Cryptek12

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

My Hider

Sheffield Dusk

Aeira Ketsueki

Azure City, Streets

Collaboration between @Cryptek12 and @soph.

---

"Why?" she asked, tilting her head.

soph

Sheffield jerked to attention when he saw the Asian girl that dropped in out of nowhere. Sitting on a guy would be fair grounds for that question of hers. But when he saw the wings, the red eyes, and the teeth, he quickly looked back to his notebook. It was a matching picture!

He looked back up to make sure. Then he checked the picture again. Back up, back down, back up, back down...

Aeira Ketsueki, right in front of him. Now that's a stroke of luck.

”Uh..." Sheffield stood up and pocketed his notebook. The man below him still slept. "Hello. Just... caught a bad guy here."

Aeira looked even more confused. She noticed the man looking at his notebook. A picture probably. But why?

“You have?” Her eyes were drawn to the man sleeping on the ground. “What did he do?” she asked, hoping the answer would tell her more about the two people in front of her.

She was slightly on edge. If she was right about the picture, then this man was looking for her for some reason. Either to arrest her, question her, or... whatever other weird fantasies he had.

“He stole some dough," Sheffield said, nudging the duffel bag with one foot. "Special 'dough' apparently, though I'm not sure why my handler wouldn't say it was cash or something."

He scratched the back of his head, but jabbed an accusatory finger at the girl. This mission should be over quick if he handled this right. "But that aside, I think you're the one I'm looking for, and someone I was curious about these past weeks. Aeira Ketsueki, The Scarlet Devil, right?"

Aeira stepped back, instinctively reaching towards the back of her head. She wasn’t as scared of that outcome. She found that many people who did kill others didn’t bother to waste their time on thieves.

“Most people who say that end up trying to kill me,” she said drily. “But yes, you have the right person. What do you need?”

Sheffield figured that he didn't have much of a reputation, much less any on the streets. But that at least meant Aeira Ketsueki was neutral to him.

”My name is Sheffield Dusk. I'm on a request by Azure City's 'volunteer department', a group of the government that handles short-term tasks handled by capable people, including me."

Sheffield took out his notebook and flipped to another page. "'Mutant identified as Aeira Ketsueki... troublemaker... likely not a...’ here, it says you're suspected of being a distraction for the unknown terrorist forces slipping into Azure Park. The MSU, if not the police or some investigators, are going to catch you for interrogation once things get cleared up on their end.

"However, right now they only want an alibi that you didn't do anything wrong. I want to talk to you to help you avoid that, but not here. Is the Rain's Knell Café alright for our talk?"

The young man stared meaningfully, hopefully, into Aeira's own.

She had been looking towards the sky, listening, contemplating, then looked back at Sheffield and nodded. “Sure, I’ll go with you. I wouldn’t have done something so boring anyway. But how do we plan on getting there?”

Sheffield walked over to his motorcycle and patted the back part of the seat. "I'll give you a ride. Just give me a moment to drag this thief off. There should be a post nearby..."

Aeira saw the motorcycle and gasped, walking up to look at it. "I've never ridden one before! It's so pretty," she said in awe.

Sheffield then let out an “Oh!” He remembered the rule about motorcycle helmets. He turned to her, asking, "You don't happen to have something to cover your face?"

The girl looked down at her arms, her sweater's sleeves covering her hands. She raised them towards Sheffield. "I can use these?"

Sheffield's lips quirked just a little into a grin.

"If you mean wrapping it around your head... it'll hopefully do. Just get on the motorcycle and behind me. I'll get us to the café in no time at all!"

--~-- (AC) --~--

Sheffield drove the motorcycle at fairly unsafe speeds. No, they weren't just unsafe; the rider edged on breaking the city speed limits again.

The two whipped past the poor vehicles stuck in a traffic jam. Crime was still recent and forced roads to be blocked off. In turn, roads became congested that Sheffield used shortcuts, small streets and alleyways, all while maintaining a fair amount of speed.

Still, he chanced a glance back at the girl riding behind him.

Aeira had a smile on her face, and was holding on to Sheffield as tight as she could without it distracting him. It was really loud. And really cold. But also fun! She was impressed at how well he could drive the motorcycle, but slightly confused. She wanted to ask about it but decided to wait until he stopped driving before saying anything.

When Sheffield stopped in front of the café, she got off the bike and glared at him, hoping to look as angry as possible. “I could’ve died.”

The young man shot back at her his best raised eyebrow, "Then why were you smiling so much?"

“Because it was so cool!” Aeira’s face of anger quickly turned to one of excitement, a large grin forming on her face. “But weren’t you a little too fast?”

Sheffield shrugged. "I wasn't keen on sitting through traffic for both our sakes. That, and I’m more used to speedy chases. I know about speed limits enough to be grazing them.”

"But enough about that. Wait here for a moment." The young man led his bike over into a wide alleyway beside the café, where a few bikes were parked and locked against posts. He took up a tarp and a cord; soon the motorcycle was covered and secured.

"Now here we are." Sheffield opened the door, looking back at Aeira.

The café would rate above average when it comes to the outside, in that there were clear windows, tables with umbrellas outside, flowerbeds, railings, and other things you would expect of a relaxing place. Being situated beside a quiet street, far from the busy ones, it seemed to just fit in.

Just; it had gothic accents to it, being mostly a scene of dark colors and antique-looking furnishings. For one, the tiles below were of smooth black brick as opposed to the rough granite of the street they were on, and a gargoyle-shaped stone door-knocker hung on the front door.

It was most definitely a café though.

“This place is kinda weird.” Aeira looked at the door knocker. “It’s too... dark.”

"Blame my boss. He went with this idea, or so the staff told me. Something about "going gothic" for a while."

The café inside had the same overall dark theme. It was spacious however, with tables and sofas spread apart for ample elbow and leg room. But it was quiet. Five patrons sat nearby together, enjoying coffee in a hushed conversation. Only a waiter or two were standing by the kitchen.

The young man waved to the young receptionist manning the desk to their side. The woman who had a frown earlier then smiled and simply waved back.

Aeira took a casual glance around before looking to Sheffield and smiling. “Where are we going to sit?”

"Here," Sheffield gestured to a table and slid into his own chair. "The café's in a grim state at the moment. My boss got injured in the attack, and he's being taken care of at a hospital."

He shook his head but came up with a slight grin. "He'll be fine though, being a mutant. Now, do you want anything before I get to interviewing?"

Sheffield took out a different device: an old-fashioned-looking audio recorder. He set it on with a click!

“No, I’m fine.” Aeira took a seat at the table, looking slightly uncomfortable. She sighed. It wasn’t the greatest timing for her to be questioned right now. She felt it was silly that she was being questioned either way, but there was no point in complaining. ‘Might as well get it over with,’ she thought.

“What’s the first question?”

An eyebrow of Sheffield’s raised. "Did you kill anyone?"[/color]

Aeira raised an eyebrow, almost laughing at the question. “No.”

“Did you knock out or help anyone?"

"No, I left right away."

"Do you happen to know who the attackers are?"

"I know just as much as anyone else."

"Will you admit that you caused plenty of headaches by jumping on top off those poor people for no reason in particular?" Sheffield's eyebrows stayed raised.

Aeira yawned. "Yeah, probably."

Then the young man turned off the recorder with an audible--

“Are you really nineteen?" he suddenly asked.

Her mind was absent before this, but the question got her attention.

"Uh... why do you ask?"

Sheffield paused to consider this. Age is a pretty common sore point...

"No, it's just that you don't act older than me, much less look it. Just a thought," he said nonchalantly.

"Oh. Yes, I am." Aeira looked down at the table, drawing imaginary circles with her finger. "What's next?"

"Lunch. Or maybe a treat. We're finished, by the way.” He gestured to the menu on the table. "You can order whatever you want as my thanks to you."

"...Except for the super expensive courses or crazy-looking ones! I know how much those strawberry peas were worth..."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up. She grabbed the menu, quickly flipping to the dessert section. "The... angel food cake, please?"

A waiter came over to them with a notepad and pencil. "We've recently gotten a supply of assorted fruits. At the moment, we're offering a choice of strawberries that taste like different fruits, tomato juice with a more salty flavor, and well, here."

He showed them the flyer attached to a little stand on the table, the kind you would flip through to see what the café has to offer.

"There's a small list, but the main food is still just as it is. Ah, and Sheffield, your sundae."

The young man blinked as the other waiter slid the bowl of sugary-fruity goodness in front of him. He pointed at it, saying, "But what..."

"Our treat," the waiter said. "You helped with the Park incident."

Sheffield scratched the back of his head in embarassment, lips curling up into a frown.

Aeira stayed silent and hoped the waiter didn't speak to her. Even if she did order actual food, she wouldn't have eaten it. Her interest was piqued when she heard Sheffield helped with the park incident.

"He did?" she asked.

"Was a vigilante, he said. We saw him take out a couple of goons and tussle with a darn strong punching mutant! That's the Red Striker for you—!"

"I don't really fight as much anymore," Sheffield cut in. "I only quit the Raiders of the Lost and still work around as a fighter, but that doesn't mean I like hearing that old name again."

Raiders of the Lost. The name rang a bell for Aeira, however faint it was. "Why'd you quit?"

As the waiter left them to their chat, the young man answered, "Shady organizations. Change in policies. And... killing." He lowered his head. "It's like they went over the edge a year ago. I'm not sure which incident made them that way, but they suddenly acted more like... ugh, the kind of people who forces their justice on others?"

The young man took a bite out of his sundae. His grimace made it look like the dessert tasted terrible, not that it was. Talking about those people rarely settled well with Sheffield. “Not that I'm one to talk, though,” he added.

"They sound boring." Aeira brought her knees up to her chest. "But does it matter? It's not like they're hunting you down or anything."

“They aren't," he agreed, wincing internally. "But with all the time I've been with them, with the things I've gotten from them... Well, it's a wonder why they easily let me go."

"You'll find them working as a private security firm now, but I'm confident they're a good match for a few pro hero groups. With a force like that, those people they sided with..."

Sheffield cut off. He bit his lower lip softly, staring at his sundae. Then he looked at Aeira.

"I suppose no one's worrying about you right now? The Raiders are just one of a couple of people interested in mutants like you, even if those wings are just for show. Are you really alright on your own in this city?"

Aeira thought back to what happened earlier. Was she really fine on her own? If more people like that existed there’d be a problem, but...

“I’ll be fine,” she said in a low tone, not truly believing it.

There was a brief period of silence. “Maybe,” she added. “How come you aren’t a vigilante anymore?”

"I killed someone."

The waiter from earlier was coming to them with Aeira's cake. Sheffield kept quiet as the waiter came and left again.

"What'd they do?"

"Aren't you going to eat your cake?"

"Okay."

She looked down. She didn't look sad or regretful, but mostly disappointed. In her mind, she was confused. For the longest time, she basically only had herself to think about. It didn't take long talking to Sheffield to see that he didn't really like killing or people who do so, but what did he think of them?

"I have a question," She didn't try to make eye contact with Sheffield. "You don't have to answer it, but it would help."

"Fire away."

"Do you think killing someone makes you evil?"

Sheffield raised an eyebrow, but he answered immediately, "No. I like to think that we do what we want, and killing... is something I personally don't WANT to do again, or the only choice I get. But I won't stop others from doing it when pushed. People just... have to do it sometimes. And I believe in choices.

“Rather, what I think you should be asking is whether killing is even okay."

"I think... it depends,” she answered after a moment. “For everyone. I think everyone would try to justify it in their own way, and it’s just an objective thing. It’s not really a yes or no question. There are so many situations where I would say sure, and so many where I would say no. But what about you?"

Sheffield opened his mouth, then closed it. He had something of a reply. He had thought on whether he should kill before taking up the name of the Red Striker, and more after he really killed someone. But would it be enough for two strangers debating this much?

He chuckled. It was sudden, nonsensical, and creepy of him, but these two strangers were talking this deeply in a café after a lighthearted interrogation, in the middle of a city of rampant crime and weird going-ons like right now.

"Sorry," he said, suppressing his smile. "I didn't mean for this chat to get this personal, in a sense."

He looked down on his melting sundae. "I don't have an answer. I'd rather give it more thought, so could you wait until then?"

"Okay!" Aeira said, suddenly much more upbeat. She smiled and started to eat her cake again. "There's no rush. Everyone has all the time in the world that they need."

Sheffield felt this girl... woman... was something of the dishonest sort. But she was cheery.

He ate his sundae as he looked up at the overhead TV in a corner of the room, running a news program. Black trucks rushed through the streets in the camera showing the footage, chasing civilian cars. Crime was just dying down at this hour.

But what was that quote about battles...? "Battle ahead, battle behind, but for now... peace."

"Do you have a phone number I could call?” he asked. “If you want, you could call me up for a talk or some help some tome."

"Yeah! It's..."

As the two exchanged numbers, Aeira finished her cake. She tried her hardest to watch the TV, but it proved to be too dull. She'd seen the same situation a countless amount of times, sometimes even firsthand. The black trucks reminded her of a lot of things, the MSU for one. If she remembered what Sheffield said correctly, they would investigate her. She imagined it wouldn't be as simple then as it was now.

Deciding to forget about it for now, Aeira looked at her phone again. Nothing. She looked at the TV again. The same thing. She looked down at her plate. Nothing! There was no way Aeira would stay here for any longer.

“Alright.” Aeira stood up from her seat and stretched. "I'll head out now,” she said, waving goodbye as she walked backwards towards the door, still unsure of what to do.

Sheffield waved back. His sundae melted. And his phone rang.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Sheffield

Interacting with: @Ellion and @Dark Light.

---

“Thank you sir,” said Wendi, “you are saving my parents… they are very. Very. Hungry."

@Ellion

Pinned to the ground. Loud breaths. The warmth of blood running down his front.

And the threat of death that she whispered.

Sheffield had to take a moment to realize he was under attack. From a bleeding girl no less, someone he tried to save.

"Dead-- dead, gods darn it, HELP!" he yelled for the man following him.

He swung his fist to pound on the girl's head, aiming to stun, then planned to force these gripping arms off.

And he knew if that didn't work, he will ram his knees up into the girl, forcing her away for more room. If that didn't work, he'll stop the two... humans walking towards him first with something. A pan maybe. Or a cuff to the face.

He was young, but that did not mean an utter lack of strength and focus. He survived much worse than these shamblers. He refused to lay down and die there.

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

Sheffield Dusk

Mentioned: @Lotrix Molick and @soph.

Sheffield’s Kawasaki Ninja

A motorcycle, mostly black with red streaks throughout its sleek frame, rushed down the roads of Azure City, narrowly breaking the city’s laws on speed limits. Its rider was a person of a noticeably small stature, wearing a black field jacket with brown stripes, dark brown gloves that made next to no wrinkles gripping the handles, grey sweatpants and sneakers staying one with the frame. Their uniform black helmet kept their face hidden.

The motorcycle zipped through cars over cars stuck in today’s rush hour, now that one road was being cleaned up from yesterday’s gunfight just an hour ago. It was totally unrelated to the Azure Park incident; just some heavily armed bank robbers tried to escape and ran into several vigilant policemen. The immediate aftermath of the incident had created a couple of opportunities for crimes to take place, but quickly died down within a span of a day.

This race through the streets was about one of those crimes. They quickly made a turn around a corner and into a dank alleyway, startling a cat and some beggars. But amongst the localized mess of mystery puddles and abandoned boxes was the runner, a man wearing a red balaclava with a duffel bag in one arm, looking over his shoulder.

The man doubled his speed. The chase was still on, but not through this alleyway. The rider turned left and steered their way through another one of the city’s darker paths. It was a classic escape through a confusing maze, but it was pointless when the rider could cut off its frightened rat by the exit.

This was how they caught the runner: by driving towards the predicted exit, one that led to a little dock next to a bridge hanging over a small, slightly gooey river, only to ram into them.

As the runner went down rolling into a garbage bin, the rider quickly nudged the sidestand down with one leg, ensuring their vehicle would not tip over. Then they took off their helmet, letting brown locks that faded to a burning red sway.

“What a drive...” Sheffield muttered. It had been a while since his last chase, but it was not like the runner even had a power to outdistance him.

The biker jogged over to the runner, looking dazed but otherwise fine. The bag itself, reported to be full of dough, was scuffed up against a brick wall of the building next to the young man. Without further ado, Sheffield slipped an arm around the man’s neck and squeezed. The runner was frantically flailing around for air before going limp.

“...the package is secure,” Sheffield was reporting with his flip phone. “I’ll return it after I complete a few more requests. Sure... okay, I’ll wait.”

He looked away from his phone and up into the sky as the mission handler he was reporting to cut off the line. The bag full of dough was at his feet, but he was told it was ‘special’ dough for some reason. How do you make valuable paper special?

Sheffield took out a notebook, small, red and compact. He flipped to a page, containing information based on his research, now with government-issued pages on notable people. Right now he looked at a girl who looked like... a certain kid-like vampire.

Mutants tended to look like someone out of somewhere totally fantastical. Aeira Ketsueki, The Scarlet Devil that wrecked havoc among bad guys at night, although apparently runaway child too. She was far from high on the MSU’s list of person of interests, but this girl was seen at the festival, hopping from head to head of people and causing mass headaches. Sheffield was to look for her and ascertain whether she was involved in the massacre.

In truth, this search was more of a middle priority given the loads of things Azure City has to do, which boasted around nine thousand mutant souls and was rampant with shady underworld dealings. This mission is related to the attack, a high-priority investigation, but apparently there were other leads.

Sheffield shook his head. Governmental bodies preferred to trust themselves. When was the last time they found a shapeshifter within their ranks or became a target of villains all around? And the maybe-vigilante had better things to do: see if Nari was alright, check on Mr. Tusk who was hospitalized, look up on Wyldsine’s requests... Well, not as important on a city-wide level, but they were important enough for his future in the city.

He sat on the runner’s back, whose face stayed flat on the floor, and aimlessly whisper-sang. He felt silly for swaying like one of those wind chimes on a breezy day too, but he was bored.

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

Sheffield Dusk

Interaction with: @Lotrix Molick
Mentioned: @FlappyTheSpybot, @Moyai, and @DarkRecon.

---

Melee Mutant, as Sheffield quickly designated the fighter that trashed the muscled mutant from earlier, thrust their gloved hands forward, palms showing. They would have made a crash course just a few feet away from where Sheffield and Nari when they seemed to stay in the air.

Then there was a rush of air. The sky above seemed to distort for a moment when Sheffield saw a burst of wind fan out from the mutant's palms. It was rocketing straight at them.

"Move!" Sheffield shouted, shoving Nari back as the ground exploded.

The blast of wind was enough to blow the former fighter back, sending him into the air for a moment before falling down. Clumps of earth flew and blocked his sight before they finally returned to the ground.

His back felt sore from landing. But he saw the ground in front of him form a crater the size of a bus tire, the earth around it forced back in a circle like a volcano as pebbles rolled into it.

The destruction of that blast was comparable to a grenade. It was common for mutants with destructive powers, but accuracy like this suggested training.

Sheffield was about to shout for Nari--who he saw just getting up on the other side of the crater--when he heard dirt shuffling behind him.

Instantly he rolled out of the way. More dirt flew, spattering his back.

Melee Mutant came after him, a punch already chambered. Their black, plastic-looking mask showed nothing of their expression, but Sheffield could feel the bloodlust.

Whoever this mutant was, they weren't bad, and reminded him intensely of someone. He ducked a punch, an elbow from top, a kick from the left, and an overhead for his temple; all of them produced wind that knocked over something as they missed. The young man hardly had a second to go for a counterattack. It was all familiar, but relentless.

Kiting was only going to stall this person. Sheffield had to do something, assuming this mutant had backup. Already he heard more gunshots close to them, possibly meant for Nari.

Sheffield let out an involuntary yelp when a chop grazed his shoulder, but his hand found a grip that one black shooter had dropped. He loosed a spray from the submachine gun, in one deadly arc that was bound to land across the mutant's left knee.

Then the mutant clapped their hands together.

Sheffield went flying again. As the shockwave blew aside the bullets, and the young man landed on his back, Melee Mutant dashed over to him.

Then they watched a grey tube-like thing leave Sheffield's hand and explode up close. Light and noise dominated the scene for a moment.

Sheffield withdrew his covering arm from his face. Whatever that mask was, apparently it had no protection against flashes if Melee Mutant staggering backwards meant anything. But here was a chance.

The black fabric that had covered his secret weapon had come off some time during the fight, one that he always held on to no matter what happened. Bare, anyone would see Sheffield holding something like a curved, smooth stick of asphalt. But as the young man slid his thumb down one end, a triangular symbol flashed red from where his thumb left, and the unheld part thinned out into a shinier, sharper blade.

Sheffield quickly whipped out his taser and struck the blade. Blue currents ran down it now like waves on steel. Azure sparks flitted from the taser's prongs as it fell to the ground.

Dusty Edge, now in 'dangerously' non-lethal mode in Sheffield's hand, whipped through the air and aimed for an arm. It sheared through padding and metal as it left a cut and a surge of electricity.

Melee Mutant hopped back, awkwardly, as they recovered from the flashbang. This impromptu blade setting was still new, but Sheffield knew most mutants, especially the 'tank' types, can survive such wounds. He held it like a torch against a wolf.

"Back off," he said, voice dry. "The MSU are going to swarm this place at any moment."

Beneath that mask, Sheffield hoped, was a reasonable person. But this person stepped back, shuddering uncontrollably, fists balled up--

Whack!

It was ringing in the back of his head as he fell to his knees. He got careless. Someone, behind him, was saying something as he scrambled back up.

“Sheffield, use it. I will hold them as long as I can, but we need to get them disabled. Civilians are dying, and MSU is coming in hot!"

@Lotrix Molick

Something familiarly wooden crawled into his hand. And yet it felt smooth and light at the same time. Nari’s frantic voice came to him, unprocessed in his mind, but then he heard a more closer, gruff voice.

"Whoa, now that's high-tech-looking stuff. That plant woman though, we got her covered. You don't mind if I take this kill, Strider--?"

Through his daze, Sheffield saw black whirl above him. It connected with a larger black shape that flew.

When his vision fully came back, he pieced the unmoving body on a tree branch to the legs in front of him, tensed and bent, just like a judo kick. Or some martial art that had kicks.

Why was he rescued? Sheffield looked up and saw lifeless grey holes returning the look. Melee Mutant's--Strider's--hand reached down for Dusty Edge.

Just as the human lifted his new leafy blade, gunshots rang out from behind him. But there were shouts too.

"This is the police, surrender now!"

"MSU, securing the area!"

"Stop that mutant!"

The hand that went down transitioned into a palm strike, right for his stomach.

"OOF!" Sheffield felt another pain, rolling over to his side.

By the time he got back up, Strider, clad in black, bounded across the park, covering distances that put most athletes to shame, and flew over a building in the distance.

For a moment Sheffield relaxed. An attack on Azure Park. Dead and wounded all around him. His sudden re-use of skills. An enemy that saved him, but was familiar.

Sheffield looked everywhere around him. Their fight had taken them through the park, leaving behind new tiny hills of dirt and craters in between. A man in orange was curled up inside a crater. The Park probably looked more of a war zone now.

What was going on?

Then time moved forwards. Gunshots were still ringing around him. People were screaming, running for their lives.

"Oh, crabapples..." he muttered.

Yes, evil takes no holidays. Sheffield still had people to save. Dusty Edge had lost its charge, but he was used to having a blunt Edge. The new sword, vines wrapped tightly around his left hand, probably Nari’s, was sharp-looking but ultimately blunt. It will do. He will have to thank the woman later. And maybe go back for his groceries.

Feeling his heart beating fast, Sheffield charged and rammed both swords into a terrorist’s throat.

---

(Raiders Scouting Notes)
Sheffield Dusk to the West, near MSU mutants and Asuka Ehime. Nari Sol in the North. MSU primarily around the West, but now swarming the ground alongside law enforcement units. Mutant known, callsign 'Lightning', approaching from the East. Terrorists are swarming and escaping through the city. Strider returning, having completed Objective One, and failed Objective Two.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Sheffield

Interactions: @Ellion and @Dark Light.

---

Her pace was slow, hardly a run at all. But they were close enough to the forest that she was able to reach the trees quickly. "Please, come look,” she called back.

@Ellion

"Gods dang it all!"

Sheffield's face burned from the scratch, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the runner. Or shambler, rather.

A little fighter, this stupid girl was. All selfless, all focused, all trouble for everyone else. She was quite the reminder of what Sheffield usually did.

A change of plans, then. Sheffield shot up to his feet and whirled on the older man. His words nearly blurred as his thoughts ran faster. "We've wasted enough time. No time for sedation. Townsfolk should be here soon, but her family's in trouble."

The young Hunter darted ahead without another word and easily stopped in front of the girl, glaring. His voice was much more sharper when he spoke to her.

"Listen here, listen well!" He took the girl's hands and pressed a new bundled up ball of bandages into them, then pushed them against her cut. "Hold that; keep yourself alive to guide me over to where your family is. I'll carry you and you point where to go. Don't help me, then I won't help you and bash you over the head and leave your family for dead, UN-DER-STAND?"

He felt a nasty taste in his mouth as the harsh words left him. He wouldn't actually hurt her even more, but this girl had to understand he'll help. He didn't wait for an answer and scooped the girl up again in a bridal carry.

"Come with me, or better yet, make sure the Hunters come, blond stranger!" He shouted back to the blond as he jogged ahead. Hopefully they won't be too late.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Sheffield

Interacting: @Dark Light and @Aerandir.

---

The girl was struggling despite her bleeding gut. She was going into panic. Sheffield quickly took out another bandage and desperately pressed it on another naked part of the cut, but for an injury this size he didn't have high hopes. And go back? But... this girl was the only one he could ask.

Yes, if this was the only way to convince her right now, without her getting into hysterics, then maybe-- no, he should move back to where he saw the girl at least, treat her along the way, ask her more. He had emergency treatment that must be enough. But where were those damnable Hunters? Where were the townspeople? Was everyone that scared? Sheffield debated getting something louder when he heard shuffling behind him.

Loud and deep it boomed with an untold authority and urgency. “STOP RIGHT THERE AND PUT THE CHILD DOWN!”

@Dark Light

Sheffield (gently) whirled around. There was a man older than him, blond, bearded, and beat up. But the young Hunter sensed many things about him.

Regardless, a misunderstanding of all times? Sheffield would not have such a thing.

"Who asks!? I am a Hunter, I have a bleeding girl, but she won't say clearly if I get far--her family is being attacked by a monster a-and right now she might only tell me if I don't treat her first!" He blurted everything he knew right now out, counting the seconds it was all taking.

Sheffield had no idea of what issue to get to first, but here was someone who might help. They would all need it, fast.

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

Sheffield Dusk and Nari Sol

Interactions: @Lotrix Molick
Mentions: @Shard, @Salrynn and @GamerXZ.

---

Sheffield took hold of a wine bottle and smashed it across a surprised shooter's visor, blinding him with sticky black juice.

Before his partner could register the sound of glass breaking, the young man shoved a taser under his exposed armpit. Electricity forced the enemy to dance for a second. As soon as the shooter dropped to one knee, Sheffield took this chance to strip him off his helmet and slam it on his temple. This one slumped to the ground, eyes rolled up.

The other shooters that had been sent Nari's way were being taken care of by the mutant herself. Five were having trouble with vines entangling their feet and creeping up and through their clothes. Two were swaying on their feet and hugging their rifles. Three were being handled by Nari herself, kicking, jabbing, snaking around like creeping ivy.

She was laughing. Laughing as she pulled one man into another, knocking them to the ground as more vines surged to tie them up. Grinning as she slapped a handgun away just as it aimed at her, sending a loud bullet into the air. Cursing when a grenade exploded right next to her. Upset as she teased part of the thrower's mask away and blew some sort of purple dust into the man's mouth.

As that enemy started to faint, Sheffield threw the helmet at another one of the black-garbed that had been carefully aiming at the mutant dancing through his allies. He went down on his bum as the helmet went clunk! on his own brain-protective gear, alerting Nari to him and replying with pollen. He tugged at his balaclava, only to inhale more of the pollen and choking loudly.

Not seeing anymore reinforcements nearby, Sheffield turned to address another problem. The man that was blinded from the juice earlier had finally wiped it off and saw a spiky green ball coming at him. He ducked--

Into another durian, which went into his jaw. He staggered before feeling his left leg give out under him. He grunted again when the durian rained down on his helmet and felt it ripped off. Then he stared into a young man's eyes. They were shadowed over a little by brown hair with red highlights, but the gunman could still see the anger in them.

Sheffield was feeling surprised, but more importantly outraged. It was only minutes ago that the festival was underway, where he had just come back to get Nari bounties of the earth when they heard the explosions. The tree mutant had flicked away a grenade in time with a vine just as Sheffield wrestled down a person dressed like the military, who expected a civilian instead of a veteran at combat.

Nari was getting most of the takedowns though. As usual, unlike a human like Sheffield, most mutants were capable of taking down ordinary people in most situations, depending on their power. For Nari, who controlled nature, an open park with so much grass and trees and sunlight was a clear advantage for her plants to sprout anywhere on the ground. Sheffield wasn't sure if creating huge vines was something she was incapable of, but she hadn't done such a thing, which could explain all those martial arts she pulled off.

Limitations. Sheffield was well aware of his own, and so he hadn't rushed off to fight more armed bad guys without his usual range of equipment. Instead, he delivered a fist straight into the man's eye.

He yelped in pain as his eye turned black, writhing in Sheffield's grip. He was pretty heavy, threatening to pull Sheffield down with him, but the young man stood his ground.

"Where's your leader?" Sheffield had a note of menace in his voice. "Point me."

"I won't--"

The man got a slap to the face. It was very hard. "I wasn't asking. Where."

"You won't get it out of me--!"

Sheffield threw him to the ground and jabbed at his face. Once the man got to holding his nose in pain, the human shouted, "Nari! I don't see any more bad guys so come here already!"

"I'm here, I'm here!" she shouted, jogging over once she made sure the men were tied up. Her breathing was loud, but her eyes were wide with excitement.

Sheffield gestured to the man holding his head. "I was hoping to get something out of this one, like who was in charge of all... this."

It was only then did the two take in the ruined festival. Azure Park was a graveyard at this point, where humans were dying or dead, gunfire and explosions replaced laughter and loudspeakers, and mutants of varying sizes and shapes held out, but not always for long.

Sheffield flinched when he heard a scream. Nari was balling up her fists.

"You did really good," she told Sheffield. "I would've been blindsided maybe a couple of times."

Sheffield had counted fourteen military-looking people they handled in total, including the one on the ground. Eleven were very clearly thanks to Nari, someone they did not expect to come with... pollen, or what it looked like to Sheffield.

He nodded at the praise anyway, noting how absurd they were, having a chat in a warzone. "You had the most takedowns. But can we talk later... uh..."

"Interrogation. Right."

She stomped over to the man, shoulders tense and replacing her frown with a smile. Then she opened her mouth and blew a purple mist.

It washed over the wary shooter, whose eyes flitted and voice slowed to moans, like it was suddenly bedtime for him. In this stupor, Nari, very sweetly, asked, "Where is your boss?"

"Th-That way..." The man pointed in the direction where a stage had been erected. The platform was for musical bands to perform on; now it was smoking. And on it were a few figures...

"Good. Now go to sleep."

The man dropped onto his back.

"Oh, right. I forgot to ask for their ringleader's name."

Sheffield shrugged. "Shame. But I think we got bigger company."

A person dressed in black was walking towards them. A mutant that had been defending himself came from behind--he was thrice taller, and quadraple the girth--and swung his arms down on the new combatant.

They punched back. A loud boom they could hear escaped from the contact as the larger mutant went sailing into the air, crashing into a stall. Wooden planks flew into the air as this black-clad person walked towards Sheffield and Nari without a second look.

"A mutant with something like super-strength," Nari observed. "Leave this one to me."

"No, we're taking this one together." Sheffield stepped forward, drawing forth his wrapped thing that had been hanging onto his belt. While they were talking, he had swiped a few flashbangs from the downed shooters and put a few in his apron. "I was a vigilante. I can help."

Nari opened her mouth and closed it, eyes narrowed with incredulity, then opened for whatever reason Sheffield wouldn't know.

Because by then, the mutant with fists to talk of was in the air.

---

At this point in time, these two were in the northern sector of the park. Further north were a few watchers...

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Sheffield

Interacting: @Ellion and anyone.

---

"Can you help me?" she called, her voice shaking with a deep fear, ignorant of pain as she stood on a nearly deserted street. There were sounds of activity coming from inside the buildings, keeping the eeriness at bay. “Please….a- a monster attacked my family. They are dying. Please, please, please help..."

@Ellion

Sheffield froze as the voice pierced through his thoughts. He turned his back on the woods.

Pain, fear, desperation--these were the feelings he could clearly hear, and incapable of blocking out. There was a person, a girl he saw, bleeding out from a gaping wound-- correction: fatal injury.

It was all decided by then. The young Hunter had lives to save. For the first part of this little act, he pulled out a lighter, a handmade device from a part of a flintlock pistol. In his other hand was a blue sphere; he lit the fuse trailing out of it with a single spark as he ran to the girl, then threw it into the air.

It exploded in the night, a rainbow of trailing sparks as he scooped up the girl. The sound the fireworks roared out should be more than enough to attract anyone. The Hunters in the tavern, in particular, should hear it. Already there were townspeople shouting in surprise nearby.

Sheffield scooped up the girl gently. She was warm, incredibly light, but blood was still dripping down the cobblestones. He hurried back to the tavern, praying the doctor he saw was still there.

"Where?" he whispered to the girl as he tried to keep her steady, fishing out bandages and mercilessly pressing them with one hand into the huge incision. Blood was finally... stopping. "Where is your family?"

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

Second character! Pending approval from @Shard.

Cinnamon Hailstride

Basic Information

Cinnamon Hailstride
- Something of an irony, given her buff appearance, but somewhat fitting when it comes to personality.
- Her father was the one who gave her this name, when Cinnamon smelled cinnamon rolls and smiled.

Titles/Nicknames
- White Strider
- The Cat with Fists

Age
16 years old

Species
Mutant

Gender
Female

Ethnicity
American-Japanese

Nationality
American

Occupation
Construction Worker
Secret Agent (for the Raiders of the Lost; she says she is a Professional Hero instead)

Alignment
Chaotic Good – She helps people if she could, although she would rather save people closest to her as opposed to total strangers. Even so, it would hurt her if she actually stands by.

Detailed Information

(Credits to 'waka (shark waka)' for their character, Ichika.)

Appearance
Cinnamon is a young woman around 5’8” (172 cm) and 143 lbs (65 kg). She boasts a lean figure with several apparent muscles, mostly her abdominals, and faint scars that came from fighting constantly on the streets. Her face is often a blank frown, where her left green eye and right yellow eye would stare ahead (or close, or intensely focused) when she is calm, but quickly change upon some situation. The worst one for people would be on the end of her tooth-gritted glare.

She often wears a dark black (or brown) coat, white shirt, equally dark trousers or grey sweatpants, combat boots, and a belt pack. Her gloves, matt black and studded with special alloy, are normally kept in her pockets until she has to fight or work. Sometimes she ties up her hair with a green scrunchie or cuts it at neck length in hime-style. Whenever she is called upon for agent operations, she wears a black beanie to tuck her hair into, a red oni mask, more dark clothing, and a special coat.

Personality

Traits: Stubborn, family-oriented, cool, rude, and indecisive.

Cinnamon is good-natured, but the type who would call themselves your friend and still call you names anyway. She admires mutants in general, although she is aware of how good and bad they can be from an early age. As such, she can be prickly towards people, and friends are rare for her despite her open demeanor.

She does not readily stay true to her feelings, leading her to feel conflicted when such moments come and ultimately try to avoid it or run away. She cares for people, especially when they get hurt, but she had received hard lessons in trying to fix things herself and has been receptive to other people.

Origin

Cinnamon was born to mutant parents Bosley Hailstride, an American psychokinetic magician, and Ran Hayashi, a Japanese mutant born with the ability to control wind, and lived in America before settling down in a city. Six years later, her mother died giving birth to her baby brother, Bailey, leaving it up to Bosley to suddenly take care of his children. Despite this change, and living in a rather rough part of a neighborhood, the three lived happily, if not at risk with the several shady organizations based around the city.

At some point, Cinnamon met Sheffield and thought they were going to be good friends until her father suddenly disappeared, reappearing in public crazily declaring himself to be Betta Bill, and began a psychokinetic rampage on a level very unlike him or his powers. It killed civilians, Heroes, Vigilantes, and bounty hunters alike by the dozens, until Sheffield, known as the Red Striker at the time, was the one who finally killed Betta Bill. Horrified, angered, and grieving, she was later sent to an orphanage where she met Sheffield again.

Having heard his confession as the Red Striker that killed her father, their relationship plummeted, and slowly mended with Sheffield’s constant visits, Cinnamon understanding that the destruction her father caused had to be stopped, and her brother and the little orphans simply being there to distract them. Even so, distraught that her father, rough but kind, turned into a mad Villain without an explanation, she went to Azure City to search for such a source. When one night got her into fighting Villains, and winning, she was invited by a member of the Raiders of the Lost into their ranks, whom she knew from Sheffield.

Joining the Raiders, Cinnamon has since then acted as a guard for certain facilities located around the city or as assault, in which she would be one of the first fighting Heroes on the scene.

Notable Relations
• Bailey Hailstride
Her younger brother, who is 10 years old. She cares for him dearly, especially when he became her last living relative.

• Sheffield Dusk
Complicated. They had met two weeks before Betta Bill’s rampage, at a mixer in which Cinnamon was forced into, and Sheffield was supposed to meet an arms dealer. They met, got along, got annoyed by each other, got along anyway, and got each other’s contact number before realizing they attended the same school a few days later. But then Sheffield killed her father.

It had been half a year since Sheffield confessed himself as the killer, whom she viewed as a justified sort of killer, but still the one who did it anyway. It took time for them to talk normally again, until Cinnamon had enough of her orphanage and ran away with her brother. Though, one of her reasons was Sheffield himself, who grew on her despite what happened.

• Bosley Hailstride and Ran Hailstride née Hayashi
Her American and Japanese mutant parents respectively. She knew her mother for six years until Bailey, whom she gave birth to and died despite her mutant constitution, leaving it up to their father to raise them. They enjoyed their years together as a family in America until Betta Bill rose up as a criminal. The reasons as to why Bosley went berserk were lost on her, and she could not believe he happened to kill without reason, which factored into her decision to find out why by joining the Raiders of the Lost.

• Raiders of the Lost
The low-profile vigilante organization that Sheffield was once a part of, which had now partnered with some shady organizations. Cinnamon was scouted by the Raiders after she ran to Azure City with Bailey, in which she acts as a forward scout and (occasional) security for some of the Raiders’ and their partners’ facilities. Of course, she was only in it for some sense of payment for her father’s crimes, to find out why her father became a Villain, a job, and a want to do good, even if it was somewhat at odds with her sense of freedom.

Resources

Decent, having an ordinary apartment to live in with her little brother. Her daytime job (construction) and nighttime job (secret agent) provide the two with more than enough income. She also has a ‘Hero’s’ license that would justify her work in protecting the peace (and avoid whatever trouble she has to do in public).

She also became the leader of her own gang, though unnamed, which is composed of many mutants and a few humans who had lost homes or are looking for friends. They act as an information network, but more importantly as backup for Cinnamon and each other, at least when it does not involve work.

Everyday Skills
• Cooking (mostly meat and vegetables)
• Taking care of children
• Throwing
• Mapping (as in navigating, drawing maps, and including important places)
• Cleaning

Combat

Fighting Style
Rush in, fight, and win, sometimes not in that order. She works straightforwardly, however impulsive she acts, but is not a fool, especially having walked through many unfair streets where she sometimes had to fight (or purposely gets into fights). She is far from adverse to using weapons and tactics, but the reason she would resort to fists would be when she wants no deaths.

She has knowledge of several Asiatic schools of fighting, most of which includes disarming and posture; that would include Japanese aikido and South Indian Kalaripayattu. However, she has a preference for boxing and (her more brutal form of) taekwondo.

Strengths
- Roughhousing.
- Any crowded fights.
- She has above average education.
- Her body is incredibly tough due to the nature of her power, to the point a knife would barely get past her skin.
- Her reflexes are very on point, particularly adjusted for her power to work efficiently.
- Doing mathematical calculations (or pure instincts) are also a condition for her if she wants fine control over her power and throwing strength.
- She has incredible willpower.

Weaknesses
- Something like a Xanatos Gambit (planning for each and every outcome to be beneficial) is beyond her, including avoiding being caught up in such machinations.
- She is an impulsive person.
- Her brother is a sore/weak point for her, along with any mention of her family or friends.
- She is a loner by nature, and is unused to teamwork.
- She is more of a human with their natural resistances multiplied, hence the wounds she takes are still significant over time.

Equipment
Her best clothing is incredibly tough, designed with her powers and fighting style in mind. Her black gloves and boots are studded with metal alloys that can endure nearly anything she punches and are made of threads resistant towards heat, burning, corrosion, and other ailments. Her special black coat is interwoven with titanium, also with the same resistances. A whip is often at her side to use to lash onto enemies or objects, whether to pull at them or herself towards them.

Her packs are often full of small gadgets and items, including cinnamon sticks that help her focus, tracking beacons the size of quarters, and a retractable baton.

Psychokinetic Enhancement

Strengths

- This ability entails adding forces acting upon Cinnamon, or an object or a person she is in contact with, using her mind.
- A punch she throws can have the force of a speeding bus, or comparable to that of a meteor if she exhausts herself. A feather as light as ever could be dropped and suddenly have the weight of a bull. Anything that leaves her will still have the power-added force until it disperses for any reason.
- One technique is to add on the force she has on her arm delivering a punch; in the instant she makes contact with her target, she adds onto the force pushing the target back, sending them flying. Another is that whenever she falls, she can act upon resistant forces to slow her fall enough to at least not take damage.
- She can immediately remove the force she adds and add on the resistant force of whatever is in her hand, allowing her to stop an attack of hers in time (if she processes the thought).
- The power also resulted in Cinnamon’s high endurance, which adapted to the rigors of using it.
- It is theorized she can emit a personal forcefield or on whatever she holds onto, or strengthening her body, though she has yet to be able to do so.
- It is also theorized her power can mutate to subtract forces upon anything she is in contact with.

Weaknesses
- The power only activates when Cinnamon comes into contact with the target.
- It cannot ‘subtract’ or remove a force.
- While she can add force onto multiple objects at a time, she can only do it on one force acting upon each object (e.g. she cannot add on gravity combined with kinetic force for her punches).
- The mental strength required to interact with an object/mass is proportional to its size. If the object is smaller than Cinnamon, then it would take next to no cost. If it is larger, then the mental strength exerted would be more noticeable, added onto the amount of force she wants to add.
- The enhancement is dependent on Cinnamon’s mental strength, which can be interfered with through mental means, putting her in depression, or such that conflicts with her mind and will.
- Cinnamon can mentally exhaust herself using her powers too much, sometimes putting herself into short comas lasting up to a day.
- There are no long-range forms of this ability, such as lifting an object with the mind.

Extra
- Likes: Sushi, close people, fighting, and TV.
- Dislikes: Villains, coffee, bad ink, and the police.
- She likes TV dramas, particularly Korean ones.
- She can speak basic Japanese.
- She won a competition in knife throwing and another in eating spaghetti.
- She has a verbal tic where she gets high-pitched when flustered, nervous or emotional.
- Her heterochromia were often a source of tease and insults. She ends up getting into fights this way too.

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

Sheffield Dusk

Interaction: @Lotrix Molick
Mention: @Shard

---

Sheffield was an amateur compared to the many master chefs around the world, especially in knowledge about food; his question about wine was proof of that. It wasn't frustrating though. After all, his passion for cooking stemmed from a simple curiosity, a need born from being independent, and quitting his first job that took up much of his time, even if people say otherwise.

But up close, the young human saw quite a fire in Nari's eyes (for a plant, not that it was funny). She definitely had the better know-how around wines, and Sheffield was going to match that enthusiasm with his want to know. That want was enough to drown out the noise behind him, followed by some crackling that would have come from electronic speakers.

"A nightly dinner for two," he started. "Or at least that was a scene I saw on TV last night. I was thinking of recreating it, but I don't think myself as that good, so I want to try something... basic. Beef and vegetables, I think."

He looked at all the liquids, guessing that their prices combined could buy out several apartment rooms. Or was it whole lands? Didn't the average high quality ones price at around $200? And that was without mutant involvement. He was starting to see why Nari Sol was popular.

"Merlot red should do, and Blanc I'll save for later, along with table wine too. I wonder if pairing wine-cooked dinners with drinking wine will go well... I'll take your recommendations if you got any though, and I'll have fruits, vegetables, starting with those -- man, I'll have to ask for a bag..."

Sheffield babbled on, listening to whatever Nari had to say. He was still aware of the noise behind, along with that quirky voice, but he was focused on his shopping. It might just be a band he could see later.