EnterTheHero

Fate/Aureum Mea

So...

Who’s hoping for what Servant and why? Personally, I’d be okay with Caster, Rider, or Assassin. Those seem fun.

Fate/Aureum Mea

Bullet Warlock

"Claws to meet claws. Teeth to match teeth. For the living to prosper, the Dead must devour the Dead."

-Kurotaka family creed

Name: Kurotaka Suzaku
Affiliation: Himself, the Kurotaka Clan
Age: 45
Gender: Male
Nationality: Japanese
Birthday: 18 September
Height: 6'
Blood Type: O

Magic Circuit Quality: C
Magic Circuit Quantity: C
Origin: Conflict and Strife
Elemental Affinity: Earth

Background: Grave robbers. Corpse-stealers. Murderers, defilers, desecrators. The Kurotaka clan is neither blind nor deaf to the insults that are hurled their way from more "civilized" or "dignified" magus families. They ignore these barbs, for they know the truth; that many of the families that deride them would not exist without the clan's actions. And they bear the insults, the indignity, for one reason alone: the living must prosper, even if none will thank them for their part in ensuring such things. Thus, the Kurotaka accept their role of undead slayers with fervor, for someone must stain their hands, and if not them, then who?

Suzaku is the current head of the Kurotaka household, a mantle he bears with pride, the first and last line of defense against the tide of the dead and damned. For a time, this role suited him; he grew and perfected his craft, doing more for the Kurotaka art than almost any clan head before him. He found siblings and loved ones in the comrades he fought with, brothers and sisters in arms, bound tighter than blood. He found a fervor and zeal for his purpose- living in darkness to fight darkness, that the light may not be snuffed out. He found a great love, an ally without peer, a friend and lover to live and die for. But happiness is fleeting in the Kurotaka line of work. And all it takes is a single mistake to rend all that which one holds dear from them.

A careless mistake. An ambush. A battle that was only barely won, and at great cost. When the results of Suzaku's mistakes were made clear, his wife was dead, slain by the enemy in gruesome fashion. Heartbroken, Suzaku returned to his duties, but he was never quite the same- a hollow shell of the man he once was, wrapped around the self-loathing and misery that resulted from his failure. But with despair always comes hope: Suzaku has caught wind of the great competition, the Holy Grail War. And more importantly, the prize; a wish without limit, granted to the victor of the bloody conflict. And Suzaku will be that victor. He will redeem himself, overturn his mistake, and return his love to life...

...For he's not quite certain what he will do with himself should he fail.

Personality: As the current head of the Kurotaka line of undead slayers, Suzaku has certain expectations to live up to. He is caring of those who serve underneath him, but also stern, for the business of hunting monsters is unforgiving. He is driven and determined, some might say to a fault, always pushing the boundaries of the family's skills and sorcery. He is inquisitive and curious, fascinated by magecraft in general, and how it differs from family to family. But most of all, he is quite straightforward- while certain finesse and strategies are required for survival, Suzaku's problem-solving begins and ends with death, at least for the type of problems he's used to dealing with. He frequently butts heads with delegates and representatives from the Association, as he has little patience for their games, politics, or arrogance.

Abilities:

• Martial Arts- Self-explanatory; Suzaku is trained in ways of harming his enemies and defending himself.
• Reinforcement- Suzaku can increase his physical attributes with magecraft, making him a force to be reckoned with in combat.
• Necromancy- Suzaku is skilled in the art of crafting necromantic familiars, with the Kurotaka family magecraft focusing on the actual art of fleshcrafting and modification. As a result, Suzaku's "bodyguards" are formidable creatures indeed. He is also talented in particular necromantic curses.
• Marksmanship- While he’s not as capable as a career soldier or sniper, Suzaku is more than capable with conventional weaponry, having incorporated gunplay into his fighting style.
• Gunsmith- Suzaku is quite skilled in tinkering with and maintaining his weaponry.

Equipment:

• Custom LeMat Revolver, "Scorpion"- Suzaku's pride and joy; a nine-shot revolver with 20-gauge underbarrel shotgun, modified and reinforced, not only to use modern cartridges, but also to withstand the strain of Suzaku's unorthodox ammunition.
• Lupara Hunting Shotgun, "Wolf"- A break-action shotgun, modified to handle larger-caliber cursed ammo. The barrel has been choked and shortened for a balance between concealment, ease of use, and accuracy.
• Ritual Components- Suzaku's tools of the trade, to ply his magecraft.
• Cash and Sundries- Assorted traveling needs; changes of clothes, a map of the area, a sleeping mat, money for food and drink, etc.

Mystic Codes:

• Devouring Teeth- The first of Suzaku's cursed bullets. Infused with powder made from ground-up corpses to imbue them with the concepts of “decay” and “rot”, the Teeth are designed to be anti-magus ammunition, meant to cut off enemy necromancy at its source. Targets struck with the Teeth are inflicted with a supernatural poison that rapidly breaks down whatever it touches- people become feeble with disease and age and waste away, objects will wither and crumble. A terrifying and potent curse. Has no additional effect against magical protections; unless they strike flesh, they’re no more effective than normal bullets.
• Red Tears- Using ancient sacraments that the Church's Keys of Providence are based on, the Red Tears are anti-undead ammunition, forcing the memory of mortality onto vampires, zombies, and other such creatures, rendering them far more vulnerable to destruction. Because they are based on a far less-refined ritual, they are not as individually effective as the Keys they resemble, though they make up for it in volume, and lack the Keys' limitation of only harming Catholic-related targets.

One Piece: Grand Cruise - A High Sea Adventure

Grimm D. Coyote

"Remind the sheep why they should fear the wolves."

-Grimm Family creed

”Of course I don’t know how to act my own age- I’ve never been this old before.”

-Grimm D. Coyote

---

Name: "Black Wolf" Grimm D. Coyote
Age: 28
Gender: Male

Race: Human
Height & Weight: 5' 10", 150 lbs.

Personality: For someone who’s spent half a lifetime on the run from Marines and bounty hunters, Coyote is a surprisingly... “chill” individual. Very little seems able to rattle him, and he’s surprisingly non-bitter for being a fugitive. His wit does have a biting, sarcastic edge to it, but for the most part, he seems calm, content, and even friendly. He does have an odd character quirk where he talks to his shadow as though it’s a separate person, but that’s neither here nor there.

Bounty: 45,000,000. WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE for piracy, murder, attempted murder, arson, conspiracy, sedition and treason against the World Government, destruction of World Government property, disturbing the peace, and public drunkenness.

...In actuality, most of the things Coyote stands accused of are gross exaggerations for propaganda purposes, or things he’s done in self-defense. He’d rather just peruse auction houses and shipping manifests for clues to his property’s whereabouts, but bounty hunters aren’t inclined to care about such things. Some of those fights got predictably out of hand. The “treason and sedition” charge is because his great-grandfather, Grimm D. Kerberos, tried to stage a revolution against the World Government and failed miserably. The crime is now heaped on the entire Grimm line, as part of the World Government’s judicial doctrine.

The charges of disturbing the peace and public drunkenness are entirely legitimate.

Origin Story: Coyote is the last of the Grimm Family Privateer Co., an organization of bounty hunters, mercenaries, assassins, and what-have-you, that had been systematically dismantled by the World Government over the last few decades, following an ill-advised revolution attempt. He ended up in the North Blue shortly after his birth, with his parents fleeing the fallout of the family’s fiasco.

Settling on an old, abandoned island christened Longtooth Isle, Coyote was raised alone, aside from his parents and the few remaining retainers who’d followed along. And for a while, things were good; he learned sword fighting, navigation, sailing, and whatever else was necessary for a budding bounty hunter to learn. He was his parents’ pride and joy, their legacy. It was he who, when the time was right, would rebuild their family birthright, once the Marines forgot the rest of their family’s indiscretion. Sadly, the World Government wasn’t about to let them get away so easily.

Coyote awoke one day when he was 13 to his home in flames, a battleship on the horizon, and his father rushing him to the other side of the island, before everything was laid waste. Quickly, his father thrust one of their family blades and a bizarre-looking black fruit into his arms, and shoved him into a small rowboat, telling him to be as quiet as possible as he shoved him off. Coyote could only watch in horror as he drifted away, as his home, and everyone within, was reduced to ash.

It’s been fifteen years since that fateful day, and Coyote has done his best to keep his head down, until the time is right. He’s still looking for any news of his family, or even just the other Grimm Family blade, unlikely as that may be. Luckily, he hasn’t had to go it completely alone- you see, he got very hungry, those first few weeks on his own. And that mysterious fruit- though disgusting- came with some unexpected benefits...

Position: Coyote is intimately familiar with weaponry of all kinds, due to his efforts and research in trying to find his family's missing blade. As such, he could be an ideal quartermaster. That said, his skill with multitasking with his Devil Fruit power has come in handy for piloting ships, sometimes completely on his own, which could make him a decent helmsman.

Goal: To rebuild the Grimm Family Privateer Co., to find the other Grimm Family Fang, and to get revenge on the World Government for destroying his House.

Abilities:

• Swordsmanship- Coyote is trained in his family style of Jäger Sword Combat, a two-sword style that specializes in ambush tactics, flanking, and rapid attacks. Jäger Sword Combat is at its strongest when the practitioner can coordinate with one or more allies who are also trained in the style, which would normally be bad news for Coyote, if not for his special advantage...
• Kage Kage no Mi- Coyote has eaten the Kage Kage no Mi (Shadow-Shadow Fruit), an Paramecia-type Devil Fruit that gives its user the ability to manipulate shadows.
  
  • Bluthund- Transforms the user's own shadow into a guardian entity, which can move and alter its shape according to the user's will. Usually takes the form of a large werewolf-like creature, or a dark doppelgänger, to assist Coyote in battle.
  • Schwarzer Reiter- Manipulates the user's own shadow into a large flying entity, for the purposes of transportation.
  • Schwarzer Tanz- Coyote switches places with his shadow, either to "teleport" across distances, or to escape harm. Can only be used when the shadow is whole.
  • Schwarzes Ballett: Wolfsrudel- Summons a number of wolf constructs out of the user's shadow to hunt his enemies.
  • Schwarzes Ballett: Krähenschwarm- Summons a murder of crow-like constructs out of the user's shadow to harass and pursue his enemies.
  • Schattenritter- Turns the user's shadow into various weapons and armor, depending on the situation at hand- shields, swords, sickles, other assorted blades, etc.
  • Schwarzer Drache- The user manipulates their shadow into serpent-shaped tendrils; the tendrils can be solid, to pierce and slash, or more fluid, to seize, bind, and constrict.
  • Schwarze Fesseln- Injects the user's shadow into his enemy's shadow, paralyzing them, and even allowing them to manipulate their body movements with sufficient concentration.

Inventory: Coyote carries one of the Grimm Family Fangs with him at all times, the Sea Fang: Gekirō (Riptide), a sea-blue Skillful Grade Sword passed down in his family through generations. He is searching for its lost twin, the rose-colored Sky Fang: Nagareboshi (Shooting Star), wherever it may be. He also carries several scrolls with detailed depictions and instructions for Jäger Sword Combat forms, from the basic to the advanced. He also has several throwing knives on his person, a hip flask full of… “questionable” liquid, a small pouch of tobacco, cigarette papers, and a book of matches or a lighter (whichever he can get his hands on at the time).

Character Progression: In addition to mastering Jäger Sword Combat, Coyote would maybe like to learn about this "Haki" thing...

Arc Suggestions: A lead on Coyote's sword, or a particularly-determined bounty hunter looking to collect Coyote’s head. Or both.

One Piece: Waves of Change/Romance Dawn/Grand Adventure

@Juro Cool. Thanks~

One Piece: Waves of Change/Romance Dawn/Grand Adventure

Might as well throw my hat in:

Grimm D. Coyote

"Remind the sheep why they should fear the wolves."

-Grimm Family creed

”Of course I don’t know how to act my own age- I’ve never been this old before.”

-Grimm D. Coyote

---

Name: "Black Wolf" Grimm D. Coyote
Age: 28
Gender: Male

Race: Human
Height & Weight: 5' 10", 150 lbs.

Personality: For someone who’s spent half a lifetime on the run from Marines and bounty hunters, Coyote is a surprisingly... “chill” individual. Very little seems able to rattle him, and he’s surprisingly non-bitter for being a fugitive. His wit does have a biting, sarcastic edge to it, but for the most part, he seems calm, content, and even friendly. He does have an odd character quirk where he talks to his shadow as though it’s a separate person, but that’s neither here nor there.
Bounty: 45,000,000. WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE for piracy, murder, attempted murder, arson, conspiracy, sedition and treason against the World Government, destruction of World Government property, disturbing the peace, and public drunkenness.

...In actuality, most of the things Coyote stands accused of are gross exaggerations for propaganda purposes, or things he’s done in self-defense. He’d rather just peruse auction houses and shipping manifests for clues to his property’s whereabouts, but bounty hunters aren’t inclined to care about such things. Some of those fights got predictably out of hand. The “treason and sedition” charge is because his great-grandfather, Grimm D. Kerberos, tried to stage a revolution against the World Government and failed miserably. The crime is now heaped on the entire Grimm line, as part of the World Government’s judicial doctrine.

The charges of disturbing the peace and public drunkenness are entirely legitimate.

Origin Story: Coyote is the last of the Grimm Family Privateer Co., an organization of bounty hunters, mercenaries, assassins, and what-have-you, that had been systematically dismantled by the World Government over the last few decades, following an ill-advised revolution attempt. He ended up in the North Blue shortly after his birth, with his parents fleeing the fallout of the family’s fiasco.

Settling on an old, abandoned island christened Longtooth Isle, Coyote was raised alone, aside from his parents and the few remaining retainers who’d followed along. And for a while, things were good; he learned sword fighting, navigation, sailing, and whatever else was necessary for a budding bounty hunter to learn. He was his parents’ pride and joy, their legacy. It was he who, when the time was right, would rebuild their family birthright, once the Marines forgot the rest of their family’s indiscretion. Sadly, the World Government wasn’t about to let them get away so easily.

Coyote awoke one day when he was 13 to his home in flames, a battleship on the horizon, and his father rushing him to the other side of the island, before everything was laid waste. Quickly, his father thrust one of their family blades and a bizarre-looking black fruit into his arms, and shoved him into a small rowboat, telling him to be as quiet as possible as he shoved him off. Coyote could only watch in horror as he drifted away, as his home, and everyone within, was reduced to ash.

It’s been fifteen years since that fateful day, and Coyote has done his best to keep his head down, until the time is right. He’s still looking for any news of his family, or even just the other Grimm Family blade, unlikely as that may be. Luckily, he hasn’t had to go it completely alone- you see, he got very hungry, those first few weeks on his own. And that mysterious fruit- though disgusting- came with some unexpected benefits...

Position: Coyote is intimately familiar with weaponry of all kinds, due to his efforts and research in trying to find his family's missing blade. As such, he could be an ideal quartermaster. That said, his skill with multitasking with his Devil Fruit power has come in handy for piloting ships, sometimes completely on his own, which could make him a decent helmsman.

Goal: To rebuild the Grimm Family Privateer Co., to find the other Grimm Family Fang, and to get revenge on the World Government for destroying his House.

Abilities:

• Swordsmanship- Coyote is trained in his family style of Jäger Sword Combat, a two-sword style that specializes in ambush tactics, flanking, and rapid attacks. Jäger Sword Combat is at its strongest when the practitioner can coordinate with one or more allies who are also trained in the style, which would normally be bad news for Coyote, if not for his special advantage...
• Kage Kage no Mi- Coyote has eaten the Kage Kage no Mi (Shadow-Shadow Fruit), an Paramecia-type Devil Fruit that gives its user the ability to manipulate shadows.
  
  • Bluthund- Transforms the user's own shadow into a guardian entity, which can move and alter its shape according to the user's will. Usually takes the form of a large werewolf-like creature, or a dark doppelgänger, to assist Coyote in battle.
  • Schwarzer Reiter- Manipulates the user's own shadow into a large flying entity, for the purposes of transportation.
  • Schwarzer Tanz- Coyote switches places with his shadow, either to "teleport" across distances, or to escape harm. Can only be used when the shadow is whole.
  • Schwarzes Ballett: Wolfsrudel- Summons a number of wolf constructs out of the user's shadow to hunt his enemies.
  • Schwarzes Ballett: Krähenschwarm- Summons a murder of crow-like constructs out of the user's shadow to harass and pursue his enemies.
  • Schattenritter- Turns the user's shadow into various weapons and armor, depending on the situation at hand- shields, swords, sickles, other assorted blades, etc.
  • Schwarzer Drache- The user manipulates their shadow into serpent-shaped tendrils; the tendrils can be solid, to pierce and slash, or more fluid, to seize, bind, and constrict.
  • Schwarze Fesseln- Injects the user's shadow into his enemy's shadow, paralyzing them, and even allowing them to manipulate their body movements with sufficient concentration.

Inventory: Coyote carries one of the Grimm Family Fangs with him at all times, the Sea Fang: Gekirō (Riptide), a sea-blue Skillful Grade Sword passed down in his family through generations. He is searching for its lost twin, the rose-colored Sky Fang: Nagareboshi (Shooting Star), wherever it may be. He also carries several scrolls with detailed depictions and instructions for Jäger Sword Combat forms, from the basic to the advanced. He also has several throwing knives on his person, a hip flask full of… “questionable” liquid, a small pouch of tobacco, cigarette papers, and a book of matches or a lighter (whichever he can get his hands on at the time).

Character Progression: In addition to mastering Jäger Sword Combat, Coyote would maybe like to learn about this "Haki" thing...

Arc Suggestions: A lead on Coyote's sword, or a particularly-determined bounty hunter looking to collect Coyote’s head. Or both.

Fate/Aureum Mea

Bullet Warlock

"Claws to meet claws. Teeth to match teeth. For the living to prosper, the Dead must devour the Dead."

-Kurotaka family creed

Name: Kurotaka Suzaku
Affiliation: Himself, the Kurotaka Clan
Age: 45
Gender: Male
Nationality: Japanese
Birthday: 18 September
Height: 6'
Blood Type: O

Magic Circuit Quality: C
Magic Circuit Quantity: C
Origin: Conflict and Strife
Elemental Affinity: Earth

Background: Grave robbers. Corpse-stealers. Murderers, defilers, desecrators. The Kurotaka clan is neither blind nor deaf to the insults that are hurled their way from more "civilized" or "dignified" magus families. They ignore these barbs, for they know the truth; that many of the families that deride them would not exist without the clan's actions. And they bear the insults, the indignity, for one reason alone: the living must prosper, even if none will thank them for their part in ensuring such things. Thus, the Kurotaka accept their role of undead slayers with fervor, for someone must stain their hands, and if not them, then who?

Suzaku is the current head of the Kurotaka household, a mantle he bears with pride, the first and last line of defense against the tide of the dead and damned. For a time, this role suited him; he grew and perfected his craft, doing more for the Kurotaka art than almost any clan head before him. He found siblings and loved ones in the comrades he fought with, brothers and sisters in arms, bound tighter than blood. He found a fervor and zeal for his purpose- living in darkness to fight darkness, that the light may not be snuffed out. He found a great love, an ally without peer, a friend and lover to live and die for. But happiness is fleeting in the Kurotaka line of work. And all it takes is a single mistake to rend all that which one holds dear from them.

A careless mistake. An ambush. A battle that was only barely won, and at great cost. When the results of Suzaku's mistakes were made clear, his wife was dead, slain by the enemy in gruesome fashion. Heartbroken, Suzaku returned to his duties, but he was never quite the same- a hollow shell of the man he once was, wrapped around the self-loathing and misery that resulted from his failure. But with despair always comes hope: Suzaku has caught wind of the great competition, the Holy Grail War. And more importantly, the prize; a wish without limit, granted to the victor of the bloody conflict. And Suzaku will be that victor. He will redeem himself, overturn his mistake, and return his love to life...

...For he's not quite certain what he will do with himself should he fail.

Personality: As the current head of the Kurotaka line of undead slayers, Suzaku has certain expectations to live up to. He is caring of those who serve underneath him, but also stern, for the business of hunting monsters is unforgiving. He is driven and determined, some might say to a fault, always pushing the boundaries of the family's skills and sorcery. He is inquisitive and curious, fascinated by magecraft in general, and how it differs from family to family. But most of all, he is quite straightforward- while certain finesse and strategies are required for survival, Suzaku's problem-solving begins and ends with death, at least for the type of problems he's used to dealing with. He frequently butts heads with delegates and representatives from the Association, as he has little patience for their games, politics, or arrogance.

Abilities:

• Martial Arts- Self-explanatory; Suzaku is trained in ways of harming his enemies and defending himself.
• Reinforcement- Suzaku can increase his physical attributes with magecraft, making him a force to be reckoned with in combat.
• Necromancy- Suzaku is skilled in the art of crafting necromantic familiars, with the Kurotaka family magecraft focusing on the actual art of fleshcrafting and modification. As a result, Suzaku's "bodyguards" are formidable creatures indeed. He is also talented in particular necromantic curses.
• Marksmanship- While he’s not as capable as a career soldier or sniper, Suzaku is more than capable with conventional weaponry, having incorporated gunplay into his fighting style.
• Gunsmith- Suzaku is quite skilled in tinkering with and maintaining his weaponry.

Equipment:

• Custom LeMat Revolver, "Scorpion"- Suzaku's pride and joy; a nine-shot revolver with 20-gauge underbarrel shotgun, modified and reinforced, not only to use modern cartridges, but also to withstand the strain of Suzaku's unorthodox ammunition.
• Lupara Hunting Shotgun, "Wolf"- A break-action shotgun, modified to handle larger-caliber cursed ammo. The barrel has been choked and shortened for a balance between concealment, ease of use, and accuracy.
• Ritual Components- Suzaku's tools of the trade, to ply his magecraft.
• Cash and Sundries- Assorted traveling needs; changes of clothes, a map of the area, a sleeping mat, money for food and drink, etc.

Mystic Codes:

• Devouring Teeth- The first of Suzaku's cursed bullets. Infused with powder made from ground-up corpses to imbue them with the concepts of “decay” and “rot”, the Teeth are designed to be anti-magus ammunition, meant to cut off enemy necromancy at its source. Targets struck with the Teeth are inflicted with a supernatural poison that rapidly breaks down whatever it touches- people become feeble with disease and age and waste away, objects will wither and crumble. A terrifying and potent curse. Has no additional effect against magical protections.
• Red Tears- Using ancient sacraments that the Church's Keys of Providence are based on, the Red Tears are anti-undead ammunition, forcing the memory of mortality onto vampires, zombies, and other such creatures, rendering them far more vulnerable to destruction. Because they are based on a far less-refined ritual, they are not as individually effective as the Keys they resemble, though they make up for it in volume, and lack the Keys' limitation of only harming Catholic-related targets.

Tales from the Spider-Verse: Spidroin [redux]

---

September 9th 20XX

---

this is only the beginning

are you ready?

---

Marcus turned the corner to see Strand- Scott- engaging with... something. Huge, green, scaly skin, and glowing red eyes, seething with malice. Waves of heat rippled off of the thing's shoulders, and its claws glowed like coals. Another figure hunkered down in the smoke, too indistinct to see. Scott launched a net of webbing at the green one, but it was less than effective. With a cry of anger, the waves of heat thickened into flames, burning and melting the web away, ignoring the scalds and burns it acquired as the fibers melted into his skin. Nevertheless, it was free, and turned its attention to Scott.

A spike of worry- half Strand-sense, half friendly concern- shot through Marcus as the green one roared and charged like a rage-powered freight train.

Get out of there!

He needn't have worried- Scott's senses must have been sharper than Marcus' own, as he flipped off the car with almost contemptuous ease as the creature battered the car Scott had just perched on away, the wreck sailing through the air like a cheap model. Good news, Scott was out of harm's way for now. Bad news? Now a flaming pile of metal was screaming toward Marcus. Marcus dug his heels in, trying to change direction as his own Strand-sense shouted in his head. FUCK--

...And suddenly, the car passed him by on either side, suddenly split into two halves, leaving him completely unharmed. Marcus blinked in shock.

What the...?

Then he saw it. His shadow warped, stretched, lifted off of the ground, shaped into a razor-sharp blade. Which explained the bifurcated car. Marcus let out a shaky breath. ...I guess that's a new power of mine. Glad I figured that out now--

D A N G E R

M O V E

Without thinking, Marcus leapt backward with all his strength, just as the street where he'd just been standing seemed to explode. He landed with a lot more grace than he normally would have- though, "normal" was a relative term- and looked to see what had caused the explosion. It seemed that the other figure had tried to pounce on him, for some reason. He watched as the figure rose up...

His throat tightened with fear. This one was even worse than the green one.

For one, he was huge. Goliath huge. Andre-the-Giant huge. He'd dressed in baggy clothes (where did he find clothes that fit), slightly tattered from the fight that had just been going on, but even if they hadn't been, they would do nothing to conceal... it. Black, oily, tar-like skin. Wide-open, insectoid eyes. And the mouth. Bear traps were more inviting than that razor-sharp maw! And even worse... it seemed to be grinning. A mirthless smile, like a shark's. Hungry.

"Another freak..."

Was that its voice?? It sounded like two people snarling at once- a mix between a grizzly bear that had somehow learned to speak and Satan. The thing took a step toward Marcus, and he braced himself for a fight...

Another explosion roared up, and both of them turned to see the green one crush another car into burning, melted scrap, roaring its rage to Strand, to the horrified onlookers, to... everything. There was a pause. And the monster turned back toward Marcus.

"...Stay out of our way. Or don't. We don't care." And with a roar, it turned back toward the green monster, seemingly eager to get back into the fight. Marcus stood there, shocked, before another spike of Strand-sense shook him back into consciousness. There was still danger here. And as much as he'd like to cut and run, he couldn't just leave this to proceed unchecked. The light dimmed around him, as though responding to his resolve.

Into the fire...

...Just as soon as I figure out how to control this darkness thing.

Baby steps...

Digimon V3

Angry Goggles Girl

”What? Ya got a problem??”

---

Name: Haruka Sakamoto

Age: 19

Crest: Courage

Appearance: Haruka is short, slim, and wiry, built more like a runner than anything else. She has shoulder-length, dusty-rose-colored hair and brown eyes, with soft, androgynous features, commonly hardened with an angry scowl. Wears dark colors mostly, to match with her favorite black leather jacket. Wears tinted goggles around her neck, in case of extreme sunlight- she’s sensitive to light.

Bio: Born to a low-level Yakuza enforcer, Haruka has never really had a comfortable sense of identity. It might have something to do with the fact that she was raised male. Despite being born a boy, she never really had typically ‘male’ features, such as a strong jawline or broad shoulders, or even a tall height. This suited Haruka just fine, though, as she realized more and more that she didn’t feel so much like a “he.” Predictably, this caused issues with her extremely traditional family, especially her father, who would routinely try to beat the femininity out of her, sometimes even putting her in the hospital. On one such occasion, Haruka was even struck in the head with a heavy object- which resulted in her exacerbated light sensitivity.

Eventually, tired of being tormented and hurt for her identity, tired of having to hide who she truly was, Haruka managed to scrape up enough money to leave her abusive household, and make her own way in the world. Sadly, the damage had already been done- rather than feel relieved to be free, Haruka was terrified of the world outside, fearful of who might react to her in the same way her father had. She tried to cover her fear with hard, stony silence and anger, which kept any potential victimizers at bay, but also left her just as alone as before, only deepening the spiral into which she now sunk.

Currently working security at a hotel (she may be small, but she’s strong and knows how to fight), Haruka is desperately trying to use her thorny exterior to her advantage, all the while never having the strength to truly leave her past behind…

Other:
Hex: cb0340

he’s doing his best

Name: Sharp
Personality: Full of energy, always passionately charging forward to the next objective. Tries to be a moderating influence to Haruka’s rage through his positivity. Hard to discourage, though he knows when to back off. Sometimes.

Stage- Baby
Species: Mokumon
Attribute: None
Technique-
1: Smoke

Stage- In-Training
Species: PetiMeramon
Attribute: None
Technique-
1: Fireball

Stage- Rookie
Species: Vorvomon
Attribute: Virus
Technique-
1: Petit Flame

Stage- Champion
Species: ???
Attribute: ???
Technique-
1:
2:

Stage- Ultimate
Species: ???
Attribute: ???
Technique-
1:
2:

Stage- Mega
Species: ???
Attribute: ???
Technique-
1:
2:
3:
Hex: f26522

Tales from the Spider-Verse: Spidroin [redux]

...stay cool.

stay cool

stay cool

keep it together

please

not now

keep it together keep it together keepittogetherkeepittogetherkeepittogetherkeepittogetherkeepittogetherkeepittogether

no no no no no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONONONONONONONONONOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGH

---

September 9th, 20XX

Nee York City Hall

---

The soft, staccato sound of hardened italian leather on particle board heralded the movement of a man in a sharply cut three piece suit. His hair showed signs of being routinely and meticulously cut, but whatever serious edge it had once held was greatly diminished by a rapidly receding hairline. A clean shaven jaw nearly bumped the microphone, causing it to release a discordant cry into the speakers for a moment. With that sound, the crowd fell silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, friends, citizens of New York,” Norman Osborn began, his voice lacking its usual gusto, “We… ”

His fist curled to his throat, holding there a moment as he steeled himself. Beneath the podium, Norman’s left hand clenched tightly.

“We have suffered a grave blow- a blow that… even I am unable to comprehend, here today. A tragic loss of so many of the people of our city. Some of our best and brightest, cut down by this heinous act.”

A short, sputtering cough forced its way past Mayor Osborn’s lips, who turned his head to avoid sending it into the microphone. As he attempted to regain his train of thought, those near the stage could see a glassy look come to his eye.

The clicking of heels echoed against the stage before a gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder, a woman’s voice whispering softly in his ear, “Sir, are you alright? Perhaps I should take over from here?”

Miss Lin Choi looked to her employer, concern etched lightly on her features as almond shaped chestnut eyes gazed into Osborn’s glassy ones from behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses sitting at the bridge of her nose. She was trying her best to keep her composure, there was no need to cause a panic but the worry for her boss was winning out over her usual stoic expression. She had been worried of this exact situation happening which is why she had pleaded with him earlier to simply attended the event and that would be enough but he had insisted that a speech had to be made and he would be the one to do so, that it was his duty to the people.

“Yes, that would be prudent,” Norman replied quietly, away from the microphone, allowing himself to be helped off the stage.

Lin stepped up to the podium, adjusting her glasses into place and tucked a small strand of ebony hair behind her ear that had come loose from the neat bun on her head. She took a moment to straighten out the gray suit jacket she wore and brushed the matching pencil skirt before addressing the crowd.

“As Mr.Osborn has stated, a horrible travesty has befallen our great city and effected so many lives, from those that have been lost and to those that stand here with us today. We honor the memories of each individual that has passed and will make sure they are never forgotten by engraving each name into a monument that will be erected in due time. For now, the police force who are diligently working to find those responsible for this heinous crime wish to do more then leave you with the promise of justice. Each amazing officer has relinquished a portion of their pensions to fund a luncheon this afternoon for all individuals who have suffered and been affected by these recent events.

“Many of us may feel lost, wondering what we can do and if there is anyone that truly understands, but remember this....we stand together today, which shows we are not alone. We stand together today to prove that we will not be afraid. We stand together to show what we believe in. We stand together as one people and this city will continue to stand strong in the face of danger, no matter the cause.”

It was a good enough speech, for some. Wholly inadequate for others. While it was appreciated that something was being done to find out the cause of the attacks, many in the crowd were not pleased at the lack of progress. Marcus shuffles in the crowd, wondering if he could find a way to extricate himself from the event, when suddenly, a massive weight seemed to crash down on him. Something in his heart, his mind, a presence that couldn’t be ignored. Unbeknownst to him, others in the crowd would start feeling the same thing- an inexorable feeling of dread, a warning klaxon in their heads screaming

D A N G E R

Then… it started small. A rumble beneath the feet of the assembled crowd. Then another, larger than before. Then they started to hear it- a boom.
The screech of twisted metal. A roar of flame. An inhuman bellow of rage.

Coming from just out of sight.

An explosion of smoke and flame erupted, now close enough to see, and the damage was done- the crowd began to panic, dispersing frantically, trying to escape this new threat before something else started to hurt or kill them. All except for a few.

Thirteen, to be specific, who held their ground; not out of any particular duty, but out of the remnant of the feeling of dread that had floored them before. And should they look around, they’d see it. Feel it. A connection had been made, between strangers whose only previous commonality was survival. They knew something was starting, from this moment on. Something big.

What they did from there, though… that was up to them.

For Marcus, the choice was simpler than he’d expected. He didn’t know what, if anything, he’d be capable of against… whatever this was. But he did know he was sick of being just a bystander while his city seemed to burn down around him.

With surprisingly little hesitation, he charged toward the source of the explosions. He’d come up with something to do when he got there.

---

what will you do now?

what story will you tell?

Tales from the Spider-Verse: Spidroin [redux]

---

September 8th 20XX

---

Marcus stirred, early in the morning, sighing deeply. He sat up, still running the conversation he'd had last night over and over through his head. Powers. He had powers. Weird, spider powers. Not what he would've picked, but... he'd get over that. And it wasn't just the warning signs in his head, either. He'd checked. He could do the wall sticking thing, too. His balance also seemed better, though that was harder to gauge more... in-depth testing. Which was what today was for. And with the school still closed, he had plenty of time to himself while his classes and internship decided on how to handle things.

He was interrupted in his thoughts by a pair of arms weaving around his shoulders, and a kiss against his cheek. In spite of the turmoil in his head, Marcus smiled as his boyfriend nuzzled up against him.

"Penny for your thoughts," said Hector, still shaking off his own sleep. "You were pretty restless last night. Couldn't sleep?"

Marcus sighed again. "Lot on my mind. With the bombing and the hospital and the school and... yeah."

"Yeah," agreed Hector, peppering another couple of kisses on Marcus' cheek and temple. "It's okay to be worried about things. Something... really bad happened to you." His arms tightened around Marcus' shoulders. "...I thought I'd lost you."

Marcus, after a pause, reached up, taking one of Hector's hands and weaving his fingers together with his. "I came back, though. I came back, and I'm not leaving again."

And for a while, they sat there, basking in each others' presence. And for now, that was all either of them needed.

---

"So, work is still kinda fucky for me. How's things at the Bugle?"

Hector shrugged, pushing his glasses up as he finished cooking his own breakfast, Marcus having satisfied himself with just a bagel, jam, and cream cheese. Bacon was deposited next to eggs as he sat down across from his boyfriend, ready to tuck in.

"Getting there, little by little. I'm pretty much a shoo-in once I graduate, but still just as an office monkey. Clerical stuff. Moving files. Still gotta work your way up to things like writing and junk."

Marcus shrugged in return. "Still better than the place you were interning before."

Marcus stopped chewing, eyes narrowing. "Don't be too harsh. J. Jonah Jameson is still a respected journalist with years of experience in the field. I learned a lot from him."

Marcus scoffed. "Sure. I'm sure you learned very well all those long prescription names he had you fetch. Or exactly how many sugars he liked in his coffee. And especially all those fancy and colorful swear words and insults he came up with." He chuckled as a piece of bacon beaned him in the forehead, grinning at his now-sulky boyfriend.

Hector glowered into his coffee mug. "...At least he paid me. And despite how crazy that podcast of his is, his name looks good on a resume."

"Hey, I'm not arguing that. But don't pretend it was anything else just 'cause you regret it."

His lip was rewarded with another food projectile bouncing off of his forehead. English muffin this time.

"Joke's on you, you're just giving me more food."

"I can live with that. Hitting you makes me feel better."

---

September 9th

---

Marcus parked his motorcycle blocks away from City Hall, grumbling as he fed quarters into the parking meter.

Bullshit spider powers, and I'm still stuck dealing with traffic. What a joke.

Yesterday's testing had gone well. Not only was he much faster and agile than even his peak days in high school, but now he was strong enough to leap across rooftops like he was in the Matrix. He could clear city blocks in a fraction of the time it used to take him. Sure he'd spooked a few pigeons. And a homeless guy or two. But it was... exhilarating, to say the least. Everything felt so effortless now. Which, to be fair, had its ups and downs.

...He still wasn't sure how he was going to explain the alarm clock to Hector. Not much he could say to cover up exploding the goddamn thing into plastic shrapnel. Which was why he was riding today, not running. Convenient or not, things were busy today with the memorial. And the less attention he drew while everyone was on high alert, the better. He wasn't sure if there were any men-in-black types loitering around, but for his and Scott's sakes, he'd rather not find out.

He huffed as he walked, glad it was still warm outside for things like this. He'd come to pay his respects to the ones who weren't as lucky as he was, but that didn't mean he wanted to be uncomfortable while it happened. Though, to be fair, he had other reasons for being here.

His head started to thrum, slightly. Like the faintest pluck on a guitar string, especially as the crowd grew more dense. He was still trying to figure out if it was just people he was sensing with his new "Strand-sense," or if, as he suspected, there were more "unique" types about.

Also on the agenda, thinking of a better name than "Strand-sense." He looked around, wondering if he'd be able to tell as easily as Scott when there was someone "like him" wandering about. He supposed he'd have to find out when he got there.

He kept his eyes open, hoping for... something. Did he want to find anyone else? Or did he hope he was miraculously the only one affected? Hard to say.

But he was certainly going to find out.