Lord Wraith

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: Ünterland}

Human #5.072: Sister Golden Hair

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Freezing

^{| Several Weeks From Now}

“There will be more if we linger.”

Silence hung over the forest for but a moment as Lorcán tried to calm his racing mind. His heart pounded against his ribs like a thundering bass note. So much had happened in such a short time. They had travelled through the portal, the cut in reality Ellara had made with a knife she referred to as a fragment of Samael’s Scythe.

They had definitely been words that left her mouth, but they were words that bore no meaning to the island-raised young man.

Through the portal they had been drawn into Limbo, a place Lorcán understood to be a prison, a plane between life and death used for torment and suffering. Limbo had threatened to pull him apart, only to spit him out in this cursed place.

Ünterland.

It didn’t seem to take long for everything to go astray as they were immediately separated from Gil. Then the group was attacked before they could reach the village. The village whose tantalizing aromas bore a constant reminder that Lorcán hadn’t eaten since arriving. And now, he was staring at a ball of light that was introduced as his sibling.

His Guardian Sister?

So many questions clouded his mind as he studied the ball of light that radiated the same hues as his own eyes did, or at least as they did on Earth, or wherever home was. Here he was weakened, it was cold and everything felt heavier.

Was this what it meant to be normal?

“They’re getting closer with every second we hesitate, their stench taints the wind.”

Rothschild interrupted Lorcán’s thoughts as he continued to stare at the talking dog and the orb of light. Somehow, it was less surreal when Rothschild was simply the ‘Hyperdog’ on campus. The underbrush quivered and shook when suddenly another horror burst free. A growl escaped from Rothschild’s snapping jaws as the creature suddenly shed its guise. Curling tendrils of shadow spewed towards the ground as wraith-like claws met the attacker with no resistance as it cleaved through flesh, muscle and bone with no effort.

A retaliation from the wendigo passed harmlessly through the phantom form as the shadowy familiar savoured the lesser Hellion’s struggle. Flames of indigo and violet spilled out of both its eyes and mouth eliciting an unnerving cry of anguish from the creature as it vanished into nothing but fleeting ash, carried away on the familiar winds of Ünterland.

“Come, Moonchild,” Rothschild stated, transforming back into the familiar black and white dog that Lorcán thought he knew.

“What are you?”

“I am Ciar of the Stygian Veil, though you may continue to refer to me as Rothschild, others here refer to me as Kieran Cahorsbrut, a name I respect in reverence of my former master.” Ciar answered before raising his snout to point towards the orb of light hovering around Lorcán.

“This is your sister, Bridget, she remembers you well.”

“Little brother,” Bridget teased, her urgent tone softening as she tried to empathize with her brother’s confusion. “Look how grown you are. Almost a man”

“I don’t have a sister.” Lorcán argued softly, reaching towards his weapons as he tried to put several paces between himself, Ciar and Bridget.

“Not a living one.” Ciar replied softly as Bridget glowed in agreement.

“We shared the womb, but the Mundane world was not for me, before I could draw my first breath of look upon our mother I found myself here.” The orb of light suddenly grew, projecting itself into a humanoid shape as Lorcán found himself looking into a set of familiar eyes. He could see his mother’s eyes looking back at him, backed with his father’s fierceness. Long hair spilled down past her shoulders, ending above the waist while she stood only an inch shorter than Lorcán himself. Their nose was the same, though Bridget had her mother’s mouth where Lorcán’s was firmly from Aiden. Ears were the same too.

The twins studied each other, the urgency of the moment lost in the awe as their hands met, palm against palm. For the first time since he stepped foot in Ünterland, Lorcán felt a familiar warmth pulse through his body. Suddenly the world around him felt alive, reaching out through Bridget, Lorcán felt…

Something.

A force, not unlike the Hazies above, but far more raw, far more powerful. Pure, undiluted.

“You can feel the Vis.” Bridget replied with awe as Lorcán opened his eyes to look at his sister again. She pulled her hand back and just as suddenly as he felt the world come alive, it was ripped away and it was like drowning underwater again. Senses deadened, unable to reach out, struggling and sinking.

“I shouldn’t have let you do that, they’ll kill you for that.” Bridget muttered, retreating back into the form of an orb of light. The sky above Lorcán suddenly illuminated like a beacon calling forth and Bridget fled into the forest.

“We have to move.” Ciar urged, “The Vǣrloga will be hunting us now.”

“Nobody is making any sense.” Lorcán called, giving chase after the pair. He looked back over his shoulder, towards the direction he had come from. It worried him that no one had come looking for him during all this time.

Hopefully Aurora was safe with Ellara.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

The Path is narrow and difficult for only few will ever walk it. Enemies lie in wait on all sides, hellions and Magni alike, lurking to down the Sparrows as Samael’s soldiers continue their war, working in the dark to bring forth the light. The Path is the name given to the mission bore by the Jäger, the Hexensbane, and it is their sworn purpose to protect Midyeden from the threats of the Deceiver and his Hellions of Ünterland.

Hellions enter Midyeden through Conjunctions, an event when Ünterland and Midyeden, the Mundane, are briefly connected, bypassing the prison dimension known as Limbo. Limbo, or Purgatory, exists not as a plane between life and death but rather as a bridge between the worlds of the Mundane and Ünterland. A hostile plane, host to lost souls and the Hellions that feed upon them, Limbo is known as the realm of the damned. Originally a plane of traversal between realms, Limbo was transformed into a prison during the war between the Jäger and the Hexenbrut.

Due to the meddling of the Hexensbane, Limbo exists as a barrier, not only to keep Hellions and the Magni native to Ünterland from crossing over but also to keep the Mundane from entering. As such, it exists as an aid to Samael’s definition of the natural order, an attempt to maintain a balance between the Mundane and Ünterland. When a Magni crosses over from Ünterland to the world of the Mundane, Limbo often attempts to strip them of their extra seele or soul.

Despite acting as a prison for all manner of Hellions, Limbo is not impenetrable and at times Limbo opens, allowing passage where Hellions can escape to either realm. Other times Limbo causes the two realms to overlap and merge, creating a Conjunction which allows for travel and a temporary merger of the two planes.

The living can not remain in Limbo for an extended period, and those that do find their bodies rapidly aging before turning to decay. For this reason, it is understood that Limbo exists outside the normal passage of time making it particularly useful to Jäger who are walking the Path. With experience, one can use Limbo to cross the world in an instant or even defy the natural flow of time.

Sworn to walk the Path, the Jäger live disconnected and nomadic lives often free of attachments and entanglements. While imbued with numerous gifts from Samael, scattered and isolated, they were a target. Thus, the Venari Council was born, truthseekers with power and influence who could offer protection and aid to the Jäger. Men and women of influence who could have charges dismissed and offer housing, food and even comfort to the weary, road-worn souls.

Further still, Samael offered help in the form of his Chosen, virgin maidens elected for their untainted blood to be used to further infuse power and protection upon his Sparrows. Jäger are marked by Samael's Chosen. Their virgin blood inscribed on the Sparrows’ skin in the form of a protection rune through ritual skin stitching that imparts upon the Sparrow safe passage through Limbo.

The problem with power and authority is that it needlessly corrupts and so too it was that the Venari Council slowly began to distance itself from the Path and instead employ the Jäger to protect their fleeting power.

When the Jäger wouldn’t comply, they too were hunted to near extinction. An Inquisition was led and they were seen as no more than witches of another flavour. Like those they had banished, the Jäger were forced to take refuge in Ünterland.

Displeased with the actions of the Council, Samael returned from the void and ventured to Midyeden, the Angel of Death lashing out and so the Venari Council was decimated, free to rebuild as Jäger who had evaded capture ascended to the seats that had once been held over them.

There once was a woman who lived a life so strange it had to be true.
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_{Location: Seattle, WA - United States of America}

Human #5.068: The Hunter

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Unnatural Selection

^{| Several Years Ago}

The motorcycle weaved in and out of traffic as Ellara’s hair blew loosely in the wind. Revving the engine beneath her, the bike protested ever so slightly before launching forward, the front tire lifting up from the ground before roughly slamming back down just in time for Ellara to guide the agile vehicle around the rear bumper of a large sedan.

Her head was a mess, images of a different time, a different person’s memories flashed across her mind as her thoughts returned to the murder by her workplace. Why was this hanging over her, why should she care about a random murder in the street? Ellara knew deep down that it was likely only because it was so close to her place of work, but part of her couldn’t help but feel there was something more. Some sort of unspoken connection, and she couldn’t be the only one who thought so either.

The people in the bar, what had they asked her? Something in another language, they had accused her of being something, something that had triggered a memory.

You’re a Jäger.

The words echoed around in Ellara’s head as she bit down on her lip, revving the engine of the bike hard, a steady whine echoing over the street as she rode the middle line. What did it mean, why did that word keep repeating itself. A woman’s face appeared before her, suddenly twisting as the skin turned a pale green, the eyes disappearing into her empty sockets as a voice like wind rattling dry bones echoed through Ellara’s skill.

Jäger

The apparition’s voice haunted Ellara as she merged into a new lane, coming around the left side of the the lined up traffic ahead of her. The bike fought against the road below as Ellara moved over the rumble strip before gripping into the shoulder as Ellara’s own mind tossed around the foreign word.

Jäger

Her mother’s voice echoed her own as the word began to take on a certain familiarity. Echoes of her parents talking, her Aunt and even her Uncle’s voice began to float through Ellara’s head as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, the sudden sadness invoking first feelings of regret, then pain, and finally anger. Maxing out the throttle, Ellara jumped back into the lane as she guided the motorcycle onto the next exit ramp. Lost in her thoughts, Ellara failed to notice the whine of another motorcycle behind her as the woman from the bar filled her head again.

German for hunter, but a special type.

The woman had been cryptic and intentionally so. The primary question had to ask was why? Secrecy had plagued her entire life, her father had refused to reveal the cause of her mother’s death, his reasons for leaving Ellara in the care of her Aunt. Her Aunt had refused to comment on the matter as well and Ellara’s Uncle had pulled away from her after her Aunt, like her mother, died under mysterious circumstances.

Only we can see the darkness in people, the monsters that hide within.

Ellara couldn’t help but find it maddening as the memories came and went, abstract phrases and words lacking context taunted her like riddles that were never meant to be solved. Pulling under the bridge, Ellara guided her bike towards the tier, the glint of a headlight in her rearview mirror finally catching her eye as she was ripped from the past and placed back firmly in the present as the other rider began to gain on her.

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

What if... Clark Kent had a sibling?

Friends with Lex, who initially helps Clark move to Metropolis
Brother named Ryan
Lex is actually well intentioned
Clark and Ryan are actually the same age, the Kents having found the infant Clark only weeks before the delivery of their own child.
Ryan lived most of his life in his extraordinary brother's shadow.
When Clark was younger and sickly, Ryan watched out for him.
Ryan and Clark both competed for the affections of Lana Lang

"Why didn't you save him, Clark?" Ryan's face was stained with tears, his suit still wet from the rain as he stood over his adopted brother, the downpour beating against the roof of the Kent's farmhouse before spilling over the eavestrough splattering against the edge of the wrap around porch.

"You're so burdened with these powers, but the one man, the one man you should have saved, the one who means more to us than anyone else, you let him die." Ryan sighed, "You're faster than a speeding bullet, you could have gotten Dad to the hospital in time, you could have saved him."

Star Wars - Fires of Exaron [5BBY]

WITHDRAWN

Voided

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

Name: L'Bo az Zurroh
Species: Shistavanen
Age: 42
Appearance: Coming Soon
Equipment:
-Slugthrower
-Blaster
Abilities: Just a simple wolfman trying to make his way in the galaxy.
Skills:
Weaknesses:
History: Not much about Zurroh before he came to Exaron is known. What is known about the 'Slumdog King' is shrouded in hearsay and false truths. The Shistavanen, the Wolfman who stalks his foes in the night with claws like vibroblades and teeth that can pierce even beskar. The Slumdog King has eyes and ears everywhere, often among the first to know about any happening on Exaron and his allies, the desolate and downtrodden miners, farmers, workers, and families who had no other options, all display loyalty previously unseen towards any crimelord on Exaron. The powers that be fear the influence of the Slumdog King and the coming class war.

While seen as a crimelord or a gangster, in actuality, Zurroh is more of a 'Robin Hood', using his siphoned power and allies to steal from the mining moguls and farming barons to give back to those who have been forced beneath them.

Owed money by a drunk dug with a gambling problem.

With Exaron now under Imperial Control.

Hutt Enforcer
Besalisk Brothers, muscle and bookkeeper (Dakka and Druggat)
Wookiee mechanic
Codru-ji Body Guard
Twi'lek Togruta and droid, (Korrina)
Droid (T-3X)
Bat-squirrel (Cofa)

Narglatch tribute/pet/mount (Renan)

T H E V U L F G A N G
T H E V U L F G A N G

^{"Witty Quote"}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ L'Bo az Zurroh aka 'The Wolf' _________________________________________________________ Shistavanen | 42 Years (Galactic Standard) | Gangster _________________________________________________________ Shistavanen (Native), Basic, Huttese, Shyriiwook | Exaron T H E G A N G T H E G A N G _________________________________________________________ [+] - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Erebor Qunaalac Tiron Otherwise known as Erebor the H'unn, is an exiled Hutt of a lower caste and the former ambitious crimelord of Exaron. Erebor is the figurehead of the Wolf Gang, though he does not pull the strings as he is the lead enforcer of his master, Zurroh. ◼ Racharr A Wookiee Mechanic ◼ Korrina A young Togruta and droidsmith. ◼ R4-F0 A timid astromech droid. ◼ Dakka and Druggat Twin Besalisk brothers, Dakka works as hired muscle while Druggat is a bookkeeper and credit launderer. ◼ T-3XX A hodge-podge droid made from the chassis of a former KX-series security droid and rebuilt using parts from Federation battle droids. The droid speaks with an Outer Rim drawl to the amusement of Korrina and is an immaculate shot. ◼ Renan A narglatch that was gifted to Zurroh as tribute. It has since become his favourite pet and acts as a mount. Renan wears a custom armoured harness to protect him in battle. ◼ Cofa Another tribute pet, Cofa is a colourful bat-squirrel from the exotic world of Tevel. ◼ Maengun A Codru-ji who was given to the Wolf as a young wyrwulf, Maengun was fiercely loyal to Zurroh even in her juvenile hexapedal canine form and has been unwavering in that loyalty since maturing. Personally trained by Zurroh in numerous forms of combat, the four-armed woman is a dangerous adversary and acts aS both body guard and apprentice to the Shistavanen. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G _________________________________________________________ [+] - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ -

H I S T O R Y H I S T O R Y ________________________________________________________________________________________ "So you want to know about the Wolf, eh?" The dug took another chug of his drink, the foamy lager spilling down either side of his long snout. Clearly, the bartender should have cut the drunk off several drinks ago, but he hadn't and now the inquiring mind was stuck sitting across an all too small table, the wafting odour of stale ale and frog breath cutting through the dense stench of the bar itself. Which was impressive given the number or workers from both the mines and the fields making up its patrons. "Not much is known about the Wolf, some say he's a veteran of some kind. Fought in the Clone Wars he did." The dug continued, clutching a shift token tightly between his three fingers before twirling it out of habit. A lucky token, though it was ironic to call it that since the dug never won. It was something of a problem for him. He owed money to several powerful people, the Mining Guild among them. "When the Wolf arrived on Exaron, there was a power vacuum in the underworld. He was able to seize power quickly, almost in a way some would call... Unnatural." The dug spat into his drink before hungrily slurping a fried gorg leg. "Usurped right from beneath a Hutt, managed to even turn the Hutt to his side. Downright, eerie some would say." "Exaron is in the midst of a class war it is, the Mining Guild, Arcon Multinode Agricorp, the rich and the elite versus the working class. Problem is, the Wolf enlisted the downtrodden and the impoverished and they love him for it. The Wolf treats them with respect, the respect the galaxy refuses to give them. It makes them loyal, it makes them willing to kill for him." The dug wiped the back of his hand across his face. "The question is why do you want to find the Wolf? If'n you be wantin' to kill him, get in line or save yourself the time now and lie down in a ditch. The Wolf has had more attempts on his life than a droid could count." A sneer cross the dug's snout. "They all failed." He laughed heartily into his drink before looking back at the individual across the table from him. "But if you're looking to join, well then lad, you're in luck. The Wolf and his associates are always looking for loyal talent. Keyword there being loyal. The inner circle, his closest, they vet the new talent. They're also a fearsome group, there's the fearsome Codru-ji lass, the Besalisk Brothers, a Wookiee and worst of all, the Hutt turned enforcer." The dug shuddered. "You do not want to be on the receiving end of that one's vibro-halberd." A B I L I T I E S, S K I L L S, & W E A K N E S S E S A B I L I T I E S, S K I L L S, & W E A K N E S S E S ________________________________________________________________________________________ A B I L I T I E S S K I L L S W E A K N E S S E S

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Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

Urban Fantasy /Modern meets Magic
Prophecy telling of a 'saviour' being born.
Paranoia and pandemonium reaches across the world, leaders are threatened, riots proclaiming the Messiah.
Pregnant women being assassinated, newborns seized in the night.
Protection of the Child of Fate falls upon a group of reluctant guardians who have the child thrust upon them and now can't trust anyone and must question everything about the world they knew and the burden they now bear.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

ELM
ELM

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_{^{"The grass is always greener before you die"}}

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C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ Elmira Heloise Canovis _________________________________________________________ November 11th, 2004 | 24 | Caucasian _________________________________________________________ Single | Female | Asexual _________________________________________________________ Saranac Lake | New York | United States _________________________________________________________ House | N/A C H A R A C T E R S T A T S C H A R A C T E R S T A T S _________________________________________________________ ◼ B U I L D || Descriptor(s) ◼ H A I R C O L O U R || Brunette ◼ E Y E C O L O U R || Hazel Green ◼ H E I G H T || 5’6” ◼ W E I G H T || 119 pounds ◼ S C A R S || N/A ◼ T A T T O O S || Patchwork ◼ P I E R C I N G S || Ears, Nose ◼ O T H E R || N/A

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T ________________________________________________________________________________________ Thorns Elmira’s story originally took place in the mountainous regions of northern New York in a small town called Saranac Lake. She was birthed as an only child, one was practically all they could have. Her mother was a botanist, living a life dedicated to the study of plants and its pollinators when she was fully enrolled as a professor at the local university. Now, instead, she was a stay at home mom and was either found in the garden she harvested throughout the year until winter or inside devoting herself to her daughter. Despite having a green thumb, that was all that manifested itself in terms of latent abilities. There was no hype-gene to be had within, regardless of how many particles she soaked in like a sponge. There was a tinge of mourning and loss within her that she would never let flourish, but she had higher hopes for her daughter. Elmira’s father on the other hand had been a benefactor of the hype-gene and had his power coalesce when he hit puberty. His life resided in the natural sciences, with wildlife and the world of conservation. The effects of the hype-gene and their role in the environment was a novel new study in the field they had not accounted for prior to the inception of hyperhumans. His role was determining if there were possibilities to gene splice the hype-gene from humans into that of fauna and maybe later on, flora. The Canovis’ had their hands full in terms of academia and research which led to little time to usher in a child. It wasn’t until his work sent him to remote mountains that he was able to see a life slowed down enough for the two of them to make it a little less quiet. And so Elmira’s tale began on a cold winter night in the peaks of the Adirondacks. Snow and frost covered the budding flower that would be her arrival. Through the years she was loved and taught both worlds that their parents were titans in. Her knack and passion for nature was only highlighted by the area surrounding her. Able to go foraging for fungi, bird watching on their deck, even searching for hellbenders in streams and alluvial systems. As the years passed there was growing anti sentiment in the hunting and anti hype communities, sometimes one and the same, over the research that had begun to run trials on live specimens. In a small town it wasn’t hard for news to spread even if lips were sealed and secrets kept locked and keyed. Education was tried first, to build an understanding, but failed as litigation and court hearings increased. The constant stream of conflict between the feds and the people sparked interest in other groups as well, hyper terrorists. It all came to a head when Elmira was transitioning into a teenager through the emotional upheaval that is puberty. Sentiment had grown so strong, protestors had lined the lab day-in and day-out. There was never a moment of security despite the use of armed guards. Eventually conflict was sparked when a bottle was thrown and met the face of a protester. Gunfire ripped through the streets, peace turned to chaos, only to be covered by the local news. Elmira watched at home with her mother as things got worse, hoping their father would be safe. He made his debut on screen, attempting to flee through the back passage but was cornered. Fearing his safety he revealed himself as a hyperhuman. His powers ignited and caused the cameras to short circuit leaving tv’s blind. Elmira’s mother, knowing she had to do something, left her at home and raced to the scene of the incident. She never made it back. After the smoke cleared, it was said the escalation was in part due to an undercover hyper terrorists. Anti hype protesters had murdered Elmira’s father which gave the Hyperion freedom to act and attack the non hyperhuman protestors, except one that wasn’t a protester , an innocent wife and mother. Once the news was relayed to Elmira and only days after the funeral of her parents, her powers erupted. A last good bye and closure she couldn’t receive physically. Since then, she had a choice of the foster system, an estranged uncle she didn’t trust nor did he want responsibility of a hyperhuman, or enrolling and living with the Foundation. There was nothing left for her here, so she opted into the only other choice she had. D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E & A E S T H E T I C D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E & A E S T H E T I C - OPTIONAL ________________________________________________________________________________________ Elmira’s style could best be described as a flurry. There isn’t a time in her life that she doesn’t viciously change out her hair color nor swap out her wardrobe all at once. Some days she might look alternative and other days she’ll be draped in an elegant dress and devoid of any piercings. Most often then not however, she can be seen with a shaggy wolf cut. Most of her makeup goes into really mystifying her eyes and portraying them as her most cutting quality. Her style is kind of drab and melancholic, yet addictive and perplexing. She has several parts of both ears pierced, a conch, industrial bar, multiple lobe piercings, all sat behind a size 00 gauge. Most often those plugs are adorned with dangly earrings to make the most of her accoutrement. Tucked up in her nose is a septum ring she pulls out whenever she’s not in class or around faculty. Her hair cycles from dark brunette, to blonde with her dark roots highlighting her natural color, to a chestnut almost auburn red color. Patchwork tattoos line her arms, a myriad of rings on her hands, with black nail polish that is most often scuffed, litter her fingernails. She cares not for shaving and prefers a more natural appearance, leaving her armpits and legs with tuft hair. She is the girl you think is cool in a really scary way. M A N N E R I S M S & P E R S O N A L I T Y M A N N E R I S M S & P E R S O N A L I T Y - OPTIONAL ________________________________________________________________________________________ Elmira comes across one of two ways. Either she looks and seems a little bit annoyed when you talk to her or she looks really gaunt and disheveled. The former is most likely just due to her brooding and naturally resting bitch face, although she is rather impatient for things that aren’t of immediate importance. The latter being her inability to sleep for more than a few hours, being constantly dehydrated, and could care less about her studies at the university. She’s like a flower who was meant to be planted in the bed of a garden, in the company of other beautiful flora with heaps of sunlight, but instead was planted in a pot that was too small for her rapid growth and kept in a dark closet with a heat lamp as her only source of nutrients. As far as mannerisms go, she does have one unique characteristic. Any overuse of her powers not only takes a toll on her body, but also causes the hyperpigmentation of her skin. Specifically her hands. This manifests into her epidermis turning a light green color. It’s a few splotches and patches at first, as if you stained the knee portion of your jeans after playing in grass. Then grows into a deeper green that covers the entirety of her palms. Typically this doesn’t last more than a few days, but during that time she likes to wear leather gloves or lace white gloves to divert attention to her green thumb suddenly turned green hands.

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A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S ________________________________________________________________________________________ H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || T B D __PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION || Exoteric __SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION || Biological __POWER SCALE || TBD __THREAT CLASSIFICATION || TBD Elmira’s superhuman ability has manifested in the last reminder she has of her parents, florakinesis. In this ability she is able to control the realm of flora and its kingdoms adjacent or otherwise. The power itself has many properties and functions that are only limited by the imagination of the user. Elmira has direct control of the growth and manipulation of current flora on the landscape or those yet fully developed. This takes forms in flowers, roots, seeds, fruit, trees, briars, etc. She directly fuses the flora with HZE ions and allows for the telepathic and physical control of the plants she summons. When she summons plants she also has the ability to manipulate the properties that flowers have, such as their pollen and the ways they transport their pollen i.e. catapults. There’s also the nature of flowers that emit toxic fumes or contain poisonous matter that she can capitalize on such as hemlock or oleander. She can also control flora in different environments, such as the creation and formation of algae blooms in water, thus being able to create toxins that are harmful to people and animals. Or being able to use heat and fires to allow certain cones to release their seeds. Other applications include using allelochemicals from plants to impede or stop the growth of other organic matter. While her power is mainly used for offensive feats, she can also use the healing nature of plants to bolster her supportive and defense role if need be. Her applications with flora are seemingly endless with constructs, carnivorous plants, etc. Mother Nature would be proud. L I M I T A T I O N S || T B D Elmira’s limitations center around a few things. The most prevalent is the one in regards to sizing in her structures. The spawning of a few flowering plants and vines is no cause for wear or tear on Elmira’s body or energy levels. However, if she were to put all of her power into spawning a nativity of trees or roots so robust and large they could weather an explosion or topple a building then it would put considerable strain on her body and dominate her consciousness to keep it in play. The other limitations that coincide with her power is what she can control with her hands. Since she can control flora with her mind and touch she uses her arms and feet as a way to create that tethered connection. So anything that requires more than what she can accomplish with two hands is beyond her reach at the moment. An example would be one hand controlling the movement and direction of her plants while the other sprouts flowers from said plants. W E A K N E S S E S || T B D Elmira suffers the same weakness in her powers as flora does in the real world. Most of her plants are weak to fire, cold climates, freezing conditions, lack of sunlight, carbon dioxide as a resource, and the rapid growth and aging of her plants that cause them to wither and die. The amount of each that is needed to thwart her plants is based on application, but is a ratio. While these are her weaknesses she likes to believe nature's bounty has some answers to some.

S K I L L S & T A L E N T S S K I L L S & T A L E N T S _________________________________________________________ S K I L L S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ F I E L D G U I D E || Elmira is a compendium of knowledge in relation to the natural world. She can perfectly identify which wild plants and mushrooms are edible and poisonous. Which animal left what tracks. And what plants can be used for medicinal purposes but topical and ingestible. ◼ S U R V I V A L I S T || Elmira was born in the woods and raised in it. She can forage for herself, can build structurally sound primitive living arrangements with wood and vines. She's an accomplished hunter in both rifle and bow. A sound fly fisher. And an amateur trapper. If anyone could survive with nothing but their clothes, it would be Elmira. T A L E N T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ I L L U S T R A T I O N || Elmira is a rather gifted artist. She began her artistry when she was young as she was always fascinated with the number of field guides that her parents had. She can draw anything from people, to plants, to scientific illustrations, and even food for recipes. Her art from memory is one of her other prized talents. C H A R A C T E R A R S E N A L C H A R A C T E R A R S E N A L _________________________________________________________ A T T I R E ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ J U N I P E R B E A D S || Elmira wears a bracelet that is made of dried juniper berries also known as ghost berries to the Navajo people. It's meant to provide protection against evil and is the namesake of her mother, Juniper. I T E M ( S ) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ C O W B O Y K I L L E R || The only thing that keeps her sane and her plants employed is her addiction to nicotine. She carries with her a wooden cigarette box made of American Elm, that has Marlboro reds inside. With the case is a zippo lighter passed down to her engraved with the skull of a gray fox, her fathers favorite. T O O L ( S ) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ P R U N I N G S H E A R S || A tool she got used to carrying around from her mothers garden and the one she has set growing in her room. Handy for cutting branches and fruit. ◼ L E A T H E R M A N || A nifty multitool that no good biologist is without. In a nice leather pouch attached to her pants or sock if she's wearing a dress. ◼ P O C K E T K N I F E || Self Explanatory, another good tool used in the field. Also you're run of the mill protection tool. A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S _________________________________________________________ [+] - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Elmira can be often seen walking barefoot whenever she possibly can or is allowed. ◼ Despite her thorny outer layer, some part of Elmira yearns for lasting relationships with anyone worth investing. While she finds peace and solace in isolation, she needs the ability to show her love for others in the form of companionship. ◼ Elmira always wanted to be an actress, but those that were immortalized in black and white. ◼ Her favorite food is a slice of chicken, bacon, ranch pizza ◼ Character Theme -

P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S

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_{E N T E R I N G I N T O Y O U R F I N A L Y E A R, W H A T A D V I C E D O Y O U H A V E T O A N E W S T U D E N T?}

The ember of a light flickers through her white cigarette as her cheek bones become more prominent with the inhalation squeezing the skin from her cheeks. A laugh escapes her lungs with a plume of smoke as she takes a pause to think. “Uhm, hmmm, you got me” se said stumbling through the question. The phalanx of her thumb itching the tip of her eyebrow perhaps finding an answer there. Another drag and exhale released an answer, “I’d say be ready for two hots and a cot as I always say” she laughed, “Yeah, they give you the tools you need her to thrive, but that’s totally on you. They want to foster ’individuality’ or whatever crock of bullshit that is. Just trust your gut kid, you’ll be alright.”

_{W H A T W E R E Y O U R A S P I R A T I O N S W H E N Y O U S T A R T E D H E R E? W H A T C H A N G E D, W H A T S T A Y E D T H E S A M E?}

The second question was much more personal to Elmira than the interviewer could have anticipated. Her finger flicked the tower of ash waiting to be thrown to the air. “Aspirations? Yeah I didn’t have those” she stretched her back a bit, “I was just happy to have somewhere to stay that wasn’t out there. The only thing I’m still doing here is making my parents proud. Are we almost done here? You’re wasting my time I have plants with soil that need to be changed.”

_{I F Y O U C O U L D M A K E O N E C H A N G E T O Y O U R T I M E A T T H E F O U N D A T I O N I N S T I T U T E, W H A T W O U L D I T B E?}

With her cigarette roached, she flicked it to the ground crushing it under the heel of her chunky platform boots. “Is this going in a brochure or something? Make sure I’m not in it if it is. What would I change? Everything. This school is too obsessed with that other one. What do they call it? PRU? PRCCU? You get the point. There’s too many secrets that lurk around here.”

“I don’t think you can say that Ms.. ms”

“Whatever, interviews over. Send my love to Yoshi”

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@CaliforniaState

Rejected because the character concept is long enough to require a hider

Accepted. Please move into the character roster.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

In the beginning...

Before time began, there was only darkness, a ceaseless void until the Light revealed himself.

The Light became known as the One.

The One who has always been, who never ends and who never began.

The One who reigns above all.

From the One came a seed planted deep within the Abyss. There, out of the void, grew a tree, and upon its many branches, life began. The roots drew upon the primordial Abyss, siphoning energy from the void and from the Light. This energy, the Vis, rapidly accelerated the growth of the tree and led it to flower and bloom. Some branches flourished and grew strong, bearing fruit while others grew briefly before withering away, their fruit rotting and falling into the void.

There on the tree, the fruit brought life and the One cared for them all. He ruled with love and care and placed a Watcher over each branch, but his most trusted, he placed in dominion over the roots of the tree which provided the lifeforce for all the fruit-bearing branches.This Caretaker was above all the other Watchers and the was given dominion over them along with access to the Vis.

But the Caretaker drank of the Vis and soon began to think himself more powerful than the One. He began to see his position as servitude rather than a privilege. The Caretaker of Roots allowed his heart to harden and soon began to resent the One Above All. In his anger, he sought to bring others to his side and rally the Watchers against their master. Some sided with the Caretaker, and so war broke out in the heavens as the Watchers turned upon one another.

War erupted in the heavens, the Caretaker and his forces versus the One and his. But the Caretaker was caught off guard by the power wielded by the One, and those who followed the Caretaker soon found themselves defeated and fed to the void. The Caretaker’s rebellion was quickly quelled and he became known as the Deceiver for leading the other Watchers astray. Returned to the roots of the tree of Life, he was forced to remain deep beneath the sprawling tree, banished from the presence of the Light.

The tree's roots were the source of all life, but also a reflection of it, and within them grew the Deceiver's domain. A world beneath, quite similar to those above but yet different, twisted and mirrored. Imprisoned betwixt the roots, the Deceiver was unable to confront the One directly, but that didn’t end the war as he continued to use the Vis, to create, to mold and to unleash beings and creatures to his own end.

These Hellions posed a danger to the life spawned by the Tree and so the One put charge on a Watcher to protect the realms from the dangers that the Roots spawned. And so Samael became the Angel of Death, striking out against the forces of the Deceiver.

But, the Deceiver was no fool.

He knew the Light, the One Above All had dispatched forces against his creations and so he reached into the Void and drew back his allies, Watchers who had become so imbued with the Void they tarnished the Vis. With great satisfaction, the Deceiver watched the ancient force fragment and splinter, splitting into the Nox and the Lux. His Watchers became Mothers to this new magic, and it became part of their very lifeforce.

Mothers of Magic, witches, the Hexemalefik.

And the Deceiver's favourite of these was Lilith.

Taking on the form of the One’s created, Lilith stole away through Limbo, ascending the tree until she found a paradise where she met a man. So Lilith deceived the man, whom the One called Adam. And so Lilith bore Adam, many daughters, a witch’s brood and thus the Hexenbrut were created to spite the One.

And so like Lilith, her sisters followed to this paradise and the witches laid with the men and soon the Hexenbrut spread across paradise bringing with them the ancient magic bestowed by the Deceiver.

The Vis was a powerful draw for Man who inherently craved power and many sought to learn from the Hexenbrut and their mothers, the Hexemalefik. While most lacked the talent, some were marked from birth and others still were persistent enough to unlock the secrets of the Vis, mastering it and manipulating its forces through tools and other means. Thus, the Draoi were created, mortals who unlocked the secrets of the universe.

The One saw his paradise corrupted and he mourned. But Samael went to war and so, the Angel of Death descended upon the Paradise Lost.

The Watcher alone clashed against the Witches and their brood. As the war waged, the Draoi; afraid to lose their power, sided too with the Witches and slowly Samael found himself overwhelmed and driven back.

Wounded, the Watcher plummeted from the sky, landing among the humans of Midyeden. There humans saw Samael and in the spirit of their creator, nursed the Watcher back to health. But the Witches found Samael and razed the village who saved him.

Discovering a survivor, it was Samael’s turn to return the favour and he allowed his blood to grace the human’s lips. The infusion of Watcher strengthened the human far beyond what they had been before. Granted the Watcher’s sight and power, the human became a hunter and so Samael built an army more numerous than the sparrows.

The Witches were hunted to extinction and the brood purged from Midyeden, exiled back to Ünterland. Draoi were scattered and hunted like Hellions as Samael’s Sparrows and their kin pursued them for the next millennia until they too were forgotten like dust in the wind.

Forgotten, but not gone. This is the story of one such hunter, one of the last surviving Jäger. Come closer and listen awhile to a tale of her.

There once was a woman who lived a life so strange it had to be true.
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_{Location: Seattle, WA - United States of America}

Human #5.059: Reapers

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Unnatural Selection

^{| Several Years Ago}

The steady hum of traffic eight floors below her bedroom echoed in the ears of Ellara Van Abrams as her tired eyes slowly opened to the dimly lit room. The blinds on the window adjacent to her bed were once again left ajar from the previous night and now allowed what little sunlight there was beneath the heavy cover of clouds to freely pass into the room. Letting out a loud, audible groan, Ellara pulled one of her numerous pillows over her face, groaning again as she rolled about restless, vainly trying to get comfortable enough to return to her slumber.

Unfortunately for Ellara, her bladder had its own demands and there was no way she was going to be able to return to sleep given the amount of bourbon that now required a release. With one final groan, the young woman reluctantly stood, wobbling slightly as she exited her room, making it halfway towards the bathroom before pausing to realize she wasn’t wearing any pants. Leaning against the wall, Ellara pressed a hand to her pounding head as she focused her hearing, listening to the apartment. While she could hear Mrs. Sinclair’s pot boiling three doors down, she couldn’t hear Natalie’s breathing which meant that in this moment, she thankfully had the apartment to herself.

Finishing her trip to the bathroom, Ellara stumbled her way back down the hall and into the kitchen. Rummaging through their admittedly lightly stocked cupboards, Ellara pulled out a package of coffee, looking down into as she noticed there was only enough left for one. With a shrug, she emptied the box, brewing herself a cup. Walking to the fridge, Ellara grabbed a pen before quickly scribbling ‘kahfi’ with a sad face on the roommates’ ‘Out Of’ list.

Sitting down with the freshly brewed mug, Ellara noted an open bottle of Jack’s sitting out on the table. Assuming it could only have been hers as she had never seen Natalie so much as take a shot in the eight months they’d been living together, Ellara absently poured a portion of the bottle into her mug before taking a long, loud sip.

The ring of her cellphone caused Ellara to jump as her hands immediately went to her thighs only to slap against bare skin as she was once again reminded about her current lack of pants. Honing in on the sound, Ellara slowly stood as she walked out of the kitchen into the apartment’s modest living room, a confused look crossing her face as she spotted her discarded jeans atop the back of the old recliner Natalie had somehow managed to bring up eight flights of stairs.

Grabbing the jeans, Ellara lazily flopped over the arm of the chair as she pulled the scratched phone out of the backpocket, quickly sliding her thumb across the screen pressing the device to her shoulder with her cheek.

“Hello.” She answered flatly, having not bothered to look at the number before doing so.

“Hello,” The familiar male voice replied as Ellara felt her cheeks flush, her hands curling into fists as the person on the other end continued to speak. “I’m looking to speak to Ellara Van Abrams, is this her?” He asked as Ellara quickly snapped back.

“What the hell do you want?” Even after seven years, the pain of being kicked out by her Uncle was still a raw nerve.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Her Uncle replied dryly, Ellara could practically hear his eyes rolling through the phone as she sat up in her chair. “Glad to see you’re as charming as ever.”

“You aren’t just calling out of the blue to banter with me, Uncle Thomas.” Ellara retorted. “If you could get to the damn point and quite wasting both of our fuckin’ time that’d be peachy.”

“Being rid of you was the best decision of my life, if I had done it sooner your Aunt, God rest her soul,” He paused as Ellara seethed, “Might still be alive today.”

“What do you fuckin’ want!” Ellara screamed into the phone, at this point she was now standing in the middle of the room, practically holding the phone in front of her. The man on the other end went quiet, several silent moments passing before he spoke again.

“Your father sent me something.” He stated, Ellara freezing as she heard the words. “Well, a whole lot of something and I don’t really want it. It rightfully belongs to you and the fewer things I have to do with you Van Abrams the better.”

“W-what...” Ellara paused, her voice cracking as she swallowed hard before speaking again. “What is it?”

“It’s a crate, large but still of a size I can fit it in the back of my truck.” Thomas replied, “I know you’re living in Seattle now, I can have it there by the end of the week.” He continued, “Do you have a place I can send it?” He asked.

“Yes.” Ellara replied flatly, her answer hanging in the air as Thomas waited on the other end of the line.

“I need the address, Ellara.”

“One twenty-” She started before suddenly pausing. “No, wait, actually can you send it to my work?” Ellara asked.

“If you give me the address.” He repeated once again as Ellara quickly punched the ‘Tír na nÓg’ into Google, selecting the address before dropping it into a text.

“I just sent it to you.” Ellara replied.

“I’ll make sure it goes out today,” Thomas said, pausing as he went to say something else before suddenly Ellara ended the call. Throwing the phone to the ground, Ellara screamed towards the ceiling before storming back into the kitchen. Throwing back her sour mash laced coffee, Ellara slammed the empty mug back onto the table before heading towards the shower.

How about just one post-deletion thread for every deletion request ever?

Could I have the following post deleted, please?

Post