[CHAR] Shadow Smiles

[Redward]

Maya

Name: Maya K. Wyrick

Age: Thirty four.

Human Appearance: Rarely seen outside her S.C.A.R.E armor, the woman beneath is almost as intimidating without as she is within. Sharp blue eyes and a near-permanent slight scowl surround a small but sloped nose, flanked by somewhat high cheekbones; sitting above a somewhat pointed chin. Her eyebrows are kempt, but naturally thick, and her short-cut coffee-colored hair is much the same. She does not impart a sense of femininity, given her general lack of curves and small breasts.

Maya is fit (lean, but well-muscled), as is demanded of the S.C.A.R.E, and she is usually seen in a plain black tank-top and Blackthorne M&M issued military slacks; along with a pair of heavy boots. She is somewhat short (~5'4) and bears a noticable scar along the top right side of her collarbone. She bears a single tattoo, that runs along the inside of her left forearm. It reads, in thick letters, "EYES UP".

Personality: I do my job, and I do it right. I didn't push myself so hard to get where I am for nothing. I expect those under my command to respect me, my orders and the fact that we're S.C.A.R.E. Everyone else had better damn well get that, too. What matters to me is making sure Blackthorne gets what it wants and that the men under my command stay alive while we make that happen. Everything else is someone else's department.

Now, get the fuck out of my face.

Occupation: S.C.A.R.E (Evadne Complex Division Commander)

History: That's classified. Check with someone that has Grade Seven Clearance, if you want to find out. And good luck with that, if you do try.

Infection Status: Uninfected

Luca

Name: Luca D. Beake

Age: Oh, come now, what does something like that matter? I will merely say that I have been alive long enough to know that almost any question is a loaded one, and that giving away too much information can get you in...unpleasant situations.

Human Appearance:

[+]

Personality: People seem to find me abrasive. I can't imagine why. It must be their lack of understanding! There's no other explanation, I tell you! Surely an adult can handle a joke and some sarcasm, yes? Friendly as I am, though, I can tell people are always watching me with suspicion. It might have something to do with that incident at Site Nine...but if I can't perform my expirements on a living, healthy subject...how could I, in good faith, call myself a scientist?

None of the people I work with understand how deeply we need progress. I am certainly willing to take whatever steps need to be taken, so why can't they?

Occupation: Technically, I am not employed. Blackthorne Medical and Munitions liberated me from a rather unfavorable situation and offered me a few things I couldn't refuse. The first was freedom. The second was to resume my work. Funny, isn't it, how the world works?

I serve, now, as a 'Scientific Consultant'. Really, I oversee numerous projects.

History: Given my contract with Blackthorne M&M, I'm not allowed to speak about it to those outside the company. Which is a shame, truly. I would love to tell you that I was imprisoned in Russia for human experimentation, that I was taken to a place called Site Nine to be executed...that Maya and her lovely S.C.A.R.E detachment raided that compound during a catastrophic decompression of a Contained Reality Shard.

Really, it's quite a shame.

Infection Status: I was in quarantine for thirty six hours, recently. I've shown no signs of Miasma Infection. I assure you that I am quite healthy.

Eddie

Name: Eddie M. Garcia

Age: Twenty five.

Human Appearance:

[+]

Personality: I don't know, man. How the hell am I supposed to summarize myself for you? Whatever, I'll try. I, uh, I guess I spend a lot of my time thinking...and trying to get away from thinking. My head keeps going in circles, and I can't stop my heart from beating really fast. People piss me off, a lot. I like chilling around New Steel City. I know this place like the back of my hand, y'know?

I, uh...yeah. I don't know, man. There's not a lot to tell. You got a buck or two I could borrow, since I told you all that?

Occupation: I buy, I sell. That's all.

History: ...

Infection Status: Infected

Miasma Abilities: Since I...became whatever I am, I've noticed that shit gets real weird around me. Not like awkward, or anything, but...almost like it's not there. I can walk through walls, I can hear things I shouldn't be able to. My body changes when I want it to, and real quick. It's amazing. I've never felt anything like the rush that comes from being this new me. Aside from being faster and stronger, I don't feel any kind of pain...it's just all joy. The best thing, though, is the stuff my skin secretes. I can spit it, too. It melts through steel like I'm pushing my finger through butter.

Another weird thing is that I can produce...uh, spores, I think they're called. Those spores turn into little versions of me. They're tiny, but I think they're pretty sweet. I don't know why, but the other...uh, 'gifted' seem to hate them.

Miasma Appearance:

[+]

[The Narrator]

Conor O'Nelly

Name: My mother gave me the name Conor. But now... I don't feel like that name belongs to me any more... I was born again and I will be baptized again, this time with a new name.

Age: I am 27 years old. Oh how much time I wasted.

Human Appearance:

Picture

I wanted to look like no one else, that's why I have all the tattoos and piercings. To look different, to be something special. Now I know that was foolish, it was just superficial. Miasma made me truly unique and special.

Personality: I was always a lonely kid, spent my time in VR and testing things on the computer instead of playing with the other kids. In university that seemed to change, I went to parties, met girls, took drugs. That again was only superficial. Never felt like I belong anywhere...

Occupation: Cyber-Security at Blackthorne. I really hit the jackpot with this job. I graduated as the best in my class with a master of Computer Science from New Steel City University or NSCU. Anybody treats me still like the new weird kid but the money is good.

History: What is there to tell? I am a punk/computer nerd from the inner city. Raised by a single mother, may she rest in peace. Irish heritage, very good at logical thinking. Wasted most of my youth, got into college and aced it. Now I work for Blackthorne. Now what would be much more interesting is my internet history... But you would have to ask the F.B.I for that.

Infection Status: It got me, it changed me. They put me in temporary quarantine but I don't know what exactly they know.

Miasma Abilities: My mum always said my greatest strength is my brain, a bit prophetic. I seem to have developed psychic abilities. My mind works somehow faster, I can feel that I am getting more intelligent. But while I stay human it mostly is only that. When I transform however it is different. I am able to move objects with just the power of thought and can detect and visualize electric currents and waves. On a very rudimentary level I can also influence those. If it is like a muscle I could perhaps perfect it?

Miasma Appearance:

Miasma Appearance

I transform into something of a big head. I don't even have legs or arms in that form and can only slowly crawl using my tentacles.
But still this form is me?

[ScreenAcne]

005

Name: n/a

Code Name: The Servant

Subject Number: 005

Age:Initial health inspection shown he is to be in early 30's.

Human Appearance:


[I'm too tired to write an appearence. So my guy is now Murray out of the odd couple]

height: 5.9

Weight: 70 kg.

Psychological Profile:

by head psychologist: Sheela Shane

Subject shows innate acceptance and awareness of his nature as a miasma infected, furthermore, he shows a enigmatic understanding of his supposed "role". Most of his answers are vague and confused, quickly dipping into mysticism. Deep emotions of dread, anxiety, and fear about the absolute nature of his infection are apparent but...he has accepted that he is sick, perhaps terminally so and even has been recorded saying "if you need to kill me. I forgive you. Ok, whoever does it. Don't stay awake late at night bullying yourself about it. If it got to that point, you did me a favor"

005's laid back attitude has made him able to cope with containment and inspection surprisingly well. Perhaps too well. His identity is almost entirely revolved around his infection and he flips in intense anxiety about serving it, hating, fearing it, and even trying to understand it. It is my suggestion that in order to keep 005's good nature up, don't let him socialize or develope an identity outside of it.

We are his masters now. We are the authority on Miasma, we are the only ones that could stop...whatever it is, and we're the only ones that could possible save him. No internet, no fashion or fun. Link it back to somehow to him and his infection.

Occupation: "Servant" subject dosen't respond to the police uniform we found him in. Claims no memory of joining any official force.

History:

report from Officer Ray Muni

Subject 005 was on a bus full of partially digested and dismembered people. Bodily harm was immense; missing 3 of his right fingers; several large gashes across his troso that will cause permanent scars; broken nose; internal brusining; 4 broken ribs; the back of his right foot gone; and his skin from his left knee up to his stomach peeled off. His police uniform was worn at this time. The bus was driving in Arizona but went off its course into the local woods, it continued to drive after the driver was..well...we are guessing by the muscus and blood dug into the chew off section of the drivers chair..completely devoured.

and it went off a cliff into a nearby lake. 005 managed to escape by using a torso to float him to shore. He was found and hospitalized sometime later. His wounds had mostly healed. No identity cards have been found in the bus, but we believe it simply may be lost in the wreckage and gore. No wallet, possibly lost when his pants were torn up. No, immediate family that he recalls.

[Investigation Ongoning]

Infection Status: Positive

Miasma Anomalies:

classified: authorized only

All infected innately recognize him as touched by miasma on sight.

They claim to feel that he is here to do something, but what that is they can never articulate. A innate but dismissive sense of importance is ascribed to the subject with a continued theme of no real cause. They simply "know" that harming him will not be a good idea but have been able to act against that. Intense feelings of regret, shame, and anger normally follow even doing minor damage that can inhibit him in any form, even if the aggressor normally expresses sadistic tendencies.

When annoying or aggitating a sentient infected they typically engage in social and sometimes physical bullying. This dosen't seem to produce the same effect, in fact, sentient members have expressed a sense of superiority, power and entitlement to do so.

Feral infected ignore 005, even when he is actively touching or doing things to do them. This tolerance of his presence goes far, and has allowed us to use him as a means of taking samples aggresssively but in case where damage is notable they react. This isn't a calming presence, if something would rouse up an feral they still do so but avoid attacking 005 in the process. The only case of him being attacked was after he was instructed to beat a feral with a pipe, which, after a minute of doing so it dragged him to the corner by his foot. Poked, prodded, pushed, and vomited on him along with slapping. He was dragged around the room again for another 3 minutes before stopping.

This seems to be a primitive display of the "putting in place" seen in sentient subjects.

Hypothesis: I suspect that, unlike the average infected, 005 has a specific intended function. What has given him it and how can a virus possibly assign a hairachy role to a person I don't know. but it has. 005 might seem friendly now but he has these anomalies for a reason and in my personal opinion we should exterminate him sooner rather than later, lest we find out what that reason is.

"I am the self destroying servant. The waiter with the poison, dutifully delivered with trepidetation to a master he fears and loves. He who will start the cycle and end it" ~ 005

[jdh97]

Dr. Camphor

Name: Isaac Camphor

Age: 38

Human Appearance:
A lithe figure of oil and ice. Every movement is purposeful and deliberate, from his graceful walk to the way he carefully readjusts his glasses. Slicked hair clings to his scalp, a jet black veneer, crowning his long face. His eyes seem to possess some unnatural iridescence, such is their piercing sky-blue colouration – always wide open, always studying, and always judging.

Personality:
Want to pick my brain, eh? Understandable; it is a thing you should envy. There is not much for me to say that a psycho-genetic screening would not manage. I am different, I know this. My neural circuitry is not wired the same as yours – it is not what most would consider “normal”. Sometimes I wonder if it can be fixed. Then I remember there is no need. I am capable of doing things, things that would shackle others with moralities and empathy – that is a hard to replace cog in this machine. I am key.

Occupation:
Born with a weeping pit where a moral compass should be, this one is a research scientist at BM&M where he heads the V.A.P. Quite lacking any semblance of integrity, he unties their braided secrets, feeding threads to shadows and puppeteers who can offer vapid wealth, and yet he still sleeps ever so soundly.

History:
My youth… My youth was not pleasant, let us begin elsewhere. How about Blackthorne? Yes, let us begin with Blackthorne and their lucrative offer. Freedom in the scientific field in no small thing, and that is what they provided. An ever so tempting morsel, but it is the so called “Miasma Infection” that kept me with them. Understanding how it works… well, I should not have to explain why it has become my passion.

Infection Status: Uninfected

[hagroden]

Retired Personnel - "Hat"

S.C.A.R.E. - Personnel and Data Log Entry #GAT428, Contracted Agent "Hat"

Birth Name is REDACTED, or code name "Hat."

"Hat" is REDACTED years old, and appears to be in mid 60.

(See First Photo in File) "Hat" has short, grey hair. He's relatively old and it shows on his face. He is almost always wearing a scally cap. While "Hat's" father is REDACTED and his mother is REDACTED, he himself is from the United States of America.

"Hat" - 10/18/23

"Hat" stands at 5'8 and weighs ~170 pounds.

"Unknown" - N/A

(If Second Photo in file titled "Unknown" depicts more than an assault rifle, please report to nearest quarantine and request testing for Miasma infection.)

"Hat" is shown to be a calm and cheerful individual in the outside as he's able to make people feel calm in his presence. However, beneath this facade is a sinister persona of his - he is merciless when it comes to killing others and he often finds it fun to cause destruction and kill people (whether they're innocent or not).

He's also cautious, logical, and calculating as he's able to devise strategies that gave his desired outcome, often times outsmarting his opponents as demonstrated when he enacted in his plan to take out REDACTED and successfully defeated the REDACTED that was assigned to take him out despite them outnumbering him.

"Hat" was formerly contracted as an external mercenary for S.C.A.R.E., and often REDACTED escapees infected with the Miasma Virus. However, He retired on REDACTED.

As a child, REDACTED was seen ruthlessly killing numerous animals in cold blood for entertainment in a barn, much to his father's fear. While his father scolded REDACTED and loved him deeply, REDACTED himself seemed indifferent and incapable of understanding his Father's emotions.

REDACTED was part of the United States Marine Corps in the past. Nicknamed "Poker-face," he began his 8-week recruit training in REDACTED by faking his age to join the corps. After the first 2 weeks, he left because of a supposed serious illness. This was, however, a cover, as he was actually recruited to be part of an ultra-elite section of the military known only as REDACTED while fighting in REDACTED.

In REDACTED, after the end of the war, "Hat" and REDACTED are assigned to a secret recovery mission in REDACTED. With "Hat" in the lead, the group had managed to perfectly execute the mission in 2 days without firing a single shot, but just as REDACTED was to return to the extraction point, "the devil woke up," as REDACTED fired a shot, catching the attention of hundreds of enemies, forcing the men into a battle, resulting in one member dead, one heavily injured, and "Hat" himself without a leg. After his return, he was dishonorably discharged.

Code-name "Hat" is infected, and should be considered highly dangerous.

Known abilities attributed to his Infection are
A: Physical Regeneration; "Hat" was originally detained after the "miraculous" regeneration of left leg. After extensive testing, Blackthorne has determined that "Hat" can regenerate ever part of his body, including his head. However, when detached, the part of his body with the most significant mass will regenerate, while the others will decompose in a manner similar to most organic matter, albeitly at a drastically faster rate. (Regeneration appears to occur only during event B.)

B. Resurrection; "Hat" is able to resurrect himself after dieing 15-30 seconds after death. Exclusively during this period of resurrecting he is capable of regenerating, however his body can be damaged and killed repeatedly during this time-frame, allowing him to be incapacitated for extended periods of time. This however, is difficult to achieve due to his third ability. (See event C.)

C. IIE Manifestation; "Hat" is capable of materializing, controlling, seeing/hearing/speaking through, and fighting with a semi-invisible entity (Named IIE) that has been described by infected individuals to appear as a REDACTED. The IIE seems to exist as a second manifestation of Hat, as well as a shell to be controlled by Hat.

C-1. IIE Physical Testing Results; The IIE carries the Miasma Virus, has been observed to travel up to 35 mph, can exert ~1,500 pounds of force behind a punch, and ~3,200 pounds of force behind a kick. The IIE has been observed to be capable of bench-pressing upwards of ~1,200 lbs, Squatting upwards of ~1,600 lbs, and Dead lifting upwards of ~6,500 lbs.

C-2. IIE Misc Testing Results; The IIE is visible only to those infected by the Miasma Virus. IIE has been recorded using firearms and other forms of weaponry with the same efficiency recorded by "Hat." IIE has been recorded travelling a maximum of half of a mile from Hat, although Hat began to display physical signs of discomfort in the form of; bloody nose, coughing blood, and bleeding from eyes/ears. IIE has also been recorded functioning normally regardless of Hat's influence, as IIE continued with testing during a period in which Hat was incapacitated.

See Third attached Photo for "Hat's" Infected Apperance

"Hat" Infected

When appearing as "infected," Hat is 6'9 and weighs ~370 lbs.

[SilverPaw]

Jacqueline A. Galloway

Name: Jacqueline A. Galloway

Age: 28

Human Appearance: Jacqueline is about average in height at 5’6, has a pale but healthy complexion and is slim – she does casual but regular sporting to keep fit. Outside of work, where business attire is required, Jacqueline prefers casual to semi-formal clothing and may be seen in soft jeans, cargo pants, sweatpants, T-shirts, hoodies, jackets, simple dresses and sneakers or sandals. Regardless of what she wears, the articles in question are often more expensive than the average-salary earner could afford (or be willing to consider). Her policy on jewellery, makeup and similar accessory is minimalistic but elegant – and she may forgo such things entirely for situations where they aren’t strictly expected.

Picture

Personality: Not to brag, but I’m a good actress. No, really. No, I’m not a professional. I think my smile rivals some pros out there though. I know how to be pleasant, polite and kind to just about anyone. I’m mildly curious about people – in the same way one might be mildly curious about a stranger’s well-behaved dog. Do I want to train people? Where did that even come from? Oh, I’m sorry, my example must have been bad. That’s why I don’t joke; people always think I’m crazy when they are the ones who just don’t get it.
Do I love? Of course, I do. Sheesh, I’m not some psychopath. I don’t think everyone else is beneath me, I don’t treat others as if they were just tools, I don’t get enraged at the drop of a hat and I’ve never considered murdering someone. Isn’t that enough? Oh, please, everyone is pretending to some degree. Doesn’t make us all criminals.

Occupation: Judicial clerk.

History: I was born. My parents have always been well-off and concerned with reputation. If you ask me, they are the psychopaths. They let my older brother have “too much freedom” (their interpretation, not mine), so he rebelled and became an artist. Not a respectable job in my parents’ eyes. What the hell do they know? My brother is a cool guy. Sure, maybe he was in “bad” company occasionally, but so what? Anyhow, my parents decided to be stricter with me. Less freedom, more hard work. I’m not complaining, it toughened me up. So what if I never had the chance to follow my passion? It isn’t like I had any back then. Being a “good girl” has its perks for sure.

I think my life is better than my brother’s, he thinks I’m not even the one living my life. Screw him. I am the one who has to put effort in all sort of crap. Studying was never a problem for me. But ever since I remember, people have been telling me that I look too serious, asking me why I don’t smile and asking me if I am in a bad mood. I’d love to go back and tell them “This is my natural face, you fuckers!” It wouldn’t be polite though. Oh, well. This is how I learned to fake the best goddamn smile in the universe. No kidding. What’s the point in smiling when there’s nothing to be happy about? Apparently, those kinds of thoughts aren’t “healthy” and I’ve been once told they’re a sign of depression. I have nothing to be sad about either, so that’s not it. That’s beside the point though. The point is, I learned to smile fabulously. Not that anyone ever thinks it’s anything but a normal smile. At least I know.

What? Too much rambling, not enough facts? I’m sure a smart cookie such as yourself can find my CV easily enough.

Infection Status: Infected.

Miasma Abilities: Ever since I’ve gained a second form, I can do things that make me question the nature of my humanity. Even in my human form (yes, I feel strange calling “it” that, but what else am I supposed to call it?), I can morph my body to some degree (small fangs, patches of tough chitinous exoskeleton, spinnerets and presumably venom glands, silk glands etc.). I feel that I will be able to do even more with practice.

I can now produce various…substances. Confirmed: venom, hyper-healing blood (to the point of regeneration, given some time), spider silk (you’d better not underestimate this). Yes, I can liquefy my food, but at least in my human form, that is not necessary. Suspected, but unconfirmed: ability to infect other organisms.

After I managed to overcome my…reluctance…to make contact with regular spiders, I discovered that they can share their impressions with me. Via my hair. Don’t even ask. I guess I can even grow nerve tissue now. How exactly my technically human brain can comprehend an arachnid’s senses, I have no idea. I wonder if I could give them basic commands like this…

Miasma Appearance: This is one of those things that no-one knows, but I hate spiders (I avoid the term “fear”). And now I’m some kind of a monster-spider if I turn and a spider-woman as a human. What the fuck am I supposed to think about that?

Miasma appearance

(Add +4 legs and a visible spider's abdomen behind the legs to your mental picture of above)

Other: “Don’t even try to call me ‘Jack’ or ‘Jacky’. I will only accept ‘Lynn’ as a nickname, and you better be my friend and ask first. Otherwise, you will land firmly in my ‘disliked’ category. Consequences? Hmm…”

“Don’t criticize my smile. Don’t criticize my laugh. And even I have to rest my facial muscles sometimes, so do not, under any circumstances, ask or otherwise point to my lack of a smile. I’ll hate you.”

[Viatos]

Martin the Magnificent

Name: Martin Margrave, formerly Martin Warrick, sometimes the Magnificient Marovio

Age: 33

Human Appearance: Tall, dark, and handsome, Martin plays hard to the stereotypical image that screams either magician or evil vizier, depending on what sort of movies you watch.



Personality (Optional): The showman. The charmer. The daredevil. The maniac?

Occupation: Stage magician (former?)

History (Optional): Martin majored in theatre, to the despair of his math and engineering professors - whip-smart and clever with his hands, he would have made an outstanding architect. He wanted to be a magician instead, but it turns out all the fantastical props in the world don't make up for a certain lack of stage presence and an insurmountable aversion to the slow ramp of complexity necessary to hook an audience instead of just overwhelming them from the start. He knows the backstage arts, but his work has to be front and center. He's skilled, but his career is failing.

So is his marriage; Martin may have locked in the dream of marrying his high school sweetheart, but somewhere after the early years the dream began to fade. Adrianna Lisbon-Margrave hasn't been home the last couple years, and their awkward bitterness-edged friendship has been deteriorating of late - some kind of trouble she won't disclose, something to do with her work up at Blackthorne. He'd be more concerned if he wasn't also trying to be a positive influence in the lives of Jacob and Alison Warrick, younger siblings by seven years and ten respectively, who their parents say are in trouble with a drug craze quietly sweeping NSC. Some newfangled thing called Thana or Thane, short for Thanatopsic Arcana, said to produce the same full-throttle trip as a dying brain dumping its remaining chemical load all atonce.

Maybe he'd at least have a handle on THAT, along with his stumbling career and the oncoming subway train of middle-aged loneliness and mediocrity he can feel starting to circle around him, if it wasn't for the latest complication - two unexpected visitors to his last, greatest, and most fateful performance. One was a friend of his wife, an off-duty S.C.A.R.E. operative (Martin knew her as "internal security") determined to make the most of a bad date by taking in a good show.

The other was Smile, not off-duty at all, who changed what actually wasn't a very good show into something...extraordinary. He pointed out, over the course of a movie-monster fast advance, that all these suffering people weren't really looking for Martin's help. No one suffering is. They just want to be understood. For Martin to...have a heart.

The clip's gone viral, but nobody outside the kooky conspiracy boards has bitten on the idea that a magic show might have involved an actual supernatural event - yet. Sure, it was a weird finale, but timely pyrotechnics and a little primal instinct from Martin covered up the worst of what happened for the majority of his audience.

Not so much for the operative, though. Martin was black-bagged backstage and woke up buried in the laboratory-dungeons of the Evadne Complex, full of strange urges and rippling with a power he doesn't understand. As if his life wasn't complicated enough.

Infection Status: Infected

Miasma Abilities (Infected Only):

LUNAR OMENS: His Infected appearance is contrarian - a bulky body and wide, wedge-shaped predator's head, but its slender limbs move delicately, balancing on bone spurs like a dancer. He has help, though, in the form of a loose relationship with mass and gravity. He moves too fast - especially through the air, breaking physical laws regarding velocity and air resistance as if he'd received a state exemption - and across surfaces that not only lack obvious grip but shouldn't be able to support his weight, which is actually several times what his appearance would suggest. The selectivity of these omens make him exceedingly dangerous on the hunt for prey unaware of them, especially if that prey is not itself imbued with supernatural physicality.

CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT: Martin can consume biomass to create batlike "familiars" that are mostly bundles of teeth, wings, and tail-tacles from his body: a corpse offers enough material to refine into a single familiar. They're loosely independent and not particularly dangerous (to humans) when not directed by his will; they hunt nonhuman fauna and for bodies, whose biomass they repurpose into infected disturbing "hives" that can produce more of their number (with the advantage that hives accept piecemeal offerings; the character needs at least a hundred pounds worth of corpse all at once). While familiars are intelligent enough to avoid harm when possible, they don't threaten living humans even in self-defense - they're unwilling to endanger potential Infected hosts. They hide from Infected not of their strain, but sometimes follow them in hopes of new biomass sources, and sometimes mob non-sentient Infected who cross into a hive's "territory". Their hives begin to leak Miasma as they grow, and non-sentient Infected created by exposure or forced into extended contact (at least a day) with its Miasma adopt familiar instincts - driving Infected of different strains to destroy both familiars and hives if they can get at them.

Within about a hundred yards of the character, Martin can hear and echolocate through his familiars. Within about thirty yards, they become effectively extensions of his will. Within biting range, Martin can actually eat familiars that have been directed to consume and catalyze blood or neural tissue for him - a mouthful of blood allowing him to recover about a day's worth of memory over a few minutes' time, while a familiar that's snacked down on a whole brain offers up to a week, digested over hours. Infected with the familiar strain aren't quite so attuned: he can listen through one at a time, direct its actions, or consume it to recover memory, but all of these activities require his full concentration to perform.

RUNNING WITH THE DEVIL: Once a hive reaches about a busload's worth of biomass, it stops producing batlike familiars and "calls" its existing brood home. If most of them make the journey, the hive devours them to spawn a single new being - a packmate - a lupine Infected whose form and relationship to the physical laws of our universe are similar to Martin's own. More alarmingly, a packmate displays sentient levels of autonomy...and the first time it consumes an entire human corpse, becomes imprinted, thereafter capable of taking that form and a week's worth of its memories. Like familiars, they can catalyze blood and neural tissue. Unlike familiars, they don't need to die to update each other or Martin - a single heavy bite will do. These creatures aren't capable of creating familiars or evolving, but the phenomenon is one whose threat is immediately obvious.

Familiars and packmates both seem compelled to sing or hum softly in the presence of a hive or their ultimate master, and this sole instinct resists all attempts at override.

Miasma Appearance (Infected Only): His transmogrified form is a monstrous sort of chiropterolupine mash-up, big, toothy, with no eyes in the usual place and too many elsewhere, winglike limbs clawed by bone spurs, and big fluffy ears. He is a fever-dream variation of a vampire werewolf.

[shylarah]

Lee

Name: Cecilly "Lee" Roseberg

Age: 31 (born in March)

Human Appearance: Lee is a tall woman, a bit less than six feet tall and even taller in heels. Her regimen of dance and self defense have made her solid and athletic, but her muscles are softened by generous curves. Her hair is cut in a layered bob just past her chin, and her bangs are just long enough to get into her eyes, something she doesn't really notice. Her eyes are milky hazel and tend to wander, focusing on nothing. Her lips are full, but she rarely wears any sort of lipstick with the exception of a simple and nearly colorless gloss. She does not wear much makeup at all, aside from a little foundation and a smidge of blush, since putting it on is difficult for her. Her face is somewhere between an oval and a heart, with a strong nose and round cheeks. Her clothes tend to be of a certain set of colors, picked so that if she grabs the wrong one they won't clash too badly. This means nothing too bright, nor any particularly loud patterns.

Oddly enough she does have preferred colors, even though she can't tell what they look like. Lee has formed strong associations for various colors based on things described by that color. Pinks and oranges like the sunset appeal to her because of a certain quality to the air once the sun goes down. She also likes the green of grass or a walk in the woods, and the yellow of sunshine.

She has a distinct preference for comfortable clothing, and a fondness for textured fabrics like velvet, suede, silk, fleece, and knits. She is as comfortable in skirts as jeans or yoga pants and a sweatshirt, and what she wears depends a lot on what she is doing that day. While teaching she wears close-fitting clothing, though she puts something over it before heading home on all but the hottest days, in which case she often changes.

Personality: Lee is a polite young lady, and generally composed. She is usually softspoken and an excellent listener. She is generous by nature, and had to learn where to draw the line so as not to overextend herself. She can be a bit gullible if presented with someone in need of assistance, and she doesn't like saying no, even when she knows it's in her best interests to do so. She has minor social anxiety, and she values her time alone, even though she loves people and loves spending time with a wide network of friends. She tries to project a confidence that she does not always feel, especially in a social situation where her discomfort might negatively impact the enjoyment of others. She is sensitive to noisy environments and large amounts of chaotic motion, and either can be overwhelming. Lee has clinical depression, though she's had it more or less in hand for some time. On bad days she can be moody and irritable, and she does need to take a break from doing things to focus on herself now and then, but overall she's doing well.

Occupation: dance instructor

History: Cecilly's mother Emily Krichilsky was young -- only twenty, and not yet married. The man she was seeing vanished before she even knew she was pregnant, and she eventually married another man, Dave Roseberg. Lee's half-brother Ruben is several years younger than she, but the two are still close.

Lee was born blind, though she was otherwise a healthy baby. However what neither her mother nor the ob/gyn realized was that her father had been infected with miasma when she was conceived, and she'd inherited some of the...changes. Her spatial perception was the only active aspect of her infection, and it is in theory possible that a high sensitivity to air currents and sound could account for most of it. It is not uncommon for those lacking a given sense to have greater discernment with others, and while her ability is a bit odd and certainly unusually precise, Lee never exhibited any other signs of infection, and the miasma itself was in a dormant state.

Her life was generally uneventful, the usual mix of good and bad. She was a good student but not exceptional, and she took up dance as an alternative to sports (specifically gymnastics). As a young teen she picked up martial arts, deciding that the mental discipline taught with many of the eastern systems would help her deal with her increasing struggle with depression. This is also when she started seriously pursuing a career in dance. Initially she picked a performing arts major, but after helping with an informal dance class over a break Lee realized that she liked teaching just as much as dancing itself, possibly more. She switched performing arts to her minor and graduated with a Master's in dance education.

She initially started as a junior instructor at a fairly large studio in town that specialized in ballet, but Lee wanted to offer something a a bit less formal -- and something closer to where she lived, where it wasn't a long walk from public transportation to get there. A few of her college friends had a similar desire, and they pooled their funds and purchased an old theatre in a historic part of town, where the city council was trying to lure leasers. With some grants, some help, and a lot of fundraising, the group fixed the place up to suit their needs. While they often come close to the wire on repaying loans, they've managed to weather every time money was short thus far. An older dancer fallen on hard times has since joined them, and the little studio has built up a reputation for excellence, variety, and reliability.

Infection Status: Infected (dormant, possible aberrant incubation)

Miasma Abilities: Cecilly exhibits an odd form of spatial perception. She is able to tell where things are around her, though her range is far less than that of most people's vision. She can sense perhaps as far as a large classroom (her preferred studio is one where she can stand by one wall and see most of the way to the other). The closer something is, the more detail she can make out. This perception extends in a full sphere around her; she is not hindered by the direction she is facing. She cannot see through windows, and screens are meaningless surfaces. If there is a large object between her and something else -- such as the corner of a building -- Lee can pick up somewhat more beyond it than would be visible, but still experiences a sharp dropoff in level of detail. Smaller objects are less of an issue and for something like a tree trunk of moderate size they do not block her senses. A lot of debris in the air can distract and disrupt her abilities, though things like mist and light rain are far less of an issue.

Following her encounter with Smile, her awareness has begun to reach beyond the surface of objects, though not all the way through them. If someone put their face by a window she was near, Lee can pick that up, and she can detect things like broken bones, thin ice, and other issues of structural integrity. Thus far, that is the only noticeable change.

Miasma Appearance: none
Lee has yet to exhibit the ability to transform.

Other:
Lee is Jewish, and she attends Shabbat and holiday services regularly at the conservative synagogue where she is a member.

She has a good relationship with both her mother and her stepfather, but in terms of family Lee is closest to her half-brother and her maternal grandmother. Ruben is away at college, though the two stay in touch via phone and the internet. Leah Krichilsky lives in assisted living just a few blocks from Lee's apartment building and is always delighted when her granddaughter comes to visit, at least once a week and often more. Leah is over ninety but still possessed of a sharp mind, and while she often relies a great deal on her cane she is quite active -- often to the consternation of everyone who knows her. The old lady has never really accepted that she's not as capable as she was at merely fifty, and at her age a broken bone or a turned ankle could be a serious problem.

Lee speaks fluent Yiddish, taught by her grandmother.

She owns an orange tabby by the name of Freddie.

Cecilly really dislikes elevators and any sort of enclosed vehicle. She does use bus and subway extensively, as she cannot drive, but if at all possible she prefers to walk places. She loves walking in general, and often if she doesn't have anything to do she'll just go for a wander in a nearby park or subdivision.

She takes an aikido class once a week, and is good enough at self defence that she believes she could hold her own in a hand-to-hand fight if someone tried to mug her -- so long as they didn't have a gun.

She has an especial fondness for tap.

[MordecaiThe 1st]

Valkyrie

Name: Valkyrie. The ones in my unit call me Val. I never had a surname.

Age: 19. I suppose you could say I'm fresh, but Maya says I'm "green" I've not been active duty very long, but this is all i've ever known.

Appearance: 5' 8". 140 lbs. Mid length, light brown hair. blue eyes. I think I look like a boy, but I'm always in uniform, so that's alright.

Personality: I do what I'm told and try not to ask too many questions. I watch more often than I'm seen and listen more often than I speak, and I think that's the safest way to be. Hidden. I'm loyal to my unit, they're my purpose. My reason. I'm enjoying the fresh air that comes with active duty, some time away from the Evadne Complex where I've spent the better part of my life; when we aren't on active duty, I like to draw and read some old comics I found called Calvin and Hobbes.
But I'd never tell them any of that. They'd just make fun of me for being soft.

Occupation: I guess a mix of lab rat and S.C.A.R.E...

History: S.C.A.R.E. is all I've ever known. Before we started to collect those infected by the miasma, we executed them. My father was never in the picture, and my mother was infected and dispatched when I was an infant. I was put in quarantine for observation. I was found to have a sister strain of the miasma laying dormant in my body. It isn't quite the same as what we deal with, but it's presumed malicious. To prevent any adverse effects from becoming prominent, I was given an experimental nano-inhibitor. It seems to have worked for the last 19 years, but it does seem to be the cause of some migraines. The only advantage is that the current strain of the miasma doesn't see me as a potential host. Once I was cleared, they couldn't find any extended family, so S.C.A.R.E adopted me. Raised me. Taught me everything I know. Everything I need to know to be a good soldier. I was just thrown in to the field for my 18th birthday last year. Its been.. Something.

Infection Status: Healthy. I have more pity for the infected than animosity. There has to be a way to stop this plague. Throughout history, humanity has always found a cure. And if not a cure, at least prevention or treatment. My empathy for them doesn't prevent me from dispatching them if they are an eminent threat.

[Mammon]

Kiara Fluellen

"Is this some sort of online dating...?"

Name: Kiara Fluellen

Age: 25

Human Appearance:

Profile Picture

Personality (Optional): ”Is this where I put my sign? It’s Virgo. A website also told me I was ISFJ.”
She is warm-hearted, optimistic and dependable. Ki has a strong moral compass, though she frequently finds herself in over her head from her naivety and trust. Despite her compassion for others, she is shy and unwilling to speak up about her own feelings. Kiara often finds herself feeling inadequate, homely, or unloved.

Occupation: ”Mortician--but I’m not creepy, I promise!” Kiara works processing bodies at Blackthorne M&M.

History (Optional): ”I had a boyfriend in college, but it didn’t last very long… But I’m looking to expand my dating history! Feel free to message me.”

Infection Status: ”Of course I don’t have anything! I haven’t even found the right man.” Infected.

Miasma Abilities (Infected Only):

”I’ve been told I can do anything I put my mind to, if I only I had a bit more self-confidence…”
Her power stems from self-image: eyes reflected back upon the seer, a smile, a frown, flesh stretched over bone and thought; emotion. This she can hone like a razor, if only she knew how to believe.

Miasma Appearance (Infected Only):

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