Ezekiel

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

"Sic semper tyrannis"

Name: Abraham, Gaius, Praetor, and many more.

Age: Over two thousand

Species: Kindred

Powers: Fortitude, Potence, Celerity, Auspex, Necromancy

Clan: Caitiff

Generation: 5th

Appearance: He carries himself upright and with a quick step, remnants of his days on the march for glory and conquest. His list of names and titles is long, so the short and sweet name of Abraham was taken after an old friend. His clothes clean and freshly pressed, he carries himself well but their a sadness in him and tiredness. He looks remarkably alive for a Kindred, though he carries an aura of man who carries the weight of the world. His body is fit and lean, a surprising amount of scaring dots his chest and his chin is a familiar scar of chin strap from a Legion helmet. With raven black hair and short beard, he looks the part of a young soldier and even has the manners and discipline to prove it.

Personality

Personality: Rugged, careful, and patient. One does not live two thousand years without serious consideration and planning, even as a kindred it comes down to skill and planning. Yet behind his eyes there is a burning hatred, for himself, for kindred, for all his misbegotten species. To the mortals he meets he a caring and compassionate man, yet against vampires especially those that lord and rule over he colder than artic wind. For he believes that the mortal world ought to rule over all, that men kindred, not werewolves, or magic should rule over those mortals beneath them. An eternal soldier, who refuses to stand for anything but the man he once was and hopes to be again one day.

Bio

Biography: Once, long ago in the city of Pompey, he was the man, the general, the soldier Gaius Aurelias Antonius Britannia. Praetorian, general, commander, explorer, but most of all son of Rome. He was enthralled by a leader, a general, and a good man, at the end of the Republic... The world was short on those. So he followed into war, first in the Legion then from the back of a horse his uncle in politics and him exchanged letters often. His uncle a friend of Caesar noticed his skill an competence, so under the tutelage of the man who would birth an empire Gaius would find himself a personal guard to the conqueror. Then they set for Britannia, Gaius remembers the way Caesar brought order and strength to those savage lands. Even gaining his first true glory slaying a tribal chieftain and earning glory in battle after battle. This is when he first caught the eye of his betters, the kindred of the era took note as they realized

Gaius became a general when they decided to march on Rome, to take what they were owed and to save the Empire from the greed and stupidity of it's ruling elite. Yet as this clever and capable young general fought and won, with no other ambition than to serve his commander and people. When death of the Caesar came, he wept and swore to avenge the death of his leader at any cost. When it was won he faced a choice Octavian or his uncle Marc Antony? So blood being blood he swore to follow his uncle, but Clan Ventrue saw the winds blowing and bet on Octavian. In a Skirmish in Anatolia with Gaius would meet his end. Yet fate is strange, Ventrue's warriors fell upon the General and though the mortals were brave and honorable they could not hope to win. A miracle of sorts came, a woman, Gaius himself remembers muttering the name Bellona for she fought like a good of war struck down his foes. Then without a word of explanations she took the wounded general into her arms and drank of his blood... Then gave of her own, before collecting weapons and armor then vanishing back towards the desert.

Gaius awoke in the coolness of night alone and thirsting for blood, he drained half a dozen cattle that night before starting to realized what had happened to him. He could not go home, so he vanished only appearing rarely he learned much of what he could from others... More importantly he learned of the Ventrue's secretive rule of Rome, the secrets of the world he'd never fully understood as a soldier. But he knew one thing when he saw it, tyrants ruling in secret like cowards. Taking the alias Praetor he donned his old praetorian gear he would silently strike again and again, he had no one to educate him instead traveling from Europe to Asia and into Africa learning bits and pieces. But where he went he brought his sword and a promise, to bring low those who their power to become rulers and despots.

It would take centuries for him to start to understand what he was, by then he grown to view this as an order from Roman Goddess of war. Bellona had commanded him, bring war to those who had so quietly and underhanded ruled he would bring war in all forms to those like himself an eternal war for the freedom of mankind. The Praetor learned more as he violently survived year to year alone, feeding off animals or asking humans to offer him the blood in exchange for service. He never took or demanded of mortals, no instead he consume his own kind. Upon learning that the blood of another vampire could nourish him and kill them, he turned to that as a solution. He walked many paths in his new state sometimes with trusted friends, others with childer, and sometimes at the head of forces.

The Dark Ages as they are known were a tough time for many, yet when forces needed to hunt and kill a vampire a full plated warrior would arrive. He would teach knights how to decapitate, the cleansing power of fire, and remind the strength faith can have should they truly be devote. One could say Praetor was not only outside vampire culture but actively culling it, yet unlike so many of his kin he depends not on others but on his own hands. He lived in wilds, traveled from place to place served in armies and more. He chose a life spent learning to kill man, beast, or kindred at any turn. Serving with knights, mercenaries, and more from one side of the world to the other he fought and bled Cainites where ever he found them.

When the Masquerade began he learned to fade in among them, princes would hire a Caitiff to handle problems then one day when he was close he would kill the prince and vanish. He had one simple rule to his violence, no harm to mortals and no feeding without permission few took his threats seriously one Caitiff alone? What could they do? Over the centuries, quite a lot. Though as he grew older his targets became more powerful and high generationally the only way to feed well enough to survive without the topor. Fighting in one war to the next, from one continent to another he would one day be remembered Abraham. Taking the name from a friend of an Abraham Van Helsing with whom he had once challenged the rule Dracula unsuccessfully. Now two thousands years of warfare later he knows the final battle is coming, he knows he cannot fight the topor for many more years unless he commits Diablerie upon someone a greater rank than himself.

So he chooses to face the end times sword in hand, spitting in the face of his enemies ready to die a final death in much the way he died his first death.

@Apollosarcher

Sorry for the delay in getting back to you, we're discussing this now!

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

B R O T H E R H O O D O F M U T A N T S

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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

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^{“Some would be offended at a wolf presenting as a sheep, but I have learned hard lessons from your kind, so I know the truth … you are all wolves.”}

The foundation of the Brotherhood of Mutants formed as a result of great oppression, not initially against mutantkind but under the horrific rule of the Third Reich. Born Max Eisenhardt, the boy who would become Magneto witnessed the death of his family and community first hand, all allegiance his father had shown to the German nation in the First World War forgotten in the racially motivated hatred of the Nazi Regime. A young, broken child, mistakenly buried alongside the dead, would later be recaptured by the SS and subject to the same horror again and again within the walls of Vernichtungslager in Auschwitz. Through lessons learned during his family’s efforts to flee into Poland and beyond, Max survived, narrowly avoiding the worst of the experiments done on populace as the mysteries of mutantkind began to be understood. Equally he was able to aid another young prisoner of the camps, a young girl named Magda. A blight of grave illness delayed the development of Max’s powers, beyond the usual manifestation during adolescence which is common among mutants. Together with Magda he eventually escaped into the Soviet Union, taking on the name Eric Lehnsherr and starting a new life in the Carpathian Mountains.

Eric had not escaped the long arm of oppression, as his powers would eventually manifest while trying to save his young family. For his efforts, Eric was restrained and beaten, prevented from saving his young daughter and terrifying his now-wife Magda in the process. She fled, thankfully not witnessing the destruction Eric brought upon the authorities of their home. Once again a lone survivor, Eric fled into Israel, taking yet another name as Erik Magnus. Here he found perhaps the one peaceful occupation of his life, working as a medical orderly in a psychiatric ward for fellow Holocaust survivors. These years would also result in the defining relationship of Eric’s life, meeting Charles Xavier. The pair had much in common, more than both immediately revealed, and enjoyed each other’s company through the latter’s study of the mind. When Hydra forces later attacked the facility while Xavier was still present as a part of his research, their mutant powers were exposed to each other. While they parted over matters of incompatible philosophy, to think they would end as rivals was yet to cross either mind.

As Eric’s powers grew, he began to work various Western Intelligence agencies, aiding in the hunting down of missing Nazi war criminals and the nascent Hyrda. Eric would often report his targets had died in his pursuit, instead handing over the captured fascists to Mossad, while increasingly viewing the world in a matter of mutants vs humans, he still felt enough connection to his Jewish roots to support their cause of restitution. While the Western agencies were willing to turn a blind eye to this practice when he was primarily focused on ex-Nazis the Soviets were looking to benefit from, eventually the time came when the individual in question had been earmarked for repatriation within the United States in exchange for information on key Soviet projects. As a consequence several Western spy agencies orchestrated a string of attempts to punish, and later kill, Eric. After a particularly brutal string of attacks he resolved to travel to the United States to put an end to those who hunted him at the source, taking on another false name, Magnus Xavier, for this journey.

The choice of name, obviously a reference to the last true friend Eric remembered, proved prophetic as after arriving in New York the use of the surname soon attracted the attention of the true Xavier, recently returned from service in the Korean War. Momentarily distracted from his efforts of vengeance by Charles’ optimism, he assisted in the creation of Cerebro and the first generation of X-men. Ultimately this momentary break from conflict came to an end when the agents who were hunting Eric began to strike at him through personal connections, resulting in yet further tragedy. Driven finally to the conclusion that humanity and mutantkind could not peacefully coexist, and armed with important data from Cerebro, Eric took the name of Magneto and left his work with the nascent X-men to form the Brotherhood.

Using the knowledge gleaned from Cerebro, Magneto was able to recruit powerful and willing mutants to his cause, shortly afterwards creating Asteroid M as their isolated base of operations. Principally among them at first were the Maximoff Twins and Mystique. The membership, even leadership, of the Brotherhood has changed over the years and so has their approach, ranging from supporting partisan mutant factions, championing mutant isolationism and at times, global mutant domination. Their relationship with the X-men has equally shifted over the years, ranging from mistrusted allies to hated foes, several individuals of both teams having even found themselves switching between the two groups of mutants.

Even more pressing to the purpose of the Brotherhood than their ‘cousins’ in the X-men is the changing state of the world and its view of mutants. Regimes have come and gone, the hatred burning on and on. In many ways while the X-men have always shone as the brightness of the world, the Brotherhood have reflected the wrath brought upon mutants and those who support them. They have been the vengeance to Xavier’s justice. In the most extreme of Magneto’s actions he truly threatened the safety of the whole world, although it became apparent that the use of his powers, particularly in the construction and maintenance of Asteroid M, had a powerfully deteriorating effect on his mind and stability. In the greatest of these conflicts, a battle between the X-men and Brotherhood that would eventually destroy much of Asteroid M, the true reality of Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver was revealed to Magneto. On the day he lost his first child, he had unknowingly lost twins of his own blood, carried by Magda as she fled from the destruction wrought by her enraged husband. At the time, this shattered the fractured loyalties of the Brotherhood, as much as the physical structure of Asteroid M. With the strain of the battle shattering the last of Magneto’s sanity, even the most cruel hearted of the Brotherhood scattered from his leadership. In a desperate effort to once again achieve domination, Magneto attempted to create the ultimate mutant, Alpha. While successful, his creation rebelled against him, using its distorting power to revert Magneto to an infant. The effect proved temporary, if only from Erik the Red eventually restoring Magneto to adulthood, if not to his same advanced age, the restorative work on him rectified the mental damage his powers had inflicted upon him and stabilised their use. He would never cease to be Magneto, but without the gradual slide into madness resuming again, he abandoned the worst of his aggressive schemes.

In his absence, the other members of the Brotherhood had not been idle. Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver spent the interim as heroes of humanity, rather than mutant kind, while the rest fractured, many coming to eventually aid their previous rivals in the X-men while others descended into simple self serving anarchism. By the time Magento’s identity and faculties had been restored, he had no wish to immediately call upon them, recognising that perhaps his children would experience only pain from his sudden return to their lives, and having little need of either the soft hearted or the entirely callous in the new task he had set himself.

The isolated but prosperous nation of Genosha had built its great wealth on the back of vast mutant slavery, a situation that even in Magneto’s calmed state he could not allow to persist. Seeking out the one other member of the brotherhood he could still trust to act in Mystique, the pair set about kindling the fires of a mutant uprising. With her guile and the force of his power it was a matter of months before the revolution swept the island nation. A bloody civil war raged for an extended period, but the mutants were eventually successful, placing Magneto as the new head of state. This began a period of reconciliation for both Magneto and the Brotherhood among mutants, particularly of the younger generation. Painted as a revolutionary and hero, word of his return soon spread from the island of Genosha across the world, and the Brotherhood was reformed, no longer dedicated to violent overthrow of the global order, but instead the preservation of the new mutant homeland of Genosha.

They did not sit idle, however, and were instrumental in rescuing both the X-men, and the wider world, from the ravages of Apocalypse, Magneto stepping in to fill the absence of his old friend Xavier and rebuilding his educational efforts on Genosha. This is not to say the idealistic X-Men and hard line Brotherhood do not still clash, although the conflict is often of a more competitive or theoretical nature these days, the latter are certainly still maintained to do what the heroes of Xavier’s dream could not, especially with the return of Charles to Earth.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

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Unlike the X-Men, the Brotherhood does not simply seek to ensure the survival of mutantkind, but to ruthlessly protect its prosperity and security. They may hold hopes of a similar future, but they do not have the luxury of compassion, instead playing the zero-sum game of realist politik. They have abandoned their mad dreams of global domination (at least openly) but will never be afraid to risk, and take, human lives to safeguard mutant ones.

Currently while the X-Men and Genosha react to the return of Charles Xavier, the Brotherhood continues to work both at home and abroad to safeguard mutant (Genoshan) interests, in much the same manner as any secret service of the human world. Difficult choices have, will and can be made. Recently, with yet another upswing of anti-mutant sentiment festering across the world, their activities have increased greatly, hunting down rumours of yet another planned desolation of their homeland, one they are desperate to prevent.

TLDR: Super fun mutant black ops

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

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Magneto

Known in the past as one of the great villains of the post-war era, the revitalised Magneto has undergone not just a physical transformation, but a correct of the maddening effect his powers had upon his mental state. On many occasions assisting, and even leading, his long term rivals in the X-Men. An accidental pop-culture icon of rebellion, this has reached new levels following the successful revolution in Genosha, now acting as leader of the nation as well as the Brotherhood, Magneto seeks to forge a safe haven for mutants across the globe and prevent any chance of the genocide he most fears.

Mystique

Raven Darkholme has fought for the cause that the Brotherhood represents for far longer than it has existed. One of the first documented mutants in the modern era, she seeks to bring about a better, more secure, future of Mutantkind and has no qualms about what may become of humanity in the process. She was an early recruit to Magneto's cause, and later reformed the Brotherhood during Magneto's absence. Despite being mother, both through adoption and biologically, to at least two X-men, she has a cold relationship with the group, in particular holding ill will towards Xavier for turning Rogue against her. Currently, she is one of the most active members of the Brotherhood in the various campaigns of espionage designed to ensure the safety of Genosha, as befits her skills and traits.

Polaris

Years prior, Lorna Dane was manipulated into the belief that her true father was none other than Magneto, an easy explanation for her ability to manipulate magnatism in much the same way. Having lead a lift of forcibly hiding the physical side effect of her mutation by her adoptive parents and other suffering at the hands of humankind, she had little desire to further endanger herself or become mixed up in the myriad battles of the X-Men and Brotherhood. Despite her efforts to lead a normal life, as Polaris, she has often been dragged into the conflicts of Mutantkind. While she has, out of neccesity, fought alongside the X-Men previously, she has grown increasingly disillusioned with the hope that humanity can ever be taught to accept mutants from good deeds alone. Most recently, the thought of a potential family connection with Magneto has spurred her to covertly enter the nation of Genosha, avoiding direct contact with both the X-Men and Brotherhood, seeking some evidence that the old lie may have in fact been a truth of coincidence.

Quicksilver

One half of the troubled Maximoff twins, Pietro has long had a complicated relationship with the Brotherhood, initially a part of the group only due to his sister, he has since become increasingly aligned with their mission, believing in the superiority of Mutantkind. The revelation that Magneto was their true father was taken poorly by Pietro, and during Magneto's absence, both twins left the Brotherhood to live among humanity as superpowered heroes. With Wanda's mind having deteriorated, resulting in several incidents of increasing danger, the pair returned to the Brotherhood as a safe haven where their powers were free to be unleashed. While Magneto and Pietro's relationship remains almost hostile, he now fights aggresively to maintain Genosha as a place he and his sister can be free from the persecution of the outside world.

Scarlet Witch

With the ability to alter probability, often unwillingly, Wanda Maximoff has long been both a blessing and a curse to those around her. Initially a part of the Brotherhood out of olbigation to Magneto for saving her and Pietro's life, Wanda freely left the Brotherhood after the disappearance of Magneto and has had little interaction with the struggles of Mutankind ever since. However, after a mental breakdown caused her to rewrite reality and repeatedly fall into catatonic states, Quicksilver has fled with her, seeking out their father once more.

This would culminate in the disaster of the House of M, and later M-day, with the Scarlet Witch rewriting reality one further time to drastically reduce the mutant population, declaring 'No More Mutants.' The shock of this act continues to echo across the Mutant population, and for a crime so dire, it is unlikely Magneto can shield his daughter from the wrath of those mutants still empowered.

Gambit

Few mutants exemplify the complicated and convoluted nature of the mutant factions than Gambit. Raised as a member of the Thieves' Guild and having worked alongside the X-men, Marauders and most recently the Brotherhood, his past is as chequered as it is varied. Most ironically (or perhaps apt) considering the code name of his long term off and on again paramour, Gambit could most certainly be described as the rogue of the mutant conflict.

First brought to the attention of the X-men while assisting in recovering a de-aged Storm from grave danger, the adventuring criminal had little in common with Xavier or other important members of the X-Men, and those who he might have aligned with were the kind to be most suspicious of him. Despite this, after several further encounters he would ultimately join the team. Whether this was due to a true change of heart from the Ex-Thief, or rather more to do with the Southern charms of a certain member, remains up for debate. He would, over time, become a well liked and valued member of the team. This made the revelation that he had long been a double agent working for Sinister, despite his reasons, all the more painful for the X-Men, in particular for Rogue. In their rage, the team abandoned Gambit in the Antarctic, a situation he was unlikely to survive.

The poles are a great source of magnatic power, however, and so eventually the wandering mutant became known to Magneto. He had little love for the individual who had contributed to spoiling many of his plans, but he was also in the process of building his new union of all mutants, and so Gambit was rescued from the ice, and given a place in the New Brotherhood. Since then, Gambit has worked to further the aims of the Brotherhood, taking part in the Second Genoshan Revolution, and now being sent out into the wider world to assess the existing threats to the island nation.

Exodus

A being out of time, freed from centuries of imprisonment by Magneto during the darkest years of his maddness, Exodus has been an ardent, if unhinged, supporter of the cause ever since. A mutant of frightening ability, he possesses vast superhuman powers, including telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation, and durability.

Much like Mystique, during Magneto's absence Exodus lead a splinter faction of the Brotherhood, known as the Acolytes. While Mystique's brotherhood may have represented the cunning, more reasonable, aspect of Mutant extremists, Exodus took the most aggressive and damaged souls. This compounded the most extreme elements of the Brotherhood, creating a small yet destructive faction that has caused trouble for the X-Men and wider world since their creation.

The return of Magneto and the rebuilding of bridges between the X-men and many of the Brotherhood has been a complicated issue for Exodus, a rare cause of strife between himself and Magneto. To suggest the members of the X-men are uncomfortable with his presence would be a vast understatement, yet he remains a key aspect of Genosha's defence against the hostility of mankind.

Psylocke

The mutant Kwannon has more reason than most to hate the human regimes of the world. Raised to be the perfect killer by The Hand, even before her state as a mutant was discovered she was forcibly outcast from the normal strata of society. Her loyalty was ensured through a combination of coercion and indoctrination, but it wasn't perfect. Even as she was making a name for herself as the deadliest of assassins in the Japanese underworld, she fell in love and fell pregnant. In displeasure, the Hand slew her lover and took her daughter from her, giving them yet more control over the peerless assassin. Eventually, however, she was able to break free and slay her masters, before setting out to locate her daughter.

Sadly, before she could proceed further in her task, a series of events resulted in the mind of Betsy Braddock taking over Kwannon's body. For this time, Betsy continued under the name of Psylocke, despite wearing the skin of a different woman, and carried on fighting as a member of Xavier's X-men. Eventually Kwannon was able to return to her true form. The blooded murderess had little in common with the idealistic X-men, and so while she continued to use the name Psylocke, she drifted away from the team. Eventually, she would join the Brotherhood, a union of mutants with more place for her deadly skills, under the promise of vengeance upon those who had wronged her and assistance in locating her daughter.

Of the active members of the Brotherhood, she has one of the most workable relationships with the membership of the X-Men, having little in the way of direct conflict with them, and benefitting from many of the X-Men not being entirely able to differentiate her from the Psylocke who fought by their side for years.

S A M P L E P O S T:

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"You aren't supposed to be in here, trooper."

"No, but you are." As the man turned from the terminal to face the approaching soldier, the features he confronted began to swim and shift, a flash of blue, before they reformed. For the briefest of moment's, it was like gazing into a mirror. A mirror which immediately punched him straight in the throat. The system shock was immediate, doubling over in a splutter of desperate breathing. He was utterly unable to anticipate the elbow, his elbow for all appearances, which slammed down into the back of his head, his cranium immediately rebounding off the desk he had been sitting at, the pain of both strikes only interrupted by the sudden loss of consciousness. The figure now wearing the officer's face easily slid into the chair, drawing themselves up to the station.

"Identification required, please complete iris scan." The security fell away as the body double lent down to provide the reading. Around the capital of Hammer Bay, similar terminals were being accessed as the Resistance launched their great gambit. This, however, was the nexus, the primary access point that could only be interfaced by the highest ranking of the Magistrates.

That, or someone wearing their faces.

Once she had passed the scans, Mystique allowed the false skin of the Magistrate office to fall away, her own deep blue skin swallowing the light cast by the computer screen in a matter wholly different to baseline humans. Her fingers still worked away, inputting the code she had written herself. Some things you couldn't leave up to others, no matter how many hands you could now command. With a flick of her wrist, she placed a finger to her ear, triggering the comm-bead within.

"All cells reporting green, terminating broadcast." As she spoke, the virus placed within each of the government's broadcasting stations began to work, eating away at the code to leave it an inoperable tangle of scrambled data. Far from simply cutting off communication, the psychic signals influencing the minds of the countless slave-mutates began to fizzle and fade across the capital, the greatest main holdout of the Magistrate government. A momentary lapse, before the Brotherhood's transmission replaced it, forcibly played across screens and radios over the entire Genoshan nation.

"You're live, Eric." Mystique lent back in the comfortable padding of the chair as the very same screen she had used to begin the pirate broadcast had the very same message imposed upon it.

From imposed darkness, the figure of Magneto drifted into view, his iconic helm, a symbol that had been rallied to by free mutants across the state of Genosha, framing the details of his face as piercing, charismatic, eye bore into the camera.

"Brothers and Sisters, Mutants of Genosha, bask now in the freedom we have won for you." The magnetism of metal was not the only form that Magneto commanded, the fiery zeal of his words flooding across the nation to both current freedom fighters and those newly freed by the failing mental controls the Magistrates had reinstated since their return to power. "Now is not the time for reconciliation, the humans were offered peace, and they repaid it with throwing you back in bonds, no, it is time they learn what we already know, that there is no place to hide. Rise up, Children of Atom, and claim the future that is our right." As the simple but direct message came to an end, the seat from which Mystique had instigated the broadcast was already empty, the Magistrate slumped across the floor waking up to a Genosha entirely changed in the scant moments of his unconsciousness.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

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TBC

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

Woo!

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5361387 is complete! Minus me finding some art I like for a few of the primary characters, but don't suppose that matters for judging if I'm good to start writing!

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

Still got to write some individual summaries for the members and a sample post, but whacking this here for now

The Brotherhood of Mutants

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

B R O T H E R H O O D O F M U T A N T S

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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

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^{“Some would be offended at a wolf presenting as a sheep, but I have learned hard lessons from your kind, so I know the truth … you are all wolves.”}

The foundation of the Brotherhood of Mutants formed as a result of great oppression, not initially against mutantkind but under the horrific rule of the Third Reich. Born Max Eisenhardt, the boy who would become Magneto witnessed the death of his family and community first hand, all allegiance his father had shown to the German nation in the First World War forgotten in the racially motivated hatred of the Nazi Regime. A young, broken child, mistakenly buried alongside the dead, would later be recaptured by the SS and subject to the same horror again and again within the walls of Vernichtungslager in Auschwitz. Through lessons learned during his family’s efforts to flee into Poland and beyond, Max survived, narrowly avoiding the worst of the experiments done on populace as the mysteries of mutantkind began to be understood. Equally he was able to aid another young prisoner of the camps, a young girl named Magda. A blight of grave illness delayed the development of Max’s powers, beyond the usual manifestation during adolescence which is common among mutants. Together with Magda he eventually escaped into the Soviet Union, taking on the name Eric Lehnsherr and starting a new life in the Carpathian Mountains.

Eric had not escaped the long arm of oppression, as his powers would eventually manifest while trying to save his young family. For his efforts, Eric was restrained and beaten, prevented from saving his young daughter and terrifying his now-wife Magda in the process. She fled, thankfully not witnessing the destruction Eric brought upon the authorities of their home. Once again a lone survivor, Eric fled into Israel, taking yet another name as Erik Magnus. Here he found perhaps the one peaceful occupation of his life, working as a medical orderly in a psychiatric ward for fellow Holocaust survivors. These years would also result in the defining relationship of Eric’s life, meeting Charles Xavier. The pair had much in common, more than both immediately revealed, and enjoyed each other’s company through the latter’s study of the mind. When Hydra forces later attacked the facility while Xavier was still present as a part of his research, their mutant powers were exposed to each other. While they parted over matters of incompatible philosophy, to think they would end as rivals was yet to cross either mind.

As Eric’s powers grew, he began to work various Western Intelligence agencies, aiding in the hunting down of missing Nazi war criminals and the nascent Hyrda. Eric would often report his targets had died in his pursuit, instead handing over the captured fascists to Mossad, while increasingly viewing the world in a matter of mutants vs humans, he still felt enough connection to his Jewish roots to support their cause of restitution. While the Western agencies were willing to turn a blind eye to this practice when he was primarily focused on ex-Nazis the Soviets were looking to benefit from, eventually the time came when the individual in question had been earmarked for repatriation within the United States in exchange for information on key Soviet projects. As a consequence several Western spy agencies orchestrated a string of attempts to punish, and later kill, Eric. After a particularly brutal string of attacks he resolved to travel to the United States to put an end to those who hunted him at the source, taking on another false name, Magnus Xavier, for this journey.

The choice of name, obviously a reference to the last true friend Eric remembered, proved prophetic as after arriving in New York the use of the surname soon attracted the attention of the true Xavier, recently returned from service in the Korean War. Momentarily distracted from his efforts of vengeance by Charles’ optimism, he assisted in the creation of Cerebro and the first generation of X-men. Ultimately this momentary break from conflict came to an end when the agents who were hunting Eric began to strike at him through personal connections, resulting in yet further tragedy. Driven finally to the conclusion that humanity and mutantkind could not peacefully coexist, and armed with important data from Cerebro, Eric took the name of Magneto and left his work with the nascent X-men to form the Brotherhood.

Using the knowledge gleaned from Cerebro, Magneto was able to recruit powerful and willing mutants to his cause, shortly afterwards creating Asteroid M as their isolated base of operations. Principally among them at first were the Maximoff Twins and Mystique. The membership, even leadership, of the Brotherhood has changed over the years and so has their approach, ranging from supporting partisan mutant factions, championing mutant isolationism and at times, global mutant domination. Their relationship with the X-men has equally shifted over the years, ranging from mistrusted allies to hated foes, several individuals of both teams having even found themselves switching between the two groups of mutants.

Even more pressing to the purpose of the Brotherhood than their ‘cousins’ in the X-men is the changing state of the world and its view of mutants. Regimes have come and gone, the hatred burning on and on. In many ways while the X-men have always shone as the brightness of the world, the Brotherhood have reflected the wrath brought upon mutants and those who support them. They have been the vengeance to Xavier’s justice. In the most extreme of Magneto’s actions he truly threatened the safety of the whole world, although it became apparent that the use of his powers, particularly in the construction and maintenance of Asteroid M, had a powerfully deteriorating effect on his mind and stability. In the greatest of these conflicts, a battle between the X-men and Brotherhood that would eventually destroy much of Asteroid M, the true reality of Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver was revealed to Magneto. On the day he lost his first child, he had unknowingly lost twins of his own blood, carried by Magda as she fled from the destruction wrought by her enraged husband. At the time, this shattered the fractured loyalties of the Brotherhood, as much as the physical structure of Asteroid M. With the strain of the battle shattering the last of Magneto’s sanity, even the most cruel hearted of the Brotherhood scattered from his leadership. In a desperate effort to once again achieve domination, Magneto attempted to create the ultimate mutant, Alpha. While successful, his creation rebelled against him, using its distorting power to revert Magneto to an infant. The effect proved temporary, if only from Erik the Red eventually restoring Magneto to adulthood, if not to his same advanced age, the restorative work on him rectified the mental damage his powers had inflicted upon him and stabilised their use. He would never cease to be Magneto, but without the gradual slide into madness resuming again, he abandoned the worst of his aggressive schemes.

In his absence, the other members of the Brotherhood had not been idle. Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver spent the interim as heroes of humanity, rather than mutant kind, while the rest fractured, many coming to eventually aid their previous rivals in the X-men while others descended into simple self serving anarchism. By the time Magento’s identity and faculties had been restored, he had no wish to immediately call upon them, recognising that perhaps his children would experience only pain from his sudden return to their lives, and having little need of either the soft hearted or the entirely callous in the new task he had set himself.

The isolated but prosperous nation of Genosha had built its great wealth on the back of vast mutant slavery, a situation that even in Magneto’s calmed state he could not allow to persist. Seeking out the one other member of the brotherhood he could still trust to act in Mystique, the pair set about kindling the fires of a mutant uprising. With her guile and the force of his power it was a matter of months before the revolution swept the island nation. A bloody civil war raged for an extended period, but the mutants were eventually successful, placing Magneto as the new head of state. This began a period of reconciliation for both Magneto and the Brotherhood among mutants, particularly of the younger generation. Painted as a revolutionary and hero, word of his return soon spread from the island of Genosha across the world, and the Brotherhood was reformed, no longer dedicated to violent overthrow of the global order, but instead the preservation of the new mutant homeland of Genosha.

They did not sit idle, however, and were instrumental in rescuing both the X-men, and the wider world, from the ravages of Apocalypse, Magneto stepping in to fill the absence of his old friend Xavier and rebuilding his educational efforts on Genosha. This is not to say the idealistic X-Men and hard line Brotherhood do not still clash, although the conflict is often of a more competitive or theoretical nature these days, the latter are certainly still maintained to do what the heroes of Xavier’s dream could not, especially with the return of Charles to Earth.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

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Unlike the X-Men, the Brotherhood does not simply seek to ensure the survival of mutantkind, but to ruthlessly protect its prosperity and security. They may hold hopes of a similar future, but they do not have the luxury of compassion, instead playing the zero-sum game of realist politik. They have abandoned their mad dreams of global domination (at least openly) but will never be afraid to risk, and take, human lives to safeguard mutant ones.

Currently while the X-Men and Genosha react to the return of Charles Xavier, the Brotherhood continues to work both at home and abroad to safeguard mutant (Genoshan) interests, in much the same manner as any secret service of the human world. Difficult choices have, will and can be made. Recently, with yet another upswing of anti-mutant sentiment festering across the world, their activities have increased greatly, hunting down rumours of yet another planned desolation of their homeland, one they are desperate to prevent.

TLDR: Super fun mutant black ops

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

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Magneto

Known in the past as one of the great villains of the post-war era, the revitalised Magneto has undergone not just a physical transformation, but a correct of the maddening effect his powers had upon his mental state. On many occasions assisting, and even leading, his long term rivals in the X-Men. An accidental pop-culture icon of rebellion, this has reached new levels following the successful revolution in Genosha, now acting as leader of the nation as well as the Brotherhood, Magneto seeks to forge a safe haven for mutants across the globe and prevent any chance of the genocide he most fears.

Mystique

Raven Darkholme has fought for the cause that the Brotherhood represents for far longer than it has existed. One of the first documented mutants in the modern era, she seeks to bring about a better, more secure, future of Mutantkind and has no qualms about what may become of humanity in the process. She was an early recruit to Magneto's cause, and later reformed the Brotherhood during Magneto's absence. Despite being mother, both through adoption and biologically, to at least two X-men, she has a cold relationship with the group, in particular holding ill will towards Xavier for turning Rogue against her. Currently, she is one of the most active members of the Brotherhood in the various campaigns of espionage designed to ensure the safety of Genosha, as befits her skills and traits.

Polaris

Years prior, Lorna Dane was manipulated into the belief that her true father was none other than Magneto, an easy explanation for her ability to manipulate magnatism in much the same way. Having lead a lift of forcibly hiding the physical side effect of her mutation by her adoptive parents and other suffering at the hands of humankind, she had little desire to further endanger herself or become mixed up in the myriad battles of the X-Men and Brotherhood. Despite her efforts to lead a normal life, as Polaris, she has often been dragged into the conflicts of Mutantkind. While she has, out of neccesity, fought alongside the X-Men previously, she has grown increasingly disillusioned with the hope that humanity can ever be taught to accept mutants from good deeds alone. Most recently, the thought of a potential family connection with Magneto has spurred her to covertly enter the nation of Genosha, avoiding direct contact with both the X-Men and Brotherhood, seeking some evidence that the old lie may have in fact been a truth of coincidence.

Quicksilver

One half of the troubled Maximoff twins, Pietro has long had a complicated relationship with the Brotherhood, initially a part of the group only due to his sister, he has since become increasingly aligned with their mission, believing in the superiority of Mutantkind. The revelation that Magneto was their true father was taken poorly by Pietro, and during Magneto's absence, both twins left the Brotherhood to live among humanity as superpowered heroes. With Wanda's mind having deteriorated, resulting in several incidents of increasing danger, the pair returned to the Brotherhood as a safe haven where their powers were free to be unleashed. While Magneto and Pietro's relationship remains almost hostile, he now fights aggresively to maintain Genosha as a place he and his sister can be free from the persecution of the outside world.

Scarlet Witch

With the ability to alter probability, often unwillingly, Wanda Maximoff has long been both a blessing and a curse to those around her. Initially a part of the Brotherhood out of olbigation to Magneto for saving her and Pietro's life, Wanda freely left the Brotherhood after the disappearance of Magneto and has had little interaction with the struggles of Mutankind ever since. However, after a mental breakdown caused her to rewrite reality and repeatedly fall into catatonic states, Quicksilver has fled with her, seeking out their father once more.

This would culminate in the disaster of the House of M, and later M-day, with the Scarlet Witch rewriting reality one further time to drastically reduce the mutant population, declaring 'No More Mutants.' The shock of this act continues to echo across the Mutant population, and for a crime so dire, it is unlikely Magneto can shield his daughter from the wrath of those mutants still empowered.

Gambit

Few mutants exemplify the complicated and convoluted nature of the mutant factions than Gambit. Raised as a member of the Thieves' Guild and having worked alongside the X-men, Marauders and most recently the Brotherhood, his past is as chequered as it is varied. Most ironically (or perhaps apt) considering the code name of his long term off and on again paramour, Gambit could most certainly be described as the rogue of the mutant conflict.

First brought to the attention of the X-men while assisting in recovering a de-aged Storm from grave danger, the adventuring criminal had little in common with Xavier or other important members of the X-Men, and those who he might have aligned with were the kind to be most suspicious of him. Despite this, after several further encounters he would ultimately join the team. Whether this was due to a true change of heart from the Ex-Thief, or rather more to do with the Southern charms of a certain member, remains up for debate. He would, over time, become a well liked and valued member of the team. This made the revelation that he had long been a double agent working for Sinister, despite his reasons, all the more painful for the X-Men, in particular for Rogue. In their rage, the team abandoned Gambit in the Antarctic, a situation he was unlikely to survive.

The poles are a great source of magnatic power, however, and so eventually the wandering mutant became known to Magneto. He had little love for the individual who had contributed to spoiling many of his plans, but he was also in the process of building his new union of all mutants, and so Gambit was rescued from the ice, and given a place in the New Brotherhood. Since then, Gambit has worked to further the aims of the Brotherhood, taking part in the Second Genoshan Revolution, and now being sent out into the wider world to assess the existing threats to the island nation.

Exodus

A being out of time, freed from centuries of imprisonment by Magneto during the darkest years of his maddness, Exodus has been an ardent, if unhinged, supporter of the cause ever since. A mutant of frightening ability, he possesses vast superhuman powers, including telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation, and durability.

Much like Mystique, during Magneto's absence Exodus lead a splinter faction of the Brotherhood, known as the Acolytes. While Mystique's brotherhood may have represented the cunning, more reasonable, aspect of Mutant extremists, Exodus took the most aggressive and damaged souls. This compounded the most extreme elements of the Brotherhood, creating a small yet destructive faction that has caused trouble for the X-Men and wider world since their creation.

The return of Magneto and the rebuilding of bridges between the X-men and many of the Brotherhood has been a complicated issue for Exodus, a rare cause of strife between himself and Magneto. To suggest the members of the X-men are uncomfortable with his presence would be a vast understatement, yet he remains a key aspect of Genosha's defence against the hostility of mankind.

Psylocke

The mutant Kwannon has more reason than most to hate the human regimes of the world. Raised to be the perfect killer by The Hand, even before her state as a mutant was discovered she was forcibly outcast from the normal strata of society. Her loyalty was ensured through a combination of coercion and indoctrination, but it wasn't perfect. Even as she was making a name for herself as the deadliest of assassins in the Japanese underworld, she fell in love and fell pregnant. In displeasure, the Hand slew her lover and took her daughter from her, giving them yet more control over the peerless assassin. Eventually, however, she was able to break free and slay her masters, before setting out to locate her daughter.

Sadly, before she could proceed further in her task, a series of events resulted in the mind of Betsy Braddock taking over Kwannon's body. For this time, Betsy continued under the name of Psylocke, despite wearing the skin of a different woman, and carried on fighting as a member of Xavier's X-men. Eventually Kwannon was able to return to her true form. The blooded murderess had little in common with the idealistic X-men, and so while she continued to use the name Psylocke, she drifted away from the team. Eventually, she would join the Brotherhood, a union of mutants with more place for her deadly skills, under the promise of vengeance upon those who had wronged her and assistance in locating her daughter.

Of the active members of the Brotherhood, she has one of the most workable relationships with the membership of the X-Men, having little in the way of direct conflict with them, and benefitting from many of the X-Men not being entirely able to differentiate her from the Psylocke who fought by their side for years.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

"You aren't supposed to be in here, trooper."

"No, but you are." As the man turned from the terminal to face the approaching soldier, the features he confronted began to swim and shift, a flash of blue, before they reformed. For the briefest of moment's, it was like gazing into a mirror. A mirror which immediately punched him straight in the throat. The system shock was immediate, doubling over in a splutter of desperate breathing. He was utterly unable to anticipate the elbow, his elbow for all appearances, which slammed down into the back of his head, his cranium immediately rebounding off the desk he had been sitting at, the pain of both strikes only interrupted by the sudden loss of consciousness. The figure now wearing the officer's face easily slid into the chair, drawing themselves up to the station.

"Identification required, please complete iris scan." The security fell away as the body double lent down to provide the reading. Around the capital of Hammer Bay, similar terminals were being accessed as the Resistance launched their great gambit. This, however, was the nexus, the primary access point that could only be interfaced by the highest ranking of the Magistrates.

That, or someone wearing their faces.

Once she had passed the scans, Mystique allowed the false skin of the Magistrate office to fall away, her own deep blue skin swallowing the light cast by the computer screen in a matter wholly different to baseline humans. Her fingers still worked away, inputting the code she had written herself. Some things you couldn't leave up to others, no matter how many hands you could now command. With a flick of her wrist, she placed a finger to her ear, triggering the comm-bead within.

"All cells reporting green, terminating broadcast." As she spoke, the virus placed within each of the government's broadcasting stations began to work, eating away at the code to leave it an inoperable tangle of scrambled data. Far from simply cutting off communication, the psychic signals influencing the minds of the countless slave-mutates began to fizzle and fade across the capital, the greatest main holdout of the Magistrate government. A momentary lapse, before the Brotherhood's transmission replaced it, forcibly played across screens and radios over the entire Genoshan nation.

"You're live, Eric." Mystique lent back in the comfortable padding of the chair as the very same screen she had used to begin the pirate broadcast had the very same message imposed upon it.

From imposed darkness, the figure of Magneto drifted into view, his iconic helm, a symbol that had been rallied to by free mutants across the state of Genosha, framing the details of his face as piercing, charismatic, eye bore into the camera.

"Brothers and Sisters, Mutants of Genosha, bask now in the freedom we have won for you." The magnetism of metal was not the only form that Magneto commanded, the fiery zeal of his words flooding across the nation to both current freedom fighters and those newly freed by the failing mental controls the Magistrates had reinstated since their return to power. "Now is not the time for reconciliation, the humans were offered peace, and they repaid it with throwing you back in bonds, no, it is time they learn what we already know, that there is no place to hide. Rise up, Children of Atom, and claim the future that is our right." As the simple but direct message came to an end, the seat from which Mystique had instigated the broadcast was already empty, the Magistrate slumped across the floor waking up to a Genosha entirely changed in the scant moments of his unconsciousness.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

TBC

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Collab with @Ruby

“It’s a little fancier than Joe’s Diner, my turn to look out of place.”

The process of sending the text message over to Rachel chimed even as Henry placed the device back into his pocket, his location shared with the female kindred as he approached the front desk of the Lounge. Despite his words to the Ventrue woman, and indeed, she would no doubt look far more on theme, neither of the receptionist staff offered protest as he moved past them, a card of gold pressed to the electronic sign in as he did so.

He was dressed in the style of what some would consider truly, vastly, wealthy. Smart brown leather shoes tapped across the wooden flooring, but such expenditure was paired with Levi jeans and a white linen shirt against the LA Heat. This was not the attire of the corporate traveler, but the old money that had them on their payroll. It was also a lot more comfortable for him, and so the insinuation suited him fine.

Even at this hour the lounge would usually be open to a relatively high number of red eye travelers, but for now it had been cleared. No doubt a flurry of complaints would have resulted from the minor inconvenience of having to share the One World Alliance lounge instead, but all would soon have impressed on them the importance of not kicking up too much of a fuss. If it had been up to Henry, he’d have closed the place with the excuse of emergency maintenance. The upper echelons of the Germanic Camarilla had a different style altogether. The Masquerade was important, but so too was the principle of hierarchy. All would know the risk of a complaint, even if they didn’t quite understand why.

Henry didn’t pause as he moved through the interior of the lounge. The tables and countertops were even more pristine than normal, the glimmering, minimalistic opulence of the catering areas made all the more needless and beautiful for the lack of the culinary delights that they would usually host. That did give him pause, before the man beckoned over one of the few, oppressively pale and smartly dressed, staff.

“I’ll have the chicken burger, I’ll be outside.” The request took more than a few moments to register on the surprised waiter. Henry wasn’t entirely sure how much these elite servants would know about the nature of their masters, but they knew enough to be surprised at the request for something solid to consume. He savored the reaction for only a heartbeat, before heading out onto the truly outdoor decking, ignoring the secondary internal deck. This area was truly abandoned, although the light of the propane fireplaces already danced in the night air. He drew himself up a chair next to the lit bar top, tapping his fingers on the marble top as he watched a plane scream through the air above. He focused for a few moments, allowing his exceptional eyes to filter through the light pollution to drink in the night. By his calculation, it would still be some time before their favored guest would arrive at the lounge. Might as well enjoy the view.

And his burger.

"The Star Alliance Lounge is closed?"

Rachel blinked at the question. She'd barely had time to get out of the car before the other woman was on her, saying the words in the form of a question. LAX, the airport, wasn't titled such on the management side. It was part of a larger entity; the Los Angeles World Airports. The managing group for more than one of the area's airports. The re-organization had been in place by Rachel's mortal predecessor before she had even met Eva, though it didn't take Eva long to allow Rachel to get her hands on it and work on the efficiency of the operation.

"Yes," was all Rachel said through her blink as she stepped out of the backseat of the Cadillac, though the woman just stared at her with a pained, forced, smile on her painted lips. The woman was Lauren Bradley, red hair, pale skin, mid-thirties, the Chief Airport Operations Officer for LAX, and the Chief of Staff to the LAWA CEO. Where Rachel was dressed in skinny fit style black wool pants, enriched with gold-tone Medusa button closures on either hip, black heels, and a magenta wool blazer with a black silk tank top under it.

For those familiar, it was all part of the latest runway line from Versace, although that line wouldn't be shown to the public for a month in Paris. Lauren Bradley wore something else; some kind of blazer and skirt combo, it looked older, maybe Calvin Klein? Rachel didn't care. Rachel just stared in return, forcing Ms. Bradley to finally get brave, and say something else in the scene that was quickly becoming awkward as they stood just outside one of the VIP entrances to one of the terminals.

"It's just, along with the added security--"

Rachel didn't need the woman to continue, happy to cut her off with a stiff, professional, half-smile. "Ms. Bradley, I assure you we wouldn't be doing either of these measures if they weren't necessary. My goal wasn't to make you apologize to everyone in LAX for us tonight...but at the same time I'm afraid this can't be helped. I'll let you know the moment we can open the lounge back up."

The woman apologized, prattled on about something, but by that point Rachel had to move. What Eva had told her about the Ventrue Inner Council seat holder was that he was something of an act that took himself too seriously, and Rachel didn't figure it would do well to make Henry wait for her long, let alone deal with Hardestadt on his lonesome, making them both wait. Black suited security flanked her, one white, one black, both looking like commandos wearing a suit. She had met both before; they were good gents. Some of Andre's inner circle, highly trained, and impeccably positioned to cover her if it came to it. Yet the short walk to the elevator, and the shorter walk to the front of the longue were both uneventful. She didn't go in through the front door, she went in through the kitchen service, meeting two more armed men that let her and her guards in. The guards peeled off as Rachel found him outside.

"Hey," was all she said as she walked outside to the lounge's Terrace. Something inside her wanted to say more, but her voice wouldn't betray her, and nothing about her appearance suggested anything of the sort. She ditched the magenta blazer and draped it over one of the barstools, before moving closer to him, sneaking a peek at the smart phone the Digital Thaumaturges that they financed and protected had provided her. It felt like years ago her lips and hands were all over his body, not days. Yet so much had happened in between, and they hadn't seen him.

"You talked to her, didn't you?"

Somehow, someway, Rachel just knew.

The sudden charge in the air around him at her arrival wasn’t something he hid, although whether it was purely body language and pheromones or something that spoke of his nature was another matter entirely. The fact she was immediately lost in her phone didn’t dissuade him at all. A slightly more wholesome memory of laughing at the sight of her desperately craning for signal while balanced atop a run down cadillac on a dirt road sprung to mind and he didn’t hide the smile from that either. He didn’t hide the brush of intimacy, his hand tracing her hip for the moment, as he leaned in both in greeting and to reply.

“In a sense. It’s the mages who took her, but they need new tricks if they’re to hide someone from me. She wants to stay with them for now, get them onboard. I think that’s what we need, but I could touch her mind for long enough to get my marching orders.” While he efforts to hide whatever rivaling forces of emotion within her may have been successful, the unspoken question of his presence wasn’t hidden from him, and so he carried on, still not putting space between them. “India. I couldn’t not act.” It wasn’t an apology, but the tone was there. It risked his exposure, but Henry could no more sit back and watch a continent die than he could have submitted to the will of his father when it crashed against his compassion. “And I wasn’t alone, Caine is on the move again, which means I can find him, talk to him. You all have given me hope I might be able to reach him, this time.” His words had nothing to do with the geography and everything to do with his efforts to win the heart of another being cursed to wander.

“But, I still probably need a minder for a meeting with King Ventrue.”

Rachel chuckled, "I almost pity the mages; no one makes an impression like Eva. Grace told us they have her at..." Rachel's brown eyes darted there and here, and back again, a sliver of a shrug rolling her porcelain shoulders and the shoulder length dark hair with the slight wave parted down the middle. Surveillance had her a touch nervous. "Well, you know, I'm sure."

She almost didn't want to speak the next sentence. She remembered what happened the last time Henry saw the creature, and the violence in the man's eyes that day. "We, uh...we saw Nathaniel. He's been stalking us. It sounded like he's been stalking us because he couldn't find Eva anywhere in, or around, the city. You should have seen the stare he gave Yanci. I thought he was going to leap for her throat, then and there. Luckily Andre and Mihail are quite the, uh, dissuasive force."

Rachel ignored the Caine mention. Based on everything she knew, it was better just to keep it to herself.
In the same way he didn’t hide the lingering intimacy, the hand left drifting at her hip or the warmth of his smile for her, he didn’t seek to conceal the sudden tightening of his shoulders, the tautness in his build at the mention of the Nosferatu. The last time he had met Nathaniel he had run him through with the Blade of Eden, and only Eva’s pleas for clemency had prevented him from igniting the divine blade and scattering the kindred’s ash upon the wind.

“Tell me if you encounter him again, please.” The intensity came with his fingers pressing into her slightly, before with an exhalation he relaxed. “I won’t hunt him, but I’ll stop him from taking her.” He didn’t need to add who he meant. His bond was Eva was like nothing else in the cosmos, even he didn’t quite understand what burned, or perhaps had burned, between himself and the woman beside him, but Yanci had been the first of them all for him.

Finally he pulled away from her, just a little breathing room. Perhaps to her relief, certainly a relief for the neatness of her outfit no longer presented with the risk of his grip. The interruption was preemptive, as the glass doors out onto the deck slid open. There was a roar overhead and suddenly the outer deck was engulfed in the dazzling light of a plane’s headlamps, a brightness so intense it momentarily obscured vision. Once the glare faded, he was standing there.

Henry knew that the moment of light had no doubt equally obscured the flash of red sights as unknown marksman dialed in on any perceived threat to the man in the dark suit. Exquisitely tailored from an Italian fashion house no one on the American continent could hope to secure an appointment for, the man was slightly too leonine to be considered truly handsome, no matter the pleasant smile on his face as he approached the pair. He appeared unaccompanied, but that was never the case for a man such as this.

“Miss Fields, it has been some time since your name graced my desk, such a pleasure to see life is treating you well in the interim.” His hand extended to her as he drew closer, palm horizontal to shake, a greeting of respect, rather than expected subservience. The man’s blonde and shortly cropped hair framed a face of powerful edges, atop a form that was equally angular, with just enough substance as to not be lanky despite his near-exceptional height. Hardestadt had made a career of orchestrating the unknowable web of the Ivory Tower, mastering far older elders simply from his ability to master information. It was no surprise someone as promising as Rachel had been an object of interest, even before attaining anything that could be considered greatness by the Camarilla. His cold, grey-blue eyes settled on Henry the moment after, with only a simple nod of greeting. “Mr Locke, a shame to hear about your bar.”

Rachel's physical response to the hand shake was demure, even if the look upon her fine dark features were closer to glacial: he was her blood, she was Ventrue, she would be demure for him. More than anything, Rachel resisted the urge to ask the man about Thaddeous. Mr. Carter hadn't been unkind, and their partnership had provided a huge problem for the Sabbat on the East Coast. She knew they lost every gain they'd had save for D.C.. In a bittersweet moment, she also had an idea that the Camarilla had used some of the analytical information Rachel had composed against Eva and the Anarchs from San Francisco.

Yet she never took it personally, and she had simply never heard another thing from Thaddeous. It wasn't hate Rachel felt for the Camarilla, it was just...indifference. Funny thing when you ran one of the largest money laundering rings the world had ever seen and had a contact spreadsheet that could make even a Ventrue elder blush. Hollywood was the kind of soft power the Camarilla would never achieve, Eva the kind of elder that the Camarilla just simply could not produce for someone like her to serve.

A slight perk of her brow was all the suggestion that she wandered, this close to the man, how Gehenna affected him. The Coterie had Eva's blood to protect them, Hardestadt had nothing of the sort. She hoped it wasn't along the horrible rumors she had heard coming out of Chicago.

"Welcome back to Los Angeles, Mr. Hardestadt. I hope the modern nights have been kind to you."

There was a crackle of amusement in the air at her tone of greeting, Henry's hand passing in a stroke down the indent of her spine, the tone of someone enjoying such a radical change in her nature, even if his gaze towards the opposite kindred remained serious.

"As kind as any have been." The elder Ventrue responded with a smile that lacked any true warmth. "New challenges require new solutions, but that in of itself is a constant." As the male spoke, a waiter arrived with a tray bearing decorated champagne flutes, although the liquid within lacked any sort of sparkle and possessed a deep crimson rather than hints of gold. Hardestadt had collected his own glass before they were offered towards the pair, notably long before Henry's summoned burger had arrived. "I would be most welcome to invite you back to aid in such solutions, those who still speak of you still speak very highly, if with regret." Piercing eyes never left Rachel as the man supped from his drink, the promise of both wrath and opportunity all at once. "But I suppose you will continue to decline the offer, and much as there is always interest I did not come all this way for a hiring prospect." He did not expand on this further for the moment, content to study the pair as he had before.

"No, thank you," Rachel all but beamed at the waiter, dark eyes sparkling with a vibrant warmth that matched the smile she flashed. A brilliance that disappeared within a single beat once the waiter moved on. Instead, confusion riddled her darkly fine features as her head tilted just the barest of angles to the side, her brown eyes fixated on Hardestadt, her voice sprinkled with a cheery amusement atop the sound of confusion, "Why would I downgrade?"

The confusion wiped, her head upright, head and shoulders tall as the real Rachel threw off the facade, her hands with clear polished manicured fingertips coming together in front of her, "Your new challenges pale in comparison to our new challenges. You want to save yourself, we want to save everything and everyone. We are not the same, Mr. Hardestadt. She has never asked for your help, and while we certainly don't believe Matthew Lubbock is your doing, it must be said we do consider this another red mark among a long list of them in our ledgers concerning the debts incurred with our group by your organization. Recompense is of no interest to us, long past is the time for that. I have come simply in the hope your organization wishes to discuss ways in which to collaborate on solutions to the overarching challenges."

Her lips were smiling again by the end of her addressing of the man with such a pleasant and warm tone, the subtle and secure smile of the clear eyed and supremely confident.

Rachel’s words certainly had their sting, and it would be impossible to suggest they were entirely expected, at least in the manner in which they delivered. Nevertheless, as Hardestad paused to sip the offered wine, savoring the unexpected taste of elder blood, if not quite questioning where it had originated, his reaction registered as little more than a twinge across his features.

“A warning then. The past is littered with the unnecessary fallen of those who considered their challenges unique and refused the advice and support of others. I should know, I was there in North Africa when this continent first learned the cost of these Modern Nights, failing to heed the advice of their own allies.”

“That’s entirely why I’ve come from our stronghold, and left the rest of my Coterie, to talk with you, and give you that.” Rachel said, motioning with a nod to the glass in his hand, “it doesn’t long for the effect to kick in. It’s hard to say exactly what it will do to you, you’re the first of your clan and generation to taste it. For certain you’ll notice any lingering Beckoning to be gone, completely. I’ve noticed my mind clears faster and there’s a certain…serenity to it. My Coterie fellow, Andre, has also mentioned he feels a touch more humane after. In that drink is Eva’s blood. We have but a tiny supply of it, yet the effects are good for about a week, give or take, depending on the individual. When she told us her blood could help us remain free of the immediate pull of Gehenna, we didn’t believe her, I’m embarrassed to say. Sounded too good to be true. In either case, a token of our good will and desire to collaborate, should you decide your organization would be best in alignment with our goals.”

Her eyes flicked to Henry, waiting on the man to say…something.

“It’s all true, Hardestadt, not just what Rachel is telling you about Eva, but everything the mad prophecies the Camarilla have worked so long to suppress have warned you. I know you suspect, but I’m telling you, it’s worse than you fear.” Henry finally spoke following the look from Rachel, his focus having not wavered, at least in the line of his eyes, from the man for the length of the conversation. There was a crackle in the air between them, an unspoken something that spoke to an established acquaintance, or at least reputation.

The German Kindred’s attention had, in the meantime, slipped to the drink, tilting his head slightly as he examined both the visual appearance of the glass as well as the sensation Rachel described working through him. It was something of a social and political affront to feed another blood of a potentially dominating elder, but for now the slight would be forgiven. “Some have already been dismissed by the march of time, the millennia came and went, the world still stands.” Hardestadt’s cold gaze fixed Henry Locke for a moment longer, before he spoke. “My father-in-darkness knew you by another name, Mr Locke. Whatever your reasons, you actions in such times were fruitful for the Ivory Tower, for that, we have listened to you both thus far.” Had the elder kindred known the full story of quite how far back the machinations of Henry ran, he would likely act far more decisively, but for now they remained nebulously vast. “There are two agents I trust to be of use to you in this city, I have grown unimpressed with the works of Vannevar, you may dispose of him and I will not act. Genevive Dieudonné and Violetta Kyborowski, I will instruct them to aid your efforts in this city in the interim. What information I have that may be of use to you from the Old World I shall share. Stay out of New York, a great death is building there that I cannot prevent, should it wake no amount of chosen blood will save you from the initial annihilation.” The aid and warning provided, the suited Kindred finished the remainder of his wine in a short gulp. “If that is all?”

Rachel looked unimpressed; or maybe it was just the Ventrue blood in her. “Bye.” She didn’t wait, just flashed a look of rare irritation to Henry and left, only scooping her own blazer on her way out, her last word a word to the security team, “you’re done the moment they leave this airport. Start the hunt for Lubbock. Intel and logistics go through Andre, and we don’t care how much it costs, or who you have to intimidate or hurt to make it happen.”

There was a surge to the loudness of her steps, as she all but buzzed with the fact that she had just unleashed hundreds of their own trained people equipped with an overwhelming surveillance capability, the largest kine and Kindred intelligence and influence network in the state. The only reason she stopped at the door? To turn around, look at the security detail, and add, “Vannevar is dead before midnight tomorrow, and anyone who would try to harbour or protect him, no matter their affiliation or status.”

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

Writing my sheet was delayed a fair bit due to irl issues but I am still working on it! Should be up later today or failing that tommorow.

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

In conjunction with Ruby looking to play the Xmen I'd like to express an interest to play the brotherhood of mutants focused around Magneto!

Mutant pride and all that jazz.

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Collab with @Ruby

When the sensation first shuddered through him, he could not place the change. The warmth seemed to drain out of his world, the burning light of stars a million, million, miles away winking out as he beheld the gemstone carpet of the night sky, rivaled only by the glittering sea of the billion lights of LA.

It took him but a moment to wallow in the sense of emptiness before he knew what it was. She was gone, blinded from his senses in a manner he hadn't felt before even meeting her. The bond with her ancestors, far older than his current mortal lifetime, severed for the first time.

She wasn't dead, he knew he would know. That was the only think keeping him rooted in place, the scattered ashes of the Hollywood Hills about him as he tried to call to her.

"Eva." It lacked nuance, or any such detail, simply a pulse of his mind as Henry Locke cast his mind out. He had returned only recently from the badlands, hunting and questions the werewolf packs of the region and finding only murder on their minds. There hadn't been time to pause and refocus, Henry returning to the scene of the blood magic surge which had started the chain of events leading to the Lupine attack, and Rachel leaving to meet again with the Coterie. This shuddering, awful emptiness had been the first thing that had finally driven the sound of her gasps from his mind, and tingling pinprick of her fangs from his skin. Everything cast away in his search.

"Eva!"

More insistent now, but no more developed, the physical form of the man rooted in place even as he mind cast out. The possible threat to her tore at him, threatening to unleash the starlight within for the second time in too short a period. Could Henry Locke survive if his true self surfaced once again so soon? He did not know, but the thought of losing her was worse.

Instead of calling for Heaven's Light, instead his lips moved into a strange rhythm of syllables. Words not spoken since the angels had shattered Babel rushed into the air. The foundation of all human spell work launched into the night, twisting and turning reality into the desires of the speaker. The world shimmered around him, creation distorting and shuddering under the strain, the force of his mind bushing through the barriers, for that's what they were, calling to her, ever onwards, no matter what was arrayed before him. Another recent second, now once again the Hollywood Hills shuddered with the supernatural forces playing across them, as concern drew into desperation.

"Eva!"

The response was endless, and bright without being blinding. There he stood, Henry Locke, in a vast white infinite, the only dimension of which witnessed was that his feet was set upon something; some floor, even if white and without dimensional boundary...but a floor none-the-less. A floor shared by a blonde, crystal blue eyed angel of a boy child, seated Indian-style before him. His voice smooth and undeepened by puberty or manhood, yet perfect white teeth held the undeniable feature of fangs. Henry Locke had met the boy once before; when he assisted Eva and her Coterie in ending the child's madness and paranoid-fueled reign of chaos and destruction on Los Angeles.

Now Christopher Houghton just smiled up at the man. "Oh, hey, Henry. Remember me? Well I'm still here. Eva and I made-up. Turns out I was kind of jerk...heh, sorry about all that. Are you looking for her? She's here, somewhere. 'Void Engineers' she calls them. Or do they tell her to call them that? Mages, I say, proper magic and all that."

Covered in a pool of red, the body of Eva was there, beside Houghton, on the same 'floor' of infinite white nothingness in which the child sat, and the man stood just feet away. The red seemed to shift and shimmer in a light that came from no true direction, no real source; it was just was. Like the child, the man, and the woman. It shimmered when her body shifted, barely a fidget, but enough to send the red rippling in a line between shadow and shine, her dark hair long and spread out on the white nothingness around her head, eyes closed.

The boy smiled, pure boyish charm and the warmth of youth, "I think it's velvet, or silk," he said, meaning the red that covered her. What it actually was, rather than what it appeared as now, was lesser known. The boy didn't seem to care. "She talks a lot to the oldest ones left. Well, of my line, I guess. Her's, too, come to think of it..."

"Henry." Eva existed between awake and asleep, her voice a delicate thing, weakened by weariness and barely awake. "You came. Are you alright?"

The Henry Locke the outside world knew would no doubt be surprised at the clemency this version of him within the spellwork provided the young child, the apparition of Houghton receiving and understanding smile from the man as he approached the vision of Eva, kneeling beside her, one hand brushing through the fabric.

“Mages that don’t believe they’re mages. Another failure of mine.” He breathed softly, ignoring the question posed his way for the moment as he instead grounded himself with the not quite real touch of his fingers on her. “I am fine, you were gone, in a way your bloodline hasn’t been ‘gone’ since it begun. Sadly for them, I wrote the magic they tried to hide you with.” There was the tiniest teasing infliction to his words, but not enough to suggest it was a joke. “Are they hurting you?”

“Only with tedium and the long, slow, death of procedural adherence.”

Her sigh was dramatic, and the kind of thing that made the red sheet over her body lift and deflate noticeably…much slower was the creeping of the wicked little smirk over her pink lips and sleepy features. Her voice was deeper than normal, just a degree or two, as the weariness became something she just wasn’t going to snap out of. A single bright brown eyes peeking half-open, head tilting just enough to take a look at Henry. His image kept the little smirk right there on her lips. “I’d be more worried about their health and safety; with sticks THAT big up their individual and collective asses…”

Christopher erupted in the laughter of a child; just as much at the mental imagery as the fact that Eva had said the word ‘ass.’ With both her eyes once again closed, she stifled a half-yawn and gave the barest hint of a shrug, “They’re scared. On some level they think I’m insane, but they believe me. Maybe not believe IN me…but I’ll take what I can get from these people. It goes well enough, though.”

His arms pulled around her near-sleeping for as the silk danced, her smirk and Christopher's laugh bringing a smile to his own, as he hauled her to him, her thought-form draped into his lap that was not truly there.

"Well that's alright then, I'll take boring and listening over enraged and fighting." He answered, one finger stroking her cheek, before adding; "Or perhaps I'm only saying that because it's not me doing the talking, I have been known to hunt down the odd scrap." Perhaps an understatement given the nature of their meeting. In many other turns of the timepiece Henry Locke had never bothered to fight for the Sunset Lounge, had rode on out of Los Angeles and never looked back, leaving Christopher to his games. His stubbornness this time around had lead them together, the burning hope of the world pinned on the spark of his grim determination to show an immortal child he didn't give a fuck. Said child received a glance at that. The stubborn nature of their dispute flowed both ways, without either it would have fizzled out before it begun. Perhaps a second thing to thank the Kid for, beyond her.

"I'm here, love. I'll help the others, they need me, but know I'm always here." His accent twisted around the word in such a way that has always thrilled Americans, but when he spoke it to her there was a truth beyond the old colloquialisms. "Plus, can't let you be bored for long, you'll never let me live it down."

“Please,” she said, her eyes wide open and fully alert, staring into his, for the first time. “They need the help. Especially the newest one, I don’t think he even realizes he’s one of us yet. I’m told all eyes are on them, and you. All eyes. Be safe until I get back–then we can do the crazy shit.”

"I think whatever ancestor he has spurring him on to seek the Lord's purpose would probably protest being chummy with this particular angel." The words were teasing, despite the cosmic surroundings they inhabited and the force of will, on both ends, necessary for the conversation. "I'll do my best, try not to make the mages feel too stupid." With a parting glance and a smile, the unreality bled away into nothing, and Henry stood alone once more.

The Grim Crusade - Warhammer 30000 Interest Check

Poke!

A bunch of collabs about to get posted, and we newly have plenty of spots to fill!

Anyone interested feel free to hop in the discord and we can help with concepts!