Blizz

X-Men: GenetiX

She knew they'd been tending to her while she pretended to be out cold. That much was apparent. She also knew that they had been keeping her far away from the laser guy they called Scott. Presumably, because Ryder proved repeatedly just how dangerous she could be. Yet despite that, both "Jean" and this fucking dumbass had the gall to tread in the once place that they, as telepaths, should know better than to enter uninvited. She knew Hank to be the blue guy, and that he had the vibranium used to deter Ryder's powers under a microscope. But beyond that, none of Xavier's words were anything above hollow. Umbra propped itself up as a safe place for most people who weren't Ryder. Umbra pretended to care. And just a few platitudes weren't going to sell this place to her as anything different. Certainly not when this old man was inside her mind. He even looked like he was in control, by the way his attitude appeared.

"I don't give a damn about what you're interested in. My powers and my "origins" don't concern any of you. And I'm not staying here, so you can find someone else to stick in your fancy little mansion." It really didn't sit right with her, the way Xavier talked as if it was just a guarantee that she'd stick around after she could officially walk without falling over again. It sounded possessive, like someone who wanted to keep an animal in a box; Safe, because the keeper wants their pet in good condition.

"You bastards locked me in a digital cage, try to break into my head for weeks, and you think I care one fucking bit how you feel about me? My name is Ryder, and I'm pissed. That's all you have any reason to know. As soon as I can stand up without falling back over, I'm leaving. Follow me, and I'll fucking kill all of you. Got it?"

Inferno - STRIKE THE MATCH! - Concluded

---

---

Jack Hawthorne

---

Location: Limbo
Skills: Magical Expertise, Magic Combat
Spells: Shadow Arm
Outfit

---

---

There was no doubt in Jack's mind that the necromancer-looking dude and the old woman were clearly the heaviest hitters so far. The hands that sprung forth evaporated the demons into nothing. Not all of them, though, as Jack watched flames engulf several more, just before a rune appeared over him. Protection, if his memory served well enough. But so much was happening at the moment. The soulless child was getting skewered, Sym was running, someone brainwashed a demon, and the horde got an edge off on them by ripping Max's throat out. That grabbed Jack's attention, and his first thought was to try and tear off a piece of his arm and turn it into some sort of fluid that could coat wounds. He often used this trick when medical attention was a tricky thing to find, but it didn't work. His hand felt very much like a hand and not a magical construct in that moment, as it normally did. Hopefully those runes would do something about it, as Jack's attention was pulled by a whip ensnaring the woman. The demon appeared to be dragging her back, and winning. Was... Was she blind? Oh, the irony of that.

There were seven people in this throne room, surely one of them could heal the twink.

Jack took a few steps forward, kicking teacups, plates and demonic silverware every which way, and finally manage to use his arm properly. Suddenly, Jack's entire arm was also a whip, though not a particularly deadly one. Still, it was enough. He swung the whip out, and it severed the demon's around Runa's neck. She wouldn't suffocate, but she wasn't in a position to just get back up and start flinging fireballs. So Jack leapt off the table, landing between both of them on both feet with a loud thud. He brandished his scythe out in front of him as a warning to the demon. "If you know any healing magic, that one behind us is bleeding from his throat. If not, then catch your breath. I'll cover you, He said to Runa. He didn't doubt she could take care of herself, especially with magic like that, but getting choked like that took the wind out of someone- literally. If she needed a minute, then he'd buy her time.

But he also wasn't content on giving the demon a chance to pull another weapon out of his ass, so Jack raised weapon and went for another headshot.

Held roll

Jack wants this twink demon obliterated. So he's swinging that scythe to cut the fucker's head off. Magic combat skill please and thank you.

Avengers Academy 💥

Leah Jordan

---

Location: Training Room B
Gear: A hot ass dress
Skills: The insurmountable will to not lose her cool under any circumstances
Oh god oh fuck

---

---

Putting aside the fact that April panicking was a regular occurrence, Leah was a tad concerned as to why she appeared to be freaking the fuck out. Unsurprisingly, though, that panic stopped the nanosecond she laid eyes on Leah. And suddenly, Leah was getting kissed, and she began to feel okay with wearing a paper-thin dress that showed off her muscles. Leah grinned, ignoring the ghost boy just zooming past her... And the fact that she should've knocked first. But in her nervousness, she forgot that manners were a thing. "So do you. Wait- I just said that. Okay, so what are we- Fucking- Woah- Watch the-" She wanted to say watch the door since Leah was getting dragged through it, and was several inches taller than April, who was dragging her through it like some sort of super-strength having motherfucker. Holy shit, she was a lot stronger than she appeared to be, being able to tow Leah around, when Leah was built like a damn horse. She was so caught of guard that she almost fell over, and noticed that April was now running up to hug and kiss Sabine. And-

Wow. Sabine. The sword, the hair, the funny-looking armor? Wow.

"Hm, I- Damn. Okay. Nice armor- April, what the hell are you talking about? Who are we nuking here? Is it Usagi? Because I can just do that myself- Kick the fucker for a field goal all the way to New York. Who fucked up?" Was it obvious she was staring at Sabine? Of course it was, but who could blame her? Hell, April probably was too- Actually, no, she was definitely staring, knowing her. Fuck, they were hot, fuck, damn.

This hallway was starting to get a bit crowded. And Leah did not recognize a single costume here. Of course, she wasn't about to say that, since it would be a whole thing. Was Percy even wearing a costume? Honestly, he just looked like that normally. [color=ff9a4f]"Okay. So, uh... I don't really do this whole dancing thing you guys usually do every year. Are we supposed to get there at a certain time or something?"[/c

The New Marvels: An Avengers Academy RP

---

Mom: Sorry I couldn't be at home when you were ready to leave.

H: It's fine.

Mom: I'm proud of you, Hazel. I know I don't say it enough, but you're still my daughter.
And I'm glad you've found a way to put your gifts to use.

H: We'll see how it goes.

Mom: What's it like over there? I bet it looks really cool, seeing all those giant buildings.

H: Noisy. Lots of cars.

Mom: That makes sense.

Mom: I miss you already.

Mom: You can text me whenever you want, okay? I'll see it.

Mom: Are you there?

H: Sure.

Hazel shut her phone off, and slid it into a pocket. She didn't feel like talking to the Maternal Unit at the moment, seeing as she was going to get off this fancy jet soon... In another ten minutes. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had to help her box up her bike, and carry the whole thing in pieces over to New York. Three bulletproof, metal containers that could house a superpowered criminal all held the dissembled parts, since no one was willing to cart the thing across the country unless it was stored like this. Hazel would've preferred to just zoom across every state between New York and California, and she could have been there before sunrise if she just brought a box of protein bars. But apparently someone in the chain of Good Guy Incorporated didn't want that either. So instead, she had to ride a private jet, arranged for by Hulk and War Machine. Hazel didn't necessarily mind the free ride, but she preferred the freedom to go places on her own. It would've given her enough time and space to consider how she really felt about this whole thing. Or maybe she just wanted an excuse to get "sidetracked" and fuck off to somewhere else between points A and B.

Eight more minutes. Hazel packed everything she could, including the tools she built her stuff with. So she decided to head back into the cargo area of the jet and deal with the bike. Three minutes were spent digging through her bag, unlocked the containers and reassembling the Vandal in a flash. By the time the jet actually landed, it was powered up and ready to go. The pilot offered her help with her things, but she didn't need it. She had a map of the place already, and slung a huge duffle bag over her shoulders, before ramping her bike off and towards a workshop, where she could store her bike. It was a mix between a garage and Tony Stark's basement which War Machine had set up in advance with whatever the Avengers thought she'd need. Of course, it would no doubt be a shared space, between her and whatever would-be "supers" had a knack for tech. For that reason, Hazel made a mental note to hack the absolute shit out of everything connected to the workshop they provided, just to make sure they weren't spying on her. Hazel parked her ride, threw a covering over it, and pulled up a map on her Codex.

New York was pretty big, Hazel saw the buildings from far away when they landed. Looking around for a bit, Hazel found the main gate and worked her way from there, walking through a courtyard with a holographic screen floating in front of her. The statue caught her eye, and she read the words at its feet with little interest. That was the most generic superhero nonsense she ever heard, and she grew up hearing about how they were a big deal. Over in the distance, there appeared to be a small crowd forming around Hulk. Hazel really didn't want to join all that right now, but she felt like one of them would pester her eventually if she didn't first. So... Fuck it. Hazel strode over. One guy had a whole suit of armor on, there were two that looked marginally identical to one another, and some chick who sounded like a swerving car.

"I'm here," Hazel, stated, announcing her presence. "Would've been nice to know that the Shieldies were gonna dismantle my bike before they told me. It's fixed now, though. " Everyone else might've been polite and formal with these two, but not Hazel.

She didn't extend a hand to greet the Hulk, since she wasn't really confident he could shake a hand without grinding it to dust. But she did at least speak to him. "Could've gotten here sooner without them, really. Name's Hazel."

Inferno - STRIKE THE MATCH! - Concluded

---

---

Jack Hawthorne

---

Location: Limbo
Skills: Magical Expertise, Magic Combat
Spells: Shadow Scythe
Outfit

---

---

He knew it. Deep down, he knew she had to be Ananym. Watching Witchfire's face blur into the exact fact of Jack's dear friend, he almost missed the fact that Madalyne's father was killed right before their eyes. She grabbed Carolina, and they were gone.

"Ananym-" But it was too late, she had left them all for the wolves. Or rather, the demons. Madalyne incinerated Sym on the spot- He doubted the demon was dead, and was glad, since now he could still interrogate the little fucker. Annika, funnily enough, became a cute little bear and went on the attack. He watched them both, contemplating the once-peaceful battlefield for a moment as the demons circled them. He maintained his composure in the chair, and suddenly a weapon materialized out of nothingness in his hands- A scythe made of shadows, with an edge no duller than a strand of hair. Jack kicked his chair away, out from under him, and whirled the scythe overhead with palpable skill and fury. The demon who tried to ambush him from behind had its head removed in a quick swing, and Jack tried to lift into the air. But something weighed him to the ground. He could not help but feel that all magic was destabilizing in Limbo- How long would they have before they were unarmed? If they were all lucky, it was only a side-effect of his magic being based on another plane, during a time when multiple planes were starting to bristle.

"CUT OFF THEIR HEADS! THEY DO NOT DIE LIKE HUMANS!" Jack shouted, loud enough to fill the entire chamber. He jumped onto the table, kicking away teacups and silverware.

Jack was typically a mobile fighter, he did not fare well in confined spaces. His magic depended on his environment to a degree, meaning open areas such as this were favorable. But with this many people, it wasn't easy to stay on top of the enemy. Especially when his magic wasn't cooperating right now. From this position, he could hack away any demons who would join the fray. More importantly, though- He could keep an eye on Sym's smoking body, in case that wretch had the strength to get back up. The moment Jack had the chance, he planned to wring that grapejuice-skinned shitstain for all he was worth. It was a trick from the start, Ananym called herself Limbo's queen- If that was true, then where was Magik? In a realm such as this, their titles would no doubt conflict. She had to be compromised in some way. Missing, busy, perhaps dead. That would be just the thing they needed tonight- Two dead Sorcerers Supreme, now three. But if Jack was lucky, then maybe he could right that wrong. He had the purest form of life magic to ever grace the world resting in his pocket, after all.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

”Damage?”

”Yes. That is the name of it. Thought mages connect to groups of people, who experience the worst memories of each other. The victor forfeits last. I’m told the game is highly illegal, for reasons I am sure you understand.”

Velhass nodded. It had been two months since he met Shirik, who proved to be a very kind caretaker, having taught him how to garden and hunt for food in the forest. They even helped him build onto the shack the two first met in, turning the hut into something of a rudimentary home with clay from a nearby river, which Shirik incinerated into something solid. It looked ugly, but it was theirs.

It was starting to grow cold, and the s’toric boy was very thankful that Shirik was, well… Shirik.

”Is that why I’m feared? Because I could learn things from others that they wouldn’t want?”

Shirik was currently slicing up a fish that Velhass caught out of the river, with a sharp piece of stone. ”That is one reason. But as I said before, it is not about what you learn about a person, but what you can do to them, boy. The mind is an important thing. It is what makes you who you are. You are… A different being altogether when it changes. To play with one’s mind is to trespass on an otherwise inviolable refuge. If you do not use your gifts wisely, you will be the monster that you saw yourself as when Salaketh chased you. And he will kill you with no hesitation once that act is committed.”

Velhass winced at their mention of the Inquisitor. Shirik began laying the sliced up portions of the fish spikes, which promptly erupted into flames. Nothing burned, but the heat slowly trickled inwards, something Velhass watched them do hundreds of times now.

”I am telling you this, because you are neither the first, nor the last thought mage to live as a rogue. You may cross paths with them some day, and they know the game well. Do not waste your time with it, it is called Damage for a reason.”

”Are you good at it?”

Shirik stopped what they were doing. ”I am not a thought mage.”

”But I can feel your mind when we’re close. The Inquisitors and all the people in the city all felt different. Like rocks in a river. But you… You are heavier. You feel like an anchor, and sometimes I feel your mind pushing out. You-”

”You’ve been reading my mind.”

”...Somewhat. I don’t mean to, but you’re made of glass where someone else would be made of stone. I can just see right through you for some reason. Sometimes I hear voices when I look at you, and I feel what you feel when you think of them.”

Shirik felt uncomfortable, suddenly. They knew the boy wasn’t trying to be malicious, and that it was an honest misstep. But still, they would’ve liked to know if he was going that far. ”Velhass…”

”So- You’re probably great at Damage, right? No one can beat you, isn’t that cheating? Because you’ve lived longer, and saw more things, I mean?”

”Velh-”

”All you have to do is think about Karlassa, and you-”

VELHASS!!!

Now they had his attention, and the poor kid looked like he was about to die. Shirik’s flaming demeanor just became a raging wildfire around him. The air grew exhaustingly warm, there was a smell of burning flesh in the air- The fish was ruined. Smoke billowed out from the holes in their bark, and they were so bright. Velhass had to look away from their eyes, lest he be blinded. They screamed at him, and now he was terrified again.

Velhass stumbled back, feeling paralyzed and expecting he was about to die. Shirik reached out and grabbed him just as he lost his footing, and kept him in place. The boy would not look at him. He couldn’t, Shirik was terror made manifest. The Iriad told stories of beings like them for a reason. He was about to die, and all he could say was mumble an apology over, and over, and-

...Do not ever say that name again.”

Shirik’s voice sounded like a crackling forest fire. It took everything they had not to reduce Velhass to ashes. Instead, they stormed off into the woods, letting him fall down. They picked up a spear as they left, leaving behind a trail of glowing footprints across the wet morning grass. They should’ve known better than to scream in the face of a child.

Velhass finally took in a breath, and curled up into a ball on the ground. He didn’t think Shirik would feel so upset at hearing that name. The memories seemed so happy…

He wasn’t hungry anymore.

---

Shirik had been slicing up plenty of fish for the last two days. To their knowledge, the humans at the Jotunheim were dealing with a food situation. Being the master cook of this whole ordeal, they made sure the humans had plenty of food for the next few weeks, accounting for how few of them would be left at the ship. Enough fish were preserved and dropped off, with Zeynap's permission, that they had plenty of snacks for the next few weeks if they rationed it properly. They also made a few spears, and verbally taught the cooking techniques they used to one of the strange metal golems with the "fire arms." That way, if an emergency happened, they had the knowledge for themselves. With that out of the way, they wished Kareet and her group well. They would've gone with her, but they didn't feel as if they'd fit in well for an extended stay at the Ascendancy. The Archmagister of the heat domain might've had words with them, along with every seeker and their mother. That attention wasn't something they wanted. And the Ascendancy tended to embrace new ideas more than most of the world, while Shirik was a living relic of history. They understood Mythadia's way of doing things better for that reason, so they saw themselves more fit for that group.

Besides, Silbermine wanted the Jotunheim for himself, and Shirik was a rather convincing individual.

They washed away the soot and ash from their cloak, ready to meet the day fresh. The faint thump of their walking staff signaled their arrival just as Ixtaro showed up as well. "We are ready to travel to your land." They eyed up the knights and foot soldiers in Silbermine's caravan. A big force, but not as big as the one called "Eva" in her armor. It was a rather fair day, so the mud would hopefully not slow any of them down. "I will accompany the humans, to ensure their safety as they explore this world." That was both generosity, and a warning to Silbermine, to not try a damn thing.

They were, however, quite amused when Ixtaro cut off the translator. The two of them had been exchanging words in their respective languages long enough that they understood what she was saying to Mallory. "Your secrets are safe," they said, interjecting not in S'toric, but in English. Shirik knew they had something to hide from the Glen lord, and knew it was important not to give him an edge. To Silbermine, they were all speaking nonsense. And if he was even remotely as smart as he pretended to be, then he'd take that as a sign that he did not have their confidence. That the cursed Iriad was closer to them than the leaders of feudal states.

"Observe," they added, before switching back to S'toric and addressing Silbermine in a language he could understand. "What regions of the hills have your scouts searched as of late?"

The New Marvels: An Avengers Academy RP

I see you Nal

The New Marvels: An Avengers Academy RP

<Snipped quote by Alpha Paladin>

Alright, given that the more recent changes I requested are minor, I'll overlook them and say you're accepted - tentatively. If I don't see those extra changes within a week of the RP starting, I...Well, I'll be upset! So there! >:C

@Mintz

When will that be oh great and powerful GM

Paradise in Walson

I don’t think I’ll join this one, actually. I’m in a bunch of other rps rn, and I’m slowly working on one to GM myself one day.

Sorry.

Inferno - STRIKE THE MATCH! - Concluded

---

---

Jack Hawthorne

---

Location: Limbo
Skills:
Spells:
Outfit

---

---

So far, it seemed no one else wanted to trust Witchfire's offer. And as someone who understood that interdimensional travel was... Complicated to say the least, Jack wasn't so inclined either. He didn't know who OMEN was, but Carolina's story suggested they were speaking with a dead woman. That was somewhat alarming to him, but the Veil was always thinnest on this night. Anything could cross to anywhere, and stumble upon any place by accident if they weren't careful. And even when it wasn't, one did not simply open a door across it, even Jack himself had to perform mental calculations as to where he was going. But what really got his attention was what Madalyne said. She was tortured in this very castle, and Sym did something to Ananym. He waited a moment, and turned to give the purple demon a silent glare. One that would've been a death sentence in its own right, were it not for the circumstances. Jack calmly made a mental note to shred him to ribbons at a later date. "I will assume that Ananym has been tended to, and that my friend was not left to rot in your dungeon, demon. Surely, your Lady would not allow you to leave a child there, in whatever state you may have wished upon her." Ananym could take care of herself, but she was a kid, and Jack had a habit of feeling protective about people he cared for.

Wait.

Something came to Jack, suddenly. Ananym was a strange child, she always had been. The girl had a knack for mimicking sounds. He once heard her openly call Belasco a "little piss boy" in his voice, and had never laughed so hard in his life. During his last stay in Limbo, the two spent plenty of time together, enough that she showed him several of the books she had been reading on impersonating people. Glamor magic, something he found quite menacing. She showed Jack something she had been practicing, and it was quite convincing.

Time worked in strange ways... How long had this woman been in Limbo, to have not only known Carolina, but to make it to her position? It did not add up. If "October" truly was dead, then how did Ananym find her body, or her voice? Was that the voice of "October?" Ananym was a dangerous person, she could've been through any number of things up to this point. Being the daughter of Belasco, she no doubt had access to all his books and sources. But why? Why this woman in particular?

Whatever the reason, she obviously had something to hide, so he didn't even think to blow her cover.

Maintaining his composure and the raging poker face he had going on, Jack returned his attention to Witchfire. "As we were just saying... I'm afraid I have to agree with her entirely." Jack gestured to Prudence, who seemed to instantly clock Witchfire as suspicious. "I regularly travel across the universe, and I've rarely met others like me who can open portals through it. I certainly would expect the queen of Limbo to have such power, especially on the night when the Veil is weakest. But the ruler has her machinations- Her own visions for the realm. And everyone else at this table must be greatly powerful in their own rights to have made it here today. Some of us have a responsibility we must see to," Ed was right about this. Did he know Strange too? "But for those who would go home, what would you ask in return for safe passage?" He wanted to add on his own experience with portals tonight. But Witchfire could easily use that to deem him incompetent, saying that there was no way to know if it was his magic or magic in general that was acting up. Jack suspected it was the Veil slowly cracking open, but perhaps she knew about this already.