Bartimaeus

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

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_{Mentions: Alphard (@SilverPaw)
Setting: 10 AM+, Saniwa Family Estate > Parking Lot}

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Kittyan's tail flicked behind him as he turned to depart from the rest of the group, eager to get a move on. Deliberating was fun and all, but Kittyan was moreso a man of action than anything else. He was just about to take another draw from his carton of milk before he paused at the calling of his name. He half-turned around as he continued maneuvering through the estate's halls, raising a brow as he watched Alphard prance after him.

A grin quickly came to his lips as the blue-skinned demon-boy expressed his excitement at his chance to see the new ride. Kittyan let out a half-laugh, his own tail starting to lightly sway side-to-side with content. "Haha, I knew I liked you! You're gonna love it!" He assured as they made their way out of the estate - which was a very-much appreciated breath of fresh air for Kittyan. He took a deep breath as they stepped outside with business-to-attend strides, quickly leaving the yard with no hesitation. Kittyan thought back to where he parked the truck, about a block or two away, before he turned his gaze to Alphard as they walked, the demon excitedly trotting in front of him.

"It might possibly be the best thing I've ever seen.." He said, the already-snappy kick in his step only fed further by Alphard's contagious excitement. "You wouldn't believe how much cool stuff this thing is packin', like seriously! I've seen my fair share of police cars and let me tell you-" He continued as they treaded the sidewalk. "-they dunno how cool they could make those things look if they tried. This one, though, it's like, definitely the future of- pedestrian-" He interrupted himself as Alphard nearly backpedaled into an old lady. His right hand cast out and firmly grabbed Alphard by the shirt at his chest, moving him to the side smoothly before giving the lady a smile. "-definitely the future of police vehicles." He continued his monologue without skipping a beat, returning his hand to himself before glancing at Alphard shortly. He took a draw from his carton of milk as they continued on.

It wasn't too long before they got to the spot where Kittyan had parked - and it looked just as glorious as he'd left it. He darted ahead of his demonic companion and threw his arms to the side, presenting the vehicle to Alphard. And boy, was it big. The Crime-mobile was a sleek, six-door truck with a powerful silhouette. The truck was painted in a black color with a slate-gray undertone, and had the emblem of the BPS planted in white on each of the front doors, as well as the tailgate. Atop the roof of the vehicle sat two rows of lights, as well as a few other miscellaneous fixtures. Kittyan basked in how impressed his fellow officer seemed. "I KNOW RIGHT?!" He exclaimed excitedly. "C'mon, c'mon, let's get in you have to see it from the inside!"

Kittyan almost skipped up to the truck as he fished into the pocket of his cropped jacket. He produced the keys, which quickly elicited a beepbeep from the vehicle as he unlocked it. He levered the handle and the door popped open as he stepped up onto the nerf-bar. For the size of the truck, it actually wasn't too far from the ground - someone like Barbatos would fair just fine getting in, but those closer to Kittyan or Alphard's height definitely needed the help up. He popped up onto the step and hopped into the driver's seat quickly, as he assumed Alphard would make his way to the passenger side and do the same.

The seats were significantly more comfortable than your average vehicle- clearly luxury models. The cab itself was also rather spacious, with ample leg-room even for the likes of Barbatos or Armand. Looking into the back seat would reveal that the second row of seats comfortably sat three, and the furthest-back row, which also sat three, was separated from the front two by a impermeable barrier of bullet-proof glass that seemed even sturdier than a regular cop car. All-in-all, the vehicle was certainly luxurious, and evidently very well-equipped to function as a law-enforcement vehicle. Whether all that was necessary? Well.. who asked??

While waiting for Alphard to hop in, Kittyan popped his own door shut and proceeded to almost melt into the seat, breathing in the new-car smell as he tossed the keys into a cupholder and started to run his hands over the wheel, almost affectionately. "Hooo, we are gonna catch so many bad guys.." He whispered to himself.

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

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_{Mentions: Everyone
Setting: 10:02 AM+, Saniwa Family Estate}

---

Kittyan proceeded to move his hands to his hips as he handed off the drug to Armand, nodding with content in regards to his own contribution to the scene. The shift in Armand's behavior was lost to him, having known the Chief for significantly less time than the rest of the team. It was especially easy for him to miss out on such cues due to the distraction that was the various scents of coffee, milk, chocolate, and whatever else it was that the lovely Lorelei had delivered to the group. He offered a toothy smile to her as she delivered him an actual carton of chocolate milk.

He was grateful for the newer smells that began to fill the room - coffee was alright, he could take it or leave it, but he could at least say that he was glad the others enjoyed it, as it was very good at overpowering the smell of blood and such. As for his own beverage of choice, well.. chocolate milk was a classic - you could never go wrong with it. A perp gave him flak once for drinking chocolate milk. That guy had a nice dirt-lunch by the time that arrest was done. Either way, he didn't normally accept offers to have a drink delivered alongside the rest of the group's beverages, but he figured today was as good a day as any. He was a touch tired this morning, and it had sounded like they'd have a big case on their hands - which it seemed was correct.

He silently popped the carton open and sipped from it, his nose crinkling as he absorbed the new set of aromas. He passively nodded as each one of them continued to offer their own thoughts, shared and otherwise, the lot of them shaping what thin edges of this new puzzle they could. He was sure that they were largely thinking the same stuff. Was it some other gang involved that did this? The one who painted the mansion with these poor fellas seemed to be.. way out of their league. If that were true, the disparity of force might suggest that it likely wasn't a deal-gone-wrong or anything like that. Plus there had been an on-going audit. Whoever it was that had done the deed was either extremely confident, or extremely reckless. A regular cop would prefer the latter, but truth-be-told, Kittyan hadn't yet decided if he liked easy cases or hard ones.

His ears twitched as he was broken from his internal chain of thoughts by Lorelei's addressing him. He blinked a few times before he looked up, meeting her eyes as she continued through with her question regarding the since-quelled Kurodoji Family. The focus of his one visible eye faded slightly as he thought on it for a moment, then looking at her again. "Recent? Nah. Far as I know, they're down for the count, as it seems.. but if we need a hold on the surviving heir, that I can provide." He shifted his shoulders, his right hand tugging shortly at the cropped, brown-leather jacket that barely concealed the shoulder holster resting under his left arm. "From what I hear, we could find 'em all boozed-up in a truly lovely cantina a bit west of here. I imagine I should take part in that one.. he'd probably be more friendly to me than any of you lot."

He quieted down again as the conversation continued, his colleagues sprinkling in their pieces here and there. He nodded along to Alphard's own reply. He raised a brow as well, as the Demon presented further evidence. Kittyan peered at the sketch on the page, feeling a chill run up his spine as the eerie piece was met with a token of silence. Like Armand, it raised no memories for him, but they'd certainly remember such an image if they saw it elsewhere. He nodded once again - he was a bit of a visual learner, so it was good for him to have something to look at, small as it was. After that, it seemed they had gathered the most of what they would from the scene, for now.

He lifted his bone-ish left hand again, raising his sweet, sweet beverage to his lips and taking another draw from it before shifting his hips and looking to the rest of the group. "Weeeelp, guess this is where we all split up again!" He supposed aloud as he started to slowly backpedal towards the door, not quite turning his back on the group yet. "I'ma head out for that Kurodoji fella." He said, his gaze shifting to Armand before going back to scan the rest of the group. "Anybody who wants a ride with me, let's go~" He offered to nobody in particular. "I'll treat you to a tour in the Crime-mobile!"

Of course, the 'Crime-mobile' was a truck that Kittyan had just personally finished tricking out to look and function like a police car, just.. much bigger. He'd been talking about the project for weeks, at this point. Being that today was the vehicle's maiden voyage, Kittyan was excited to show off how cool it was to his fellow officers - he'd even parked it like a block away, to keep it a surprise. And he would expect anybody who accepted his offer to be as excited as he was, once they saw it..

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

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_{Mentions: Everyone
Setting: 10:02 AM, Saniwa Family Estate}

---

Kittyan crinkled his nose.

He took one last peer down the hallway as he stood outside the doorway through which the rest of his team currently gathered. In most circumstances, it was certainly unusual for Kittyan to be bringing up the rear - but he'd found that, more often than not, his efforts to pause and parse whatever it was that he was picking up with the ol' sniffer tended to come in handy in his new line of work. And this scene was certainly not an exception.

There were smells aplenty here. Any of them that had permeated the manor before this incident were almost entirely drowned out by the chaos that had ensued. The newest odors consisted of blood, sweat, rust, gunpowder, char smells- more blood. Being that they were around a good twelve hours old, most of them had begun to diffuse into one another, which made it a bit harder to decipher the scene through that sense alone. But it also made the sheer quantity of some of them more bearable.

Kittyan looked into the room where his comrades were observing the scene and discussing amongst themselves. He tiptoed over the human-shaped stain in the doorway as Marty began offering his ideas on what happened. Immediately, he began taking in the scents of this room as well, the older smells easily dissectible from those of his fellow detectives. He followed a few settled odors, his ears twitching every so often as he picked up key words in the nearby conversation. At the same time, he pieced together his own thoughts on the matter.

Supposedly thirty gangsters, eight identifiable corpses.. there were clearly signs of struggle, yet the only victims left "intact", if you could call it that, seemed to have taken more flighty responses to the slaughter than you'd suspect, given the evidence of a scuffle. Kittyan carefully stepped over a splotch of gore as he began inspecting the northernmost side of the room. Suddenly, he smelt a hint of something.. different.

He stepped forward slowly, sniffing out the source of the new scent as he approached an overturned table surrounded by random trash, beer bottles, and miscellaneous shit. He reached down with his left hand as he stooped down, hoisting the table up and letting it flip haphazardly away from him, causing a few glass bottles to clatter across the floor unceremoniously. It was underneath the table and accompanying curtain of random objects that he found a small, torn plastic bag. The scent that drifted from it was oddly.. sweet? And.. earthy- no, perhaps.. hell-y..? The smell was clearly sourced by a singular, half-crushed tablet left inside the bag.

Kittyan tch'd at the Section 6 officer's distaste for Marty's colorful description of the scene. Typical, he thought, of a cyber-crime officer to be a bit on the prudish side. He fished around in his pocket as his eye scanned the immediate area around his discovery, ensuring he wouldn't miss any stray tablets that may have fallen from the bag - his ears still tuned into the conversation behind him. He produced a small baggie himself, and carefully began to scoop up the other bag into his own, sealing it safely.

He nodded as he began to stand up, evidence baggie in his clawed hand. With his sniffer having accomplished its duties, he wouldn't have to be so focused now, and could get back to annoying his fellow officers. He crinkled his nose again. "Could be." He said, his eye passing over the group. "With the smells bein' so muddled, and aged as they are, I can't quite tell whether our perp is human or not - but I do think this could potentially be the work of an artifact." He continued, eye shifting to Desdemona. "There's some crazy ones out there, and they can be hard to regulate." He shrugged. "Could be somethin' else though."

He thought again for a moment, his eye shifting to the entrance of the room. "It could be a combination of things." He gestured towards the door with his right hand. "The stains're ones we could assume fought back.. as thugs're often inclined to do. Maybe their form of death is caused by an artifact weapon of some sort.. and the bloomers, well.. maybe they're the result of an illegal contract, or a curse circumvented. Could be the inverse of that, too." He crinkled his nose, trying to breath a bit more shallowly now that he didn't need to take in the aging smell of gore anymore.

He looked to the baggie in his hand before he raised it, holding it up to the light and examining it in front of the group for a moment before stepping towards the kneeling Armand. He produced the evidence baggie towards him, letting it sit on his black palm as he held his hand open. "Here ya go, Chief. Could be extraneous.. but I don't recall smelling anything like this on the street anywhere.." He said. "It's got a rather hellish aroma, though. Literally, I mean." He added, running his tongue over one of his sharp canines as he tried to itch the scent out of his system. "Maybe the boys in the lab'll get something from that.."

He'd always wanted to say that. "Boys in the lab." Honestly, he was a little surprised that it'd taken like six months for him to get the opportunity. But it was finally somethin' he couldn't identify through smell.

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

Kittyan Kelly

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Name/Monikers:

Kittyan "Blackhand" Kelly, Troublemaker, Mutt

Age:

25

Gender:

Male

Description:

In anywhere but New Helle, Kittyan would stick out like a car crash - but fortunately for him, an aberrant appearance and rowdy personality fit right in, in most places.

Kittyan stands at an admittedly short 5'7" with a lean, athletic physique. He possesses a thick, cream-blonde mane of hair which loosely frames his fair-skinned face, and drapes over the eyepatch that covers his left eye. His one visible eye is a honey-hazel color and is, more often than not, contrasted by a black mascara. He possesses a pair of canid ears that sit atop his head, matching his hair in tone. These expressive ears, alongside his soft yet angular facial features, which are similarly unable to conceal his emotions, make it relatively easy to decipher what he might be feeling, or perhaps thinking, at any particular moment.

If the aforementioned canine ears weren't enough to visually separate Kittyan from his fellow humans, he also has a large, wolf-like, cream-colored tail that sticks out behind him - on top of one final aspect of his appearance that draws more attention than anything else. His entire left arm, as opposed to a normal human appendage, is instead replaced by an odd, bony limb. In truth, this limb isn't formed out of bone, but is instead an extremely durable, muscular black flesh with bone-like claws - the source of his moniker "Blackhand".

Outside of any of his biological aspects, Kittyan seems to possess a considerable appreciation for fashion. One day he might wear a dark ensemble of all blacks and greys with a leather jacket and boots, and the next he might pop up in cargo shorts and a flowery t-shirt with some slides - one can never really tell. When he's working though, it's all about functionality - most usually he'll be equipped with some kind of dress-shirt and dark pants, usually cargo pants. One thing is true about every outfight though - the most distinct piece is almost always the wakizashi he wears at his left hip.

If it came to describing Kittyan, behaviorally, in one word, the task is rather easy: chaotic. He's rowdy, not too self-aware, and takes things a little less seriously than he perhaps should. He's not too concerned with how he should act, and has often had very little consequences for just behaving in any way he feels like - though more recently this has been challenged a bit under the BPS. He is, quite evidently, more concerned with having a good time than anything else. He is certainly the type to poke fun at others, and is known to cross verbal swords with those he probably shouldn't. In truth though, he rarely, if ever, holds ill-will against others - most slights can be forgiven or repaid pretty easily.

It would be easy to discard Kittyan as an airheaded madcap of an individual - but that would be a mistake. While it is true that he leaps at the more exciting tasks and takes a proverbial snooze when it comes to the less stimulating ones, there is an underlying wit to him. While he's quite loud as a person and rather headstrong, his time spent in the criminal underworld has bestowed upon him a knack for leveraging his advantages, be they socially, intellectually, or otherwise, in ways to undermine others' expectations.

As a matter of note, Kittyan doesn't seem to have any real friends, or personal connections in general. While he is on good terms with many of his previous business associates, some of them particularly good terms, there are none who he really hangs with or regularly conversates with socially. This can be assumed to be a result of him not wanting to get close to anyone in his previous career.

Background:

Backstory

Like most stories that arise from New Helle, Kittyan's is one with its fair share of twists and turns.

The events leading to Kittyan's life, as he knows it to this day, all start with his father, Abraham Kelly. Without delving too far into the details, Abraham took his intrepid entry into New Helle in his mid-twenties, a decision aided by his nose for opportunity. Abraham, back on the mundane side of the water, was a rather successful.. well - career criminal, to put it bluntly. The way he saw it, a place like New Helle could offer rewards a lot less mundane than those on the mainland - and he never had an aversion to making deals with the devil.

In that expectation, New Helle did not disappoint. It was pretty swiftly that Abraham cemented himself as a useful figure in the world of New Helle's underground, particularly to a powerful demon named Jhaka the Pursuer - the lord of a rather successful, and often ethically questionable, mercenary/bounty-hunter company of sorts. His involvement with this company was one that rendered his life, year after year, largely unpredictable - but that was just how he liked it.

But he'd never expected it to take some of the turns that it did. One such turn was when he found love midst the chaos and shadiness that was working as a merc. It was risky business to have people that you cared about in his line of work, but he was never one known for his impulse control. For a few years, his carelessness was left unpunished - he would enjoy a very well-paying job, and come home to a woman he loved. He was happy in life, even moreso than he was before coming to New Helle. And eventually, they even had a child.

Suddenly, Abraham's life was starting to seem more like a normal person's than a career criminal's. But it was as soon as it started that a semblance of mundane life was ripped from him. It truly was a risky business, his. Eventually Abraham found himself on the wrong side of a grudge, and an attack on Jhaka and his lot included Abraham's wife, who was suddenly torn from him. It was in immense grief that he withdrew from Jhaka's company and sequestered himself and his young son away from the eyes of that world. He knew how to cover his tracks, and he was left to his own devices.

He managed to use his wealth to make a good life for his son. And life was pretty good for Kittyan, growing up. While he lost his mother in his earliest years, his father was loving and doting enough for the both of them. Kittyan was raised knowing his father as a good man - one who held a respectable job as a Section 2 worker for the BPS. His father wanted nothing more than to spoil Kittyan and make a good example for him - things that led the young lad to emulate his father.

Growing up it was his dream to be like his father, and when he became old enough, he did just that. He entered into Section 2 with his father's assistance, and they even managed to work together a few times in the year following. But after that year is where the normality of Kittyan's life came to a halt. On one life-changing call, he arrived on the scene of a fire at which a further collapse had trapped several emergency responders - but they weren't fast enough to save Abraham.

After that, Kittyan left the BPS. Little did he know, his life was about to start mirroring his father's, but in reverse.

In the six or so months that Kittyan took to grieve for his father, he became exposed to the man's former associates. They'd tracked news of Abraham's death to his only known remaining relative, and took it upon themselves to.. console him. The distant sense of familiarity that started to grow within him for these strangers that knew his father eventually led into him seeing them as his, really, only friends. Over a few years, they pulled him into the world that his father had tried so desperately to keep in his past.

And eventually Kittyan, just like his father before him, cemented himself as a useful member of Jhaka the Pursuer's illicit mercenary company - the apple not falling very far from the tree. Turns out, being an excellent criminal ran in the family.

More recently, however, Kittyan has discovered that his ability to keep his head down never quite reached the level that his father held. The BPS had managed to track his illegal activities right to him. He was very fortunate though - for the BPS deemed Kittyan's skillset, and his previous association with the BPS, grounds enough to give him an ultimatum: put his skills to use within Section 7 of the BPS, or face the full might of the law. His choice was obvious..

To the current day, Kittyan has been part of Section 7 for around six months - he's had a few brushes with authority, sure, but his skills are so useful that they've mostly let his.. rambunctiousness slide. So far.

Capabilities:

When it comes to skills, Kittyan is a bit of a hybrid between criminal and cop.

Having spent years involved in the criminal underworld of New Helle, he knows the organizations, notable individuals, customs, gear, and anything else you'd find on the streets like the back of his hand. He also carries a reputation in most territories as a very efficient mercenary with a penchant for rooting people out of places they don't wanna come out of - something that has garnered him many friends and enemies alike. Fortunately, working as a merc makes most people malleable to changing their mind about you - it was all just for money anyways, nothing personal.

While he doesn't have a ton of experience being a cop, he does well in some areas. On the good side, he's very tactically intelligent, quick-witted, and very familiar with how cops operate - he's been dodging them for years. In the majority of BPS paper-tests, he scores quite well. However, he's not a great team-player - the whole point of being a cop. Nor does he like to hold his tongue. And he might like getting into fights a little too much. And and, he basically completely disregards "minor" laws like breaking-and-entering, excessive-force laws, use of unauthorized equipment-- you get the gist..

Aside from his more natural inclinations, Kittyan has a few supernatural blessings as well. Due to a previously-unlicensed contract with a Demon he calls "Pooch", Kittyan has a few abilities which greatly aid him in his duties as a detective. Aside from his obvious physical alterations, Kittyan possesses greatly enhanced senses. His eyesight and reaction speed are both consummately impressive, and his senses of smell and hearing are both, sometimes unfortunately, incredibly sharp. His sense of smell is, furthermore, even capable of sniffing out things one normally wouldn't be able to otherwise detect - such as traces of magic, supernatural objects or entities, or even particular types of demons.

The most conspicuous boon granted to him by his contract though is his left arm. An appendage which has, over the years, come to be somewhat of a nametag to those in the know - a nametag that reads "Blackhand Kelly". Said appendage is roughly the same dimensions as a normal arm, except that it's comprised of a tremendously durable, dark flesh that in-part emulates the appearance of bone. In truth, this arm is built incredibly powerfully, despite fitting a petite frame like Kittyan's. Over the years it has stopped all manner of things, be they knives, claws, picks, or even bullets. Furthermore, this arm is incredibly strong, even being able to allow Kittyan to throw men twice his size.

On top of all the training and experiences involved with his previous professions, Kittyan has trained himself in a good number of different kinds of combat, some of them more conventional than others. Due to the inheritance of many, many artifacts and trinkets from his father, alongside all the stuff he has collected in his own career, he has come across a good range of artifacts and equipment of all different sizes and types, whether they be stolen, awarded to him, or otherwise obtained. He knows a few different martial arts, and is particularly well-versed with katanas and firearms. His skills as a marksman, particularly with pistols, are incredibly impressive.

Connections:

• Jhaka, the Pursuer - Kittyan has worked for Jhaka and his mercenary company for years, and still technically does. They have never met in person, as Jhaka does not venture outside of Olde Hell, but they have corresponded through letters and landline. With Kittyan's more recent seizure by the BPS, Jhaka has halted all direct communication with him, but has sent a couple jobs his way on occasion. They are on very good terms.

• Pooch - Pooch is effectively Kittyan's direct counterpart on the other side of Hell's gates. His name isn't actually Pooch, but the real one is unintelligible to Kittyan - and so he gave him a nickname. Pooch is essentially a handler for Kittyan, levying him into jobs at either his or Jhaka's request. Pooch is the Demon with which Kittyan holds a contract for his supernatural abilities, and these abilities take direct influence from Pooch's own physicality. They are on incredibly good terms, and communicate often through landline.

Artifacts:

While Kittyan has access to many artifacts, there are only a couple that he keeps on his person regularly.

Manjushage

Manjushage is a Wakizashi with a long, storied past. Originally forged during the late Feudal period of Japan's history, the blade is one which has seen much reverence over its life span. It was once worn in battle by a member of a now long-scattered family by the name of Sakanoue. Passed down generation after generation, the blade eventually managed to retire in the late Edo period, having tasted its fair share of blood before finally being lain down to rest. And rest it has, eventually being passed down to a modern branch of the Sakanoue family the name of which is lost to obscurity.

In the most recent 60 years, the opening of the gates of hell has disturbed much of what was once mundane - Manjushage included. With the coming of hell to earth, the blade seemed to take on a new life, shedding the wear of its age, much to the shock, and perhaps terror, of the family that once admired it afar from its perch on a shelf. One member of the family took it upon themself to take the seemingly renewed blade and carry it to the only place they thought to - New Helle, the place that was almost certainly most-closely tied to its new status as an artifact.

It was there that the blade was unceremoniously ripped from their hands by one ne'er-do-well or another. Eventually, it came to land in the grasp of Abraham Kelly - and eventually, his son as well.

Fortunately for the blade, there are few hands it could've landed in that are more capable than Kittyan's. As an artifact, Manjushage has taken on a new life in which its abilities draw inspiration from the flower after which it is named - the wielder of it being granted dominion over the aspects of water. Any day in which it is drawn from its sheath shall be followed the next day with a thorough rainfall. Furthermore, the wielder of the drawn blade is able to pull substance from nearby bodies of water, and make high-pressure attacks or barriers in this way. They are also able to maneuver through water with incredible ease just by wearing it on their person.

Inspiration

Inspiration, an artifact plainly named by Kittyan, is one with a simple, if vague, history. Once the property of a man of unknown origins, this glove is one which was worn-out relentlessly by its previous owner in his quest to become the greatest archer known to the world. It was, according to archeologists, worn over the period of a full lifetime, showing traces of refurbishment and repeated use over at least seventy years. As many artifacts eventually find themselves, it was eventually retired, and after the owner's passing, relegated to a collector's item.

With the coming of hell to earth, though, the glove stitched itself together and took on a new, slimmer, thankfully more fashionable form. Upon Kittyan finding it amongst his late father's countless trinkets and artifacts, he took to experimenting with it and found it to actually be quite useful.

In its new form, the glove heightens the potential skill of its wearer. It doesn't enhance one's abilities, no, it simply heightens the ceiling that they can achieve. In Kittyan's case, he has most found it useful in marksmanship, so far. The glove gives him some sort of.. obscure sense, that he has since explored and gained a pretty solid understanding of. This once-obscure perception gives him the ability to measure, in particular, seemingly, the result of ricochets, collaterals, and any splintering effects of his efforts with any firearms he might wield. However, the artifact seems to largely prefer weapons that are closer to its age.. like revolvers, lever-guns, or anything relatively old - largely leaving automatic weapons off the table.

After mastering the artifact's effects on his marksmanship, Kittyan has started experimenting with how it can help him in other areas as well.

Additional Details:

- Kittyan's color code is #f7d5a5.
- While Kittyan very much so enjoys the instant gratification of playing with Manjushage, he hates getting wet - so he often dresses appropriately the next day.
- Dogs don't seem to like him very much.
- Kittyan vehemently denies any assertion that his doggy nature comes with any doggy-behavior side effects. When has he been known to lie?
- Will add more!

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

@OwOThank you! ^^ I'm personally chill with you using Kittyan's connections however you please.

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

He's not short, he's just built for speed!! >:[

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

@Lemons I'd say.. includes. He's more like 5'5 or maybe a touch shorter without em.

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

Arf arf.

Kittyan Kelly

_____________________________________________________
________________________________________________

________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________

Name/Monikers:

Kittyan "Blackhand" Kelly, Troublemaker, Mutt

Age:

25

Gender:

Male

Description:

In anywhere but New Helle, Kittyan would stick out like a car crash - but fortunately for him, an aberrant appearance and rowdy personality fit right in, in most places.

Kittyan stands at an admittedly short 5'7" with a lean, athletic physique. He possesses a thick, cream-blonde mane of hair which loosely frames his fair-skinned face, and drapes over the eyepatch that covers his left eye. His one visible eye is a honey-hazel color and is, more often than not, contrasted by a black mascara. He possesses a pair of canid ears that sit atop his head, matching his hair in tone. These expressive ears, alongside his soft yet angular facial features, which are similarly unable to conceal his emotions, make it relatively easy to decipher what he might be feeling, or perhaps thinking, at any particular moment.

If the aforementioned canine ears weren't enough to visually separate Kittyan from his fellow humans, he also has a large, wolf-like, cream-colored tail that sticks out behind him - on top of one final aspect of his appearance that draws more attention than anything else. His entire left arm, as opposed to a normal human appendage, is instead replaced by an odd, bony limb. In truth, this limb isn't formed out of bone, but is instead an extremely durable, muscular black flesh with bone-like claws - the source of his moniker "Blackhand".

Outside of any of his biological aspects, Kittyan seems to possess a considerable appreciation for fashion. One day he might wear a dark ensemble of all blacks and greys with a leather jacket and boots, and the next he might pop up in cargo shorts and a flowery t-shirt with some slides - one can never really tell. When he's working though, it's all about functionality - most usually he'll be equipped with some kind of dress-shirt and dark pants, usually cargo pants. One thing is true about every outfight though - the most distinct piece is almost always the wakizashi he wears at his left hip.

If it came to describing Kittyan, behaviorally, in one word, the task is rather easy: chaotic. He's rowdy, not too self-aware, and takes things a little less seriously than he perhaps should. He's not too concerned with how he should act, and has often had very little consequences for just behaving in any way he feels like - though more recently this has been challenged a bit under the BPS. He is, quite evidently, more concerned with having a good time than anything else. He is certainly the type to poke fun at others, and is known to cross verbal swords with those he probably shouldn't. In truth though, he rarely, if ever, holds ill-will against others - most slights can be forgiven or repaid pretty easily.

It would be easy to discard Kittyan as an airheaded madcap of an individual - but that would be a mistake. While it is true that he leaps at the more exciting tasks and takes a proverbial snooze when it comes to the less stimulating ones, there is an underlying wit to him. While he's quite loud as a person and rather headstrong, his time spent in the criminal underworld has bestowed upon him a knack for leveraging his advantages, be they socially, intellectually, or otherwise, in ways to undermine others' expectations.

As a matter of note, Kittyan doesn't seem to have any real friends, or personal connections in general. While he is on good terms with many of his previous business associates, some of them particularly good terms, there are none who he really hangs with or regularly conversates with socially. This can be assumed to be a result of him not wanting to get close to anyone in his previous career.

Background:

Backstory

Like most stories that arise from New Helle, Kittyan's is one with its fair share of twists and turns.

The events leading to Kittyan's life, as he knows it to this day, all start with his father, Abraham Kelly. Without delving too far into the details, Abraham took his intrepid entry into New Helle in his mid-twenties, a decision aided by his nose for opportunity. Abraham, back on the mundane side of the water, was a rather successful.. well - career criminal, to put it bluntly. The way he saw it, a place like New Helle could offer rewards a lot less mundane than those on the mainland - and he never had an aversion to making deals with the devil.

In that expectation, New Helle did not disappoint. It was pretty swiftly that Abraham cemented himself as a useful figure in the world of New Helle's underground, particularly to a powerful demon named Jhaka the Pursuer - the lord of a rather successful, and often ethically questionable, mercenary/bounty-hunter company of sorts. His involvement with this company was one that rendered his life, year after year, largely unpredictable - but that was just how he liked it.

But he'd never expected it to take some of the turns that it did. One such turn was when he found love midst the chaos and shadiness that was working as a merc. It was risky business to have people that you cared about in his line of work, but he was never one known for his impulse control. For a few years, his carelessness was left unpunished - he would enjoy a very well-paying job, and come home to a woman he loved. He was happy in life, even moreso than he was before coming to New Helle. And eventually, they even had a child.

Suddenly, Abraham's life was starting to seem more like a normal person's than a career criminal's. But it was as soon as it started that a semblance of mundane life was ripped from him. It truly was a risky business, his. Eventually Abraham found himself on the wrong side of a grudge, and an attack on Jhaka and his lot included Abraham's wife, who was suddenly torn from him. It was in immense grief that he withdrew from Jhaka's company and sequestered himself and his young son away from the eyes of that world. He knew how to cover his tracks, and he was left to his own devices.

He managed to use his wealth to make a good life for his son. And life was pretty good for Kittyan, growing up. While he lost his mother in his earliest years, his father was loving and doting enough for the both of them. Kittyan was raised knowing his father as a good man - one who held a respectable job as a Section 2 worker for the BPS. His father wanted nothing more than to spoil Kittyan and make a good example for him - things that led the young lad to emulate his father.

Growing up it was his dream to be like his father, and when he became old enough, he did just that. He entered into Section 2 with his father's assistance, and they even managed to work together a few times in the year following. But after that year is where the normality of Kittyan's life came to a halt. On one life-changing call, he arrived on the scene of a fire at which a further collapse had trapped several emergency responders - but they weren't fast enough to save Abraham.

After that, Kittyan left the BPS. Little did he know, his life was about to start mirroring his father's, but in reverse.

In the six or so months that Kittyan took to grieve for his father, he became exposed to the man's former associates. They'd tracked news of Abraham's death to his only known remaining relative, and took it upon themselves to.. console him. The distant sense of familiarity that started to grow within him for these strangers that knew his father eventually led into him seeing them as his, really, only friends. Over a few years, they pulled him into the world that his father had tried so desperately to keep in his past.

And eventually Kittyan, just like his father before him, cemented himself as a useful member of Jhaka the Pursuer's illicit mercenary company - the apple not falling very far from the tree. Turns out, being an excellent criminal ran in the family.

More recently, however, Kittyan has discovered that his ability to keep his head down never quite reached the level that his father held. The BPS had managed to track his illegal activities right to him. He was very fortunate though - for the BPS deemed Kittyan's skillset, and his previous association with the BPS, grounds enough to give him an ultimatum: put his skills to use within Section 7 of the BPS, or face the full might of the law. His choice was obvious..

To the current day, Kittyan has been part of Section 7 for around six months - he's had a few brushes with authority, sure, but his skills are so useful that they've mostly let his.. rambunctiousness slide. So far.

Capabilities:

When it comes to skills, Kittyan is a bit of a hybrid between criminal and cop.

Having spent years involved in the criminal underworld of New Helle, he knows the organizations, notable individuals, customs, gear, and anything else you'd find on the streets like the back of his hand. He also carries a reputation in most territories as a very efficient mercenary with a penchant for rooting people out of places they don't wanna come out of - something that has garnered him many friends and enemies alike. Fortunately, working as a merc makes most people malleable to changing their mind about you - it was all just for money anyways, nothing personal.

While he doesn't have a ton of experience being a cop, he does well in some areas. On the good side, he's very tactically intelligent, quick-witted, and very familiar with how cops operate - he's been dodging them for years. In the majority of BPS paper-tests, he scores quite well. However, he's not a great team-player - the whole point of being a cop. Nor does he like to hold his tongue. And he might like getting into fights a little too much. And and, he basically completely disregards "minor" laws like breaking-and-entering, excessive-force laws, use of unauthorized equipment-- you get the gist..

Aside from his more natural inclinations, Kittyan has a few supernatural blessings as well. Due to a previously-unlicensed contract with a Demon he calls "Pooch", Kittyan has a few abilities which greatly aid him in his duties as a detective. Aside from his obvious physical alterations, Kittyan possesses greatly enhanced senses. His eyesight and reaction speed are both consummately impressive, and his senses of smell and hearing are both, sometimes unfortunately, incredibly sharp. His sense of smell is, furthermore, even capable of sniffing out things one normally wouldn't be able to otherwise detect - such as traces of magic, supernatural objects or entities, or even particular types of demons.

The most conspicuous boon granted to him by his contract though is his left arm. An appendage which has, over the years, come to be somewhat of a nametag to those in the know - a nametag that reads "Blackhand Kelly". Said appendage is roughly the same dimensions as a normal arm, except that it's comprised of a tremendously durable, dark flesh that in-part emulates the appearance of bone. In truth, this arm is built incredibly powerfully, despite fitting a petite frame like Kittyan's. Over the years it has stopped all manner of things, be they knives, claws, picks, or even bullets. Furthermore, this arm is incredibly strong, even being able to allow Kittyan to throw men twice his size.

On top of all the training and experiences involved with his previous professions, Kittyan has trained himself in a good number of different kinds of combat, some of them more conventional than others. Due to the inheritance of many, many artifacts and trinkets from his father, alongside all the stuff he has collected in his own career, he has come across a good range of artifacts and equipment of all different sizes and types, whether they be stolen, awarded to him, or otherwise obtained. He knows a few different martial arts, and is particularly well-versed with katanas and firearms. His skills as a marksman, particularly with pistols, are incredibly impressive.

Connections:

• Jhaka, the Pursuer - Kittyan has worked for Jhaka and his mercenary company for years, and still technically does. They have never met in person, as Jhaka does not venture outside of Olde Hell, but they have corresponded through letters and landline. With Kittyan's more recent seizure by the BPS, Jhaka has halted all direct communication with him, but has sent a couple jobs his way on occasion. They are on very good terms.

• Pooch - Pooch is effectively Kittyan's direct counterpart on the other side of Hell's gates. His name isn't actually Pooch, but the real one is unintelligible to Kittyan - and so he gave him a nickname. Pooch is essentially a handler for Kittyan, levying him into jobs at either his or Jhaka's request. Pooch is the Demon with which Kittyan holds a contract for his supernatural abilities, and these abilities take direct influence from Pooch's own physicality. They are on incredibly good terms, and communicate often through landline.

Artifacts:

While Kittyan has access to many artifacts, there are only a couple that he keeps on his person regularly.

Manjushage

Manjushage is a Wakizashi with a long, storied past. Originally forged during the late Feudal period of Japan's history, the blade is one which has seen much reverence over its life span. It was once worn in battle by a member of a now long-scattered family by the name of Sakanoue. Passed down generation after generation, the blade eventually managed to retire in the late Edo period, having tasted its fair share of blood before finally being lain down to rest. And rest it has, eventually being passed down to a modern branch of the Sakanoue family the name of which is lost to obscurity.

In the most recent 60 years, the opening of the gates of hell has disturbed much of what was once mundane - Manjushage included. With the coming of hell to earth, the blade seemed to take on a new life, shedding the wear of its age, much to the shock, and perhaps terror, of the family that once admired it afar from its perch on a shelf. One member of the family took it upon themself to take the seemingly renewed blade and carry it to the only place they thought to - New Helle, the place that was almost certainly most-closely tied to its new status as an artifact.

It was there that the blade was unceremoniously ripped from their hands by one ne'er-do-well or another. Eventually, it came to land in the grasp of Abraham Kelly - and eventually, his son as well.

Fortunately for the blade, there are few hands it could've landed in that are more capable than Kittyan's. As an artifact, Manjushage has taken on a new life in which its abilities draw inspiration from the flower after which it is named - the wielder of it being granted dominion over the aspects of water. Any day in which it is drawn from its sheath shall be followed the next day with a thorough rainfall. Furthermore, the wielder of the drawn blade is able to pull substance from nearby bodies of water, and make high-pressure attacks or barriers in this way. They are also able to maneuver through water with incredible ease just by wearing it on their person.

Inspiration

Inspiration, an artifact plainly named by Kittyan, is one with a simple, if vague, history. Once the property of a man of unknown origins, this glove is one which was worn-out relentlessly by its previous owner in his quest to become the greatest archer known to the world. It was, according to archeologists, worn over the period of a full lifetime, showing traces of refurbishment and repeated use over at least seventy years. As many artifacts eventually find themselves, it was eventually retired, and after the owner's passing, relegated to a collector's item.

With the coming of hell to earth, though, the glove stitched itself together and took on a new, slimmer, thankfully more fashionable form. Upon Kittyan finding it amongst his late father's countless trinkets and artifacts, he took to experimenting with it and found it to actually be quite useful.

In its new form, the glove heightens the potential skill of its wearer. It doesn't enhance one's abilities, no, it simply heightens the ceiling that they can achieve. In Kittyan's case, he has most found it useful in marksmanship, so far. The glove gives him some sort of.. obscure sense, that he has since explored and gained a pretty solid understanding of. This once-obscure perception gives him the ability to measure, in particular, seemingly, the result of ricochets, collaterals, and any splintering effects of his efforts with any firearms he might wield. However, the artifact seems to largely prefer weapons that are closer to its age.. like revolvers, lever-guns, or anything relatively old - largely leaving automatic weapons off the table.

After mastering the artifact's effects on his marksmanship, Kittyan has started experimenting with how it can help him in other areas as well.

Additional Details:

- Kittyan's color code is #f7d5a5.
- While Kittyan very much so enjoys the instant gratification of playing with Manjushage, he hates getting wet - so he often dresses appropriately the next day.
- Dogs don't seem to like him very much.
- Kittyan vehemently denies any assertion that his doggy nature comes with any doggy-behavior side effects. When has he been known to lie?
- Will add more!

Hell on Earth - Detectives in a Supernatural and Demonic City

Still got same stuff to add like artifacts and a few more details, but I thought I'd stake my idea here ^^
Plus some others might wants to see what peeps are cooking up atm

Kittyan Kelly

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Name/Monikers:

Kittyan "Blackhand" Kelly, Troublemaker, Mutt

Age:

25

Gender:

Male

Description:

In anywhere but New Helle, Kittyan would stick out like a car crash - but fortunately for him, an aberrant appearance and rowdy personality fit right in, in most places.

Kittyan stands at an admittedly short 5'7" with a lean, athletic physique. He possesses a thick, cream-blonde mane of hair which loosely frames his fair-skinned face, and drapes over the eyepatch that covers his left eye. His one visible eye is a honey-hazel color and is, more often than not, contrasted by a black mascara. His features are soft yet angular, and make him a rather expressive individual. Aside from his more normal features, Kittyan also possesses a pair of canid ears that sit atop his head, matching his hair in tone, and his facial features in expressivity.

His odd biology doesn't end there, though. Aside from the large, wolf-like, cream-colored tail that sticks out behind him, there is one particular aspect of him that draws more attention than anything else. His entire left arm, as opposed to a normal human appendage, is instead replaced by an odd, bony limb. In truth, it isn't bone, but is an extremely durable, muscular black flesh with bone-like claws - the source of his moniker "Blackhand".

Apart from his physicality, Kittyan seems to possess a vast array of wardrobes for any day of the week in which he isn't working. One day he might wear a dark ensemble of all blacks and greys with a leather jacket and boots, and the next he might pop up in cargo shorts and a flowery t-shirt with some slides - one can never really tell. When he's working though, it's all about functionality - most usually he'll be equipped with some kind of dress-shirt and dark pants, usually cargo pants. One thing is true about every outfight though - the most distinct piece is almost always the katana he wears at his left hip.

When it comes to describing Kittyan behaviorally, it's pretty easy - chaotic. He's rowdy, not too self-aware, and takes things a little less seriously than he perhaps should. It would be an easy ask to discard him as an airheaded madcap of an individual - but that would be a mistake. While it is true that Kittyan leaps at the more exciting tasks and takes a proverbial snooze when it comes to the less stimulating ones, there is an underlying wit to him. While he's quite loud as a person and rather headstrong, his time spent in the criminal underworld has bestowed upon him a knack for leveraging his advantages, be they socially, intellectually, or otherwise, in ways to undermine others' expectations.

Background:

Backstory

Like most stories that arise from New Helle, Kittyan's is one with its fair share of twists and turns.

The events leading to Kittyan's life, as he knows it to this day, all start with his father, Abraham Kelly. Without delving too far into the details, Abraham took his intrepid entry into New Helle in his mid-twenties, a decision aided by his nose for opportunity. Abraham, back on the mundane side of the water, was a rather successful.. well - career criminal, to put it bluntly. The way he saw it, a place like New Helle could offer rewards a lot less mundane than those on the mainland - and he never had an aversion to making deals with the devil.

In that expectation, New Helle did not disappoint. It was pretty swiftly that Abraham cemented himself as a useful figure in the world of New Helle's underground, particularly to a powerful demon named Jhaka the Pursuer - the lord of a rather successful, and often ethically questionable, mercenary/bounty-hunter company of sorts. His involvement with this company was one that rendered his life, year after year, largely unpredictable - but that was just how he liked it.

But he'd never expected it to take some of the turns that it did. One such turn was when he found love midst the chaos and shadiness that was working as a merc. It was risky business to have people that you cared about in his line of work, but he was never one known for his impulse control. For a few years, his carelessness was left unpunished - he would enjoy a very well-paying job, and come home to a woman he loved. He was happy in life, even moreso than he was before coming to New Helle. And eventually, they even had a child.

Suddenly, Abraham's life was starting to seem more like a normal person's than a career criminal's. But it was as soon as it started that a semblance of mundane life was ripped from him. It truly was a risky business, his. Eventually Abraham found himself on the wrong side of a grudge, and an attack on Jhaka and his lot included Abraham's wife, who was suddenly torn from him. It was in immense grief that he withdrew from Jhaka's company and sequestered himself and his young son away from the eyes of that world. He knew how to cover his tracks, and he was left to his own devices.

He managed to use his wealth to make a good life for his son. And life was pretty good for Kittyan, growing up. While he lost his mother in his earliest years, his father was loving and doting enough for the both of them. Kittyan was raised knowing his father as a good man - one who held a respectable job as a Section 2 worker for the BPS. His father wanted nothing more than to spoil Kittyan and make a good example for him - things that led the young lad to emulate his father.

Growing up it was his dream to be like his father, and when he became old enough, he did just that. He entered into Section 2 with his father's assistance, and they even managed to work together a few times in the year following. But after that year is where the normality of Kittyan's life came to a halt. On one life-changing call, he arrived on the scene of a fire at which a further collapse had trapped several emergency responders - but they weren't fast enough to save Abraham.

After that, Kittyan left the BPS. Little did he know, his life was about to start mirroring his father's, but in reverse.

In the six or so months that Kittyan took to grieve for his father, he became exposed to the man's former associates. They'd tracked news of Abraham's death to his only known remaining relative, and took it upon themselves to.. console him. The distant sense of familiarity that started to grow within him for these strangers that knew his father eventually led into him seeing them as his, really, only friends. Over a few years, they pulled him into the world that his father had tried so desperately to keep in his past.

And eventually Kittyan, just like his father before him, cemented himself as a useful member of Jhaka the Pursuer's illicit mercenary company - the apple not falling very far from the tree. Turns out, being an excellent criminal ran in the family.

More recently, however, Kittyan has discovered that his ability to keep his head down never quite reached the level that his father held. The BPS had managed to track his illegal activities right to him. He was very fortunate though - for the BPS deemed Kittyan's skillset, and his previous association with the BPS, grounds enough to give him an ultimatum: put his skills to use within Section 7 of the BPS, or face the full might of the law. His choice was obvious..

To the current day, Kittyan has been part of Section 7 for around six months - he's had a few brushes with authority, sure, but his skills are so useful that they've mostly let his.. rambunctiousness slide. So far.

Capabilities:

When it comes to skills, Kittyan is a bit of a hybrid between criminal and cop.

Having spent years involved in the criminal underworld of New Helle, he knows the organizations, notable individuals, customs, gear, and anything else you'd find on the streets like the back of his hand. He also carries a reputation in most territories as a very efficient mercenary with a penchant for rooting people out of places they don't wanna come out of - something that has garnered him many friends and enemies alike. Fortunately, working as a merc makes most people malleable to changing their mind about you - it was all just for money anyways, nothing personal.

While he doesn't have a ton of experience being a cop, he does well in some areas. On the good side, he's very tactically intelligent, quick-witted, and very familiar with how cops operate - he's been dodging them for years. In the majority of BPS paper-tests, he scores quite well. However, he's not a great team-player - the whole point of being a cop. Nor does he like to hold his tongue. And he might like getting into fights a little too much. And and, he basically completely disregards "minor" laws like breaking-and-entering, excessive-force laws, use of unauthorized equipment-- you get the gist..

Aside from his more natural inclinations, Kittyan has a few supernatural blessings as well. Due to a previously-unlicensed contract with a Demon he calls "Pooch", Kittyan has a few abilities which greatly aid him in his duties as a detective. Aside from his obvious physical alterations, Kittyan possesses greatly enhanced senses. His eyesight and reaction speed are both consummately impressive, and his senses of smell and hearing are both, sometimes unfortunately, incredibly sharp. His sense of smell is, furthermore, even capable of sniffing out things one normally wouldn't be able to otherwise detect - such as traces of magic or the supernatural.

The most conspicuous boon granted to him by his contract though is his left arm. An appendage which has, over the years, come to be somewhat of a nametag to those in the know - a nametag that reads "Blackhand Kelly". Said appendage is roughly the same dimensions as a normal arm, except that it's comprised of a tremendously durable, dark flesh that in-part emulates the appearance of bone. In truth, this arm is built incredibly powerfully, despite fitting a petite frame like Kittyan's. Over the years it has stopped all manner of things, be they knives, claws, picks, or even bullets. Furthermore, this arm is incredibly strong, even being able to allow Kittyan to throw men twice his size.

On top of all the training and experiences involved with his previous professions, Kittyan has trained himself in a good number of different kinds of combat, some of them more conventional than others. Due to the inheritance of many, many artifacts and trinkets from his father, alongside all the stuff he has collected in his own career, he has come across a good range of artifacts and equipment of all different sizes and types, whether they be stolen, awarded to him, or otherwise obtained. He knows a few different martial arts, and is particularly well-versed with katanas and firearms.

Connections:

• Jhaka, the Pursuer - Kittyan has worked for Jhaka and his mercenary company for years, and still technically does. They have never met in person, as Jhaka does not venture outside of Olde Hell, but they have corresponded through letters and landline. With Kittyan's more recent seizure by the BPS, Jhaka has halted all direct communication with him, but has sent a couple jobs his way on occasion. They are on very good terms.

• Pooch - Pooch is effectively Kittyan's direct counterpart on the other side of Hell's gates. His name isn't actually Pooch, but the real one is unintelligible to Kittyan - and so he gave him a nickname. Pooch is essentially a handler for Kittyan, levying him into jobs at either his or Jhaka's request. Pooch is the Demon with which Kittyan holds a contract for his supernatural abilities, and these abilities take direct influence from Pooch's own physicality. They are on incredibly good terms, and communicate often through landline.

Artifacts:

While Kittyan has access to many artifacts, there are only a couple that he keeps on his person regularly.

Manjushage

Manjushage is a Wakizashi with a long, storied past. Originally forged during the late Feudal period of Japan's history, the blade is one which has seen much reverence over its life span. It was once worn in battle by a member of a now long-scattered family by the name of Sakanoue. Passed down generation after generation, the blade eventually managed to retire in the late Edo period, having tasted its fair share of blood before finally being lain down to rest. And rest it has, eventually being passed down to a modern branch of the Sakanoue family the name of which is lost to obscurity.

In the most recent 60 years, the opening of the gates of hell has disturbed much of what was once mundane - Manjushage included. With the coming of hell to earth, the blade seemed to take on a new life, shedding the wear of its age, much to the shock, and perhaps terror, of the family that once admired it afar from its perch on a shelf. One member of the family took it upon themself to take the seemingly renewed blade and carry it to the only place they thought to - New Helle, the place that was almost certainly most-closely tied to its new status as an artifact.

It was there that the blade was unceremoniously ripped from their hands by one ne'er-do-well or another. Eventually, it came to land in the grasp of Abraham Kelly - and eventually, his son as well.

Fortunately for the blade, it probably couldn't have landed in better hands than Kittyan's. With his literal nose for magic, the blade is not denied its new purpose - devouring the supernatural. The Wakizashi, in its nature as an artifact, has gained the ability to cut through and consume magics and supernatural phenomenon that it comes into contact with, and further protect its wielder from hostile magical influences.

Additional Details:

TBD

Pokétopian Dreams: Uncharted Waters

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_{Mentions: @Ryik, @Yankee Location: Ocean Pier}

---

Bat's gaze shifted to Kaison as an appreciative, closed-mouth smile reaching his lips and eyes whilst the other guy complimented his companion. It was true, what he said - not many people liked Rattata. It was widely seen as a bit of a pest species, especially in Alola. But Bat had never been one to judge a Pokémon by a label slapped upon them by others - after all, Rawst had always been his closest friend, even since childhood. He smoothly crossed his arms over his chest, Rawst taking the opportunity to hop down into the cradle of his forearms and make itself comfortable.

"Aha, why thank you!" Bat chimed, his hand curling up momentarily to give the small Pokémon a scritch under the chin. He looked over Kaison, a faint hint of memory touching the surface of his brain. He was once seen as the champion of Unova, if it was correctly recalled. Unova had been one of Bat's favorite regions to visit - which aided in his recollection of the detail. "This one fancies herself a nuisance more than a battler." He replied, looking down at the rodent and sticking out his tongue shortly. "I must confess though-" he continued, looking at Kaison once again. "-she can put up a fight for such a little critter."

Rawst let out small, familiar chitters at her trainer's remarks, whiskers twitching as the salty air occasionally buffeted the lot of them. Bat's eyes took to scanning the pier and the surrounding town, trying to pick out a sign that the Captain was soon to arrive. There was a small, creeping feeling of anxiousness slowly crawling up his spine again.

His eyes caught a glimpse of one of the others momentarily squinting at him and his Pokémon - Sophie. He offered a slight smile to her as well, wiggling the fingers of one hand cordially in his cross-armed stature before he continued looking over the area, his eyes largely obscured by his dark lenses.