally over losing some sleep. Odette decided to make the deal.

”Sight . . . such woeful irony. The witch’s gift is yours to claim, a boon greater than you know, and yet one that will fail you time and again. Burned by witch’s fire, you stand ready in the garden to accept your paradise, not risen, but changed, changed as the cunning fire changes all. But even though the apple falls in your lap and the giantess gives her blessing, a serpent sneaks into your Eden and wraps itself round the Tree of Life. But this serpent does not tempt, no . . he hungers.

When the veil was formed by the Spirit of Old, when the stars fell and soaked the Earth in their blood, he was among them, thirsting for new life. He whispers to you in sorrowful sleep, invites you into his bed. He does not turn you from salvation, that is not his aim. Indeed, ‘tis not holy waters which will save you from his torment, but cunning fire, the spark of a world long forgotten. Be swift, young Eve. Be not consumed by his lust, but ravaged by a flame that was. And the question is not whether you will be burned, but whether you will rise from the ashes . . . or will he?”

-fdeviant

Shaken by the new prophecy she asked a peculiar question of Puck, if he truly believed in the stories of creation. Leading into a softer exchange reiterating that the spirit of Joseph Mathers and Puck did not hold The Ambassador in resentment. He disappeared leaving quietly. Reigning in her emotions she began to analyze the prophecy with Mandate’s help and unique perspective, finding comfort in Mandate’s company.

Hatching a new plan and finally approaching the White Witch. But not without setting her first trial and covering for an unpredictable outcome of such a meeting. The Ambassador sought the White Witch out and unknowingly the circle of friends that accompanied her to Las Vegas. The Ambassador found them at a grocery store starting a tense standoff Marie and a few other members of the pack immediately hostile at their appearance. It didn’t do well either that The Ambassador brought with her a legion of faerie to support her. Smugly, she revealed all she knew and threatened to destroy Gwyneth’s Sight if White Witch did not cooperate, convincing White Witch if she did not accept The Ambassador’s help she would turn her quest into an utter disaster. With the item being threatened and begrudging acceptance of her certain powers, Marie accepted The Ambassador’s offer much to the surprise of her friends. Their meeting was interrupted by the arrival of The Hounds of Humanity towing dangerous weapons like blessed silver bullets. Led by the notoriously efficient mercenary, Captain Dahl. She led the charge, answering to the Witchfinder-General.

The two sides clashed, sustaining injuries. The Ambassador saw the tide turn and crafted their escape. The White Witch was poisoned by the blessed silver and The Ambassador was shot in the shoulder after the portal was created, magic was unable to penetrate the bullet to remove it. Mandate shielded her against the worst of the attack, the bullets affecting her as well. The werewolves were riddled with bullets and same with Katarina. They all fought and escaped through the portal arriving to the quiet of the Hoover Dam.

Bach was able, with some first aid to remove the bullet from The Ambassador’s arm. She gloated her proof of strength and felt they all owed her their lives. Many of them disagreed. Passing the White Witch a means of a phone and direct line to Odette, Odette made their departure of Las Vegas to rest at home in Paris. Not before holding Marie’s friends accountable for her safety while they were apart and giving Marie the little trunk that held Sight.

Shortly before this fight was completed, there was the Christmas arc in which The Ambassador and Mandate celebrated Christmas together with Odette’s parents. A sweet and light-hearted divergence set in Christmas of the future.

The Ambassador caught up in IC in time for the Satellite Attack that levelled three cities at the hands of The Hounds of Humanity. She received some much-needed healing from Vienna, a chance to catch her breath mulling over the events. When she was returned to form, alone she opened a portal to meet with Forge, offer the mercenary work.

When she arrived it was with warm hospitality, food and drink readily available. Her fellow Frenchwoman having gone to lengths to provide a good foot forward. Forge shared ambitious interests and reduced working rates for dealing with the Hounds of Humanity. The Ambassador appealed to that easily, the job being to focus on destroying their silver bullet production facilities. Forge tried to remain cool and professional, reeling from expectations. The Ambassador showed Forge a glittering sight of Faerie, elemental sprites flowing in around them. Helping to prove magic was true, real. Revealing what she was The Ambassador of.

Successfully hiring Forge, The Ambassador currently waits for her first reports.

Spending two days attending to her own affairs Odette returned to ballet after a long stint of ‘sick’ days. Slated to dance Helena in the production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Madame Renavand pulled her away from her morning warms up to speak in private. Madame Renavand bluntly told Odette she was to be pulled from the production, citing her string of bad health as a concern. Noting how little she knew of Odette as a person, concerning the string of sick days as of late were due to something else. She implored Odette to be honest.

Odette did just that.

She was honest about her involvement with crime and with magic. Madame Renavand immediately did not believe her, becoming agitated. When she was about to leave the office, Odette caught her briefly explaining how important ballet was as her sanctuary. She changed her memories with magic, things going back to normal.

The next day, Odette was on typical business, as usual, treating with the Lioness at Sculpture garden of Musée Rodin. Sylphs sent the Ambassador to broker an agreement on their behalf, The Lioness egged The Ambassador on, being free of owing The Ambassador anything - simply a native to Paris far longer than the Ambassador had been alive. Owing her nothing. Successfully cutting the deal to meet on neutral ground, The Lioness was fed.

Leaving behind the Lioness, Bach and Odette stopped at a local cafe to speak. Odette cleared the air of her true goals, Bach agreed to be less argumentative in her decisions.

The following day Odette contacted the White Witch, ready to continue on their quest for more of her items. The conversation over the phone was brief, Marie informed Odette she had split from her friends to Odette’s delight, clearly pleased that Marie was listening to her. When they met after Odette reached her through a portal, Marie explained what she had been up to since Vegas. She elaborated that she had worked with STRIKE during the Paxmethumana crisis, fighting against the likes of the Silver Sorceress. After their defeat, especially after Silver Sorceress’s defeat at Marie’s hand. When Silver Sorceress broke away from prison with Doctor Diplodoc the sorceress came to visit revenge. Marie being subjected to painful illusions satisfying Silver Sorceress’ thirst for revenge. Awakening a reminder of who she was as a witch.

Marie had a slew of questions for Odette, but Odette remained cagey and vague. Not interested in revealing everything. She gave her a hint, revealing that Gwyneth’s items housed pieces of her soul. Proving to The Ambassador that Marie really had a very scarce understanding of Gwyneth. They tried to figure out where to go next, neither receiving a feeling or hint of where the next item may be. Odette suggested Marie use the runic divination tools that Sight turned out to be. Through some puzzling and Bach’s helpful hand in understanding various languages they were able to decipher what the message from Sight could be. Connecting memories of the Bucca from Gwyneth’s past and Marie’s as well. They both simultaneously experienced a vision of the item, Mind being revealed and a hint to it’s location. The book given to her when her certain powers were awakened as a child by the Bucca was being kept at her parent’s home in Massachusetts.

[---SUMMARY UP TO DATE AS OF IC PAGE 37.......Only 13 more IC pages to summarize, oof]

-1 Month Prior to the Lost Haven Riots-

The skyline in Paris was marvelled by millions as the sunset again for the day. For native Parisians, it was a sign of comfort and signalled the beginning of its active nightlife. Coffee shops and restaurants lit up in response to the fading light. Along the cobblestoned streets in the old quarter, where everyday business owners raised the price of a cup of coffee to gouge locals and tourists alike.

A young woman with bright blue hair, eyes and bright pink lips sat outside one of these restaurants perched on the edge of her seat seemingly invested in the newspaper she had opened in front of her. Any regular onlooker would assume she was a high fashion debutant, more concerned with Fashion week than with current events. Who was paying for her expensive choices? A pair of rich parents or was she acting the part of a trophy wife. They were half right. The wars of man and its tragedies hardly caught her attention. The plea of refugees, war crimes and disease could not and would not move her to even care let alone react appropriately.

Assumptions from strangers did not register nor did they matter, not to her. However, her attentions were on avidly listening to the small sprites whispering in her ear, invisible to everyone untouched by the Fey. They were giving her updates to where her next pick up would be found. Rising with the grace and dignity disciplined with years of ballet. Tonight when the sun dipped below the horizon she would take a quick walk then a taxi ride to the edge of the city.

When she met with her clients, they were unnerved but polite greeting the woman. They spoke English with distinct American accents.

"Madame Ambassador." A tall scruffy gentleman in an ill-fitted suit greeted her.

Smiling gently in hopes to ease their apparent fear, "Bonsoir, gentlemen."

They bowed their heads in respect; already she knew they were warned aptly of her expectations.

"Where are we heading to tonight?"

"Back to the states, ma'am. The Cowl is calling in his agents to start something big in Lost Haven." The tall man replied.

She nodded acknowledging his reply then said quietly, "The Cowl always has his plans. There is no time like the present so we shall depart shortly, sirs. I must warn and you must listen to what it is I am about to tell you."

They nodded in unison.

"You will be departing Earth as we know it and entering realms of true danger. While you are with me there is considerable protection. I have successfully escorted men and goods through these realms multiple times. But do not mistake me when I say you are not safe."

The men exchanged a look of fear as the young woman turned her back lifting her hands up to the sky already at work searching for her doorway. Her hands glowed with a misty blue while rapid-fire French called for invocation. Light split in front of her blinding the men. A ragged strip of space opened in front of them as power flowed out of the arcane stream. The power flowed through her as a door took shape.

Immense concentration furrowed her brow while the final touches of the door formed.

"Now, gentlemen. We are ready. Follow me and stick close. Do not touch, do not linger and most importantly do not fear. For the Fey, they know and will surely descend upon you. There is little I can do to stop the dark Fey from devouring your very souls when they catch a strong scent of fear. I only hope for your sakes that it is a quick death."

Showing a toothy smile she opened the door with vigour, "Come, Lost Haven awaits us."