Blizz

Recollections: Primal Sinister

Varnan had called in sick ahead of his drive to Raven’s Rest, so he was entirely oblivious to the chaos that occurred at Freya’s bakery. He was expecting the day to take longer, in the form of him and Bill getting down to proper business about all the werewolves and vampires coming down the mountain. That didn’t work, so Varnan rode back to northern Cloverfield. He pulled into a parking lot outside a coffee shop at roughly 1pm in the afternoon. He’d done some sweeps around the edge of town for more apparitions as a precaution, and was planning to get back to that. In just a few minutes.

He swung off his motorcycle, swung out the kickstand and leaned against it. Varnan looked around, and confirmed that no one else was in the parking lot, so he reached for his watch and activated a spell. He ran his bike’s Parallel Code that he’d logged five minutes ago, and all the gas he’d used up in that small window conveniently reappeared.

He relived that five minutes that last five minutes, like a hallucination. And when it was finished, she was approaching him.

Quill had expected Varnan to want to meet at a location where he would be advantageous. She expected mistrust. So she went along with it. She made her way, carefully, approaching with her hands in full view. That meant little when it came to magic and all that, but still, she hoped it showed some faith.

”Hello Varnan. I assume Ms. Collins told you, but my name is Quill St. Sebastien. I am a private investigator working with a client who very much wishes to meet you. She asked me to make contact. She wanted to be here for it but I wanted to meet you first. I understand you have a particular set of skills that my client is very interested in utilizing. Hope it’s okay if we talk for a bit.”

She did tell him someone was after him. It couldn’t have been the Guild, they didn’t operate this way. He looked up at her, and Varnan didn’t strike her as an overt threat.

”...Yes. I was told someone had been looking for me regarding something,” he said. What, he didn’t know. ”What “skills” are you referring to, if I may?”

”From my understanding it is how you are able to keep an eye on things going on in this city. Not to put too fine a point on it but she mentioned threats to her holdings. Specifically she referred to them as monsters. Now, I am wise to the things going on around here so I know she isn’t talking about ‘Karens’ or other horrible people, but rather actual monsters. She brought you up as someone whose job it is to be aware of the threats and thought we should connect on how to go about removing said threats.”

“I understand I am not being super forthcoming. I am happy to share relevant information if this sounds…doable for you. My client does wish to be involved and they have the finances to be useful, at least somewhat.”

Monsters. Of course. ”Alright, then let’s talk. You have my attention.” It mattered that he knew she was at least somewhat paranormal. Enough to know what he’d been doing in the time he was here. ”What role do you have in this, as an investigator?” He could assume she wanted to know things about him. That was the polite way to ask about that.

Quill merely shrugged. ”I’m not really paid to ask questions. I’m more of a fixer so I fix problems. And this town has a habit of having problems that are monster-related or, at least, monster-adjacent. Plus I have my own skills.” She would not be elaborating, but she hoped he got the message. ”Plus I’m getting the sense a lot more is connected. After all, the bakery you worked at was attacked. You work there, I needed to go there. Lots of coincidences.”

Varnan’s head tilted upwards a bit. ”Attacked. The woman who owns that bakery- Was she hurt?” It couldn’t possibly have been a vampire, or a werewolf, could it? And he was there yesterday for closing time, it had to have been while he was in Raven’s Rest this morning.

Quill tilted her head to one side, as if trying to look at the man at a different angle. Did he not know? Wouldn’t Freya have told him if he was this supposed guardian who knew of threats to the town? ”Apart from one of the customers being killed, everyone else is all right, more or less. Ms. Collins was not present when I was there but she is aware of what happened. I helped clean up the mess afterwards as one of the other people, Loni if I remember right, needed to be brought to the hospital. There was some…thing. A mimic? A doppelganger? Something to that effect.”

Quill was still wrapping her mind around it. ”Be that as it may, I believe everyone is safe. I also believe I have given a lot more answers than I have received. So Varnan, care to share what you know?”

He crossed his arms and thought for a moment. It was always tricky discussing the paranormal with strangers. But this woman clearly was paranormal herself. To what extent, he was unsure.

But…

”I fought something like that, already. Once. Out of respect for others involved, I won’t say where. But they are dangerous. It could ignore certain things it was subjected to. I haven’t noticed more than one yet, though.”

”So you have fought one before, which means it’ll likely come back. I do not know if that is the threat my client was speaking of or if it is just one of many in this godsforsaken city, but either way it seems you are skilled.”

“My client needs help, but I believe they could speak more as to what exactly they need. They would like to meet up to talk provided you are willing. She is like us in that I felt power stirring inside of her. Would you be willing to meet up? I’ll be there to help if things get dicey. If they do intend to backstab me I will not make it easy for them.”

”That will be fine.” He nodded. ”There are other things in Cloverfield besides them. Other things that I’ve tried to keep tabs on.”

”I believe they mentioned that. If you would not mind my curiosity, what other things are you tracking?” Nothing would surprise her here, but it would be nice to know what creatures are going bump in the night. Preparation is key.

”The kind that aren’t native to here. Most of them come down from the mountains, and conveniently find their way here.” There was always a chance that someone paranormal wasn’t exactly human themselves, so he wasn’t going to admit that they were vampires and werewolves. ”Apparitions, monsters.”

”Seems your ability to track falls in line with my client’s wishes to have some problems of their own taken care of. And it seems I’ll need to walk around with more defenses on my side. Shall I set up the meeting then or would you prefer to reach out to my client? Unsure what they would want but they sort of gave me carte blanche to handle this.”

”Feel free. And let me know when. Is there a way I can contact you?”

Quill gave off her phone number. ”There. And let me know if I can be of use to you in the future. Can never have too many allies to battle the creepy crawlies that threaten our good town.” Said with a hint of sarcasm, but the offer was genuine all the same.

Young Justice

Two days ago (because time is fake, fuck you), Cora basically flatlined and had neon blue light coming out of every vein in her body. One day ago, it was a struggle to even lift her arms, let alone drag herself out of a bed. Yesterday evening, she could hobble around and hold her hands steady enough to rub them together. She’d had a pretty significant amount of time to think about Metamorph, and what he was dealing with.

Cora thought he had something weird going on with his powers. Memory blanks that came when his powers got the better of him, not memory blanks when other people were at the wheel. Unfortunately, she couldn’t use a phone in her condition, and that was probably for the best since Cora was absolutely not going to read a wiki about psychology and then run in to back up Kila, or Ja, or whoever the third guy was.

Slowly, she walked through the cave and leaned slightly against a wall. Cora wasn’t willing to levitate right now, it’d probably rough her up more. She knocked on a door.

Black Canary opened the door, knowing Cora had scheduled a session with her.
“Come in Cora.” The Leaguer took her usual place behind the desk and gestured for the white haired teen to lay down on the turquoise chaise lounge.
”None of you ever sit there, probably because it’s a cliche. But in your condition Cora I have to insist you make yourself comfortable.”

Dinah would never discourage the Team to come and see her, but Cora was lucky to not still be in the infirmary. Red Tornado had discharged her, vitals were as stable as they were going to get. And being a robot that’s what he used as a measure to determine Cora’s condition. There was more going on underneath the surface.

”So what can I do for you today?”

Cora clambered around and fell backwards onto the chair thing that nobody actually sat on. Her legs burned. ”So… You know how brains work. You know better than anyone else what happens when something in someone’s head goes wrong, right? I’ve had a lot of time to think about stuff, and I’ve been wanting to help Metamorph with what he’s been going through.” It was easier to just refer to all three of them with one name.

”And it feels like everyone else is either too mad at someone else to think about him, or too pissed off at him.”

Black Canary uncrossed her hands and shot a quizzical look at Cora.
“So you’re telling me you’re not here for what’s wrong in your head as you put it. But you want to find out what’s going on with Metamorph…”

She had to give it to Cora. Even in her condition she wanted to be there for a team mate she hadn’t known for all that long, and on top of that had seen him do terrible things.

“What makes you want to help him?”

”He’s my friend, and he’s going through something pretty messed up. I’m asking you because you know this stuff better than me. I don’t really know who else to go to, and I’m definitely not going to just check the internet for something like that.” Was it really that unbelievable that someone would be on his side?

”Smart decision.’ Black Canary answered, more geared towards Cora’s decision not to use the internet, not necessarily coming to her. She deduced Cora wanted to know more about KJ’s condition. She had to be careful with the information she was going to share. KJ’s condition was a sensitive subject in the League, not everyone was on the same page. The last thing she wanted was to create more divide, especially in her own Team.

”Metamorphs' condition is something unique. There are three separate personalities inhabiting the same body. That in itself makes helping him challenging. What one of them needs may not be what the others need and vice versa. The third personality is also a recent development. Other than what we’ve seen of him so far we have no data, so there isn’t much to go on.”

Black Canary shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other and leaned back.
”How do you feel about his position on the Team?”

”Which one?” She asked. ”Both Ja and Kila were here before me… Maybe Metamorph Number Three was too? I’m not sure. Ja was torn up over what happened, I don’t know if Kila remembers it. I think we’d all be in pretty bad shape if they never came back.”

She fidgeted with her hands to stop them from trembling. ”It’s not right to put them in a box somewhere and forget about them, and I’m glad that didn’t happen. But you can’t just throw someone under the bus because of this, can you? I mean, there’s no way they’re the first superheroes to ever lose control of themselves.”

Black Canary nodded.
”You’re right about that. Even when we do everything right, bad things still sometimes happen. There are some things we have the power to control, but the hardest thing to admit is, especially for people in our line of work, is that sometimes we’re powerless”

”Yeah… Maybe it’s just another case of that for him. Animals can get feral just as fast as they can run or jump or breathe underwater. I don’t know…” She turned her head and stared straight at Black Canary. ”I know you’re looking for him, but is there something the rest of us could maybe do? Or me? I want to do something to help him, but I can’t go fight someone like this, and I wouldn’t know where to find Deathstroke anyway. How do you help someone in his situation?”

”Unfortunately Cora for now there isn’t a lot you can do for KJ, other than to follow League orders. I know you’re worried about your friend. I am worried about him too.

Black Canary pulled up her notebook and wrote down a few bullet points to address later. She looked at Cora again, a sympathetic look on her usually stern face.
”What you can do is be there for the Team mates who are still here. I know Kassandra has had a rough time with his absence.

”I know there isn’t much I can do, yeah.” She’d been incapacitated for a day or two, after all. ”Still, they’re all going to be back here eventually. I don’t know, Metamorph’s part of the team. I don’t get it.”

She did have a point though. Kassy probably felt like shit right now. Cora made a mental note to talk to her.

”I don’t get how they can be so willing to turn their backs Ja or Kila for this, when they’ve probably all made worse mistakes.”

”Everyone on the Team has made mistakes, sometimes even endangering others. And they’re still on the Team. No one has asked for KJ to be removed from the Team. I think this is their way of trying to help him and protect themselves at the same time.”

Black Canary sighed softly.
”This might not be the best comparison but take what Daphne went through by being connected to the Green. She couldn’t participate in missions which may have indirectly put the Team at a disadvantage during missions, if her skills were needed. The difference with KJ is that she wasn’t a danger to the Team, she just wasn’t there.

‘They probably feel betrayed by him in some way.

She had a point, Cora had to admit. ”...Pei was pretty vocal about him being kept off of missions, though. She wasn’t really nice about it either- At least Viktor wasn’t an ass about it. Just… I dunno. This sucks.”

”Everyone is entitled to their feelings and opinions and communication is key. Of course there is a textbook way on how to communicate your feelings properly, that’s not always easy when emotions are involved and they usually are. It’s important to not get stuck in the negative emotions that cause you to lash out. Pei being vocal about the situation doesn’t mean she hates KJ.

”Wasn’t exactly easy to tell. She was being awfully shitty about it the whole time.” It was really annoying, the way she snarked about how he could’ve hurt people. ”Honestly, it felt like she was just making fun of Metamorph or fun of us.”

Black Canary ticked off something in her notes and returned her attention to Cora.
”You’re always welcome to vent here Cora, but if this is something that will keep bothering you about Pei’s communication style you should talk it out with her.”

”Yeah. I know. I haven’t really been able to stand up, or even get out of bed until today, though. So… I’ll probably talk to her. Maybe. I hope I’m wrong and she just sucks at showing how she actually feels about it.” Cora shrugged.

Black Canary put down her notes and smiled sympathetically at Cora.
”You should take it easy for now Cora, you’ve been through a lot, mind and body both.”

Technically speaking, that was true. But that was absolutely not what Cora had in mind.

”Ehhh… If I sit still for too long, it’s going to be really hard to get back up. I’ve got stuff to do. Like seeing how the rest of my team’s been doing while I was fucked up in a hospital bed.”

First on her list was Daphne.

✨ Under Black Stars ✨

Jack could not help but grin like he’d just stolen something from the richest place on the planet. His daughter clearly knew how to use her magic in the more clever ways than he was thinking of. Annika truly did take after him.

”Good.” It was a simple trick, but one that had weight to it. ”By the time those sirens arrive, we’ll be-“ Jack was cut short by Salem falling through the ground, and reappearing overhead. He swung both of his fists down on Jack’s head in an attempt to knock him down. But Jack, unfortunately, was quicker than that.

He slipped forward, turned around and shoved his boot into Salem’s back, causing him to tumble down face-first. Serena turned her hands into claws to try and break the manacles. It didn’t quite work.

”Enough of this. Annika, we should leave.”

He stepped around and planted a hand on Annika’s shoulder. Darkness swallowed them both up, and for a brief moment, they were back in the Everdark, slipping through like it was just an exit on a highway. And then they were on the other end of the block where Salem and Serena had found them.

Right on the steps of the library.

The Symphony: Modern Magic

Mourningdove Lane

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”What the fuck is this place?”

Mason stood in the lawn of the mansion, staring at all the windows and noting how many people were inside. He’d received a letter somehow, conveniently found on a nightstand when mom was out, outlining the fact that magic existed. Come here at midnight. It didn’t sound like the safest thing in the world, but the last week had been rough. Between his keys vanishing three days ago, and the fact that he’d lost count of how many times he had accidentally soaked himself trying to drink something in a cup that suddenly didn’t exist, this so-called “magic” was getting on his nerves.

And the longer Mason thought about it, the more it sounded like there was a bit of truth to it. Did he just get blessed with some weird superpower to delete things from the universe? It was he broken somehow? He really didn’t know, but if this weird house and the people inside it had something to offer him that could fix this? Then fuck it, he’d walk right into a fancy house at midnight.

Mason wasn’t exactly dressed for a rich neighborhood. He threw on some faded jeans and an old jacket, plus a tank top underneath. Compared to some of the houses on this street, he looked like someone’s drug dealer that laced all the products with nicotine to keep them coming back for more. Granted, nobody was even out here at an hour like this. Not that he’d be any less shady-looking, here in a fancy neighborhood at this hour looking like God’s gift to the crackheads. He stared down at the letter again while walking forward, to make sure he had the right address.

Mason, I hope this letter finds you well enough, before you accidentally destroy it.

One does not create without destruction. And for the past week, you’ve found yourself quite acquainted with the latter half of that fact. You have the potential to wield magic, the likes of which has not been seen in centuries. You’ve taken your first steps in working to control it, and I can help you prosper in that.

Come to 13 Mourningdove Lane. Midnight.

~The Archivist

He really, really didn’t like that someone was stalking him. Mason had tried to keep this under wraps as best he could, making sure not to touch things around other people and making sure he didn’t lose track of what he was doing. Someone was going to have some explaining to do. He walked up to the door, grabbed the doorknob without knocking, and the doorknob flickered out of existence.

Mason stared down at where it was for a second.

"...Yeah, I'm not paying fo-" The door swung open, without him touching it.

Yeah, that was weird.

This was going to be a long night.

"Anybody home?" He asked, walking in.

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC

Johnny didn’t even get his damn food, and there were gunshots ringing out.

”God fuckin’- Aaaalright, kids…” That couldn’t have actually been Striders, he’d just rode in with them. What, did they drop him off and circle around? Wait for him to be in the thick of things and fucking shoot him along with everyone else? What the hell kind of fucking plan is that? ”Damn well better not be no fuckin’ Striders,” Johnny groaned. He grabbed his chips and swung his leg away from the stool he sat on. ”Can’t no man eat in peace like this.” He just wanted a quiet day. An hour at most to take a break but no. Same shit, different day.

Johnny unslung his rifle from his shoulder and clicked the safety off.

”Keep yer heads down, unless you got a gun and know how to use it. Sons’a bitches…” From the sounds of it, there were a lot of them outside, slowly closing in like a predator around Sully’s rest. Which meant standing behind walls was the safest bet, so Johnny opened a window at an empty seat and used the table to steady his rifle. He loaded in a metal slug and took aim for the closed gate, daring those raiders to come through it.

”Can’t get a damn minute to eat these days. Can’t have shit,” he mumbled. ”Come on, fuckers. Open up.”

The Symphony: Modern Magic

Mason Kelly

"Fuck."

_______________________________________________ Mason Kelly Half-Elf | He/Him | 19 | White | 5'10" | 173lbs _______________________________________________ Dejected _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "Aye fuckin' aye, captain." ___________________________________ [+] Captain Kelly ⫻ Twin Pines' economy is mostly fishing, and when it's time to bring the boats out of anchor, someone's always too damn drunk or busy to steer it. So Mason picked up the skills to drive the boats and not get lost. It pays decently, even if he gets bitched at by 40 year olds who couldn't steer a toddler's toy wagon. Mason's actually pretty okay at it. Sneaky Fucker ⫻ When you're doing everything in your power to justify not coming home, it's easy to learn ways of slipping under the radar. When Mason doesn't want to be found, he will not be found. Rather, he'll find you when he does. Resourceful ⫻ It's not always easy living in Twin Pines. Occasionally, you've got to get creative to make things work, especially if you want to not go broke. If you ever need someone to glue a frayed rope back together with a lighter and a shoe, you find Mason. Mythology ⫻ Mason studied a great deal of things in the time he spent down in New York City, away from home. One of those things was the lore of old things from monsters to legends about them. He knows a few things about the sea monsters coming back, even if he's yet to see them. Logistical Shit ⫻ As silly as it sounds, Mason just wants to do something simple in his life one day. The kind of thing that lets him kick back and have the freedom to enjoy life. Working towards that vague ideal, he's good at organizing and managing numbers, or big things from distance that would give other people a headache.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Quit giving me that look, man." Mason is about as low-maintenance as it gets. He's not some businessman looking to impress the Almighty Tusk or give some kind of speech, he doesn't have the energy to give that kind of a damn about his look. As such, it's always t-shirts slightly larger than necessary, faded jeans from years ago, and the same damn sneakers he's had since forever. He's not quite poor by any means, but he just doesn't care. Mason is a lanky dude, visibly elvish on one side of his family, with ears pointed somewhere between that and human that tend to be underneath a mop of brown hair. Growing up working to help out at the docks during summers, he's put on a decent amount of muscle and is generally pretty in shape.

_{Psychology
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"Do I look happy?"

MAIN GOAL ⫻
Get the fuck out of Twin Pines and stay out. This place is slowly killing him, and he hates that. Nothing happens, there's no reason to be here, and Mason just fundamentally doesn't belong in a town that he thinks is dying.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻
Philosophy? Do I look like Aristotle to you? As far as Mason is concerned, there are okay people, and shitty people. Some people fall in the middle, and life isn't always fair to anyone in particular. Sometimes, you get dealt a shitty hand, and you can either fold or keep playing... Not that he's hit the jackpot yet.

SECRETS AND FEARS ⫻ Aside from his weird wizardly shit, Mason is generally not trying to make a big fuss about his desire to drop off the face of the planet and never come back.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Ehh... Probably straight, fuck if he knows.

WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE? ⫻ Mason was asleep. And he had been sleeping like a corpse that night, when he heard those three little words: Magic is real. He snapped awake at four in the morning, in a cold sweat, and didn't fall back asleep. He stormed out of his room and to the nearest sink to ground himself, and accidentally bumped a pair of scissors left there. The scissors just vanished. The next eight or so hours were nothing but vanishings and sheer confusion.

FLAWS ⫻ Mason has his whole life ahead of him, and he's already halfway to a decision that it doesn't have shit to offer. He's sick of living in a shitty town, chasing a life that has nothing but maybes and potential, and not enough wills and absolutelies. This makes him impatient, frigid, and just plain bitchy about several things. It colors his whole outlook on life, and if results don't come soon, Mason is liable to just pull back and try something else.

_{Backstory
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"This place has nothing. It's not worth it."

There once was a human man who came to Coney Island nearly 20 years ago. He had a one night stand with an elvish woman who was far too depressed to mind the whiskey on his breath. They went back to her place and neither of them had protection. The human in the equation wasn't there the next morning, and the happy little accident born out of that situation was none other than Mason. Despite the circumstances, Sola Kelly decided that she would raise the kid and treat him like he wasn't a mistake. Of course, she wasn't financially able to do so comfortably, so it was rough. And as a kid, the little half-elvin boy scampered around the house as his mom told her about how the world was better out there than in Twin Pines. He believed her.

Overtime, Mason's mom started to slow down a little, so by the time he was 13, he started helping her out. Doing so meant helping around in town, where people knew him as that bastard son of a woman who had a kid by a stranger. That was always a fun thing to hear people whisper about in a town where no one was a stranger. At 14, he was helping middle aged men with loading things onto and off of docks and helping organize things. They paid him directly in cash since he was working his ass off, and eventually, he started going out onto the lake with them. In a small town like Twin Pines, people didn't worry too much about what a kid was too young to do, since everyone knew him and pulled their weight just like him.

For a while, it was fine, since he was motivated and doing fine enough for a little kid. But as high school and his teen years dragged on, Mason started to turn inwards like his mom had. He started to see the world a bit less optimistically, and started paying more attention to the way people talking about him and his single parent. That kid's going nowhere. I'm surprised his mother didn't kill herself by now. Does he ever ask about his father? Dozens and dozens of little things, on top of a surprisingly unnoticeable case of something wrong with his head that made Mason emphatically disinterested in things.

Every summer, he worked himself to the bone, telling himself that it'd all pay off. Mason scraped together enough money between the sea and around town, and the occasional season at Coney Island, that he was able to attend college down in New York City with a motorcycle that he himself at paid for. It was tricky going that far, but he loved it. Mason hadn't been that happy in a while, and he did great. Then he went back for another semester, and it was the same story.

Things are a bit more rough at home now, though. He ran out of the money that he spent literal years slowly building up, having blown it all on a year of college studying a major he might switch out of. And to make it worse, Mason's mom seemed to be getting worse, mentally. And he's all too happy to stick around and look out for her, but this town is killing him. He doesn't want to be here. Seeing her son makes it easier to not be so damn depressed, but Mason knows one of them is going to outlive the other, and he doesn't know who.

_{Magic
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"Where. The fuck. Are my fucking. KEYS?!"

MAGIC ⫻ Conjuration

MAGIC DESCRIPTION ⫻ Mason woke up one morning, and found he was able to accidentally snap things out of existence. The voice in his head didn't tell him a damn thing about this in particular side of the fact that magic is real. Unbeknownst to him, he can also bring things into existence just as readily as out.

Unmake ⫻ By laying his hands on a small object, like someone's phone or their shirt, Mason can render it nonexistent. It is not hidden away, it is not stolen, it is gone. Every last atom connected to it is phased out of reality itself. And he fucking hates it.

LIMITS ⫻ Without actively controlling his magic, the best Mason is able to Unmake is something the size of a laptop. With control over his magic, this is brought down to something that can fit in his hand.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Without control, Mason will find it incredibly easy to misplace his, and others, things. Yet Mason will quickly learn that the thing that go missing will eventually be the fuel that forms the fire of a new part of his power. The more he uses his power, the more random stuff will appear around him as if by magic. These random items will not have any relation to the consumed item, but Mason will not have any control over this aspect of his power at least yet.

^{Other
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"I don't have enough fuckin' grass for this shit."

Mason accidentally disintegrated the keys to his bike.

Blizz's Vault of Stuff

Tailwind

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Tailwind

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Ability Scores

Melee 0	Agility 4	Resilience 0	Vigilance 0	Ego 1	Logic 0

Defense Scores (10 + ability score)

Melee 10	Agility 14	Resilience 10	Vigilance 10	Ego 11	Logic 10

Damage

Melee d6 x 1 + 0	Agility d6 x 1 + 4	Ego d6 x 1 + 1	Logic d6 x 1 + 0

Extra Info

Rank 1	Health (30 x Resilience) 30	Focus (30 x Vigilence) 30	Karma 0	Damage Reduction 0

Biography

Full Name: Celeste Mayfield
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 15
Birthday: August 9th, 2028
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 138lbs
Gender: Transgender Female
Sexuality: Lol, lmao
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Dyed white
Distinguishing Features: N/A
Build: Skinny as fuck
Origin: Mutant
Team: New Mutants
Base: Jean Grey School for Higher Learning
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Hobbies: Traveling, flying, seeing new places, doodling,

History
One year ago, there was a sudden and unusually strong storm that formed in the clouds above California. It threatened the cities and roads below with several hundred mile-per-hour winds that could have leveled a place as big as San Francisco, and yet the wind never touched the ground. It was like a tornado had formed right over the heads of thousands, and then, all at once, the sky split back open. Clouds were flung in every direction away from that location, buildings trembled, and the occasional window was shattered in the aftermath. The only remnant was an echo of a thunderous bang, not unlike a thunderclap, echoing off the skyscrapers and rocky shores of the state.

The most significant damage done by this phenomenon was the complete leveling of a singular house. There were two bodies recovered, a man and a woman who were parents to a kid that was never found. It isn’t hard to connect the dots between that odd incident and Celeste’s powers.

After that day, there had been the occasional police report of a teenager slipping between buildings and hurling herself into the sky. Allegedly a mutant, the reports are never terribly consistent, since Celeste was smart enough to hide her face from cameras. Every now and then, someone out in the Midwest, or on the east coast of America would hear about a noise complaint out in abandoned train yards, where the noise sounded like intense wind. Whenever someone would investigate, there was often fresh evidence of Celeste camping out in the boxcars and moving on before anyone could run into them.

Nobody was going to go looking for the common link in all of these cases, since they’re so sparse and removed from each other that by the time someone catches on that there’s a mutant hanging around, Celeste is long gone. She’s spent the last year or so just drifting from place to place since her family was killed. And the funny thing is, she’s happy like this. Sleeping in rusty trains, flying across entire states and seeing the country like she does was has been so much more fun than what she had back home. And what she had back home was nothing.

Celeste has been through most of the country, soaring around and minding her own business for all of that time. She has stories to tell about getting shot at when she flew over controlled airspace, and even about the time she almost accidentally slipped out of the planet’s atmosphere.

Personality

Fears (list 2-3 fears your character has):

Traits

• X-Gene
• Signature Attack (Aeromancy)

Tags

• Hounded
• Young
• Secret Identity

Powers

Basic Powers:

• Flight 1: Celeste uses the air to propel herself at the speed of a bird.
  • Prerequisites: None

• Flight 2: Celeste uses the air to propel herself at the speed of a jet.
  • Prerequisites: Flight 1

Elemental Control (Air):

• Special Effects triggered by a fantastic success -
  • Air: The target is knocked prone for one round (1 space of move to get up).

• Elemental Blast (Air): Celeste compresses air into a sphere.
  • Prerequisites: None
  • Action: Standard
  • Duration: Instant
  • Range: 10 Spaces
  • Effect: Celeste makes a ranged attack against an enemy in line of sight. If the attack is a success, it inflicts regular damage. On a fantastic success, the enemy takes double damage instead and the elemental type's special effect.

• Elemental Burst (Air): Celeste compresses air into a shotgun blast.
  • Prerequisites: None
  • Action: Standard
  • Duration: Instant
  • Range: 10 Spaces
  • Effect: Celeste makes a ranged attack against an enemy in line of sight. If the attack is a success, it inflicts regular damage. On a fantastic success, the enemy takes double damage instead and the elemental type's special effect.

Extra Stuff: 🎵Ghost Towns🎵

Blizz's Vault of Stuff

Rohan

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Rohan

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Character Summary

Name: Jiro Tadashi Rohan
Superhero Name: ???
Age: 19
Birthday: ???
Birth Place: Japan
Pronouns: He/Him
Gender: Male
Species: Human... Mostly
Recommender: ???
Languages: English, Japanese

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Appearance

Height: 5'7"
Weight: 178lbs
Build: Thin
Eyes: Inhumanly black
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Lightly tanned
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Lots of scars on his hands and fingers, some around his chest.
Personal Style: Rohan always dresses for the outdoors, keeping several layers on himself at all times. He prefers muted colors such as brown and grey, with the occasional splash of green or white thrown in, and is generally pretty low maintenance about his aesthetic. He usually puts on a light t-shirt first, then a thicker sweater, and then some kind of jacket on top of that before he considers himself dressed enough to walk out the front door. Rohan likes having plenty of pockets for tools or his magic items, but he also just gets cold easily.

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Psychology

Creative * Jumpy * Calculated * Dejected * Thoughtful * Exhausted

Sexuality: Rohan hasn't had the chance to stop and ask himself this kind of question, so he has no idea.
Relationship Status: Single
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Personality: Rohan is like an old man in the body of a 19 year old, always giving off perpetually tired vibes and seemingly never smiling no matter the mood. He often speaks about things as if he’s the wise old master every protagonist learns from, and seems to know things that he shouldn’t. There’s always something fundamentally off about Rohan, but he never acts like it. He doesn’t cower in fear when it makes sense to, he isn’t furious when he should be. His mood is almost always calm and subdued.

But just as an animal can show nothing and be dangerous, so too can Rohan’s demeanor hide something mean. He subconsciously avoids making a sound when he walks, and is always paying attention to where things are or what someone’s body language is conveying. Little things like these are always on Rohan’s mind, and though it might be exhausting to think about for someone else, he doesn’t actually realize he’s doing any of this. It’s just natural to him.

Around friends, it’s somewhat harder to notice this guarded behavior of his. But that’s mainly because being around people is something he makes sure to separate from his contentions to nature. Whenever he takes a walk into the forests, Rohan tries not to tell many people if he can get away with it. And when they do decide to follow him, he’ll stop and tell them to stay put. He does not ever tell anyone why, exactly, but it’s for their own safety, something he isn’t willing to explain to anyone currently.

Habits:

• Hoarding useful tools
• Staring at trees
• Watching the sun go down

Hobbies:

• Woodcarving
• Camping

Fears:

• Getting lost in the woods
• Getting trapped in a fire
• Succumbing to the curse

Likes:

• Coffee
• Early mornings
• Nature
• Hiking
• Quiet

Dislikes: At least 6

• Sudden noises
• Forest fires
• Natural disasters
• Supernatural creatures
• Deforestation
• Violence

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Cards On The Table

Powers:

• Namiki's Curse: Once upon a time, a curse was laid on Rohan by an evil, twisted monster of nature. He is now one with nature in a way most struggle to comprehend. Trees whisper his name, flowers subtly bend to be closer to him, and he sometimes finds moss stuck on his skin. This curse may one day leave nothing left of him, but Rohan has found ways to exploit this that qualify as sorcery.
  
  • Arboreal Artifacts: In the same way a mundane carpenter can turn planks of wood into a birdhouse, or carve a statue of an animal, Rohan can turn a supply of wood into magical objects, making him a kind of artificer who emphasizes natural materials. The methods by which he does this are sometimes hazy even to him, but what they do is often linked to what they are. He always keeps at least one or two of his creations with him, in case he needs to use them.
  • Renewal: Rohan's body has slowly begun to shift from flesh and bone to wood and bark. If one were to look closely, they'd see a distinct lack of warmth in his skin, and without a shirt, he looks like someone replaced his heart and lungs with a tree trunk. If he is badly injured, he can simply bask in the sun or the rain for a few hours to heal broken bones or something less life-threatening.
  • Eternal Prey: Rohan was inflicted with a sort of karmic punishment for what he did to Namiki. Whenever he walks into a place where nature reins, such as an abandoned town reclaimed by vines and moss or a deep forest, the things that live within will turn their gaze upon him and try to take him. It usually starts off small, with flowers whispering Rohan’s name or birds going quiet as he approaches. But in an hour, he’ll turn his back and trees will move and look like they were always in their new position. Animals that are otherwise skittish will stare at him like he’s their next meal, and worse things will show up before long.

General World Skills: Limit 6. These are your general, non-combat skills. Think things like painting, knowledge of chemistry, perception, fashion sense, deduction, baking, medical know how, and so forth...

• Outdoor navigation
• Survival
• First aid
• Tracking
• Hiding
• Magic item construction

Combat Skills: Limit 4 to begin with. I'd recommend 1 for freshmen, 2 for sophomores, 3 for juniors, and 4 for seniors, but use your best judgment - Keep things realistic! Keep in mind the age of your characters when filling this section. Most will probably still be learning how to use their powers in a fight.

• Ranged combat
• Knife fighting
• Sneak attacks

Coursework:

• Traditional - put down 4 class suggestions
  • 1 -
  • 2 -
  • 3-
  • 4 -
• Sorcery - put down 4 class suggestions
  • 1- Magic Artifact Handling
  • 2- Cryptozoology
  • 3- Magical Plants
  • 4-

Medical Issues/Injuries: Any long term medical problems or past medical problems need to be listed here. Put N/A if your character doesn't really have any.

• Supernaturally-induced seasonal insomnia
• Petrified wood growing out of his skin. Mainly around his heart.
• Rohan doesn't have bleed. He has a brown, viscous sap in his veins instead.

Possessions: Limited to 10 spots. This is generally the list of items that you own, just list your characters possessions. For items kept in the dorm, put a *. Students are allowed pets.

• Backpack - Multitool, pocket knife, coffee thermos, copy of Curses and Hexes 101

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History

Family: List out their family members, immediate family is required, extended family is optional

• N/A

How did you discover your powers: Rohan trespassed into a place where no human being was meant to tread. Despite warning after warning, sign after sign, he went further and further. In a place where humanity is effectively alien, he met a monster older than the Earth known today, unhindered by modern gods, irreverent of the mystical might of mankind, and indifferent to the two-legged things walking the planet. Every last leaf of the forest, every blade of grass, the very trees he walked past all breathed in the air an expelled hate and mockery in Rohan's wake.

So he burnt it all to ash.

General History: Rohan was a different person once. He lived in the countryside of Japan where people were superstitious to a fault, and for good reason. Just over a hill and down a long road, their town led into a place they called the Forest of Ghosts. From a young age as a kid, they always told him to never cross the hill, and that if he really had to for some reason, to only ever do so at midday. Not morning, not evening. Only when the sun was highest over his head.

The elders of his village told him that if he ever walked into those woods, no one would look for him. They’d just assume he was dead.

One day, he started hearing whispers and odd noises past the hill, and so the young boy snuck out in the middle of the night. He went into the Forest of Ghosts. He set foot in a place where none should go, and the second he turned around, he was lost. The forest had him, and those odd whispers became a laughter.

A rabbit ran along the forest floor and stopped to stand on its back legs, and it stared at Rohan. Flowers bent themselves into crooked shapes to slow him down. Moss crept closer when he wasn’t looking, and every time he stopped to get his bearings, he could’ve sworn the trees were moving to follow him.

That was when he realized his mistake. And it was too late.

The longer he stayed, the worse it got. In an hour, there were eyes forming out of the bark in the trees, and corpses started to emerge out of the forest floor. Rohan walked for what felt like literal weeks, never finding the edge of that place, but always finding something else. The Forest of Ghosts seemed to be normal from the outside, but once you were in there, it was a whole other world. You could walk into a valley of beautiful flowers, and the second you touched one, they would grab you and drag you down beneath a mile of dirt. Even the animals that were otherwise prey watched Rohan with the intent to kill him, whispering and stalking him at every opportunity.

Proposed Arc:

• The Axe Forgets: When Rohan killed Namiki, the curse on the Forest of Ghosts was lifted, but now it twists his soul more and more with every passing year. One day, he'll be more a monster of wood and sap than human. There's no telling whether it'll speed up one day, or kill him tomorrow.
• Namiki's Last Laugh: The more sinister side of Rohan's curse is that he's a trespasser whenever he sets foot in the woods. The trees follow him, he gets stalked by even the most harmless animals. He's always been good at outrunning these things, even when he's walking in the woods to pass the time. But the dead horror that infected him only has to be lucky once.

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Extras

Character Quote: "I'll figure it out. I always do."
Theme Song: Lord Huron: Meet Me in the Woods
Anything Else: ~Read the rules to know what to put here ;) ~
_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy. I acknowledge that I can and will be removed from the RP without warning if I break a rule or cause problems with my fellow Rpers or the GM.}

Grimoire

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The Grimoire

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Character Rohan

Expert Artifact Specialist

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Scepter of the Mountain

• Type: Magic Item
• A sturdy magical staff carved from the wood of a rowan tree. The Scepter of the Mountain's primary function is to provide a defensive aura against malevolent mystical effects. Things such as mind control or illusions are warded off when the power in the staff is exerted. Rohan mostly just uses it as a walking stick.
• Notes:

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Meridian Ring

• Type: Magic Item
• A ring of oak wrapped with two loops of wood. One from the juniper tree, found in tundras, and one from the texas ebony tree found in desert climates. Whoever wears the Meridian Ring is given access to two simple spells, one to throw fireballs and one to shoot gusts of frigid wind, without directly harming the user.
• Notes:

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Spell Name / Rune / Magical Object

• Type: i.e. Divination, Conjuration, Transmutation...
• Description: 1-2 sentences
• Notes:

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Spell Name / Rune / Magical Object

• Type: i.e. Divination, Conjuration, Transmutation...
• Description: 1-2 sentences
• Notes:

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Spell Name / Rune / Magical Object

• Type: i.e. Divination, Conjuration, Transmutation...
• Description: 1-2 sentences
• Notes:

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Blizz's Vault of Stuff

Index

Skyrose

• Strange Academy
  
  • Rohan

• New Mutants
  
  • Tailwind

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Code

[list]
[*]Thread
[list]

[*]Name

[/list]

[/list]

The Symphony: Modern Magic

Mason Kelly

"Fuck."

_______________________________________________ Mason Kelly Half-Elf | He/Him | 19 | White | 5'10" | 173lbs _______________________________________________ Dejected _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "Aye fuckin' aye, captain." ___________________________________ [+] Captain Kelly ⫻ Twin Pines' economy is mostly fishing, and when it's time to bring the boats out of anchor, someone's always too damn drunk or busy to steer it. So Mason picked up the skills to drive the boats and not get lost. It pays decently, even if he gets bitched at by 40 year olds who couldn't steer a toddler's toy wagon. Mason's actually pretty okay at it. Sneaky Fucker ⫻ When you're doing everything in your power to justify not coming home, it's easy to learn ways of slipping under the radar. When Mason doesn't want to be found, he will not be found. Rather, he'll find you when he does. Resourceful ⫻ It's not always easy living in Twin Pines. Occasionally, you've got to get creative to make things work, especially if you want to not go broke. If you ever need someone to glue a frayed rope back together with a lighter and a shoe, you find Mason. Mythology ⫻ Mason studied a great deal of things in the time he spent down in New York City, away from home. One of those things was the lore of old things from monsters to legends about them. He knows a few things about the sea monsters coming back, even if he's yet to see them. Logistical Shit ⫻ As silly as it sounds, Mason just wants to do something simple in his life one day. The kind of thing that lets him kick back and have the freedom to enjoy life. Working towards that vague ideal, he's good at organizing and managing numbers, or big things from distance that would give other people a headache.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Quit giving me that look, man." Mason is about as low-maintenance as it gets. He's not some businessman looking to impress the Almighty Tusk or give some kind of speech, he doesn't have the energy to give that kind of a damn about his look. As such, it's always t-shirts slightly larger than necessary, faded jeans from years ago, and the same damn sneakers he's had since forever. He's not quite poor by any means, but he just doesn't care. Mason is a lanky dude, visibly elvish on one side of his family, with ears pointed somewhere between that and human that tend to be underneath a mop of brown hair. Growing up working to help out at the docks during summers, he's put on a decent amount of muscle and is generally pretty in shape.

_{Psychology
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"Do I look happy?"

MAIN GOAL ⫻
Get the fuck out of Twin Pines and stay out. This place is slowly killing him, and he hates that. Nothing happens, there's no reason to be here, and Mason just fundamentally doesn't belong in a town that he thinks is dying.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻
Philosophy? Do I look like Aristotle to you? As far as Mason is concerned, there are okay people, and shitty people. Some people fall in the middle, and life isn't always fair to anyone in particular. Sometimes, you get dealt a shitty hand, and you can either fold or keep playing... Not that he's hit the jackpot yet.

SECRETS AND FEARS ⫻ Aside from his weird wizardly shit, Mason is generally not trying to make a big fuss about his desire to drop off the face of the planet and never come back.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Ehh... Probably straight, fuck if he knows.

WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE? ⫻ Mason was asleep. And he had been sleeping like a corpse that night, when he heard those three little words: Magic is real. He snapped awake at four in the morning, in a cold sweat, and didn't fall back asleep. He stormed out of his room and to the nearest sink to ground himself, and accidentally bumped a pair of scissors left there. The scissors just vanished. The next eight or so hours were nothing but vanishings and sheer confusion.

FLAWS ⫻ Mason has his whole life ahead of him, and he's already halfway to a decision that it doesn't have shit to offer. He's sick of living in a shitty town, chasing a life that has nothing but maybes and potential, and not enough wills and absolutelies. This makes him impatient, frigid, and just plain bitchy about several things. It colors his whole outlook on life, and if results don't come soon, Mason is liable to just pull back and try something else.

_{Backstory
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"This place has nothing. It's not worth it."

There once was a human man who came to Coney Island nearly 20 years ago. He had a one night stand with an elvish woman who was far too depressed to mind the whiskey on his breath. They went back to her place and neither of them had protection. The human in the equation wasn't there the next morning, and the happy little accident born out of that situation was none other than Mason. Despite the circumstances, Sola Kelly decided that she would raise the kid and treat him like he wasn't a mistake. Of course, she wasn't financially able to do so comfortably, so it was rough. And as a kid, the little half-elvin boy scampered around the house as his mom told her about how the world was better out there than in Twin Pines. He believed her.

Overtime, Mason's mom started to slow down a little, so by the time he was 13, he started helping her out. Doing so meant helping around in town, where people knew him as that bastard son of a woman who had a kid by a stranger. That was always a fun thing to hear people whisper about in a town where no one was a stranger. At 14, he was helping middle aged men with loading things onto and off of docks and helping organize things. They paid him directly in cash since he was working his ass off, and eventually, he started going out onto the lake with them. In a small town like Twin Pines, people didn't worry too much about what a kid was too young to do, since everyone knew him and pulled their weight just like him.

For a while, it was fine, since he was motivated and doing fine enough for a little kid. But as high school and his teen years dragged on, Mason started to turn inwards like his mom had. He started to see the world a bit less optimistically, and started paying more attention to the way people talking about him and his single parent. That kid's going nowhere. I'm surprised his mother didn't kill herself by now. Does he ever ask about his father? Dozens and dozens of little things, on top of a surprisingly unnoticeable case of something wrong with his head that made Mason emphatically disinterested in things.

Every summer, he worked himself to the bone, telling himself that it'd all pay off. Mason scraped together enough money between the sea and around town, and the occasional season at Coney Island, that he was able to attend college down in New York City with a motorcycle that he himself at paid for. It was tricky going that far, but he loved it. Mason hadn't been that happy in a while, and he did great. Then he went back for another semester, and it was the same story.

Things are a bit more rough at home now, though. He ran out of the money that he spent literal years slowly building up, having blown it all on a year of college studying a major he might switch out of. And to make it worse, Mason's mom seemed to be getting worse, mentally. And he's all too happy to stick around and look out for her, but this town is killing him. He doesn't want to be here. Seeing her son makes it easier to not be so damn depressed, but Mason knows one of them is going to outlive the other, and he doesn't know who.

_{Magic
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"Where. The fuck. Are my fucking. KEYS?!"

MAGIC ⫻ Conjuration

MAGIC DESCRIPTION ⫻ Mason woke up one morning, and found he was able to accidentally snap things out of existence. The voice in his head didn't tell him a damn thing about this in particular side of the fact that magic is real. Unbeknownst to him, he can also bring things into existence just as readily as out.

Unmake ⫻ By laying his hands on a small object, like someone's phone or their shirt, Mason can render it nonexistent. It is not hidden away, it is not stolen, it is gone. Every last atom connected to it is phased out of reality itself. And he fucking hates it.

LIMITS ⫻ Without actively controlling his magic, the best Mason is able to Unmake is something the size of a laptop. With control over his magic, this is brought down to something that can fit in his hand.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Without control, Mason will find it incredibly easy to misplace his, and others, things. Yet Mason will quickly learn that the thing that go missing will eventually be the fuel that forms the fire of a new part of his power. The more he uses his power, the more random stuff will appear around him as if by magic. These random items will not have any relation to the consumed item, but Mason will not have any control over this aspect of his power at least yet.

^{Other
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"I don't have enough fuckin' grass for this shit."

Mason accidentally disintegrated the keys to his bike.