Achronum

- Fragmented - (dead; stay tuned for the next one!)

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The anticipation for the event was brutal. Jacob fell asleep at the piano more often than his own room as he tried to assuage his nerves through practice, His dad probably would have lectured Jacob if he hadn’t been travelling, another long night of making sleeping plans and discussing healthier habits coupled with a few more appointments with Theresa. He quite liked Theresa, his therapist of a few years at this point. The sessions felt more like two friends shooting the breeze rather than a doctor listening to the word vomit as they trick your insecurities into rearing their ugly mugs. When he had time, Jacob liked to bring her favorite coffee from the little coffee shop that opened in the office building on Twelfth she recommended last year and she’d bring in the thumbprint cookies. He’d been begging for that recipe since he started seeing her but it was a damn family recipe. He secretly believed she used it to bribe him into talking on bad days―not so secret anymore since he accused her as she took the first sip of coffee and it came out her nose she laughed so hard―and the waiting was bad. She had them nearly every day. He couldn’t bring himself to take off the bracelet that covered his mark, even when he slept.

But now as he leaned against the cool glass of the bus, the waiting seemed like nothing. His nerves now made every second feel both too quick and too slow as he got closer to the chance to find his soulmate. Even his normal methods, reviewing sheet music or competing with the squad to find the most outrageous memes, didn’t seem to wind him down. He felt like he read the same bars fifty times before the notes ran together and his phone didn’t get signal this far up. So he was forced to gaze out over the scenery.

It was breathtaking. Even as they hugged a turn a tad too close or an unexpected decline made his stomach drop, he couldn’t quite shake the desire to feel the cold mountain wind against his skin or wander aimlessly among the thick blanket of evergreens. The city had nothing as serene as this; nothing but thick air and steel and concrete as far as the eye can see, either frigid and biting or unrelentingly hot. Out here, even the chill of the cold mountain air soothed rather than bit and the pleasant aroma of nature―real evergreens, not some sickly sweet imitation―beckoned its visitors into its open arms and whispered tales of planting roots.

Jacob startled back to attention as they pulled into the house, his breath catching at the sight. Even his home city struggled to command such majesty and wealth in the manner this mansion did. He stumbled out of the car, legs pricking from sitting in one position too long, and he gently pressed the wrinkles out of his suit. It wasn’t anything special, just the standard tuxedo he’d wear for recitals and competitions. He slipped on his gloves, a habit he learned from a professor of his, and fiddled absently with his necklace as he followed the captivated crowd into the building. He couldn’t possibly believe it was someone’s home. It must be rental space, made specifically for outlandish occasions such as hopefully bringing together soulmates.

The thought brought back the worry as he got a weak mojito from the bar and he ducked out of the group after their hosts’ introduction, getting directions to a restroom from a server. It felt like his pre show nerves but worse. Everything he’d gone through flashed past his mind’s eye as he locked the door to the extravagant restroom, splashing a bit of water on his face after he put down his drink. He stared at himself in the mirror for several long seconds, worrying the clasp on his bracelet. What if he couldn’t find them, what if he was List? What if his mom was right and it turned out exactly as she predicted.

“You will find your soulmate. You will find your soulmate. You will find your soulmate.” Jacob repeated to himself. Third times the charm, Christopher always said. He took that advice and ran with it when he started looking for ways to escape his performance nerves. Hopefully, he could apply it here too. “You will not be Lost. You will not be Lost. You will not be Lost.” He felt a little better, enough that he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and…

Clink.

The bracelet dropped into the sink. He stared at it for a bit before pocketing the item. He was in a room full of people just like him, with the same hopes and dreams and fears. If they all had the courage to face this, then he could too. He took a long sip of his drink, the extra mint giving him a bit of extra pep, and he swung open the door, an excited shine in his eye and a bounce in his step.

Ω Heroes of Olympus: The Next Age of Heroes Ω

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Aster Damien Luxiel

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Location: Wyandotte County Lake Park
Skills: N/A

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“Nope. Not a single Zesus kid at camp. Those cabins have been empty since before I started attending.” Aster said, leaning back on his hands as he ignored Demetri’s protesting squawk. The swim helped immensely, scrubbing off the sweat and dirt from the earlier fight but he still felt gross. He really should add more supplies to his bag. He rummaged through it, pulling out one of his chapstick and applied it as he thought. Shapeshifting was a terrible indicator. Basically all the gods did in one myth or another. He tossed the chapstick at Demetri afterwards and pulled out his lotion. Child of the Goddess of Beauty or not, there was still work to do to look perfect.

“Put that on. I can practically hear your lips cracking. It hurts my soul. You too, Jackson. Angie actually takes decent care but the canyons will distract me tonight.” Aster demanded as he rubbed the lotion into his hands, tossing the bottle into his bag. A smug grin tugged itself over his lips. “If you’re one of Zeus’s children, then I struck gold. Me, single handedly bringing in one of the big guy’s kids and after I saved him from a cyclops. I do love being me.” Aster sighed happily, checking his reflection out of habit. His grin tugged downwards into a thoughtful frown. “No other useful clues? How’d you get your hands on celestial bronze? I doubt you just stumbled across it.”

The Gifted - Concluded

James Kingston

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Location: The Mutant Underground (F7)
Skills: Kickboxing

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---

James took a step to the side after the ice ball slammed into the blaster’s crotch, something that made James grimace in sympathy, and the girl planted her foot in the guy’s face. Solid hit. He shot her a grin and chuckled. Not going to lie, he thought she might be the kind of girl to sit back and shoot ice from the back lines. He liked this side of her quite a bit. “Damn straight. Lets kick this guy’s ass.” James laughed and launched himself at him.

Again, he missed with a left hook. He’d hoped to compound on Leighton’s wrk but he could work with this. He let the momentum take him around again, his foot connecting with the man’s leg but the lack of response broke the movement and James swung awkwardly at the torso, the poorly aimed blow just glancing off the man. He didn’t seem any worse for James’s efforts and that had him more than a bit worried.

---

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Requiem

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Location: The Hellfire Club (D3)
Skills: Vocal Hypnosis

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Apparently, his first command hadn’t quite settled in the way he wanted. She completely ignored the fire and moved on to try and seduce the energy blasting buffoon. An odd way to interpret that command but if it did the trick, so be it. Some brat went flying as Anastasia chided him. All this chaos was making his head hurt. Or maybe that was glimpse as she snagged a hold of him through his mind. He could feel his body frozen but he discovered his mouth still worked as an unbidden snarl escaped when the fire caught his arms. He fought against the hold, panic rising.

“Put out this fire!” Requiem demanded of the room, feeling the command settle in Glimpse, Emma, and Sapphire’s minds. The panic was threatening to rise, not being able to move putting him on the verge of a panic attack. He felt the mark on his leg burn, a phantom pain from another time coming back at the turn of events. Anger was mingling with panic. Once the fire was out, he’d put a bullet in her head and use her corpse to end this fight.

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

Aetherically Advanced Thaumaturge WIP

Kajin Najin

_ＮＡＭＥ
Kakajin Nanajin (Goes by Kajin Najin in the presence of non-dunesfolk)

_ＲＡＣＥ
Lalafell

_ＣＬＡＮ
Dunesfolk

_{ＢＩＲＴＨＰＬＡＣＥ}
Drybone, Thanalan

_{ＯＣＣＵＰＡＴＩＯＮ}
Member of Azyema’s Eyes

_{ＳＯＵＬ ＣＲＹＳＴＡＬ}
Black Mage

_{ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ}

Screen Shot: Order outfit

Casual Clothing

Kajin stands at a fun sized 2' 10", the runt of the family, though he carries himself as if he was five times taller. Vibrant long pink hair with shocks of white make him stand out against the dark golds, greys, and blacks of the city. His eyes match his hair and he wears a jewel in the middle of his forehead to signify his zodiac in accordance to dunesfolk tradition. He wears loose breathable robes, all with a simple two tone color scheme. He isn't one for fashion and sometimes wears a simple tunic and breech combo if he plans to spend the day relaxing. He does enjoy braiding flowers in his hair when he doesn't have it pulled back in a bun.

His staff however is a matter of pride. In accordance to the traditions of his family, he was gifted a staff when he came of age. Created with meticulously carved voidsent bones-horns of a gargoyle topping a bone from an ogre-and set with a tiny and an Eye of Fire, every part of it is meant to draw aether in with efficiency. Kajin's family passes down the technique from generation to generation and each of his siblings carries one (with the exception of Shishijin) with a different elemental eye.

_{ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ}
Kajin is ambitious and creative, always thinking about the next step, the next challenge. He doesn’t understand the concept of shame, just as likely to burn his obstacles away and storm through the ashes with lightning and ice as he is to break down and cry until someone feels enough pity to help him or awkward enough to get out of his way. His obsession with aetherology often leads him to libraries and studies at al hours of the night and if given the opportunity, will work himself without food or sleep for as long as possible.

Despite his passion driven obsession, the first thing that always comes first is family. Once he has accepted someone as his own, they’re stuck with him for life. He is clearly the youngest of his own flesh and blood but his annoyance is outstripped by his protectiveness, barely needing a reason to bring down the full wrath of his arcane might against whoever slighted his kin. Unfortunately that brings with it a minor abandonment complex, ready to blow something up if his kin vanishes without giving him time to emotionally prepare.

_{ＢＩＯＧＲＡＰＨＹ}

Biography

Before the Calamity, the Golden Bazaar dominated Eastern Thanalan as the primary stopping point between Ul’dah and Gridanna for those without airship permits. A bustling town of merchants, locals and transients, the small hamlet provided anything a traveling caravan could need, from a place to rest your head to chocobo feed to repair services to a touch of entertainment for the oft encouraged longer stays. Anything that happened in the least acrid region of Thanalan was often launched out of this gathering place and housed nearly all the regions local’s, including the members of the Church of Saint Adama Landama who maintained one of Thanalan’s largest lichyards.

Unfortunately, the lichyard’s size became an unexpected problem. The few ponds that the settlement housing the lichyard derived its name from were at risk of contamination from the rotting corpses of those interred due to the heavy rainfall the region tended to experience. Poor organization and insufficient field research put early graves, and thus newer ones that spiraled out from the originals, too close to the water source and the rains recent began bringing some of the sealed diseases in the region’s primary drinking sources. In a bid to correct their mistake in the most cost efficient manner, the Church reached out to the Order of Nald’thal for training in their funeral rituals that should cleanse the bodies of their impurities.

The Order refused. Mumuepo, leader of the Thaumaturge’s guild at the time, threw out the request because a lack of donations to Thal’s church, despite the lichyard demanding the entirety of the Church’s resources. In a panic, the church reached out to anyone willing to help and they received it from an unexpected place.

Kikisuki Lelesuki answered the call, an aetherically advanced thaumaturge whose lineage could be traced back to before the fall of Sil’dah. Her family roamed the Thanalan desert, wandering on the backs of adamantoises, and used their ancient traditions of black magic and thaumaturgy to help those who struggle to help themselves. Kikisuki arrived shortly after the Order’s denial and taught several members of the Church the foundations of Thaumaturgy, helping them purge the afflicted corpses with fire and ice and lightning. Fofojin Sisijin, a gravedigger Kikisuki selected due to naturally elevated aetheric reserves, fell in love with the wandering thaumaturge and courted her for nearly two years before she returned his feelings.

The pair ended up giving birth to four children, two girls and two boys, most with the Lelesuki’s natural inclination for aetherial manipulation and their father’s high aetheric reserves. His older sisters, Lilijin and Shishijin, twins and the oldest siblings, followed closely by Papajin and then finally himself. Lilijin commanded the family’s natural magical prowess, honing her abilities under her mother’s tutelage and eventually leaving Drybones to join the extended Lelesuki clan’s wandering mission. Shishijin unfortunately was born with abnormally low aetheric reserves, unable to safety cast even basic thaumaturgy spells without putting herself in harm’s way, but after a troublesome teenage spell of bitter resentment, Shishijin joined their father at the Church of Saint Adama Landama and helps prepare offerings on behalf of those with no one to remember them. Papajin loathed the Gold Bazaar and abandoned it as soon as he was able. He joined the Order of Nald’thal, welcomed in with open arms due to his easy command of the thaumaturgical arts.

Kajin was the youngest and clearly had minor attachment issues. As a young child, he would follow his siblings and parents around feverently, throwing a tantrum if the current object of his attention stepped out of eye sight for even a second. He never seemed to favor one family member over another but his need for familial affection did stunt his social growth, always staying away from his peers if a family member was present. It persisted as he grew older, scorch marks on the wall when he found out Lilijin was striking out on her own. The family still teases him for it but if not for their mother’s timely intervention, Kajin probably would have burned down their home.

Like his brother and older sister, Kajin inherited his family’s aptitude for magical mayhem but took it further than his siblings. Where as they wielded it as a tool, as something to be used when necessary, Kajin loved magic. He loved the feeling of coaxing form from aether and sending it flying in an explosion of pure will. He hung desperately to his mother’s lessons, always begging for more, pushing his limits as far as they go, and as he got older, started his own experimentation into the arts. If anyone as much as whispered the word aether, Kajin would be there, spouting ideas and concepts before anyone realized what mishap they’d brought on themselves.

The Calamity struck just after Papajin struck off on his own, Kajin’s clinginess once again resulting in an irritable outburst of fire and lightning but this time outside of the home. The extended family scurried around the desert for days, putting down raging sprites and creatures whipped into a frenzy by the horrific events that threatened the safety of the people of Thanalan. Kajin, his parents, and Shishijin watched as the Burning Wall practically exploded with malformed aether and the world burned before them. Many suns passed as they put out fire after fire in Eastern Thanalan, each one burning with Bahamaut's unusually concentrated aether. They rotated, exposure to the intense aether sicking them, as the smothered them with ice and dispersed the aether as best they could.

Two years passed with no word from Papajin. Lilijin made sure to check in afterwards but hurried back with their grandmother. The rest were so busy with the increased dead that it wasn’t until Kajin made the effort to go to Ul’dah and practically break down the Order’s door that he discovered Azyma’s Eyes, an organization dedicated to quelling the turbulent aether and creating safe guards to prevent such widespread devastation from happening again. His brother was at the helm of Ul’dah’s chapter, practically drowning in work. Not that that stopped Kajin from crying in front of his colleagues, to remind him he had a family who was worried sick of course, and then he demanded he be involved. It took nearly six moons and a handful of bells to get Papajin to accept his help, not to mention several letters begging their parents to help because Kajin has no shame, but he eagerly entered the Eyes with full expectations that he’d get to do something useful.

Instead, Papajin stuck him on desk duty and adamantly refused to change his assignment. Not that it stopped the Lalafell from struggling against the tyranny of his elder sibling.

_{ＯＴＨＥＲ}
Favorite Dish: Spaghetti Pescatore served at the Silver Bazaar

Gets drunk off ether potions due to his sensitivity to aether.

Hates the term "Black Mage" because of the connotations it carries. His family practices "Aetherically Advanced Thaumaturgy" and has the proper documentation to prove it as required by the Eorzean Alliance.

_{ＲＥＡＳＯＮ ＦＯＲ ＥＮＬＩＳＴＭＥＮＴ}

Too real

The sun burned low against the city skyline. Crowds seemed to swell as the dry Thanalan heat diffused into the cooling air and a dull roar rang through the city as her nightlife emerged to enjoy the encroaching darkness, the screams and shouting of the coliseum swelling to a crescendo as steel met steel on the blood sands. For all it’s glitter and gold in the midday sun, Ul’dah truly came alive at night, her people slipping out from their shadowy oases as dancers, musicians, and entertainment prowled the streets, eyes set on the heavy pockets of the wealthy citizenry. Gil and wine flowed freely in the city, any pleasure available to those with pockets deep enough to forget their troubles, even if only for the night.

Kajin made his way down Ul’dah’s sandy cobblestones, books piled high as he balanced his staff on the top. He could barely see around the few tomes, each one weighing with carefully transcribed reports on the aetheric movements of every major section of the massive Thanalan desert. His wrist still ached with the last few quill strokes, eyes blurry as he and several other members of the Eyes made copies to send out to the Conjurers and Arcanist guild for safe keeping and comparative analysis. His arms burned with the weight, the dedicated space for Azyma’s Eyes far too far away for a lalafell like himself. Barely brushing three feet tall, more than two of these books stacked on top of each other block his vision and three made his arms burn but here he was, one in a bag and three stacked high. The things he did for this twelves damned group.

Five years have already passed since the calamity brought the world to its knees. His older brother, a member of the Order of Nald’Thal, helped spearhead a collaborative effort between the various magic guilds in an attempt to alleviate the strain placed on the resource starved grand companies and tackle another imposing problem. With the aetheric currents thrown into complete disarray, Azyma’s Eyes rose to watch and prevent further aetheric disruption through its methods of observation, notation, and reaction. Reports poured in over the years, compiled into tomes and sent out across the city states for comparison as the aether settled enough to permit safe teleportation again. Various members were now moving forward to develop safeguards against such events, including theorizing various ways to counter balance severe aetheric disruptions in the event of approaching umbral calamities.

And his own brother relegated him to desk duty!

Admittedly, calling him a shite-face, swill-sodden pile of goobbue vomit was a bit unnecessary but Papajin using his authority to crush his own sibling’s ideas was an entirely different matter! It was abuse through and through and even whining at his parents hadn’t fixed the problem. The world needed people attuned to the aether right now. Teaching more magically experienced people would solve that. After all, it wasn’t like advanced thaumaturgy was all about destruction. Well, it was but it wouldn’t be possible without the intricate process of aetherial manipulation! And that was what advanced thaumaturgy was about. Moving and converting aether from one form into another!

And there were so so many possibilities! Imagine what carefully calculated aetheric conversion could accomplish and then apply that directly to a rapid decomposition of elemental crystals across a general locale and then what couldn’t they accomplish! Of course, there were some problems with that but what idea didn’t have problems at the beginning? He got excited again just considering the possibilities, the books threatening to topple as he practically vibrated but reality came settling in far too quickly. His suggestion had been cast aside, his plans torn to shreds, and his brother punished him with a dead end desk job copying pages as long as he stayed with the Eyes. The monotony of it all was starting to wear him thin, his passion for aetherology crushed beneath the weight of scribe work.

He blinked and suddenly he was on the cobblestones, blinking as a dull pain exploded in the back of his head. A pair of children sped past him, barely noticing the stranger they’d knocked over. He grabbed his staff, a present from his grandmother when they decided to induct him into the family traditions, and picked himself up with a groan. He felt the irritation inside him rise only to bubble back down, too tired from the mind numbing drudgery to care that much, and he passed through the Quicksand to retire to his company funded room. He’d set out on the morrow to home and send his portion forward with a porter to the Black Shroud once he arrived.

He ducked into the tavern doubling as the adventurer’s guild as a Roegadyn nearly shut the door on him. It was a full house tonight, weary travelers and adrenaline high adventurers making merry as was their wont. He could see Momodi cheerily welcoming another group, blood still splattered on their armor from whatever grand adventure they’d returned from, another tale tucked neatly into their belt and a healthy pile of gil to return their good will. He felt the yearning for that kind of freedom pull at his heart, the freedom to do what he wanted without his family crushing his aspirations, but now he barely had the energy to work on his theories. Wake up, work, go to bed, rinse and repeat. He sighed and side stepped a tossed tankard.

“Oye, goobbue feed, fetch that for me!” The same Roegadyn that nearly crushed him in the door shouted at him and Kajin sent a half hearted glare and continued on his way until his books were, again, knocked out of his hands.

“You hard o’ hearing, midget? I said pick. It. up.” The Roedgadyn growled. Kajin picked up his staff instead, the anger from earlier raising its head and curling hot in his belly. Lalafell discrimination was fairly common, the Syndacte and money grubbing Plainsfolk merchants to thank for that, but open confrontation was still rare. Most people had the common sense to realize were the perfect height for the worst type of attack. As he picked up his staff, the screech of a sword drawn drew his attention and he saw the shadow of the blade coming down on him.

It was reflex at this point. The first spell any aetherically advanced thaumaturge worth their staff mastered. The sword crashed against the barrier of hardened aether Kajin wove with the ease of experience. Just a simple flick of the wrist and the aether would follow, rushing to fill the void the movement created. Kajin sneered at the “Bloody mages” the brute muttered and the sword swung back. A muttered incantation followed it and Kajin sent a spark of lightning straight into his crotch with a satisfied smirk. The crack of thunder following it silenced the tavern, the clatter of the sword as it fell from the Roegadyn’s hand reverberating through the open space. The gladiator’s mouth dropped and for a moment he was silent until he howled and rolled on the floor, hands over his sensitive genitals. Kajin marched over, fire in his eyes, and he caught a stray strand of lightning aether in his staff, his staff crackling with lighting as it hovered over the brute’s throat

“Next time, I’ll make sure even the Pajal’s can’t save your little sand gecko.” The Lalafell snapped, bringing the staff up and slamming it back down with all his strength. The Roegadyn shut his eyes with a whimper, hands still protecting his sensitive nethers, but Kajin let the aether fade and he paused just above the brute’s nose. The Roegadyn opened his eyes after a few moments to the wicked grin on Kajin’s face and he bopped the gladiator’s nose with a loud “Boop!” He turned, staff safely stowed, as he picked up his books once more. Using magic was always an incredible rush, one he didn’t have nearly enough opportunity to indulge in. He righted himself and something caught his eye. A new poster on the wall for a Free Company called “The Blessed Twelve.” As if he was blessed. Blessed with a prick of a brother. He grumbled his entire way up to his room as his good mood crumbled, dropping the books noisily on the desk and unceremoniously hitting the floor. He laid there for a while, just staring at the ceiling.

He could. He’d get to practice his art again. He’d get to actually test his theories without his family’s deraigned limitations constantly pressing down on him. He wanted to help people, like everyone in his family swore to when they took up the family traditions. Kajin couldn’t help but feel that transcripting aether reports while wasn’t hurting anyone, wasn’t really helping them either. The image of the Blessed Twelve’s crest hung heavy in his mind and he worried his lip for a few more moments. He’d practically be slapping his own brother in the face. Papajin would be furious. The thought made Kajin laugh and he was on his feet in a heartbeat.

He’d never written as quickly as he did in that moment, requesting a transfer. They often encouraged aether sensitives into the company of adventurers. They could evaluate more dangerous areas and performed random checks to verify reports as they moved through the world. His brother held no sway over this part of the Eyes. His only regret was that he wouldn’t get to see Papajin’s face when he walked into the room and discovered Kajin managed to escape his claws.

Testing well everything!

Kajin Najin

_ＮＡＭＥ
Kakajin Nanajin (Goes by Kajin Najin in the presence of non-dunesfolk)

_ＲＡＣＥ
Lalafell

_ＣＬＡＮ
Dunesfolk

_{ＢＩＲＴＨＰＬＡＣＥ}
Drybone, Thanalan

_{ＯＣＣＵＰＡＴＩＯＮ}
Member of Azyema’s Eyes

_{ＳＯＵＬ ＣＲＹＳＴＡＬ}
Black Mage

_{ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ}
Kajin stands at a fun sized 2' 10", the runt of the family, though he carries himself as if he was five times taller. Vibrant long pink hair with shocks of white make him stand out against the dark golds, greys, and blacks of the city. His eyes match his hair and he wears a jewel in the middle of his forehead to signify his zodiac in accordance to dunesfolk tradition. He wears loose breathable robes, all with a simple two tone color scheme. He isn't one for fashion and sometimes wears a simple tunic and breech combo if he plans to spend the day relaxing. He does enjoy braiding flowers in his hair when he doesn't have it pulled back in a bun.

His staff however is a matter of pride. In accordance to the traditions of his family, he was gifted a staff when he came of age. Created with meticulously carved voidsent bones-horns of a gargoyle topping a bone from an ogre-and set with a tiny and an Eye of Fire, every part of it is meant to draw aether in with efficiency. Kajin's family passes down the technique from generation to generation and each of his siblings carries one (with the exception of Shishijin) with a different elemental eye.

_{ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ}
(Screen shots WIP)
Kajin is ambitious and creative, always thinking about the next step, the next challenge. He doesn’t understand the concept of shame, just as likely to burn his obstacles away and storm through the ashes with lightning and ice as he is to break down and cry until someone feels enough pity to help him or awkward enough to get out of his way. His obsession with aetherology often leads him to libraries and studies at al hours of the night and if given the opportunity, will work himself without food or sleep for as long as possible.

Despite his passion driven obsession, the first thing that always comes first is family. Once he has accepted someone as his own, they’re stuck with him for life. He is clearly the youngest of his own flesh and blood but his annoyance is outstripped by his protectiveness, barely needing a reason to bring down the full wrath of his arcane might against whoever slighted his kin. Unfortunately that brings with it a minor abandonment complex, ready to blow something up if his kin vanishes without giving him time to emotionally prepare.

_{ＢＩＯＧＲＡＰＨＹ}

Biography

Before the Calamity, the Golden Bazaar dominated Eastern Thanalan as the primary stopping point between Ul’dah and Gridanna for those without airship permits. A bustling town of merchants, locals and transients, the small hamlet provided anything a traveling caravan could need, from a place to rest your head to chocobo feed to repair services to a touch of entertainment for the oft encouraged longer stays. Anything that happened in the least acrid region of Thanalan was often launched out of this gathering place and housed nearly all the regions local’s, including the members of the Church of Saint Adama Landama who maintained one of Thanalan’s largest lichyards.

Unfortunately, the lichyard’s size became an unexpected problem. The few ponds that the settlement housing the lichyard derived its name from were at risk of contamination from the rotting corpses of those interred due to the heavy rainfall the region tended to experience. Poor organization and insufficient field research put early graves, and thus newer ones that spiraled out from the originals, too close to the water source and the rains recent began bringing some of the sealed diseases in the region’s primary drinking sources. In a bid to correct their mistake in the most cost efficient manner, the Church reached out to the Order of Nald’thal for training in their funeral rituals that should cleanse the bodies of their impurities.

The Order refused. Mumuepo, leader of the Thaumaturge’s guild at the time, threw out the request because a lack of donations to Thal’s church, despite the lichyard demanding the entirety of the Church’s resources. In a panic, the church reached out to anyone willing to help and they received it from an unexpected place.

Kikisuki Lelesuki answered the call, an aetherically advanced thaumaturge whose lineage could be traced back to before the fall of Sil’dah. Her family roamed the Thanalan desert, wandering on the backs of adamantoises, and used their ancient traditions of black magic and thaumaturgy to help those who struggle to help themselves. Kikisuki arrived shortly after the Order’s denial and taught several members of the Church the foundations of Thaumaturgy, helping them purge the afflicted corpses with fire and ice and lightning. Fofojin Sisijin, a gravedigger Kikisuki selected due to naturally elevated aetheric reserves, fell in love with the wandering thaumaturge and courted her for nearly two years before she returned his feelings.

The pair ended up giving birth to four children, two girls and two boys, most with the Lelesuki’s natural inclination for aetherial manipulation and their father’s high aetheric reserves. His older sisters, Lilijin and Shishijin, twins and the oldest siblings, followed closely by Papajin and then finally himself. Lilijin commanded the family’s natural magical prowess, honing her abilities under her mother’s tutelage and eventually leaving Drybones to join the extended Lelesuki clan’s wandering mission. Shishijin unfortunately was born with abnormally low aetheric reserves, unable to safety cast even basic thaumaturgy spells without putting herself in harm’s way, but after a troublesome teenage spell of bitter resentment, Shishijin joined their father at the Church of Saint Adama Landama and helps prepare offerings on behalf of those with no one to remember them. Papajin loathed the Gold Bazaar and abandoned it as soon as he was able. He joined the Order of Nald’thal, welcomed in with open arms due to his easy command of the thaumaturgical arts.

Kajin was the youngest and clearly had minor attachment issues. As a young child, he would follow his siblings and parents around feverently, throwing a tantrum if the current object of his attention stepped out of eye sight for even a second. He never seemed to favor one family member over another but his need for familial affection did stunt his social growth, always staying away from his peers if a family member was present. It persisted as he grew older, scorch marks on the wall when he found out Lilijin was striking out on her own. The family still teases him for it but if not for their mother’s timely intervention, Kajin probably would have burned down their home.

Like his brother and older sister, Kajin inherited his family’s aptitude for magical mayhem but took it further than his siblings. Where as they wielded it as a tool, as something to be used when necessary, Kajin loved magic. He loved the feeling of coaxing form from aether and sending it flying in an explosion of pure will. He hung desperately to his mother’s lessons, always begging for more, pushing his limits as far as they go, and as he got older, started his own experimentation into the arts. If anyone as much as whispered the word aether, Kajin would be there, spouting ideas and concepts before anyone realized what mishap they’d brought on themselves.

The Calamity struck just after Papajin struck off on his own, Kajin’s clinginess once again resulting in an irritable outburst of fire and lightning but this time outside of the home. The extended family scurried around the desert for days, putting down raging sprites and creatures whipped into a frenzy by the horrific events that threatened the safety of the people of Thanalan. Kajin, his parents, and Shishijin watched as the Burning Wall practically exploded with malformed aether and the world burned before them. Many suns passed as they put out fire after fire in Eastern Thanalan, each one burning with Bahamaut's unusually concentrated aether. They rotated, exposure to the intense aether sicking them, as the smothered them with ice and dispersed the aether as best they could.

Two years passed with no word from Papajin. Lilijin made sure to check in afterwards but hurried back with their grandmother. The rest were so busy with the increased dead that it wasn’t until Kajin made the effort to go to Ul’dah and practically break down the Order’s door that he discovered Azyma’s Eyes, an organization dedicated to quelling the turbulent aether and creating safe guards to prevent such widespread devastation from happening again. His brother was at the helm of Ul’dah’s chapter, practically drowning in work. Not that that stopped Kajin from crying in front of his colleagues, to remind him he had a family who was worried sick of course, and then he demanded he be involved. It took nearly six moons and a handful of bells to get Papajin to accept his help, not to mention several letters begging their parents to help because Kajin has no shame, but he eagerly entered the Eyes with full expectations that he’d get to do something useful.

Instead, Papajin stuck him on desk duty and adamantly refused to change his assignment. Not that it stopped the Lalafell from struggling against the tyranny of his elder sibling.

_{ＯＴＨＥＲ}
Favorite Dish: Spaghetti Pescatore served at the Silver Bazaar

Hates the term "Black Mage" because of the connotations it carries. His family practices "Aertherically Advanced Thaumaturgy" and has the proper documentation to prove it as required by the Eorzean Alliance.

_{ＲＥＡＳＯＮ ＦＯＲ ＥＮＬＩＳＴＭＥＮＴ}

Too real

The sun burned low against the city skyline. Crowds seemed to swell as the dry Thanalan heat diffused into the cooling air and a dull roar rang through the city as her nightlife emerged to enjoy the encroaching darkness, the screams and shouting of the coliseum swelling to a crescendo as steel met steel on the blood sands. For all it’s glitter and gold in the midday sun, Ul’dah truly came alive at night, her people slipping out from their shadowy oases as dancers, musicians, and entertainment prowled the streets, eyes set on the heavy pockets of the wealthy citizenry. Gil and wine flowed freely in the city, any pleasure available to those with pockets deep enough to forget their troubles, even if only for the night.

Kajin made his way down Ul’dah’s sandy cobblestones, books piled high as he balanced his staff on the top. He could barely see around the few tomes, each one weighing with carefully transcribed reports on the aetheric movements of every major section of the massive Thanalan desert. His wrist still ached with the last few quill strokes, eyes blurry as he and several other members of the Eyes made copies to send out to the Conjurers and Arcanist guild for safe keeping and comparative analysis. His arms burned with the weight, the dedicated space for Azyma’s Eyes far too far away for a lalafell like himself. Barely brushing three feet tall, more than two of these books stacked on top of each other block his vision and three made his arms burn but here he was, one in a bag and three stacked high. The things he did for this twelves damned group.

Five years have already passed since the calamity brought the world to its knees. His older brother, a member of the Order of Nald’Thal, helped spearhead a collaborative effort between the various magic guilds in an attempt to alleviate the strain placed on the resource starved grand companies and tackle another imposing problem. With the aetheric currents thrown into complete disarray, Azyma’s Eyes rose to watch and prevent further aetheric disruption through its methods of observation, notation, and reaction. Reports poured in over the years, compiled into tomes and sent out across the city states for comparison as the aether settled enough to permit safe teleportation again. Various members were now moving forward to develop safeguards against such events, including theorizing various ways to counter balance severe aetheric disruptions in the event of approaching umbral calamities.

And his own brother relegated him to desk duty!

Admittedly, calling him a shite-face, swill-sodden pile of goobbue vomit was a bit unnecessary but Papajin using his authority to crush his own sibling’s ideas was an entirely different matter! It was abuse through and through and even whining at his parents hadn’t fixed the problem. The world needed people attuned to the aether right now. Teaching more magically experienced people would solve that. After all, it wasn’t like advanced thaumaturgy was all about destruction. Well, it was but it wouldn’t be possible without the intricate process of aetherial manipulation! And that was what advanced thaumaturgy was about. Moving and converting aether from one form into another!

And there were so so many possibilities! Imagine what carefully calculated aetheric conversion could accomplish and then apply that directly to a rapid decomposition of elemental crystals across a general locale and then what couldn’t they accomplish! Of course, there were some problems with that but what idea didn’t have problems at the beginning? He got excited again just considering the possibilities, the books threatening to topple as he practically vibrated but reality came settling in far too quickly. His suggestion had been cast aside, his plans torn to shreds, and his brother punished him with a dead end desk job copying pages as long as he stayed with the Eyes. The monotony of it all was starting to wear him thin, his passion for aetherology crushed beneath the weight of scribe work.

He blinked and suddenly he was on the cobblestones, blinking as a dull pain exploded in the back of his head. A pair of children sped past him, barely noticing the stranger they’d knocked over. He grabbed his staff, a present from his grandmother when they decided to induct him into the family traditions, and picked himself up with a groan. He felt the irritation inside him rise only to bubble back down, too tired from the mind numbing drudgery to care that much, and he passed through the Quicksand to retire to his company funded room. He’d set out on the morrow to home and send his portion forward with a porter to the Black Shroud once he arrived.

He ducked into the tavern doubling as the adventurer’s guild as a Roegadyn nearly shut the door on him. It was a full house tonight, weary travelers and adrenaline high adventurers making merry as was their wont. He could see Momodi cheerily welcoming another group, blood still splattered on their armor from whatever grand adventure they’d returned from, another tale tucked neatly into their belt and a healthy pile of gil to return their good will. He felt the yearning for that kind of freedom pull at his heart, the freedom to do what he wanted without his family crushing his aspirations, but now he barely had the energy to work on his theories. Wake up, work, go to bed, rinse and repeat. He sighed and side stepped a tossed tankard.

“Oye, goobbue feed, fetch that for me!” The same Roegadyn that nearly crushed him in the door shouted at him and Kajin sent a half hearted glare and continued on his way until his books were, again, knocked out of his hands.

“You hard o’ hearing, midget? I said pick. It. up.” The Roedgadyn growled. Kajin picked up his staff instead, the anger from earlier raising its head and curling hot in his belly. Lalafell discrimination was fairly common, the Syndacte and money grubbing Plainsfolk merchants to thank for that, but open confrontation was still rare. Most people had the common sense to realize were the perfect height for the worst type of attack. As he picked up his staff, the screech of a sword drawn drew his attention and he saw the shadow of the blade coming down on him.

It was reflex at this point. The first spell any aetherically advanced thaumaturge worth their staff mastered. The sword crashed against the barrier of hardened aether Kajin wove with the ease of experience. Just a simple flick of the wrist and the aether would follow, rushing to fill the void the movement created. Kajin sneered at the “Bloody mages” the brute muttered and the sword swung back. A muttered incantation followed it and Kajin sent a spark of lightning straight into his crotch with a satisfied smirk. The crack of thunder following it silenced the tavern, the clatter of the sword as it fell from the Roegadyn’s hand reverberating through the open space. The gladiator’s mouth dropped and for a moment he was silent until he howled and rolled on the floor, hands over his sensitive genitals. Kajin marched over, fire in his eyes, and he caught a stray strand of lightning aether in his staff, his staff crackling with lighting as it hovered over the brute’s throat

“Next time, I’ll make sure even the Pajal’s can’t save your little sand gecko.” The Lalafell snapped, bringing the staff up and slamming it back down with all his strength. The Roegadyn shut his eyes with a whimper, hands still protecting his sensitive nethers, but Kajin let the aether fade and he paused just above the brute’s nose. The Roegadyn opened his eyes after a few moments to the wicked grin on Kajin’s face and he bopped the gladiator’s nose with a loud “Boop!” He turned, staff safely stowed, as he picked up his books once more. Using magic was always an incredible rush, one he didn’t have nearly enough opportunity to indulge in. He righted himself and something caught his eye. A new poster on the wall for a Free Company called “The Blessed Twelve.” As if he was blessed. Blessed with a prick of a brother. He grumbled his entire way up to his room as his good mood crumbled, dropping the books noisily on the desk and unceremoniously hitting the floor. He laid there for a while, just staring at the ceiling.

He could. He’d get to practice his art again. He’d get to actually test his theories without his family’s deraigned limitations constantly pressing down on him. He wanted to help people, like everyone in his family swore to when they took up the family traditions. Kajin couldn’t help but feel that transcripting aether reports while wasn’t hurting anyone, wasn’t really helping them either. The image of the Blessed Twelve’s crest hung heavy in his mind and he worried his lip for a few more moments. He’d practically be slapping his own brother in the face. Papajin would be furious. The thought made Kajin laugh and he was on his feet in a heartbeat.

He’d never written as quickly as he did in that moment, requesting a transfer. They often encouraged aether sensitives into the company of adventurers. They could evaluate more dangerous areas and performed random checks to verify reports as they moved through the world. His brother held no sway over this part of the Eyes. His only regret was that he wouldn’t get to see Papajin’s face when he walked into the room and discovered Kajin managed to escape his claws.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Runa's Skills: Eldritch Magic
James' Skills: Accelerated Healing Factor, Strategy

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The pain didn’t register for a bit. He stared in shock at the hand on the ground and the bleeding stump on his arm. He watched as it healed over with an eerie calm His eyes darted between the two for a few moments and all he could think was “I should have fucking shot her again.” That was all he got before the pain slammed into him and screamed every profanity he knew. The white hot burning on his stump took over everything, not even noticing her trapping him in the other dimension. He wouldn't really understand what she did even if he had noticed. His vision was blurred and spotty but he clenched his teeth and forced himself to focus. The longer he was out of it, the more likely it was this bitch would take advantage of it.

He took a deep breath and calmed himself down, focusing instead on the situation at hand. What he wanted to say, Are you a fucking idot? would only get him killed that much faster and damn whoever thought he was going down easy. He still had his pistol but he dropped the ICER here… there… Wherever he dropped it. The pistol was a last resort. He had to get her to let him out. Or drag someone more powerful in. The gears in his head worked overtime as considered how to handle this. He was outclassed, in a world he didn't understand, and this absolutely idiotic woman was the key to all of it. Fuck.

"Lance is in danger. The last transmission I made told everyone where he was but now he is knocked out and alone on the ground in the middle of a field with people running around screaming as the Hulk smashes everything within range. James said carefully, sighing at the end of it. It was hard keeping the pain out of his voice and he wasn't entirely successful, the strain clear. He sat down, shoulders slumped as he stared at the girl. "Get on with it. Play with me however you want. Everything was for nothing if he dies. If only Klara agreed to be set free." He shook his head in disappointment.

The ex-Asgardian stared at James, her eyes still surrounded by fragmented purple skin. Logic and rationality went out the window - she barely heard his words, just seeing a personification of everything horrible that had ever happened in her life in front of her. She blamed James now for things he never did - for the rumors that swept around Asgard that she was evil incarnate, for giving her the love of her life only to set into motion the events that would take him away from her, for the prophecy that her father would die an unworthy death and that her mother would succumb to grief. She let out a scream, not even forming the words for the incantation, and she tried to let out the raw power to set him on fire - to burn him alive just as they were about to do to her cousin, Klara. But her emotions made her unfocused and nothing happened.

James looked left and then right and then left again as the girl all but screeched something at him. Nothing. He sighed again, disappointed that apparently the Lance issues was less serious than he thought. He needed to figure out what she was thinking or get that fancy toy she fected yesterday that let her open portals. Well, he’d provoke her a bit more and see if maybe he’d get her to actually say something this time. He pulled out his pistol again and fired two shots, missing wildly, and shrugged. That shoud be enough to rile her up some more. Maybe she’d take offense to the gun and deal with that next. Might buy him some more time to figure out how to redirect her.

“Oh look at that. We both suck at this.” James drawled sarcastically as he put the pistol on the ground next to him. “Though if you’re going to slaughter me and send me to whatever hellish realm you think I’m going to, mind telling me why? I shot you, thats fair, but this is a lot of anger for just being shot. I thought Asgardians were used to battle wounds.”

Runa flung a disc of magical energy at James, hoping to decapitate him. However, her frisbee skills needed some work as she just gave him a slight graze, resulting in a tiny cut on the neck, and the magical disc then whizzed off into the distance. "When your father is Baldur the Beautiful, your mother is the Goddess of Springtime, your brother the god of Justice... And you're the Goddess of Lies, you never get happiness," Runa informed him, slipping into the signature villain monologue. "I'm going to have my happiness taken away from me. I can't change that. At least I can make you suffer for what you've done. I'll enjoy that."

James hissed as a fresh pain blossomed from his neck. Nowhere near as intense as his arm but with his entire nervous system feeling raw and brutally sensitive, it burned like a bitch. He clenched his teeth for a few moments, his free hand coming up to check the wound. It was miniscule since the woman missed its likely intended target. But her words were what interested him. He almost found it amusing, the family issues plaguing the Asgardian. Apparently even gods struggled with those.

“And what evil is that? Please enlighten me.” James asked. “Wait. You’re the Goddess of Lies? You’re telling me, you are literally the person in charge of falsehood and conveniently I’m being constantly told this entire reality is fake? So now that some mutant idiots discovered your plot, you’re going to murder me or is this just becasue someone is playing in your sandbox?” James really thought he was fucked up but these Asgardians were really taking the cake. The first one got herself captured over some petty insult and the other is throwing a temper tantrum because someone is playing in her domain. Laughter bubbled out of James and even though fresh tears fell as the pain rocketed through his body, he couldn't stop it. This whole situation was just too fucking hilarious.

She tried to cut off his other hand - three times even - but with no success. What sort of being was he? Runa narrowed her eyes, convinced that a secret Master of the Mystic Arts stood in front of her, laughing and jeering as if he didn't know about the stigma surrounding Baldur's daughter. Everything in the universe loved her father - and similarly, it felt as if everything also hated her in turn. There was a balance there. "I'm going to murder you because you DESERVE it!" Runa screamed. Something then clicked in her mind. "... Of course. It's you. I should have known, Loki - any Midgardian would have been DEAD from my magic by now!"

The laughter stopped. The Shield agent went rigid and still, eyes wide and unfocused as he stared past Runa into empty space. An entire other life assaulted his senses, one so aggressively foriegn to the man and yet was undoubtedly his. In some respects, they were similar. A few idle hobbies, mornings spent struggling in the library after ten too many drinks the night before, easy sunday afternoons finishing up a few pieces for his dad’s shop. But that’s where it all stopped. That James loved people, this James ignored them. That James laughed at the little things, this James ignored them. That James enjoyed helping people, this James didn’t care, only caring about the satisfaction of completing the next project. Emotions this James hadn’t experienced in many years welled up and, unbidden, tears trickled down his face.

James, both This and That, realized the crossroads they now stood at. Which way would they choose, for both believed their own the better. A dorky grin, the press of a shoulder and the grip of a hand, of laughter and tears all wrapped into brief moments of hurt, confusion, relief assaulted them. This James knew he would never have that, not here, not how he would be, and not with his goals. So he gave in. That James became James and This James ceased to be, only a string of nightmares one after another.

“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” James spoke softly and sincerely, trembling as he met Runa’s gaze. “You’re right. We do deserve it. The me here has been nothing but horrific. But I’m here now, the actual me. Let me fix it and then you can kill us. Let me undo what he’s done, including where he shot you.”

No part of her wanted to believe him. While the majority of her powers were gone in this reality, she still could tell the difference between truth and lies. James' statement did not give her that pinprick of pressure in her head - he was telling the truth. She wished that he was lying - she wished that he wasn't sorry and that he didn't ask to make things right. Her happy ending would have been beheading him, taking his mangled body and throwing it in front of the world as a warning to those who tested her. And while the power from the Dark Dimension was coursing through her veins and it was so tempting to just give into it entirely, she let out a breath and let it go. Her face returned to normal, no longer featuring the decaying purple cracks around her eyes - though they were still slightly red from tears.

She stumbled slightly as the pain from being shot rushed back to her and she gripped her wound, pulling her hand away for a second to see fresh blood. Maybe he would be able to help her - or maybe she would die. Didn't she deserve it as well? "Fortsett..." she mumbled, using the sling ring to open a portal that would allow James to leave the Mirror Dimension.

James watched her calm down and opens the portal, scrambling to his feet. He hissed in pain when he tries to use his missing hand for leverage and nearly toppled over. That would be a long adjustment. He was through the portal quicky, waiting impatiently for Runa. He hadn't missed the fresh blood on her. He wanted to stop the bleeding now but he wasn't sure how this whole portal thing worked so he didn't chance disrupting her focus "Come on. Quickly. We have to get that bleeding stopped before you pass out "

She nodded slightly, stumbling her way out of the portal. The portal thankfully was remaining open and would allow James to leave as well - especially fortunate since Runa fell to the ground once they were outside and back in what was considered the real world at the moment. There were horror stories about people trapped in the Mirror Dimension, unable to escape if they did something as dangerous as misplace their sling ring. While it was a great place for training or an uninterrupted battle, it also could easily double as a prison for some of the more powerful individuals on the planet with ease.

“Oh, fuck.” James swore as he rushed to the collapsed woman. Between trying to kill him, bleeding out, and jumping from place to place, Runa must have been exhausted. But for now, they had to get away. James’s specifically called for back up to secure Lance and it wouldn’t be long before Watts managed to wrangle them together. He knelt next to her, confirming the bullet wasn’t lodged in her. Thank God for small mercies. He placed his hand gently on her wound, the familiar pounding in his ears as he slowled the beeling and stitched the skin back together.

“There, you’ll be fine.” He wheezed as he caught his breath. “Lets get Lance and your cousin before we bounce. And my hand. See if I can fix that too.”

She took a breath and felt the pain subside. She didn't know if she should thank him or attack him again - a strong part of her wanted to do both. He bore a striking resemblance to one of her favorite gods on Asgard - Tyr. He was a god of war, but it was mostly due to James' lack of a hand. Tyr had lost his to the wolf Fenrir. "Thank you," Runa then said, though it seemed like she really had to force herself to show him gratitude - he did save her life, of course. "Maybe you are not completely horrible, Midgardian..." Looking around, she then attempted to locate Lance. In her anger, she had abandoned him on the ground, unconscious. It stung slightly to think about, yet if she could go back in time and do it all again, she would without a doubt.

- Fragmented - (dead; stay tuned for the next one!)

Jacob Bryne O'Sullivan

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Character image:

Big Picture whoops (with credits on the pic!)

Name: Jacob Bryne O’Sullivan

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Homosexual

Appearance: Standing an average 5’ 10” and weighing in at 145 pounds, Jacob on a normal day prefers the simplest attire. A colored t-shirt, cargo pants or jeans, a pair of converse, and a hoodie or a beanie make perfectly acceptable attire as long as they’re clean. He wears a brown cord necklace with a pearl woven into the front of it that, despite it not leaving his neck since he put it on, only has a few fraying strands around the pearl where he nibbles at the cord. A tattoo covers his right shoulder, four honeycombs each dripping with a different color: green for Christopher, red for Jacqueline, purple for Anezi, and gold for himself. He is almost always wearing a thick leather bracelet over the band that marks him as Fragmented, only forgoing it in public when he is meeting another Fragmented in an attempt to find his soulmate.

Personality: The first three characteristics that pop into anyone’s head when discussing Jacob are determined, driven, and passionate. Jacob experiences his opinions intensely and once he sets a goal, very little can stop him from getting there. Brought up by his outspoken and blunt father, he isn’t one to mince his words or hold himself back if he thinks something needs to be changed. That isn’t to say he is rude; more that he doesn’t have an issue pointing out a mistake and offering a solution.

In fact, Jacob often notices the good before the bad and just like with a flaw, has little issue in pointing the good out. His penchant for positivity and optimism can be overbearing for some but he just wants to leave the world better than how he found it, a worldview too few share in his opinion.

Biography: It probably wasn’t his first at some point. He probably has earlier ones, maybe of Manhattan in the fall or a nasty injury, but the memories of his aunt dominated his early childhood. Like him, his mother’s sister wore the mark of the Fragmented. Unlike him, and he would damn well make sure of it, she was Lost. Angelica, his mother, and Joan, his aunt, were half sisters and Joan was almost a decade older than her sister. Joan moved in when he was only three and often babysat him when his parents were out. She taught a small piano class to help pay her bills but as she grew older, her groups became smaller and smaller until she only taught Jacob. He had inherited her love for the piano early on and happily devoted himself to its play. Memories of his unsteady scales gradually growing into complex pieces played with confidence and gusto to a laughing family would keep him going when, his second year in elementary school, the music changed.

Joan committed suicide.

It took Jacob a long time to process it. His music, once expressive and upbeat, took a turn to the morose as his family suffered through the aftershocks. Angelica could barely stand to look at him. The mark only reminded her of her sister, of all the work she did to save her, of all the times she tried to find Joan’s soulmate, only to have it bleed out on the floor of the bathroom when no one was home. Every time she saw she son, she saw him withering away and dying before her, saw herself burying another family member sentenced to a horrible fate. Jacob took to hiding the band so she wouldn’t start sobbing as soon as she saw it. It seemed to help for a while; she would pick him up and talk with him as long as she couldn’t see it. As long as she could try and forget.

Jacob’s father was the reason the family held together as long as it did. Quinn O’Sullivan was the type of man who would rather die than see his family fall apart and so he worked endlessly to keep them together. He didn’t blame his wife for seeking solace in another man; he was too close to everything and he just reminded her that their family had problems. He enrolled them in grief counseling. He didn’t blame her when the pile of bottles grew higher than the edge of the recycling bin on the regular. He found her help. When his son’s music started lagging and he couldn’t play at his Aunt’s keyboard, he invested in a new piano so Jacob could make new memories. When Jacob cried about wanting to play with mom and not him, he covered the mark so his wife could bear to be around their son for a little while again. He pushed and pushed and held on as long as he could but things eventually fell apart.

When Jacob was in seventh grade, just after placing first in his first classical music competition, his mother filed for divorce. Pregnant with another man, Angelina decided to leave the memories, the fear, the dread most of all, behind and start a new life. Quinn and Jacob were devastated, especially as she gave up her rights as Jacob’s mother, and she disappeared from their life, not even a year later. This abandonment would give rise to Jacob’s unease around the Lost and his desperate attempts to find his soul mate. His dad already went through enough; he couldn’t do it to him again.

He met Christopher and Jacqueline just after his mother left, partnered on a project in music class. The siblings, fraternal twins, made quick friends with Jacob after discovering a sincere interest in music (and it helped no one was in the class for an easy grade). It was Jacob’s first real friendship, outside of acquaintances and brief connections from his extracurricular passion, that would last through present day. Christopher played the guitar and Jacqueline sang beautifully, bringing the three together to practice after school more often than not. Jacob and Christpher dated for a few months but between Jacob’s determination to find his soulmate and his demanding practice schedule and Chris’s tendency to laze, the pair quickly agreed they made better friends. Jacqueline only rolled her eyes at the news with an “I told you so” and they moved on from that.

They met Anezi a couple of years later, sophomore year of high school, when the three erroneously thought they could be a cover band before breaking out into something more. An art student with excellent skills but a less than stellar social record, the trio commissioned her for “Album Artwork” that never made it to the light of day. She still swears she never drew anything like that for them, even if she always keep a copy of her work, but she was drawn into the group anyways. She clicked perfectly, almost as if she had been around for the forming of the group. Christopher made a soulmate joke about it once. Jacob almost slugged him, his fear of becoming Lost making those jokes land poorly with him, and it took days of apologizing before Jacob finally forgave him, much to Jacqueline and Anezi’s amusement.

The four moved on from their musical aspirations pretty quickly, with the exception of Jacob. Christopher dropped out of high school and entered the workforce, later earning his GED and working his way into management. His life was stressful but he liked it, especially once he found his current girlfriend. They became the sickeningly sweet couple and the three teased him constantly for it, even if Jacob was a bit jealous. Jacqueline went onto major in biochemistry, losing contact with the group most often as she got swamped in classes, while Anezi moved onto animation, crying over long days and sleepless nights in the public workshops drawing and moving images. Jacob got lots of late night calls when her programs would crash and the others were asleep.

As everyone’s life was picking up, Jacob continued to have some issues at home. Out of curiosity, he found his mother on social media under a fake profile since she blocked his. He may have stalked her for months, crying himself to sleep over the constant posts of how much she loved her family and how great her life was. Not that he wanted her to have a bad life but he wanted her to have a good life with him. His father found out a year after Jacob created the fake profile and quickly shut it down, knowing it was doing nothing good for his son. It caused some tension but his father believed seriously in therapy, finding someone who would just listen. Jacob stayed with the therapist voluntarily until school obligations took him away from them but he still writes them every few months just to say hi.

His senior year of high school was his big debut in the world of music. After months of competitions around the US, Jacob qualified for one of three spots from the country for a prestigious music competition in Sydney, Australia. It was his first international trip and top placers were almost guaranteed scholarship offers. He purchased the pearl necklace he always wears for good luck and played his hardest through each round of judging. He performed Beethoven's Diabelli Variations for the competition, a lively twist on a more stately piece, not only to challenge his comfort zones but also because it was Joan’s favorite. Playing it for the world helped close wounds he wasn’t even aware he had. His emotional gamble won him second place and a full ride to his first choice university, the Manhattan School of Music.

His school career was a whirlwind of busy, between full time course work, working at small bars as a pianist, and searching for his soulmate. Time seemed to fly, studying abroad in germany his junior year. Although he never quite picked up the language, he spent a great deal of time searching for his soulmate since he was determined to find them. Antagonistic, platonic, or, if whatever fate gave him this mark was kind, romantic, he didn’t. He was just terrified of being lost. His senior year was even busier, putting a hold on searching for his soulmate unfortunately, but just after graduation, he got an offer to join a New York based orchestra thanks to a few connections he made in Germany. He would start in August, while practicing pieces they sent him on his own time, and in October they would be on the road around America. He couldn’t say yes fast enough.

But his plans were nearly thrown out of the window. The letter. An invitation that got Jacob’s pulse racing. After all his searching, after all his fears, after everything… how could he say no?

Other:

star ★ for Obby!
07F169 is my color!

Habits:

• Chews on the collar of his shirts or his necklace.
• Scrunches his nose whenever he disagrees with something or finds it unpleasant.
• Always purposely mismatches his sock.

Character Notes:

• Born and raised in Manhattan, New York
• Enjoys sports.Can’t play because of the possibility of injury to his hands but gets really into them.
• Drinks socially but always asks for it cut a little weaker. Got drunk once and had to fly home on the hangover. The experience still haunts him.
• His favorite alcoholic drink is a Mojito.
• Prefers sparkling water to still water.
• Likes popcorn extra buttery with chocolate pieces melted into them.
• Rom-coms are his favorite genre of movie. Gets easily spooked during horror films but still enjoys watching them (will never watch one on his own)

The Gifted - Concluded

James Kingston

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Location: The Mutant Underground (F7)
Skills: Kickboxing

---

---

James whirled around so fast at the new sounds that he saw spots in front of his eyes. Two new people, clearly not allies,showed up and started blasting. Several expletives exploded in his head, counting the number of people who would die if those pillars collapsed. The girl charged Colossus and Cayden. Colossus at the very least had plenty of experience in this field and Cayden seemed like he could handle himself. The man was the priority, taking down the support pillars would kill most of them and their attackers seemed to have a handy way of disappearing. James made his decision and charged the man.

James charged him, staying as silent as he could until he was within striking distance. His first punch missed the man’s head but he used the momentum to swivel on his heel and bring his elbow into the man’s arm, shifting it far enough that his follow up kick caught them man right in the ribs. The resulting crack of a rib told James exactly where to follow up next. Focusing on the broken rib should keep the man in enough pain he wouldn’t be interested in the pillars, only James. A nagging suspicion told him he’d regret it but at least it would be a great story to tell Casper over coffee.

---

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Requiem

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Location: The Hellfire Club (D3)
Skills: N/A

---

---

Requiem rolled his eyes as the fighting started, taking one last sip of his wine as Anastasia took her tumble. And all this banter. Did they think they were in a movie? Children, the lot of them. At least, that’s what he thought until the fire. Unpleasant memories rose unbidden, faint screams and begging filling his ears, the scent of burning flesh searing his nostrils. Whoever threw the fireball would regret their decision dearly if he got their hands on him. He opened his briefcase, teeth clenched as he willed his hands not to shake. His head snapped up at Jinx’s comment, glaring at the boy.

“I recommend you chose your words wisely boy or I will make you eat your tongue.” He snapped, the strain in his voice, though he raised his voice over the chaos, making eye contact with Sapphire. “Quell the fire and subdue your allies." He commanded the woman, not willing to waste Jinx’s set up. She resisted but his command seemingly set in and he turned his attention to the next task. He would have words with the brat but for now, ending the fight was a priority. Anastasia’s assailant was the next target, pulling his gun from its holster and pulling the trigger as soon as the intruder was in his sights. The tremble in his hands sent to bullet wide to his disappointment.

Of Blood and Magic

Interacting with: @Hero

---

Varis didn’t move away from Eris’s touch, instead reaching out to take the letter from the actor’s hand and slipped it into his jacket pocket. This was why he could tolerate Eris more than others. He always knew what Varis wanted before he had to ask for it. He understood there was a give and take and Varis didn’t have to soothe hurt feelings to make sure he understood that. The amount of times he’s had to placate some snotty duke or duchess because he needed a foothold in their territory annoyed him to no end and while he would normally take the time out of his schedule to ensure hey remember their transgression, the Count has far too many other things on his plate these days.

Varis offered Eris a pleased smirk at his words, very much looking like a cat who got the cream. The confident Eris that thought he could back him against the wall was nice and all but the Eris pleading with him was much more his style. It suited the actor much better in the Count’s opinion. He could offer the actor a brief reprieve but… He wasn’t feeling particularly generous today. The actor would have tomorrow to play catch up. He didn’t need most of these lessons after all.

“I suppose you do deserve something after suffering through such an ordeal.” Varis humored the mage, cross his arms and relaxing against the wall. They’d be riding home soon enough so Varis could afford to relax for a few moments. Eris always picked out decently sheltered spots. He couldn’t have someone think him slacking off. He nodded in Max’s general direction. “Finish your mage’s errands and we can be on our way. We’ll stop by your dorm and pick up whatever you may need for the day.”

Talrae Reborn

Willow

Health: 2700/2700
Mana: 3550/3550(+450)

Stats

• Strength: 5
• Agility: 31
• Intelligence: 75 (+5 gloves)
• Stamina: 30
• Reduction: 4U / 5P / 6B / 3C

Skills

• Staff Wielding: 24 (+5 Armor)

Passives

• Mana Payback (3) - Every time user casts any spell, there is a 10% chance of recovering 50% of spent mana. Passive.
• Arcane Resistance (6) - User and any friendlies within a short distance gain 5% spell resistance. Passive.
• Spell Essence Collector (10) - User gains 150MP whenever any nearby friendlies cast a Spell. Passive.
• Double Casting (12) - User may cast 2 spells at the same time, provided they are level 11 or lower Pure Magic Discipline spells. Passive.
• Boost Intel (14) - User gains +15 INT permanently. Passive.
• Attuned to One’s Body (3) - User gains 100HP whenever they cast a spell from the Body Discipline. Passive.
• Essence Gain (6) - User gains +100MP every time they heal by using spells from the Body Discipline. Does not activate with “Attuned to One’s Body”. Passive.
• Mind Shock (3) -Any opponents affected by Mind Discipline spells have a 5% chance to be stunned for 15s in addition to other affects. Passive.
• Mind’s Eye(6) - User gains +10 Intelligence for a minute after casting a Mind Discipline spell. Passive.
• Hidden in the Shadows (3) - Whenever user casts a spell from the Darkness Discipline, user becomes covered in shadows, grating +5% Evasion chance. Passive.
• Attuned to the Night (6) - User slowly regenerates mana during nighttime. 50 mana per hour. Passive.
• Night Vision (9) - User gains near-perfect night vision. Passive.
• Bounty (1/Universal) - User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Passive.
• Greater Bounty (5/Universal) - User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Stacks with Bounty. Passive.
• Grand Bounty (10/Universal) - User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Stacks with Bounty and Greater Bounty. Passive.

Equipped Items:

• Cloth Armor (Mythic): 3U / 4P / 5B / 2C
  +5% Evasion
  +5 Staff Wielding
• Glove of Magi: +5 Int, +200 Mana
• Cloak of Magi: +150 Mana
• Sorcerer's Shoes: +100 Mana
• Teleport Ring: 1/day wear may teleport a short distance.
• Ring of Protection: +1% to all items’ reductions.
• Wand of Affinity(uncommon): -25 Mana Cost
• Blue Poton: Restores 15% of Maximum Mana
• First Aid Kit

---

Status

Level: 15
Health: 6100/6100 (60+1+5)
Mana: 3600/3600 (36+5)
Renn: 1275

Strength: 40 (30+5+5+5)
Agility: 12 (15-20%+5-5%)
Intelligence: 20 (20+5)
Stamina: 25 (25+5)

Action Slots: 8 (7+1)
Defense: 12U/14P/16B/9C

Skills

Healing: 30
Sword Wielding: 20 (20+5)
Shield Wielding: 40
Monster Knowledge: 25
Smithing: 25

Equipment

Sturdy Clothes
Raincoat (Prot: Soaked)
Power Treads (+5 STR)
Steel Full Plate (12U/14P/16B/9C, -20% AGI)
Gauntlet of Might (+5 STR, +100 HP)
Helm of Resilience (1U/3P/3B)
Obsidian Buckler (3U/5P/3M)
Carved Kite Shield (7U/10P/7B/7C, -5% AGI)
Oliam's Longsword (+5 ATT, +5 Sword Wielding)

Teleport Ring (Teleport 1/Day)
Diluted Red Potion x2 (+15% Health)
Sentry Ward (Alerts against nearby enemies 1hour)
Smoke Bomb x5 (-ACC/EVA for small area)

Passives

Vengeful Smite (3) - User has a 20% chance to deal low spell damage to target that has managed to deal melee damage against user. Passive.
Fortress of Wood (6) - User's Natural Resistance is increased to 11% permanently. Passive.
Fortress of Stone (12) - User's Natural Resistance is increased to 12% permanently. Passive.

Bounty (1/Universal) - User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Passive.
Greater Bounty (5/Universal) - User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Stacks with Bounty. Passive.
Grand Bounty (10/Universal) - User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Stacks with Bounty and Greater Bounty. Passive.

For Honor (5/Paladin) - Whenever user takes physical damage greater than 20% of their maximum HP, user gains +5 Strength for a few minutes. Stacks. Passive.
For Glory (5/Paladin) - Whenever user takes magical damage greater than 20% of their maximum HP, user gains +5 Intelligence for a few minutes. Stacks. Passive.
Honor and Glory (5/Paladin) - If For Honor and For Glory both were activated in the recent times, user gains immunity against physical and magical damages for a few moments. Passive.

Inspiring Presence (1/Paladin) - Whenever User takes damage, user has a 5% chance to either recover 200HP or have target nearby friendly gain 150HP. Passive.
Aura of Confidence (10/Paladin) - Nearby friendlies of the User gains resistance against negative emotions. Passive.

---

“Where did he go?” Willow grumbled as she waited impatiently for a response. She should have followed him from the inn but she really wanted to have a single night in and she regretted it. Willow hadn’t heard from Cecelia since her last transmission about the sub-classes and that couldn’t be good. She takes her eyes off these people for one second and poof! They all scatter to the wind in a damn death game post death fight.

Aura yawned and went to scratch her head, but had a dull realization that she couldn’t scratch through her gauntlets and settled for a grumble as she continued down the path towards the bridge. It was late and had she simply turned in for the night, she would have probably been in the warm embrace of her hot bath. Instead she clumsily shook off the last cold raindrops off her armour. Useless raincoat. Thankfully, the rain stopped as Aura approached the bridge, clearing her vision enough to spot a lone woman on the bridge, presumably messaging guildmates. Wait - Last Genesis? “Evening.” Aura greeted with a wave, eager to take advantage of this chance meeting. “You’re part of Last Genesis, yes?”

Willow looked up at the question, looking confused as she cleared away whatever she had been typing on to give the newcomer her full attention. Willow didn’t immediately recognize the other but smiled anyways, the little crook of her eyebrows giving away the lingering confusion. “Um, yes? I don’t think I know you though. Are you looking for something?”

“Ah, sorry.” Aura said. Of course, Aura had always been a rather stringent member of the gaming group before Talrae, only filling in for a raiding group a couple times when there were certain sections that demanded a tank. It made sense that Willow would not recognize her, at least not within Talrae. “I should introduce myself. My name’s Aura, real name Ciara. I am currently looking for a guild to join and I was informed that Last Genesis was looking for a member? Perhaps you could use a defensive-oriented Paladin?” From Aura’s brief glance at the inn, most of the current members were offensive or utility. She could use defense as a selling point here.

Willow blinked at Aura for a few moments, clearly confused. How did she know even know anything about them? They hadn’t even considered how to handle moving forward after the last battle and someone already wanted to fill their vacancies. She felt a harsh pang in her chest and she wanted to cry but she swallowed her feelings and blinked away the prickling feeling at the corners of her eyes. There were still so many of them alive and with Karuu… She shook her head. She shoved those thoughts right back down and gave the other girl a weak smile. She had to make sure the rest of them could survive and that meant getting someone more equipped to handle a hit.

“I’m not sure what kind of coincidence brought you here but we do need someone. I was going to gather our guild tomorrow and discuss but it’ll be easier just to see if they want to vote someone in then putting out advertisements. I’m not sure how well we’d compete with the larger guilds anyways.” Willow said.“Do you have anywhere to be? I would like to ask you about your experience outside of this hell hole but I want to pick up a few more spells since I have no idea where our Tinker ran off to. Walk with me to the Guild Hall?”

“There was a white-haired guy in Troodon who informed me of your guild…” Aura said cautiously. She could tell that the few moments of silence for Aura was not silent for Willow. Did she say something wrong? - No, she DID say something that hit a nerve, just what it was, Aura did not know. Perhaps they had another Paladin in their guild, and Aura’s suggestion had reminded them of their former comrade. Aura would have to tread carefully if that was the case; neither herself or the guild would want a simple ‘replacement’ to an old guild member. Aura would have to ask later, just not while she was a one-way stranger to these people.

Aura gestured in a ‘lead the way’ manner. “I was walking the same way. I wanted to pick up the subclass quest.” Well, she was actually hoping she could just return to the inn, but it would be better if she got something done in the meanwhile. Besides, Willow sounded like the most responsible one out of the group, if not a sane member. Aura would do well to get to know Willow first, especially if they were putting Aura’s entry to a vote.

“One of our other guild members ran through the lightning to get there. Apparently she dodged it which means despite ignoring town safety rules, we can at least protect ourselves against it as well. Supposedly it’s a wandering monster that looks like Godzilla from what she said. I’m curious how a fight like that should go if you’re getting pelted with lighting every minute or so.” Willow explained her thoughts as she led them towards the guild hall. “As dangerous as it sounds, I’m excited to find out. Doesn’t that make me sound awful? Sure, it’ll put people in a bunch of danger but I can’t help getting excited to take down something with such an intense mechanic. Thats what I get for raiding so long.” Willow laughed as they crossed the bridge, steadily making their way towards the guild hall. As they walked, a little creature zipped by outside. It couldn’t have been any taller than three feet but from the brief glimpse, it looked like a small dinosaur on two legs.

“So tell me about yourself Aura.” Willow asked.”How much hardcore content experience do you have? Not having any is fine but we’ll have to take that into consideration when we are looking at training and such.”

Aura understood Willow’s sentiment. A desire for disaster, perhaps. To be struck by danger, be beaten down to the very core of their instincts and tease out their truest moments, and then to claw their way back up and triumph over the apocalypse. It was a weird feeling, and a guilty one many people suppressed. But it sure as hell made them all human to want to be tested and proven. Aura herself thought that being trapped in a video game was a trial enough, but she understood how many would still pine for the coming of storm clouds. “If anything, that will make for one hell of a choreograph, but you should be careful not to give devs ideas.” Aura replied with a faintly amused yawn.

Aura lazily tracked the dinosaur, but didn’t care to chase after it as they kept walking. “As for hardcore experiences... well, I did get trapped in a sewer with a bunch of oversized gremlins once, but that hardly counts.” Aura laughed almost like a bark. Sure, it was something the villagers gushed about for a few days, but it was a once-off thing with enough luck to overdose a gambler. She sure as hell wished it would stay as a once-off thing. “Otherwise? I did a couple of raids but most of them failed. Random parties aren’t too coordinated you see. So just consider me relatively inexperienced.”

“Considering all the realism the devs decided to throw in here, that must have been disgusting.” Willow wrinkled her nose at the thought. She certainly would never want to jump in those. The stench would probably never come out. “We can work with inexperienced. Just don’t want to get you in over your head on the first few runs. Maybe I’ll snag a few people tomorrow and we can scout out a good training area nearby. Arena’s are all well and fine but nothing teaches you faster than having your ass knocked on the ground by a monster.” The guild hall loomed ahead, a small gathering of players surrounding Dracion that Willow bypassed as they spoke. Inside, a small line at the counter had the receptionists working hard as players picked up basic actions and spells.

“I’ll try to catch up soon, then. Genesis does sound like a frontier-type of group.” Aura nodded. Huh. Now that she thought about it, Aura’s motivation to join a guild in the first place was to be in the relative safety in numbers, plus the greater loot when participating in events and raids. If they were tackling hardcore content, then that effectively nullified the point of the greater safety argument, and she probably was better off in the bigger guild for the more loot, although she despised the idea of having to grovel for it.

Aura yawned, tiredness now grating on her a little. Hell. It was too late for Aura to duck out now. And if she had doubts about this group, she could just back out, no harm, no foul. Plus, Aura thought idly as she shifted her shield arm habitually, hardcore content would probably have better equipment anyway - at least, better than the mediocre replacements she got from the merchants. ”Looks like we’ve arrived. I assume you’ll be looking for your Tinker?”

"No, I'll get my line, pick up my subclass, and then go back and soak for a while. I'm worn out. I'll just lecture him tomorrow." She sighed as she got in line. She just wanted to relax and everything going on has been anything but relaxing.