FamishedPants

Symphony of Espers

S a m u e l

"Izurich smelly"

— Sam

Status

30 | Male | G.E.M.I.N.I | Creeping Anxiety
Stab, Slash | Dagger, Sword | Arcane | Fade
Paranoia | Hallucinate
Malice | Darkness | Devious Intent
[Obfuscate (4)] [Intangible (4)], Damage X (6), Pull (2), Dispel (6), Mana Burn (6), Restrain (4), Extend (2), Trap (0), Piercing (2), Full Enhance (4)

DAMAGE: D | SPEED: D | SENTINEL: D | 750

[Bronze None][Zilch (0)] = -0 Mana

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 478

The ever-grinning face of Samuel's Esper form turned its attention towards the corpse of the felled snake, giving in to the urge to wipe the splat of blood that landed on his face when he plunged his blade into the said man's neck with his knuckles. He also chose to give a quick flick of his blade to rid its blade of any excess on it before studying the body with a bit more intensity, but only after glancing around to make doubly sure he wasn't going to get shot for doing so.

"Are those... bite marks?" he wondered aloud, examining it closely, but quite obviously avoiding touching the deceased being like it was tainted.

If he didn't think it was prudent to do so, Samuel would prefer to avoid inspecting this man's corpse in any detail. He could calm his heart and mind for these fights, but his stomach for this sort of stuff was never the best. G.E.M.I.N.I training videos did ensure that he saw these things closely before having to interact with him, and it wasn't like today was the first time he'd taken a life, but it wasn't something he warmed up to, either.

Samuel would stand up straight, scrutinizing the group of Freelancers with what would've been an approving look had he the ability to convey more than a creepy smile. He did not have such an ability in Esper form, sadly. "Wonderful," he commented. "We certainly have not finished the mission yet, but I imagine with this man's departure, we've crossed the toughest hurdle." Samuel glances at the radio buzzing with the anxious worry of the thug's allies. "Their response leads me to believe we have routed the enemy. And, assuming our shirtless companion has not fallen, with zero casualties." Beneath the eery echoes, one could just make out his satisfaction in his voice.

Except the building, Samuel avoided adding, although if that bomb threat was genuine, the fact that they got away with a burned hall or two and an explosion wasn't too shabby. The building was fairly intact, so Sam doubted it would be considered a failure by any real means, so long as there weren't surprises in the cleanup. But before that, Samuel wanted to check up on the status of these Freelancers...

Thus, the tense feeling one might get when a devil was watching them was fleeting for most of the group, but the ice-favored Freelancer, Klava, was not so lucky. Samuel eyed the girl unabashedly, her charred form prompting his next line. "How so very capable you remain even in such terrible condition," he nods, then glances at his own injured arm. "I must admit I couldn't see myself doing half as well in the same situation. Splendid." It was now that Apollo showed up, flaunting a gun that was flamboyant enough to be called 'fitting' when wielded by him. It seemed he came out victorious. As thanks for his help, Samuel immediately pointed out a job he could be doing. Lucky him.

Once it became clear that Apollo was tending to Klava, he moved on to the Protector. He eyed the detonator in their hands with caution. "It is a shame he had that, otherwise we might have been able to take him alive, possibly. But we'll have to settle for an identifiable corpse instead." Unless the Freelancer was against it, Samuel would hold onto the detonator from that point on. He did not seem to want to linger for very long, clearly preferring the idea of a clean, fully-swept building to one with potential hostile surprises popping up later.

It would not take long for he and the rest to wind up crossing paths with the railgun-toting G.E.M.I.N.I agent, Valkyrie, which for a zeptosecond, caused him confusion. The sound of her rifle was hard to mistake so it's not like he was oblivious entirely, but he was unaware that she wasn't just firing from afar like earlier. She had quite obviously seen better days, so ignoring all else, he hastened to reach her and confirm her status. Of course, at the end of the day, he was cursed with abilities better suited towards killing and maiming instead of healing and supporting. Realizing as much, he would opt to escort her down to the lowest floor (particularly helping navigate a certain hole on the way) if she requested it. Even if they weren't too familiar with each other, Samuel did not seem to mind at all if he had come off weird, almost doting. He would, naturally, respect any wishes they had, though.

Samuel would not rest until each and every nook and cranny of the place had been cleansed of the thug taint. On cleanup, if anyone there managed to use their heads and surrender, then he wasn't going to mercilessly execute them and instead have them be apprehended while they eliminated anyone that still posed a threat without batting an eye. This cleanup seemed to prompt a more aggressive behavior from Samuel, likely intending on making up for being so reliant on the Freelancers as he had been. Or, so one might guess was the reason for his sudden lapse into proactivity. But with what the entirety of his group (and the others) had to have dealt with today, perhaps they might view his yearning for the action as a positive thing.

Once everything had been entirely cleared and the mission came to a complete close, he personally thanked each of the members who worked with him, including Apollo, once again and bid them well.

Symphony of Espers

S a m u e l

"Death from above!"

— Sam

Status

30 | Male | G.E.M.I.N.I | Creeping Anxiety
Stab, Slash | Dagger, Sword | Arcane | Fade
Paranoia | Hallucinate
Malice | Darkness | Devious Intent
[Obfuscate (4)] [Intangible (4)], Damage X (6), Pull (2), Dispel (6), Mana Burn (6), Restrain (4), Extend (2), Trap (0), Piercing (2), Full Enhance (4)

DAMAGE: D | SPEED: D | SENTINEL: D | 750

[Bronze Self][Intangible (4)] = -32 Mana

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 478

Y'knowWhatThisIs

In a familiar office sat a man three sizes too big for the chair beneath him as he waited patiently for the arrival of his boss. Most of his features were in a constant shift, never remaining one way for more than a couple of seconds at a time. Sometimes, he would have a sharp chin, wide mouth, and a soft nose, and others he would have round, chubby cheeks and huge ears, with a comically-small nose. There was a bit of consistency, however, in that each mouth seemed to be biting its lower lip and he was incredibly huge in stature. The man also never had a pair of eyes, but that didn't mean it was hard to find out what he was looking at -- he'd been focused on the door the entire time he was here. As if the person who walked through it would dictate the rest of his life.

And, well, they did.

The knob soon twisted and the door opened to reveal one tidily-dressed Samuel, holding a small stack of papers in one hand and a coffee in the other. He looks up, mild surprise taking over for a split second, only to smile wide.

"You're early!" He couldn't hide his approval if he tried. Samuel walked around the office chair the man sat on and over to his desk, where he set the papers down and promptly lost any and all interest in them. Instead of sitting at his own chair, Samuel took a seat on the edge of the desk nearest the man, sipping at his coffee one last time before addressing the huge man before him, now noticing the nervous look he was getting. "Oh, if you think I've called you up here for a bad reason... well, you're wrong! Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact!"

The eye-less man's posture slackened in apparently relief, but a tilt of his head made it obvious he was quite confused. "The opposite? You mean you want to praise me?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

Samuel nodded. "It is only natural, Protector," it suddenly becomes a bit difficult for Samuel to retain eye contact with Protector, but he pulls through. "And, I feel as though I must apologize."

The Protector remained silent, urging Samuel to continue.

"I won't try to butter my words up here: I expected nothing positive from you. Chaotic elements introduced into an orderly workplace like this... well, that just tends to be a recipe for disaster. I was wholly against the idea from the very beginning, and, well, I can assure you that one of your colleagues only reinforced that doubt with their conduct with the missing shirt and lockerroom behavior. But you are different. I see a hardworking, honest man who has not once failed to achieve what they are asked to do. If the tedious busywork you've been given has caused you no end of grief, you've done quite a good job of being polite enough to wait until I'm out of earshot to complain," Samuel gives a soft laugh. "This behavior should be commended and so it is, and you don't strike me as the sort to let praise go to your head," Samuel stands up and moves to the back of his desk, where he sits down in his chair, facing Protector. "That's really all there is to say, for now. Keep up the good work!"

It was difficult to say how they truly felt, but the Protector's evershifting mouths seemed to offer up a small smile, perhaps feeling validated that their hard work was being noticed. They stood up and opened the door, but before it shut behind them, they could just barely make out one final remark, Samuel had probably intended for his ears only.

"Now, if only that behavior could rub off on the other guy..."

Samuel delivered a swift, painless death to the foe before them with a cruel smile. Of course, this was not intentional, merely an inescapable expression he was forced into whenever he made use of this sick, twisted curse of his. It was sure to give off the impression that this bloodshed and carnage were joyous occasions to him. He didn't really feel that way, but he wasn't above using this to speed things up a little. If it made this dirty work a bit safer and a bit quicker, of course he would abuse it. To do otherwise would be inefficient.

And speaking of inefficient...

Running off to do your own things without properly communicating a plan and listening to the team leader... oh, I'm quite confident we won't have to pull some random employee in for those training videos anymore. Just give me a camera and I'll show you everything protocol warns us NOT to do.

Well, from what he could make out, before it became covered in tear gas, the Esper the thugs had wasn't wiping the floor with the freelancers. Perhaps a bit of spontanuity every now and then could prove helpful? Samuel had no problem with those two successfully killing such a potent threat, especially given the high-tier magic he was capable of using. Hell, his death could prove to be the blow to morale they need to force these thugs into a proper, real panic!

Now, what should he be doing?

Couldn't well leave everything to the freelancers. He had a job to do! It would be embarrassing to allow these chaotic elements to take center stage in a G.E.M.I.N.I operation. It would reflect badly upon him, the other agents, and it might even disappoint his boss -- something Samuel might prefer death to---

A loud noise caused by an explosion near them almost sent the injured Samuel tumbling down the stairs, something he only barely avoided doing moments ago. He was getting kinda tired of these stairs, honestly. As the loud ringing that assailed his ears subsided, he noticed the hole left before them.

That isn't going to please Doctor Moller... Not at all.

Samuel became irritated at the reckless destruction of property these criminals seemed so fond of. He thought about flinging a damaging spell right back into the hole, but his large barge of a friend decided to charge straight on in after a brief moment of preparing themself. Silhouette then decided to move to the edge of the hole in order to follow up on the protector -- a strategy that while repetitive, was quite effective up to this point so Sam had no qualms about abusing, only to notice that his armored ally was suffering some sort of mental attack.

To worry about such trivial things amid live combat... maybe I was thinking too highly of you.

Silhouette couldn't help but be disappointed at this behavior, ignoring moments ago when he was doing essentially the same thing. But who's gonna call him out for hypocrisy in his own mind? Nobody. Except me. Anyway, he looked up just in time to see a speeding Klava rush to their aid, though he could swear she had seen better days (or anything at all really). He couldn't say he felt confident leaving Apollo to deal with things by himself, but jumping through fire and tear gas just did not seem like the smartest plan, so he decided to assist the other two in helping clean up the people blowing holes out of the ground beneath him.

Sam inhaled and followed the icey woman down, though not through the hole they had made. Instead, listening to the voices beneath as best he could, he cast a specific note on himself once he was sure he could land on or nearby his target, Adder, by falling through the floor in an angle they wouldn't expect, hoping to surprise them with a blade to their neck or the most appropriate vital he could find. An extended fight with his wounded arm wouldn't be the best idea, though hopefully, Protector could regain their composure in time to assist if it had.

Symphony of Espers

S a m u e l

"Teamwork makes the dream work."

— Sam

Status

30 | Male | G.E.M.I.N.I | Creeping Anxiety
Stab, Slash | Dagger, Sword | Arcane | Fade
Paranoia | Hallucinate
Malice | Darkness | Devious Intent
[Obfuscate (4)] [Intangible (4)], Damage X (6), Pull (2), Dispel (6), Mana Burn (6), Restrain (4), Extend (2), Trap (0), Piercing (2), Full Enhance (4)

DAMAGE: D | SPEED: D | SENTINEL: D | 750

[Bronze Projectile][Pull (2)] = -20 Mana

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 510

The panicked reaction exhibited by the gangsters in response to their friend suffering a gruesome end was excellent and the desired outcome. Samuel hoped to make the most use of their foes' inexperience with Espers, though this much could likely be gathered by his approach up to this point. But he couldn't blame these men for wanting to flee from the unknown, not when he did very much the same that fateful night. He didn't consider fighting that monster until there was nowhere left for him to run.

So the fact that two goons and what appeared to be a butler were able to regain their composure and stand firm against their advance was, well, somewhat admirable by Samuel's standards. At least, it would be if it wasn't simply a suicide option. Because this merely meant they were still obstacles in the way of Samuel's objective, and they weren't likely to be very hard to mov---

A butler?

A mistake.

Samuel made a stupid, dumb, arrogant mistake. Obstacle? Obstacle? This butler? No, unless they happened to take a detour by an asylum before conquering this station, this gang was unlikely to be attended by a willing butler. And an unwilling one would've fled the moment they had the chance!

"This is Silhouette," he spoke through comms to the other G.E.M.I.N.I agents while keeping an eye on the strange butler before them. "I have eyes on a potent--"

"Servant Sofron, at your services!"

As a consequence of his incompetence, Samuel and the rest of them received a melody in the form of a flaming skull that rocketed at them, leaving little room for them to avoid its effects. "CONFIRMED Esper sighting! We are engaged!" he alerted the rest of G.E.M.I.N.I agents mainly to reduce the risk of them getting blindsided if there were more Esper surprises, but that was all the attention he could afford to give the other team.

Samuel's arcane resistance gave him room to work with, although it wasn't very much, and it felt like even less since the remaining two thugs began suppressing fire. That wasn't even mentioning the dampening effect he was subject to the courtesy of this butler's tainted melody. It felt less like his mana was being stolen from him and more like the connection between Samuel and his mana had become vague, like a magical haze. It was still there, it was just much harder to grasp. He wondered if this was what it felt like to people suffering from his own magics. Although such a question would have to wait for another time, as the situation went from bad to worse.

They were now being confronted by the people who had been above them. Well, the singular man, 'Mamba', who rushed Apollo. If that wasn't enough, they were now being pincered by what seemed to be the very same men from before, judging by their words. Their retreat was now cut off, and Samuel wasn't able to utilize the entirety of his mana to do anything about it. He felt a hand grip his heart and attempt to crush it with hopelessness and despair.

Such irony... I'm not a fan of it.

Sam didn't let it smother him.

Calm in heart and mind.

The increasing heat told Samuel he only had a couple of seconds remaining before the butler's spell would engulf him, so he stood tall and whipped his arm out towards one of the grunts shooting at them, and let loose a melody, aimed at one of his arms as he retreated just enough to not be burnt to a crisp. The intent was to potentially cause the man to twist and maybe even spray the butler or other gangster by accident with his gun. Or at the very least, if he missed the arm but still hit the thug, he might just pull the man into this magical fire the butler started.

Either way, Samuel paid the price for becoming a bigger target while people were spraying bullets. One nailed him just below the shoulder on his right side, sending a jolt of pain throughout his demonic body, nearly sending him tumbling down the stairs, which likely would've been fatal given the blind fire being thrown into it. He managed to avoid that much, though.

Samuel hoped his allies could get them out of this mess they were in. He simply wasn't strong enough to do it himself.

Symphony of Espers

S a m u e l

"I guess I'm dreaming again."

— Sam

Status

30 | Male | G.E.M.I.N.I | Creeping Anxiety
Stab, Slash | Dagger, Sword | Arcane | Fade
Paranoia | Hallucinate
Malice | Darkness | Devious Intent
[Obfuscate (4)] [Intangible (4)], Damage X (6), Pull (2), Dispel (6), Mana Burn (6), Restrain (4), Extend (2), Trap (0), Piercing (2), Full Enhance (4)

DAMAGE: D | SPEED: D | SENTINEL: D | 750

[Bronze Spawn][Restrain (4)][Damage X (6) = -180 Mana

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 530

Hmm

There's a quiet room with a relatively nice view towards the topmost floor of a skyscraper, but it is plain otherwise. Inside it is a desk covered with papers and a pen, pincered by two office chairs, and a certificate of some sort hangs behind the desk. A potted plant that may or may not be fake rests in the corner, somehow giving the room a more artificial feel in what is presumably in contrast to its purpose.

Depending on your point of view, the man pensively staring out the window could be considered young or old. It would be many years until he needs to worry about gray hairs on his head instead of black, but it had been over a decade since he graduated high school. He looked no different than your everyday office worker, wearing a collared shirt, slacks, and loafers.

The quiet was broken with a sigh, and he turned around to face the one other person in the room who was sitting on the chair in front of the desk. A raven-haired woman who couldn't be too much younger than the man and whose apparel was similarly professional. She looked at him expectedly.

He chose to wait nearly seven seconds before speaking in a tone that betrayed resignation. "I understand why you have done what you did. I won't pretend to be a friend, but I will say that in our short time together, you have always kept your conduct 'appropriate' to the situation. The ambition you have displayed in everything you do is commendable and I simply would not be surprised at all if I found myself answering to you in a few years. I would welcome it, in fact," he seemed to perk up when talking about the woman, so it was all likely genuine praise he had. He lost a bit of excitement as he continued, however. "And that is why it is with a heavy heart that things have taken this turn, Leroux. To see that potential, that brilliant light be dimmed by a fumbling of priorities... I am disappointed."

The situation was obviously harder on the man than the woman. Presently, she appeared similar to a deer in the headlights, as if all that had been said simply hadn't set in yet. But for the man, for Samuel... this was just too much. He couldn't stand to look this woman in the eyes. Perhaps it was a sign of the very weakness he was disciplining her for. Sympathy.

"Until such a time I can be sure that you will put the company's interests first and foremost, I regret to inform you that I must ask that you stay away from the vending machine in the lobby," he stated gravely. "You may, however, ask a fellow coworker you trust to purchase things in your stead." A final exhale escaped his lips. "You are free to go."

Perhaps in the future, he thought, she would not make the mistake of breaking company property to help someone in need. A cog in a machine was only useful when it turned.

...

...

...

Samuel knew it had to be born from arrogance, but it was a habit of his to take situations like the one he was in now and repurpose them into an office setting with which he was much more familiar and in charge. It was a coping mechanism of sorts, something he required since he began his venture into a world full of danger and death, but it also assisted in keeping him stable as a character.

The power to end one's life was power nonetheless, and that was bound to corrupt people. He feared he would be more susceptible to its influence given his old ways. If he ever found his reaction to a situation to be driven by something other than duty or sympathy, then it was time to take a step back and assess where he was going wrong.

The example provided, of course, is merely a way of determining how much life is valued. He did not feel his reaction in the scenario was unwarranted, as the 'recreation' took place within an office space. Reprimanding and punishing Leroux was acceptable there because it was not in the company's best interest and nobody was in serious danger, so duty prevailed. Seeing as the real-life situation did, however, happen in a life-or-death scenario, Samuel would not personally pursue much more than light scolding, was he in a position of power over the woman, because her actions were beneficial to the people risking their lives. A bit of collateral damage could be overlooked because it ultimately may have saved lives. He could sympathize with that.

...

...

...

Somehow, it felt as though only a moment had passed, and also 16 days had passed. Samuel was doing his best to ensure his teammates could do their best. A machine was a lot less likely to run smoothly if even one cog could no longer turn. If he could serve better greasing those gears, Sam had no problem doing so. He continued along until, after a certain incident with one of their freelancers, he was privately contacted by Binky, requesting that he keep a watchful eye on their (thankfully) poor Dick Cheney impersonator.

"I understand," Samuel agreed, though Binky's instruction wasn't exactly necessary. Threats to the whole were always going to be Samuel's focus if nothing else was supposed to take priority.

With the arrival of new foes, some of whom had names and cut-ins, Samuel had to take a more conservative approach. Shotguns and riot shields were actually quite effective against a man with weapons that sound like they were named by goblins. He allowed the others to be productive for those moments, with the armored freelancer providing a much-needed barricade between them and bullets intending on wiping them out and Apollo managing to shoot at things that were not considered friendly. Samuel did not mimic this behavior simply because he wasn't sure how wieldy a gun like that would be in this demonic form of his. He abstained, ultimately.

Assistance then came from Klava, who rejoined them and helped them push to the stairs, their armored freelancer still leading the charge. It was here, however, Samuel was forced to witness conduct he did not approve of, but he remained quiet about it. There is an argument that ignoring these sorts of problems is a problem itself, but Samuel had a sneaking suspicion these thugs weren't the sort to take five so that they could all watch his company's training video on sexual harassment in the workplace. Suppose that meant there was another reason to get rid of these thugs.

As Protector made short work of the men on the stairs, Sam received another call from Binky.

"Acknowledged," Samuel spoke into his receiver, listening to a loud, thunderous roar coming from above them as Binky informed him of Cobra's position. He took this slight moment, still following behind, addressing the freelancer group. "As expected, our objective is higher up, on the fourth floor. If we can continue to use this momentum to push through these optimists and sever the head from the snake, I suspect the rest of it will go limp," his ghastly voice added an ominous feeling to that statement.

It was then that they began their ascent, following Protector's lead and in pursuit of the shotgun-wielding gangster. The suit managed to snatch away the weapons from a number of their foes, and Apollo continued to rain fire on them. Until they were in a more open space, all rushing past their defense would do would hasten Sam's date with the devil, so he instead relied on his spells, which he was a bit more confident in if the truth were to be told.

Silhouette extended his arm out towards one of the disarmed grunts, who, when confronted with what appeared to be a literal demon glaring and pointing right at him, swallowed a lump in his throat. In the confusion with being relieved of his weapon and startled by Silhouette, he wasn't able to notice in time the swirling mass of shadow forming beneath him. One of his 'friends' attempted to warn him, but to no avail as in but a split second the shadow formed into a hand similar to Silhouette's own, erupting from the ground and grasping the man tightly. He began to panic when it then started to apply pressure, futilely trying to pry himself out of it with his bare hands. The gunfire prevalent in the building drowned out the crack of his bones as it shut tight, crushing him in a gruesome manner that left no doubt to those nearby that he had perished.

Symphony of Espers

S a m u e l

"Bloodstains are nothing a little laundry detergent and cold water can't solve."

— Sam

Status

30 | Male | G.E.M.I.N.I | Creeping Anxiety
Stab, Slash | Dagger, Sword | Arcane | Fade
Paranoia | Hallucinate
Malice | Darkness | Devious Intent
[Obfuscate (4)] [Intangible (4)], Damage X (6), Pull (2), Dispel (6), Mana Burn (6), Restrain (4), Extend (2), Trap (0), Piercing (2), Full Enhance (4)

DAMAGE: D | SPEED: D | SENTINEL: D | 750

[Bronze Projectile][Intangible] = -40 Mana

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 710

As far as the weather was concerned, there was nothing particularly strange about it. An average evening in Pax Septimus, non too hot nor particularly cold, at least until now. For the few who remained outside of the building, the temperature would drop abnormally fast. It was enough to make their hairs stand up, and perhaps even coax a shiver out of them. But if that didn't, surely the onset of anxiety would. These girls would sense that not all was right, and it wasn't the building before them that gave them this impression. A storm of dread must be approaching and it initially felt as though they would be hopeless to stop it.

Of course, Betty and Veronica ultimately knew this was no cause for concern. After all, it would not be their first time being subject to this spontaneous fear. They could easily pull through, as well as Klava were she to attempt to put it behind her. This was, more than anything, an announcement:

Samuel had finally arrived.

"Pardon the delay," a thousand voices seemed to assail the women, as a humanoid figure composed of all the wrongs in the world appeared beside them as if from nowhere. In reality, they had simply been, understandably, paying much more attention to the building and the fight taking place within which made it easy for him to get there before they noticed. "I read the summarized briefing on the way over, so I won't waste any more time." those that had turned to face Samuel found his voice a lot less echoey as he made this statement before taking off.

With some of their squad already inside the building, it made a lot of sense that most of the gangsters' focus would be on those individuals there rather than the ones outside. Still, there was one man on the second story who, thankfully, Samuel spotted before leaving the safety of the APC. The thug, firearm ready and leaning over the window cill, was prepared to fire upon the next person to show themself with a hail of bullets. He would need to be dealt with.

Samuel's arm absorbed the dimmed light around it starting from the elbow and moving up. As it reached his hand, he quickly appeared from behind the APC, pointing Slash, his sword, at the thug and letting loose a dark bolt of energy at the thug who, unfamiliar with the magical side of the world, was momentarily startled by his demonic visage. This mistake was fatal, but the bolt that struck him square in the chest was not. In fact, it didn't hurt at all. Instead, the man felt a unique sensation as his body turned transparent and he suddenly found himself falling forward through the window cill he had been leaning on, plummeting a couple of stories to the ground with a loud thud as the spell ended. He groaned in obvious pain, but the fall did not succeed in killing him.

But that was what Sam's blades were for.

The gangster was unable to recover before the Esper closed the distance and plunged his blade straight through his throat, a spray of blood hitting his chest. The dying man let out a sickening gurgle and passed away not long after, but Sam didn't stay to watch, entering the building before any more men might try to gun him down from above.

If there was one thing Samuel was worried about, it was friendly fire. Since he had not personally met the freelancers who joined the op, he couldn't exactly know what they might look like. Some people, Valkyrie as an example, had a rather unassuming and basic Esper form. And if their choice of clothing just happened to resemble one of these goons, then that could lead to an unfortunate happening. However, when Samuel entered the building, he found such fears weren't relevant to this group.

A giant suit of armor and skinwalker auditioning for a new Rambo movie, alongside Jacquline. Well, at least they seemed to be holding their own. Or technically not -- that gun was the same kind as the gangers were using, so Sam imagined it must've been stolen. Either way, as long as it was turned on them and not him, a bit of theft could be overlooked.

"G.E.M.I.N.I Agent Silhouette has arrived," both Protector and Apollo would be subject to the same onslaught of voices as had happened before at the APC, but between the cacophony of gunfire and the severity of the situation, it was a minor nuisance at best. "I will make use of the opportunities you provide me with to the best of my ability."

Despite his intimidating appearance, Samuel didn't seem to be a priority target to the gangsters, though this was largely due to the big armored soldier making kebabs out of anyone close to them, or the man shooting hot lead in their general direction (as 'at them' seemed a bit too strong for the inaccurate spray he was subjecting them to). Heck, even the smaller knight bashing heads in was probably helping in this regard. Intending on keeping his word, Samuel focused his efforts on those that could still yet retaliate as Jacquline already seemed to be having the time of her life while taking out those who were disoriented.

His attacks would seem brutal, but efficient. A gangster attempting to aim his weapon at Jacquline while she made pulp out of another man's head would find his leg slashed and, as it gave away, his throat fell upon a dagger that was waiting for it. Another attempted to attack with an empty gun butt to the back of Sam's head, but lost his raised hand to a single swing and then was impaled through the chest on the next.

Symphony of Espers

Samuel Howard

S a m u e l H o w a r d

_{30 y/o | Male | 5'9 | 163 lbs | G.E.M.I.N.I}
🗡️

APPEARANCE:

Samuel would not generally stand out in a crowd. He stands at an exceptionally plain height of 5'9 and owns what appears to be a slim build. His one saving grace, a handsome face, is far too often obscured by raven-black locks that stonewall attempts at grooming them to matter significantly. His attire while at his job had always consisted of appropriate suits, but he chooses comfort over style on the rare chances he gets to laze about. Since he obtained his grimoire and began to affiliate himself with G.E.M.I.N.I, he has taken to wearing flashier attire whenever he works with them. Still mostly suits.

Normal Attire

G.E.M.I.N.I Attire

In Stark contrast to his human form, his esper form does anything but blend in with a crowd. When in this form, he assumes a frightening and demonic visage complete with glowy-red eyes and a twisted, perpetual smile. Though not a one for one, the clothing it wears takes inspiration on what Sam is wearing at the moment of transformation. The attire is always fashioned a crimson red and has no true effect other than cosmetic.

Esper Form

GRIMIORE:

A white domino mask with a thin black outline around the eyes. It would look right at home on a caped crusader or even a villain. Despite the lack of string to hold it up, it has no problems staying on the face of one who wears it. It gives off eerie vibes if you stare directly at it for too long.

INSTRUMENT: Rip, Tear

A tarnished sword owning a faded design that had once been quite extravagant, held alongside a dagger in an even worst state of decay. Despite their rusted blades, they have quite the edge thanks to the arcane energy stored within.
GRADE: Silver
KEYWORD: Dagger, Sword
DAMAGE TYPE: Arcane (dagger), Arcane(sword)
DAMAGE: C
SPEED: C
SENTINEL: D
SPECIAL: Rupture - A strike from his weapon needs not be fatal immediately. When successfully hitting a foe with a defense rank equal to or higher than his attack with his dagger, he leaves a lasting wound that does the equivalent of an E-grade damage note in physical damage for 2 turns.

STYLE: Delusion

Samuel forgoes his human form and adopts a demonic appearance that now stands at the same height as him, moderately alters the sound of his voice, and noticeably distorts the light around him. Compared to his prior appearance, he is also less lithe, and his form seems to assimilate the clothing he's wearing into it instead of being influenced by it.

GRADE: Silver
PHYSICAL: D
ARCANE: C
CHAOS: D
SPECIAL: Dying Light - Samuel benefits from an increased resistance to both Darkness and Light melodies by a single rank, but only in dim or darker lighting, such as at night or while obscured in mundane shadow.

GENRE: Malice

Samuel's magics intend to mask his presence, strip away his opponent's defenses, whittle them down, and force them into disadvantageous situations he can make use of while they can't properly fight back.

GRADE: Silver
ELEMENT: Darkness
NOTES: [Obfuscate (4)] [Intangible (4)], Damage X (6), Pull (2), Dispel (6), Mana Burn (6), Restrain (4), Extend (2), Trap (0), Piercing (2), Full Enhance (4)
SPECIAL: Devious Intent - Enemies recently affected by Sam's Control notes are assaulted by visions of violence, making it hard to concentrate. A delay note with a duration of 1 second is added to the start of their next melody or arcane ability.

LEITMOTIF: Creeping Anxiety

Though he may speak kind words and sometimes perform kind deeds, there exists a sense of impending doom that follows him, not unlike a shadow.

GRADE: Bronze
SPECIAL: Hallucinate - While transformed, Samuel's voice seemingly comes from within the mind of those that could reasonably hear it, accompanied by a legion of demonic echoes, and people cannot help but feel hypervigilant around him.

BACKUP: YPINMFMP

A Ping Pong ball gifted to him by his boss, Fritzi, in recognition of his failed attempts at beating her in the sport. The absurd tenacity it inspires when hitting friendlies clearly sets it apart from its mundane brethren.

GRADE: Bronze
BACKUP MELODY: [Bronze Projectile][Bounce][Piercing][If Ally][Or][If Self][Stabilize] = 80
SPECIAL: Empowered - The Ping Pong Ball glows a certain color when charged, and leaves a bit of that color on anything it hits. It probably washes out. It is red when it has expended its power.

PR: Umbral Contingencies

An assortment of practical equipment, mainly carried in the potential event Samuel cannot remain transformed, yet hasn't lost consciousness. It includes armor to protect his fragile body, a pair of handcuffs to restrain an individual, some basic medical supplies, and a concealable baton for use in self defense.

GRADE: Bronze
GEAR: Clip light, Kevlar Vest, Self Defense Weapon, x1 Handcuff, x1 Medical Supplies
SPECIAL: Limited Budget, Maximum Style - All of his gear is purchased or altered superficially so as not to conflict, visually, with his suits.

TRIVIA:

Biography

Samuel was born to a wealthy couple who never seemed to run out of money but was always lacking in affection. He was given any material goods he wanted and was tutored in an instrument but was left under the care of a nanny more often than his parents. His parents expected much of him, though they treated him more like an asset than a child. Because of this, he was rather haughty growing up, thinking himself better than others.

He used his parent's money to buy gifts which he used to obtain friends, made other people do his work for him, and generally acted just like you would expect a spoiled brat to.

Shortly after he entered high school, a few friends of his got together with him and had a movie night. Samuel became enthralled by the ending of a sports movie they watched. He saw the protagonist, in a final game, score an impossible play that let them win the game. He was treated like some sort of hero, with everyone jumping in excitement, singing his praises, and even getting a kiss! Oh, that was the sort of attention he wanted for sure, so he thought it wise to try out for a few different teams in his school.

...They didn't go as planned. He was never too athletic in the past and it came back to bite him in the ass as he underperformed. So he thought about taking on his studies. Someone like him should be the smartest person in the school if he puts his mind to it, right? He ended up struggling to even have passing grades when he removed the people who had been doing his work up to this point.

Being the spoiled rich kid he was, he couldn't just admit that the problem was him, so he lashed out against everyone, including his own friends. One even ended up getting into a fight with him, if you could call it that, and left Samuel both on the floor and a bit more humble. He was left alone and even then he did not receive respite. A tragic accident took his parents and his life turned completely upside down.

He was taken in by his grandmother and the combined stress of everything happening plus a lowered standard of living made their relationship rocky at the start. She put him through a hellish training regime that involved taking out the trash when it was full, cleaning up after himself, and learning how to cook. He could swear he was going to die at first, but somehow he pulled through. He settled into the new lifestyle and began to open up a little more. He formed a strong bond with his grandmother over time.

The Samuel that entered his junior year was a completely different person than the one on freshman year. He became a lot more quiet, reserved, and infinitely more polite. He focused hard on his studies and practiced his instrument of choice (bass guitar) and graduated with no problem.

As an only child, Samuel's eighteenth birthday was a very important date. His parents' deaths left him with a sizable inheritance, more than enough to live off of if he didn't do anything stupid with it. But he didn't want it. He hadn't really earned it, and he was afraid that he might lose this progress as a person if he took it.

So he gave it to his grandmother, who was far more worthy of it than he. He then told her about his intentions of moving out and earning things for himself. While his grandma respected the character needed to make the decision, she made it quite clear she wasn't leaving him out to dry entirely. She would send him a package every year with a bit of fund and a present.

Biography, but this time it's more relevant

Since then, a decade and a couple of years passed and Samuel has a relatively stable job as an office manager and frequents a local nightclub where he plays his bass. Pax Septimus was not his first choice to live, honestly, but he saw an opportunity to progress up the ladder and took it.

Lamentably, Sam was an OC not allowed to stay that way forever. On his thirtieth birthday, Samuel received a package similar to the ones he had received over the years, only this one was on the smaller side. He left for work before opening it, deciding that it made the most sense to open it while he was celebrating. So, he worked the day away and went drinking with a few coworkers at night at the nightclub. He opened his package to find a strange domino mask alongside the money and raised an eyebrow. He felt a chill when his gaze lingered too long, so he threw it back in one of his suit pockets and laughed it off.

By the time he and his coworkers were done, it was well into the AM. Nobody was in a proper state of mind, not even himself, but he called a cab for the others and then began to walk home, citing the short distance between his place and the club for why. This turned out to be a mistake.

Samuel Howard felt a pair of eyes on his back and the wind began to get chillier as he walked, but he couldn't spot anyone when he looked around. Yet he still could swear someone or something was watching him. He tried his best to fight off the looming dread, recalling all the wonderful things about Pax Septimus. Like how it was a safe place and everyone was happy...!

Of course, such delusions do not make for reality, and as if offended by his shoddy attempt at mentally retreating, his stalker revealed itself! It was difficult to see at night, especially as the lights around it began to dim and flicker. Its shape was vaguely humanoid, covered in what appeared to be a living shadow, and held an object of some sort to its side. Its eyes appeared to be made of hellfire and it oozed hostility.

Beyond that, Samuel couldn't see as it suddenly lunged forth to attack him!

Despite his inebriation, he somehow managed to roll to the side and decided immediately to escape, running as fast as he could away from it. But it wasn't long before it caught up and he was forced to avoid another attack. He wasn't quick enough to evade it entirely and took an attack to the side, which sent him tumbling to the floor as the package containing the mask slipped out.

Samuel wasn't in pain, but seeing the blood pour out of his side had caused him to freeze. He looked up at the figure that began to approach him, raising its arm as if to finish the job, mere seconds away. Time seemed to crawl to a close in what he was sure to be his last moments. Overwhelming despair began to claim him as his life flashed before him, reminding him of the life he had lived so far.

...It was sad. He couldn't deny it. How he was. And how he had become. Neither of them would be remembered for anything significant after they passed, and they had never achieved anything of worth. What else could that be but sad?

He understood deep down what had become of him. He was just a coward. The thought of returning to the old, arrogant Samuel was terrifying. He was so scared of returning to those old ways that he confused ambition for greed and rid himself of it. It was so safe to work in an office instead of pursuing an actual career with his bass guitar. He could've stayed and helped his grandma but he fled the home to avoid the responsibility, figuring money he gave her would do the work for him.

The only thing that had changed about him was that he was now driven by fear instead of pride! It was pathetic! And even now, about to die, he would do so because he was too scared to move!

...Damn it! Now just isn't the time to be dead! Grandma slapped the quitter out of me years ago! There's gotta be something...!

His eyes fell upon the mask. It looked unremarkable, compared to what Samuel felt when he observed it. The eerie feeling he had before was amplified far beyond what it exuded earlier. And it was nothing but...

Fear. Unmatched by any other. The assailant standing before him couldn't compare. His impending death was nothing before it. He saw a vision of his life once again crumbling into ash as he lost everything he held dear. Everyone he ever knew dying painfully, cursing his name as they did, including his grandma. It tore him apart.

He concluded:

It was pure evil. Malevolence was given form in the shape of a domino mask. No good should come from it. The day this was removed from the world would be cause for celebration.

...but still, he grabbed for it. Even as terrified as he was, he wasn't about to go back on what he decided! Quitting was out of the question. Quivering in fear just because he was about to be murdered for no reason or because Satan dropped some demonic artifact in front of him wouldn't stop him. He'd at least die trying! And besides, if he didn't, the person trying to kill him might!

Samuel successfully grabbed the mask before he could be finished. He began to 'feel' shadows, owned an unnatural understanding of them, and knew he could now use them. Silhouettes in the shape of hands came from the ground and towered above him, before crashing down on him, dispersing into a dark haze that hid his form.

But when he emerged?

His devilish appearance was more than enough to send his attacker into a full-speed retreat into the shadows, though Samuel wasn't graced with his terrified screams as he did. Considering the emotional rollercoaster that they caused, didn't they earn a whole lot worse than a simple scare? Much to what he felt to be the mask's dismay, Samuel did not choose to pursue the attacker, and instead, his body chose to collapse right then and there as a result of the mix of stress and blood loss. Someone found him and got him to a hospital, and he made a full recovery.

Samuel was strangely confronted by G.E.M.I.N.I before the police could get to him, though that was probably for the better. They introduced him to this new and magical world, and after spending a couple of weeks deciding on how he should approach the situation, he ended up siding with G.E.M.I.N.I and becoming one of its agents.

Symphony of Espers

Samuel Howard

S a m u e l H o w a r d

_{30 y/o | Male | 5'9 | 163 lbs | G.E.M.I.N.I}
🗡️

APPEARANCE:

Samuel would not generally stand out in a crowd. He stands at an exceptionally plain height of 5'9 and owns what appears to be a slim build. His one saving grace, a handsome face, is far too often obscured by raven-black locks that stonewall attempts at grooming them to matter significantly. His attire while at his job had always consisted of appropriate suits, but he chooses comfort over style on the rare chances he gets to laze about. Since he obtained his grimoire and began to affiliate himself with G.E.M.I.N.I, he has taken to wearing flashier attire whenever he works with them. Still mostly suits.

Normal Attire

G.E.M.I.N.I Attire

In Stark contrast to his human form, his esper form does anything but blend in with a crowd. When in this form, he assumes a frightening and demonic visage complete with glowy-red eyes and a twisted, perpetual smile. Though not a one for one, the clothing it wears takes inspiration on what Sam is wearing at the moment of transformation. The attire is always fashioned a crimson red and has no true effect other than cosmetic.

Esper Form

GRIMIORE:

A white domino mask with a thin black outline around the eyes. It would look right at home on a caped crusader or even a villain. Despite the lack of string to hold it up, it has no problems staying on the face of one who wears it. It gives off eerie vibes if you stare directly at it for too long.

INSTRUMENT: Stab, Slash

A sword with an extravagant design paired with an equally audacious dagger that is used primarily for parrying. Power resides within both that escapes with each attack, arcane in nature.
GRADE: Bronze
KEYWORD: Dagger, Sword
DAMAGE TYPE: Arcane (dagger), Arcane(sword)
DAMAGE: D
SPEED: D
SENTINEL: D
SPECIAL: The area directly around the blade of each weapon seems to dim, much like the effect around Sam.

STYLE: Paranoia

Samuel forgoes his human form and adopts a demonic appearance that stands a couple of feet taller than him, lightly alters the sound of his voice, and subtly distorts the light around him. Nothing resembling skin can be seen, as anywhere his clothes wouldn't obscure is pitch-black. He may even just be the clothes pulled together by magic of some sort, though he still experiences pain and the like.

GRADE: Bronze
PHYSICAL: E
ARCANE: C
CHAOS: D
SPECIAL: Hullucinate - When he is not in their line of sight and is aware of them, Samuel's voice has a very faint echo and sounds as though it is coming from a person's own mind, though instinctively they still know where it is coming from. Visual confirmation or his obliviousness to your presence removes this effect.

GENRE: Malice

Samuel's magics intend to mask his presence, strip away his opponent's defenses, whittle them down, and force them into disadvantageous situations he can make use of while they can't properly fight back.

GRADE: Silver
ELEMENT: Darkness
NOTES: [Obfuscate (4)] [Intangible (4)], Damage X (6), Pull (2), Dispel (6), Mana Burn (6), Restrain (4), Extend (2), Trap (0), Piercing (2), Full Enhance (4)
SPECIAL: Devious Intent - Enemies recently affected by Sam's Control notes are assaulted by visions of violence, making it hard to concentrate. A delay note with a duration of 1 second is added to the start of their next melody or arcane ability.

LEITMOTIF: Creeping Anxiety

Light around his form dims ever so slightly, just enough to be noticable.

GRADE: Bronze
SPECIAL: Proximity to Samuel in his esper form causes one to feel as though something is amiss, even when there is not. It can be ignored rather easily and does not affect coherent thought.

TRIVIA:

Biography

Samuel was born to a wealthy couple who never seemed to run out of money but was always lacking in affection. He was given any material goods he wanted and was tutored in an instrument but was left under the care of a nanny more often than his parents. His parents expected much of him, though they treated him more like an asset than a child. Because of this, he was rather haughty growing up, thinking himself better than others.

He used his parent's money to buy gifts which he used to obtain friends, made other people do his work for him, and generally acted just like you would expect a spoiled brat to.

Shortly after he entered high school, a few friends of his got together with him and had a movie night. Samuel became enthralled by the ending of a sports movie they watched. He saw the protagonist, in a final game, score an impossible play that let them win the game. He was treated like some sort of hero, with everyone jumping in excitement, singing his praises, and even getting a kiss! Oh, that was the sort of attention he wanted for sure, so he thought it wise to try out for a few different teams in his school.

...They didn't go as planned. He was never too athletic in the past and it came back to bite him in the ass as he underperformed. So he thought about taking on his studies. Someone like him should be the smartest person in the school if he puts his mind to it, right? He ended up struggling to even have passing grades when he removed the people who had been doing his work up to this point.

Being the spoiled rich kid he was, he couldn't just admit that the problem was him, so he lashed out against everyone, including his own friends. One even ended up getting into a fight with him, if you could call it that, and left Samuel both on the floor and a bit more humble. He was left alone and even then he did not receive respite. A tragic accident took his parents and his life turned completely upside down.

He was taken in by his grandmother and the combined stress of everything happening plus a lowered standard of living made their relationship rocky at the start. She put him through a hellish training regime that involved taking out the trash when it was full, cleaning up after himself, and learning how to cook. He could swear he was going to die at first, but somehow he pulled through. He settled into the new lifestyle and began to open up a little more. He formed a strong bond with his grandmother over time.

The Samuel that entered his junior year was a completely different person than the one on freshman year. He became a lot more quiet, reserved, and infinitely more polite. He focused hard on his studies and practiced his instrument of choice (bass guitar) and graduated with no problem.

As an only child, Samuel's eighteenth birthday was a very important date. His parents' deaths left him with a sizable inheritance, more than enough to live off of if he didn't do anything stupid with it. But he didn't want it. He hadn't really earned it, and he was afraid that he might lose this progress as a person if he took it.

So he gave it to his grandmother, who was far more worthy of it than he. He then told her about his intentions of moving out and earning things for himself. While his grandma respected the character needed to make the decision, she made it quite clear she wasn't leaving him out to dry entirely. She would send him a package every year with a bit of fund and a present.

Biography, but this time it's more relevant

Since then, a decade and a couple of years passed and Samuel has a relatively stable job as an office manager and frequents a local nightclub where he plays his bass. Pax Septimus was not his first choice to live, honestly, but he saw an opportunity to progress up the ladder and took it.

Lamentably, Sam was an OC not allowed to stay that way forever. On his thirtieth birthday, Samuel received a package similar to the ones he had received over the years, only this one was on the smaller side. He left for work before opening it, deciding that it made the most sense to open it while he was celebrating. So, he worked the day away and went drinking with a few coworkers at night at the nightclub. He opened his package to find a strange domino mask alongside the money and raised an eyebrow. He felt a chill when his gaze lingered too long, so he threw it back in one of his suit pockets and laughed it off.

By the time he and his coworkers were done, it was well into the AM. Nobody was in a proper state of mind, not even himself, but he called a cab for the others and then began to walk home, citing the short distance between his place and the club for why. This turned out to be a mistake.

Samuel Howard felt a pair of eyes on his back and the wind began to get chillier as he walked, but he couldn't spot anyone when he looked around. Yet he still could swear someone or something was watching him. He tried his best to fight off the looming dread, recalling all the wonderful things about Pax Septimus. Like how it was a safe place and everyone was happy...!

Of course, such delusions do not make for reality, and as if offended by his shoddy attempt at mentally retreating, his stalker revealed itself! It was difficult to see at night, especially as the lights around it began to dim and flicker. Its shape was vaguely humanoid, covered in what appeared to be a living shadow, and held an object of some sort to its side. Its eyes appeared to be made of hellfire and it oozed hostility.

Beyond that, Samuel couldn't see as it suddenly lunged forth to attack him!

Despite his inebriation, he somehow managed to roll to the side and decided immediately to escape, running as fast as he could away from it. But it wasn't long before it caught up and he was forced to avoid another attack. He wasn't quick enough to evade it entirely and took an attack to the side, which sent him tumbling to the floor as the package containing the mask slipped out.

Samuel wasn't in pain, but seeing the blood pour out of his side had caused him to freeze. He looked up at the figure that began to approach him, raising its arm as if to finish the job, mere seconds away. Time seemed to crawl to a close in what he was sure to be his last moments. Overwhelming despair began to claim him as his life flashed before him, reminding him of the life he had lived so far.

...It was sad. He couldn't deny it. How he was. And how he had become. Neither of them would be remembered for anything significant after they passed, and they had never achieved anything of worth. What else could that be but sad?

He understood deep down what had become of him. He was just a coward. The thought of returning to the old, arrogant Samuel was terrifying. He was so scared of returning to those old ways that he confused ambition for greed and rid himself of it. It was so safe to work in an office instead of pursuing an actual career with his bass guitar. He could've stayed and helped his grandma but he fled the home to avoid the responsibility, figuring money he gave her would do the work for him.

The only thing that had changed about him was that he was now driven by fear instead of pride! It was pathetic! And even now, about to die, he would do so because he was too scared to move!

...Damn it! Now just isn't the time to be dead! Grandma slapped the quitter out of me years ago! There's gotta be something...!

His eyes fell upon the mask. It looked unremarkable, compared to what Samuel felt when he observed it. The eerie feeling he had before was amplified far beyond what it exuded earlier. And it was nothing but...

Fear. Unmatched by any other. The assailant standing before him couldn't compare. His impending death was nothing before it. He saw a vision of his life once again crumbling into ash as he lost everything he held dear. Everyone he ever knew dying painfully, cursing his name as they did, including his grandma. It tore him apart.

He concluded:

It was pure evil. Malevolence was given form in the shape of a domino mask. No good should come from it. The day this was removed from the world would be cause for celebration.

...but still, he grabbed for it. Even as terrified as he was, he wasn't about to go back on what he decided! Quitting was out of the question. Quivering in fear just because he was about to be murdered for no reason or because Satan dropped some demonic artifact in front of him wouldn't stop him. He'd at least die trying! And besides, if he didn't, the person trying to kill him might!

Samuel successfully grabbed the mask before he could be finished. He began to 'feel' shadows, owned an unnatural understanding of them, and knew he could now use them. Silhouettes in the shape of hands came from the ground and towered above him, before crashing down on him, dispersing into a dark haze that hid his form.

But when he emerged?

His devilish appearance was more than enough to send his attacker into a full-speed retreat into the shadows, though Samuel wasn't graced with his terrified screams as he did. Considering the emotional rollercoaster that they caused, didn't they earn a whole lot worse than a simple scare? Much to what he felt to be the mask's dismay, Samuel did not choose to pursue the attacker, and instead, his body chose to collapse right then and there as a result of the mix of stress and blood loss. Someone found him and got him to a hospital, and he made a full recovery.

Samuel was strangely confronted by G.E.M.I.N.I before the police could get to him, though that was probably for the better. They introduced him to this new and magical world, and after spending a couple of weeks deciding on how he should approach the situation, he ended up siding with G.E.M.I.N.I and becoming one of its agents.

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

@BrokenPromise Why are you mentioning me in a topic that starts with "Maybe it's because my favorite Resident Evil is 6". Please use mentions in a responsible manner, please!

I got collabs to write in, some garbage ESPER RP to look at, a Pathfinder character to make, a Pathfinder crusade to lead, and I really think the last thing I need right now is being reminded that I need to go through Photonmelodies and the Day After. Or that Total Eclipse exists at all. I won't spoiler anything and just hard spoil that entire series right now:



The OP is the only worthwhile thing about it save the character designs.

Darkest Before the Dawn: A CYOA Magical Girl Roleplay [Completed]

E m i l y

"You should have known the price of evil."

— Emily

Sakura would notice Emily wasn't smiling as he approached her and almost seemed to be devoid of any life or cheerfulness that she was typically known for. Initially, she seemed to be staring at a four-leaf clover pin that she got from the event, but looking even a little closer would reveal she wasn't focused on anything, as if she had accepted the present and then just 'shut off mentally.

And then she heard Sakura's voice.

She nearly jumped from being startled by it, letting out a yelp in the process. It clearly snapped her out of her listless trance, but she neither immediately answered nor looked directly at Sakura. She brought a hand to her lips, touching them with her fingers as though she were recalling the experience, and then, oddly, her expression drastically changed in an instant. It wasn't the picture of fear or sadness, and it certainly was not happiness, either.

A momentary lapse in inhibitions led to her baring her teeth, pulling her arm back, and releasing a wicked slap across the boy's cheek. She was far from physically strong, but the intent and effort were there. It was only after this that she looked up towards him, anger etched into her features. "Stop...!" Emily ordered, the realization that she had just harmed someone dawning on her partway and causing her eyes to open wide. Yet this reaction was fleeting, and she did not move to apologize or back down like one might expect her to. It did calm her a little, though, and so, with hand still raised from the slap, she spoke in a pained voice. "...I don't wan-- I can't speak with you right now, Sakura. Please... leave me alone."

Darkest Before the Dawn: A CYOA Magical Girl Roleplay [Completed]

J u s t i n e

H e l e w i s a

O l i v e r

---

"It is only natural that with our heart, will, and cooperation that we were dubbed the champions of this contest," Justine proudly declared, humility being left in the snow to suffer a cold, cruel end. Hilaria and Justine both accepted and stowed their coins and for a moment, the two of them proudly admired their contest-winning dragon.

"Mmm?" Helewisa glanced around only to find something was missing. "We had a third, did we not? I wonder where she ran off to?" Hiliaria and Stien had found themselves abandoned by their newest friend, but neither of them seemed upset by this. A party was a chance to mingle and talk to many new people, and not everyone wanted to form a group for the entirety of the party. Lingering on this small fact was pointless when they could instead thrust themselves onto someone else!

Or so that's what Justine decided for the couple as they wondered what to do next. There was a lot of commotion involving sleds which, although it looked fun, was a bit hectic and Helewisa wanted to spend at least a few moments relaxing after nearly nuking a snowfort and being hit by building-sized snowballs. She, along with Justine, was proud of what they had accomplished with Betty, so she felt they deserved a modicum of relaxation. And besides... if they had found a nice, quiet place to enjoy themselves, would Dan really intrude upon them? Surely the positive vibes they would give off would encourage him to look the other way!

"Stien, Stien!" Wisa called out to the energetic girl with a bit of sugar in her voice. She was far from inexperienced, but approaching someone she actually felt close to brought about a bit of a red tint to her cheeks. "Despite our shenanigans thus far, I truly feel as though time has made strangers of us. A-and, I believe it would be a true shame were we to not enjoy ourselves... so..." she struggled to proposition Justine which was new as Helewisa had not struggled with confidence in quite some time. "...would it not make sense to become more... say, 'familiar?'"

Justine was looking off in the distance almost as though she were ruminating on something. "Aye," she said. "Today is a day of celebration! Of enjoyment, is it not? Our lives are full of strife and scarce, comparably, does opportunity to indulge to such an extent present itself before our very gates! Yes... to ignore the calling... to act not when action is needed... such behavior breeds little but regret!"

Even though it was Justine, Helewisa had to admit she wasn't expecting such an encouraging response. A simple 'yes' or 'no' would have sufficed. But she wasn't about to complain. She wrapped her arms around Justine's neck and pressed her chest against her back, almost squealing in delight. "Oh, it pleases me to hear you say so!" she couldn't help but grin and wonder if Aphrodite had blessed her this day. "Then, shall we?"

Her question prompted Justine to turn around and, with a smile etched on her face, she replied. "It brings me such joy to know that you remain ever eager to bring pleasure to others," she gave her hearty laugh. "Very well! Since every moment spent idle is time wasted, we shall depart! I am confident that he shall end up a happier man in the end!"

Stien's statement caused Helewisa to tilt her head. She wasn't sure where this 'he' came from. She was hoping to enjoy an intimate moment with just the two of them, and although such carnal actions were not something she hadn't participated in before... Stien was never the sort for that! She was wholly devoted to one person, and these acts, although she would be proactive in approaching them, were sacred and meant for the one she loved, or so she had always claimed. What happened? Had this horror, bringing about her appearance, tainted her? Helewisa became a bit upset. She knew it was too good to be true that the real Justine was here... but she was still hoping she could trick herself otherwise at least for this party! But now...

"Hear me, oh slothful one!" Justine suddenly called out to a man minding his own business, plugging away at his laptop. "Does it not strike you as disappointing to allow the occasion to go by? Pray tell: what business do you have on that machine that takes precedence over the festivities that are currently ongoing?"

While his friend was outside at the race, Oliver remained at his seat with a glass of ale, typing away at the laptop that came with his backpack. With his clones not only acting as survelance but joining in on the more tamer events, he could have some time to himself without worry.

So when the bold blonde in blue called out to him, he naturally flinched and glanced over. "Eh?? What makes you believe that? Look around you! Just cause I'm here doesn't mean I'm also there, and there as well!" He motioned to some of the other Olivers that were in the lodge. Other than that, he didn't seem phased by the boisterous Justine.

Justine followed his motions and spotted the other figures sharing his same appearance. "Oh," she said. "It would seem appearances can be misleading! Fwahaha!" her response to the blunder was merely to laugh it off.

Helewisa appeared upset, like she was incredibly disappointed with something, but also frustrated. "Stien, you're pestering him," she chided. "He may be doing homework or something of great importance," Wisa warned, looking over to see Oliver's features. Her expression seemed to relax if only a little bit. "Although... I tend to have a difficult time recalling people, but you seem somewhat familiar, Mr....?"

"Oh, it's alright! I was just catching up on stuff like work." Oliver reassured Helewisa with a polite smile. Though his eyes did widen when she asked for his name. "I didn't introduce myself yet did I? Oliver Kyle, good to meet ya!" The optimistic phantom held a hand out for one of them to shake.

"Oliver?" Helewisa repeated, testing the name. It wasn't like she hadn't met an Oliver before, nor was that some unique, rare name. But with a familiar face and that name, she could positively say they'd probably met at least once before. "Hmm, I do believe we've interacted at least once before..."

"Is that so?" Justine turned her head to Wisa before looking back to Oliver with a tilted head. "Another staunch ally of justice, I would hope."

Wisa hesitated to nod, as though she were not entirely certain. "...Vaguely, the recollection of the extermination of monsters comes to mind." Defeating monsters was something most every girl, even if they were a boy and evil. And even if she would tell Stien otherwise, it was not like she had turned down unsavory clients these past few centuries. So she did worry a little bit that Oliver may not be the paragon of good Justine expected her acquaintances to be. "That's... well, I don't think this was recent relative to your average magical girl. At least some decades if not more, so I'm a bit surprised I managed to recall anything about you," her memory had been getting better and coming back as of late. "O-oh, I suppose I went on a tangent," Wisa took his outstretched hand and gave it a shake. "My name is Hilaria," she told him.

Stien smiled once Wisa had finished, looking Oliver in the eyes and exuding a strong, confident presence (as she typically did). "I am known as Justine, though it doesn't bother me if you address me as Stien. It would seem there's another that shares my name and is quite infamous attending this party as well, so that may be ideal," she took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "If you truly did assist my dear Wisa, then I am indebted to you as I have been a failure on that front for far too long! Do not hesitate to ask anything reasonable of me, fwahaha!"

"You're not from this century too?" Oliver curiously tilted his head. He thought for a moment. "Yes, you do seem familiar as well. Was it the fight against that one Monster King, or was it the Banshee and her thralls? Hm." He thought aloud. "Regardless, it's good to see ya, Hilaria! And nice to meet ya too, Stein! If you have the time, you should go say hi to Vanhorn too later." He smiled. Oliver didn't want to namedrop Finn outright, but maybe it'll help jog Hilaria's memory. Atleast he hoped it would.

"Verily," Justine responded. "Some six hundred years ago in France, like enough. My dearest Wisa is half again and a century older than I," she frowned. "As many of our sisters perish and are abandoned by their patrons, it is a disheartening sooth to admit that it is not oft to find others who share a similar age."

Hilaria nodded. "Mmm, they who triumph over the test of time are a sight for sore eyes. We experience none of the limitations of a human, yet still it is commonplace to find naught but new blood around," she seemed less disturbed by the reality than her friend. "But let us not spoil a celebratory party with such things. About your friend and our past encounter, I do believe we made short work of a banshee! I'm glad time has not made complete strangers of us. Bits and pieces are returning to me as we speak, something I haven't had happen in quite some time!" this seemed to excite Hilaria. "But if you have matters to attend to, we can save this spontaneous reunion another time."

Oliver's smile grew as Hilaria managed to piece things together, if atleast some. Then she asked if they should leave him be. "Hm." The ghost turned to grab his glass of ale, then downed the rest of it in one sitting. "Well, if you have any ideas for what to do, I can hear them out!"

"Admittedly, the two of us were supposed to spend some time relaxing after the amount of effort we spent on a snowdragon," Hilaria explained, looking at Justine who shrugged in response. Turning back to Oliver, she smiled. "It happens that I made my intentions to join the sledding event, but it seems to have started. Is that something that might interest you?" Hilaria glanced at the mug of ale the ghost was drinking from.

Justine grinned. "Your desires lay bare for all to see with such an open expression, Wisa," the flamboyant girl offered her gaze to Oliver after saying this. "Allow me to take my leave if only for a moment. I suspect Wisa is also as parched as I and some ale would slake that thirst." Having explained her objective, Stien left to grab the two girls a drink, leaving the two alone.

Looking around as if searching for something to do, Hilaria suddenly raised a finger. Having obviously thought of something, a small grin appeared on her face. "Or rather than sledding... Might I ask something of you?" she didn't wait for him to answer. "How would you say your singing voice is?"

"We could probably hit the slopes after the race." Oliver shrugged. One of his clones reported seeing Finn participate in the race, so he'd check back on him later. Then Stien excused herself to get some ale for her and Hilaria. He chuckled. Can't blame her, the drinks are good. The ghost turned his laptop off and stuffed it back into his satchel, looking back to Hilaria once she asked her question. His eyebrows rose.

"Singing? I mean, my main game is the drums, but I'd like to think I'm decent." Oliver shrugged again.

"Oh, how wonderful!" Hilaria gave a small clap. "Karaoke is not the first activity one thinks of during a Christmas party, but where there's a good drink, delicious food, handsome men, and beautiful girls, then joyous singing is never far behind!" As she said as much, Justine returned with two mugs filled to the brim and foaming with their drink. She offered one to Hilaria, which she accepted.

"What is this?" Justine asked. "Did my ears deceive me or did I hear speak of singing?" Unlike Hilaria, Justine almost seemed to be on edge speaking about it.

Hilaria nodded. "You are correct! I was just asking Oliver here if he would be interested in karaoke! It's something we could partake in and enjoy whilst we relax and not exert ourselves."

"Karaoke? I am not familiar with this."

"We basically follow lyrics on a screen, it is nothing complex. Doesn't it sound fun?"

"Y-yes, your words do not strike me as false!" Justine tried to seem like she was into the idea. "And this would suit your fancy as well, Oliver?" she examined the boy's expression as she waited for an answer.

Judging by Stien's reaction, she didn't seem as enthusiastic about singing as Hilaria was. It kinda concerned Oliver. "Hey. It's cool if you have stage fright or something, I won't judge." He reassured Justine.

"I-I have no fear of the stage!" Justine protested. "But I lack the same musical talent that my dear Wisa does, and I do not often wish to subject others to performance they are not like to enjoy..."

Helewisa placed a hand on her shoulder. "But what does that matter? I do not wish to sing for other people, even if they are welcome to listen," she told Stien, smiling widely as if she were amused by the reaction. "We would be singing for the entertainment it provides us, nothing more. And if you still hesitate to partake, then you merely need a bit more liquid courage."

Nobody else would know this, but Hilaria had partially repeated something Justine said to her before. It seemed to have the desired effect as Justine's demenor changed back into the confident, proud woman she was. "It is as you say! Yes, forgive the hesitation!" she immediately downed the entire mug she had. "I shall require another, but there shall be glorious, wonderful song today!"

As Justine went to retrieve another drink, Wisa looked at Oliver. "So then, if you are fine with it, then I shall ask Dan if he can help with the setup."

Oliver nodded. "Sounds good."

Hilaria nodded before she called for Dan. He appeared almost immediately with his usual dolphin flair and Hilaria presented their wish for a karaoke set. As expected, the lighthearted fun they wanted to had was more than welcome and he had no problem obliging before wishing them well and returning to what he was doing prior.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Hilaria cheered once it had been set up. They had set up the set on a TV screen inside the cabin. It had, obviously, two microphones in case anyone wanted to do a duet, but for now Hilaria had grabbed one and was looking through the expansive list of songs she could sing. Since it was a magical construct made by Dan it was sure to have whatever song one could think of. "We have quite the range of songs!" she told them, almost starry-eyed. "With that said, who would care to go first?" she looked at Oliver and Justine.

"Try as I may, I do not fully recall the last time I let myself sing in public. It must have been ages ago as what I do remember is the joyous laughter ringing about through a tavern my brethren and I had occupied. Sooth is it to say that I had become rather intimate with the bottle that night."

Helewisa became almost a beet red and looked shocked. She opened her mouth to speak but Justine continued, seemingly oblivious to Wisa.

"Yes, as pigeon-eyed as I was the details elude me." Once the realization set in that Stien was talking about becoming inebriated, Wisa narrowed her eyes. "But I digress. The reason I bring such up is because I would very much prefer to enjoy another's performance before taking to the stage myself, if the both of you do not mind."

Closing her eyes and exhaling, Wisa recovered and again wore a smile. "What complaint could I have, Stien? Oh, but that just means you'll have a tough act or two to follow," she turned to Oliver and asked a question he could probably see coming from a mile away. "Well, Oliver, would you care to start us off, or should I?"

"Eh, guess I'll start. Only if ya don't laugh at me." Oliver walked up to grab the other microphone. He did feel an air of uncertainty, but promply shrugged it off.

"The courage to attempt something even in face of your fears is an admirable trait. They who would laugh at that are contemptable!" Justine gave what Wisa presumed to be encouragement.

Wisa nodded. "That is correct. It would be rude to ask you up and then make a jest at your expense. Besides, I have bore witness to Stien's singing, so you have little to worry about!"

Pfft-! Alright, alright. Lemme pick a song real quick!"

Time seemed to escape the trio as they enjoyed karaoke and more drinks. Hilaria had a rather beautiful singing voice, nailing higher notes than most could and it was clear she had experience. Meanwhile, Justine sang with all the elegance of nails on a chalkboard, making a clear contrast to her partner. Furthermore, red were the cheeks of both girls who had, at some point, started a competition to see who could tolerate the most alcohol. And despite being quite a few drinks in, they only seemed to now be feeling anything. One could only imagine the sheer bill they would wrack up if they had to pay for this.

As a little more time passed, Oliver began to feel as though his personal space wasn't being respected by Hilaria. It wasn't quite clear to him if it was intentional or not, but it wasn't something he could ignore, especially as Hilaria's outfit wasn't particularly conservative.

But eventually, all good things must end. Or at least be postponed. It soon came time for people to receive gifts from the White Elephant exchange. Wisa and Stien had seemed to be enjoying themselves, and now the blush was a lot more apparent on their faces, as well as the smell of alcohol on their breath. "It's time!" Wisa announced. "I am eager to see what I received!"

And so, they would join everyone else attending the event.

...

...

...

Hilaria had received some form of candy that gave truth to one of her dreams. Seeing the nature of the gift and assuming it worked as stated, she began to feel as though maybe she should have put a bit more 'oomph' into the gift she had given. But the reality was that it was too late to change things. "It looks delicious!" she exclaimed ecstatically with starry eyes, yet putting the candy away for now. "I'll think on it and save it for a time I can better enjoy it."

As Justine was only brought in after it had started, she naturally received nothing, a fact that didn't bother her much.
"Lady Luck has blessed you this day, it would seem. Though I caution you to not spend your present on your gluttony!" Stien heartily laughed, slapping Hilaria on the back a few times.