Hitman

𝚂𝚙𝚢 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑!

maybe

@canaryrose

I might be down to run this back.

@sly13

Your professions are more than welcome c:

𝚂𝚙𝚢 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑!

Thanks for your interest! Feel free to join the Discord server if you so choose.

𝚂𝚙𝚢 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑!

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𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚎. 𝙰𝚜 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝- 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍- 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎.

𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢. "𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎! 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝?" 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕. 𝚈𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕. 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎.

𝙻𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗.

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚛

Stratford, Tennessee. An unassuming, modest suburb of Nashville on the outskirts of the bustling core of Tennessee. Stratford is a fairly tight-knit community composed of a large mixture of cultural, political, and philosophical ideals, and is, in many ways, the picturesque American town. However, underneath the surface of the small town of Stratford lies a secret of massive proportions. Operating out of that cozy suburb is a branch of the US government's top-secret espionage agency, Promenade. Promenade is the oldest North American espionage agency and probably the most elusive as well. They are some of America's most dangerous, most elite, and most capable spies, individuals of enormous talent and skill level. And, to top it off, they're all attending the same high school in Stratford.

I can see your confusion, Senator. Allow me to backtrack a couple of centuries to reflect on Promenade's history.

Promenade is one of the oldest and most elite intelligence organizations in American history. Its existence is kept secret to all but those with the highest level of security clearance. Founded in 1776 under the authority of George Washington, the organization was led by one of Washington’s aides-de-camp, Major Hiram Bradshaw. Bradshaw, a master spy in his own right, believed that adult spies were too easy to be rooted out and discovered. He instead insisted that teenagers, an age range that surpassed that of a naive child but preceded that of a fully-fledged adult, were best suited for espionage, and asked Washington to commission a unit of teenage spies to help garner intel on the British movements in the war. Despite protest by members of the Continental Congress, Bradshaw’s wish was granted, and Promenade was formed. A highly successful endeavor on the behalf of the American colonists, Promenade was able to gain classified intel on the British Army’s battle strategy and, despite the capture and execution of Promenade member Nathan Hale, was able to successfully help navigate the Americans to victory without being fully discovered by the British.

Since then, Promenade has continued to be a major player in international affairs, sending operatives around the world on missions to help advance American interests and justice across the globe.

Now, I fully expect you to be exceedingly curious about the "high school" part. Promenade’s agents are composed of high-school-age kids that are given rigorous training to become a cohesive unit of highly-skilled spies. You've been transferred to our eastern branch of Promenade, which, since the Clintoh administration, has found a nice home at Franklin Pierce High School in Stratford. Franklin Pierce High School is, unbeknownst to almost all, sitting on top of a massive underground headquarters bustling with some of the most advanced technology the world has ever seen. These high school students have volunteered to undergo rigorous training to turn them into highly-effective super-spies. They've traveled the world, stopping all manner of plots and ploys to undermine global security, while also maintaining the responsibilities of being a high-school teenager. It's quite the balancing act, that is for certain.

Now, I'm sure you're thinking that this is some form of illicit experimentation of some sort. I will have you know now that every agent of Promenade is recruited voluntarily and allowed to leave at any time. Every action they take is out of their own free will. Furthermore, they incur significant benefits for being a part of the organization, such as government "assistance" in getting them into the college of their dreams. Most importantly, though, it's that sense of purpose and adventure that propels Promenade agents to do what they do. After all, saving the world is much more interesting than sitting behind a desk, learning about the Pythagorean theorem or the Russian revolution. It's those same sentiments that make teenagers such a fascinating secret agent- their balance of adult maturity and childish wonder. That is why Promenade has been so successful in the past, and why it continues to be the elite unit that it is today.

Promenade, affectionately referred to as Prom, is currently led by Nadia Sokolova, a former KGB operative that now works as a dance teacher and cheer coach by day, and top spy by night. What we need you to do, agent, is to keep an eye on the adventures (or should I say, misadventures) of this branch of Promenade. They may be the greatest spies the world has ever seen, but they are just kids, and you know how kids can be sometimes. It's frankly a miracle that Prom works, but they are the best.

Despite what first impressions might show.

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Thank you for reading! This is an old idea that I've been looking forwards to giving another shot! If you're interested or have any questions, please respond below, and feel free to pop into the Discord server as well!

Thanks again for reading!
- Hitman

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《 H.E.R.O. 2064 》

_{September 21st, 2064
Castleburg Bullet N-Train}

The traincar was an absolute bloodbath. Limbs flying about like discarded objects. Corpses hitting the ground one by one. Blood pooling across the entirety of the traincar. It was the definition of a massacre. In HERO slang, this was a textbook Section 15: the type of hero behavior that would certainly result in an investigation, maybe even questioning, though given the circumstances it was unlikely to result in any sort of actual punishment. That was simply the way crime and punishment worked, after all.

At this point, Chainsawyer was one of the few pirates left; or at least, he was one of the few pirates that was left living. His warpath had very briefly been halted, however, by the arrival of yet another hero, who had propelled a weaponized head directly at him. Chainsawyer, unlike many of those in HERO, was not the type to be bothered by the revelation that his comrades had been killed, mutilated, and then weaponized. He was there for one thing and one thing only- unrelenting violence. However, he was quickly to be taken out of commission. His attention was first distracted by the arrival of yet another hero, and he was disappointed to find that the coupling that he had very specifically cut apart was now welded together. Who did these people think they were?! He was looking forward to dicing them to pieces, that's for sure. However, the arrival of the redhead had distracted him from the much more important issue- he was being frozen in place. Everything below Chainsawyer's waist was now coated in a thick layer of ice. The man swung his chainsaw around angrily, but his attempts of actually incapacitating anybody were futile, thanks to Europa's efforts.

It would seem as though the pirate invasion had been quelled. The only pirates left in commission were Chainsawyer, who was frozen to the ground like a sculpture, and a couple of stragglers that were pretending to be dead in order to avoid being impaled on Blitz's arms (prison was better than the alternative, surely). To think that this was the end of the pirate raid, however, was simply foolish.

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"Not looking good."

Sam was sitting in the cockpit of the Vulture I. The Vulture I was one of Sam's prized possessions. A hovercraft just larger than a fighter jet, the Vulture I was originally purposed by the US military to retrieve cadavers from the battlefield, though Sam's modifications gave the device a lot more utility. The Vulture I was currently hovering just above the stopped train, observing the battle from afar. Sam tightened her fingers around the throttle as she looked at the holoscreen currently projecting a worrying slew of numbers. "Richardson's dead...Reeves is dead...Chen is a goner...Stuyvesant is unconscious...God damn, these guys are fucked." Sam gently tapped a console on the wheel of the device. "Angela, what's the situation in the front of the train?"

A brusk, deep, but feminine voice responded. "Neutralized," she responded simply over the comms.

Sam stretched her arms. "This is why I need more women in the fucking crew. We know how to get shit done," Sam said as the Vulture I dove down, now level with the rest of the train. Sam tapped a button on one side of the control panel. "Incisor," she said airily, and a single pulse of red light fired from the front of the ship, boring a medium-sized hole in the wall of the traincar, which now resembled a chunk of metal swiss cheese. Sam then tapped a button on the opposite side of the panel. "Reel it in," she said as she stretched her arms, and from the nose of the ship two cables rocketed out, grasping onto the side of the nuclear device. The Vulture I then pulled backwards, hauling the weapon out of the ground and through the hole. Hopefully, none of the heroes were pulled out with the weapon. The half-frozen Chainsawyer was not so lucky- the bomb smashed into him on its way out and sent him hurtling into the ravine.

Sam lifted both hands off the controls of the Vulture I, flipping the heroes off, before quickly soaring off into the sun, the nuclear weapon trailing behind her, and leaving the heroes with the daunting realization that somebody would have to call their boss to explain that they might just have failed.

Young Justice

P I E R 1 2

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M A Y 2 6^{T H} 2 0 2 1 | 1 0 : 5 0 P M | G O T H A M C I T Y , N J

"Come on, boys, we gotta get all these crates loaded onto the boat by midnight. That's a hard deadline, y'hear? Black Mask is gonna be real disappointed if we lose even one box of cargo."

Pier 12 was bustling with activity that evening, though this activity was decidedly surreptitious. A group of thugs, some of them armored, some of them strapped with guns, and all of them wearing black facemasks, were loading crates full of illegal weapons onboard the large freight ship that was anchored at the pier that day. The man calling the shots, a 6'4" fellow known as Shanks, was distinguishable from the rest of the thugs not by his face, which was also covered in a jet-black full-face mask, but by the clean white suit that easily established him as one of Black Mask's enforcers, and the immediate superior of the group assembled at the docks that night.

The crew continued their grunt work, loading crate after crate on board the freight ship as fast as they could. After all, they didn't want to make Black Mask mad. Many of them, truth be told, hadn't ever seen Black Mask before, and if they had, it probably wasn't for very long. That being said, Black Mask's enforcers were scary enough, and the guy that bossed the enforcers around? He had to be the scariest of them all. Despite the imminent threat of being fed to the fishes, though, there was another pressing issue that gnawed into the minds of the hardened thugs, and that was the girl in the chair.

The girl in the chair was pretty young. Not a kid, but not old-old. College-age, maybe. She was wearing some sort of antiquated armor that the weebs among the gang recognized as being samurai armor, albeit highly-modernized, well-forged, crimson samurai armor. She had long brown hair and a black eye from Jim smacking her across the face with a nightstick. She was also tied to the chair, and was actively glowering at the goons. The girl, who was apparently some type of vigilante named 'Demonslayer', had been spotted in her hiding spot after her phone's ringtone went off- the most Gen Z way of being caught, it seemed. The thugs had quickly knocked her out cold and tied her to the chair. Apparently, this girl had been causing some trouble for Black Mask recently, and Black Mask wanted to speak to the vigilante girl in the near future. And by speak, he probably meant kill. And so, there she was, tied helplessly to a chair. Her magic sword, which had burned Bobby's hands badly, had been stuffed into a barrel of fish and left for the time being. Another gift for Black Mask. \

Shanks, the enforcer, watched his crew load the boat while simultaneously thinking about just how big of a promotion he would get. Not only was he moving thousands- no, millions of dollars worth of military-grade weapons out of Gotham City, but he had also captured a major thorn in Black Mask's side. Shanks rubbed his hands together, dreaming of his soon-to-be-purchased yacht, as he made his way over to his hostage. He hadn't gotten a chance to intimidate teenagers since he was a bully in high school. He missed those simpler times of swirlies and wedgies. Not that he didn't enjoy extortion and torture, but some nostalgia was always nice. Shanks leaned in, hands on knees, to lower his mask to just above the girl's eye level. "Enjoying the view of the water, twerp?" he taunted, before chuckling to himself.

To his surprise, though, the girl bit back. "It's pretty nice. Y'know what I don't enjoy, though? Your stench. Wash your mask or something, dude, jeez."

Shanks was almost hurt. "You're talking a lot of smack for a girl that got caught because her phone started blasting Destiny's Child. And also for a girl that's, I don't know, tied to a chair right now. "

"First of all, not my phone," Maya said quickly. "And second, have you ever considered that maybe I wanted to get captured? And that I have you exactly where I want you?" Maya added with a hefty dose of swagger, craning her neck to look straight into the eyeholes of Shanks's mask.

The enforcer chuckled. "Sure thing, girlie." He leaned in so that his mask was only a few inches away from Maya's face. "I call your bluff-"

Maya then headbutted Shanks square in the face, crushing his nose. As the enforcer staggered back, blood oozing from his nostrils, he looked up to see that Maya's hands were somehow untied, and she was holding her sword somehow. Before he could truly process the information, however, the girl had swung her blade low, chopping the ropes off of her feet, and then had charged forwards, slicing Shanks directly across the chest. The masked enforcer was hit by a wave of pain. Unimaginable, grueling pain. He howled as he dropped to the floor, clutching his chest wound, and Maya stepped over his downed body. She looked up at the shocked gang of thugs, who were slowly gearing up to fight, before looking down at the katana she clutched in her hand again. "You ready to kick some ass, Senshi?"

"I am prepared. In the future, though, please try to avoid being captured because of your cellular phone," the demon responded to Maya.

Maya grit her teeth. "I told you, it was intentional," she muttered before charging into action.

Maya's motions were swift, deliberate, but also controlled. Each slash was dampened in its ferocity and severity by Maya's restraint. Maya vastly preferred incapacitating people non-lethally. The curse of Blood Moon was more than enough to neutralize even the burliest of opponents with even the smallest scratch. As such, Maya quickly bounced from thug to thug, striking nimbly at each one before darting to another. Her movements were sudden and unpredictable, and it was impossible for any one goon to get a clear shot on her without endangering his or her buddies. Though she had hardly cut the men, they were all writhing on the ground in pain as Maya only just touched them with her sword. In a matter of minutes, Maya had sawed through the entire group of men, and she stood alone in a circle of downed, moaning goons. All in all, a success. Except for her black eye. That wasn't so great. Still, make-up could do wonders.

As soon as Maya sent the last man careening to the ground with just a pinprick to his neck, Maya immediately dropped Blood Moon to the ground and fumbled at her armor. A moment later, she pulled her phone from belt and began dialing a number in. From his position on the floor of the docks, Senshi scoffed. "You are a liar, wakai hito. I should have known you weren't setting a trap."

"Shut up, you stupid demon," Maya grumbled as she rested the phone to her ear. A moment later, she spoke. "Katana? Hi. Sorry for not picking up. You, well, you caught me at a bad time." Maya rested a hand on her bruised eye. "What's going on?" Maya listened quietly, phone resting against her ear. "Young Justice initiative? About time they reached out to me...I know, I know...of course, I can do it, Katana...watashi wa yakusoku shimasu, watashi wa junbi ga dekite imasu...roger that. Thank you, Katana. I won't let you down." Maya pulled the phone from her ear. "New level of crimefighting, here we come, Senshi! You excited?"

"Please remove me from this disgusting, fishy floor."

"Right," Maya said quickly, kneeling down and plucking the katana from the ground. She removed a polishing cloth from her belt, wiping the grime and faint traces of blood from the blade, before giving Blood Moon an effortless twirl. "Now, let's chop up some military firearms, and then let's blow this popsicle stand. I have a lot of calls to make, and a good bit of packing to do, too. Where the hell is a Rhode Island, anyway? Is that in Canada or something?"

M T . J U S T I C E

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M A Y 2 8^{T H} 2 0 2 1 | 1 0 : 0 0 A M | H A P P Y H A R B O R , R I

"Somebody say new teammates?"

Just as Brightheart asked Batman about the identities of the new members of the Young Justice team, a shimmer of light sparkled from the Zeta-Tubes, and out from the teleporter emerged Maya. Maya looked, for the most part, like your average teen girl. She had a red t-shirt with a large chibi cat face on it, a pair of faded jeans that was torn at the knees, and a pair of combat boots, one of which was untied and had its laces dangling on the floor. She had definitive oriental features, a healthy, athletic build, and long walnut-brown wavy hair. The only thing unusual about Maya was the fact that, clipped from her belt, hung an ornate koshirae, and sheathed inside was what appeared to be an equally-ornate katana.

As the light show from the Zeta-Tube behind her died down, Maya's features turned into a sly grin as she swiftly drew her katana, twirling it around her hand, before throwing the blade directly in the air. The sword spun like a helicopter blade, a cyclone of metal spinning in the air, and it shot upwards before descending down towards Maya. Maya simply leaned backward and opened her mouth, catching her sword between her teeth by the hilt. She smirked as she held the sword in her mouth, giving a coy wink over to the Tamoranean girl at the briefing, before dropping the blade back into her hand, holding the sword in a reverse grip.

"Maya Kobayashi," the girl introduced herself, giving the blade one more spin and twirling it around her body before sheathing it once again. "You can also refer to me as 'the Demonslayer.' Though I think just Maya will suffice." Maya gave a quick salute to Batman before taking her seat at the briefing. "Heard something about a circus? Sounds fun. So long as I'm not the bearded lady, at least." Maya scooted her chair back, crossing her legs and resting her feet on the edge of the conference table. She listened to the well-dressed young man speak about circus roles. "I work with sharp things. Knife throwing, maybe? I'll note that I actually throw knives and don't just conjure up illusions." Her gaze shifted onto Zach briefly, a playful smile on her face, before she spoke again. "If anybody wants to be strapped to the dartboard, we can do a two-man show."

Hitman's Character Sheet Landfill

Demonslayer

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| NAME |

Maya Kobayashi

| AGE |

17

| MENTOR |

Katana

| APPEARANCE |

Maya has what has often been described as 'good genes' by those close to her. Maya has flawless rose beige skin and long, wavy locks of glistening chocolate brown hair. She stands slightly above the average female height at five foot six inches, with a muscular, wide-shouldered build. Her facial features are distinctly oriental, with thin, dark brown eyes complemented with a buttony nose and red lips often curled into a sly simper. Maya has an impressive build befitting an athlete, but much to her dismay, her more feminine characteristics never really developed to the extent that she'd have liked. Ah, well. You can't have it all.

Maya was never really a fashion queen. T-shirts, jeans, sweatpants, shorts, and anything else that screams 'casual' pretty much make up her wardrobe. She's not a big fan of skirts or dresses, preferring something she can move in freely over more traditionally feminine clothes.

The Suit

Maya's armor prototype design, though the actual design ended up being slightly less bulky, and the primary color being more of a crimson color instead of fuchsia. The idea still stands, though. The armor is thick enough to withstand modest punishment, but is also lightweight enough to allow Maya to maneuver pretty easily.

| BIO |

To speak about the story of Maya Kobayashi, one has to address the legacy of her family. Maya’s father, Tom Kobayashi, comes from a fairly humble background- his family were Japanese immigrants that arrived in San Francisco just prior to World War 2 and, despite being interned during the war, were able to find business success and rose to the middle class. One of their grandchildren and Maya’s father, Tom Kobayashi, ended up entering the film industry and has worked as an agent for several big-name stars. He lives a comfortable life, one where he gets the chance to travel a lot and make good money. Still, nothing too far out of the ordinary.

The truly legendary tale comes from Maya’s mother- Kanako Akuma, the eldest daughter of Ichiro Akuma, the heir to the Akuma clan. The Akuma clan is an immensely wealthy Japanese family of old money, their legacy dating back to feudal times, where the family served as a powerful daimyo, or feudal warlord, of a decent plot of Honshu. The Akuma clan was notoriously brutal, not hesitating to use torture and lethal force to achieve their goals. The slaughter of the Oshiro clan in the 16th century was especially disturbing, with the 7 men of the Akuma family sneaking onto their estate in the dead of night and murdering every single man, woman, and child on the premises. It was a horrific slaughter of an entire family, and these sins would come with a hefty price. A curse.

All 7 blades used in the Oshiro Massacre were possessed by oni spirits and cursed. Though the weapons were strengthened by magic beyond the comprehension of any blacksmith or weapon expert, if the owner ever committed an act of evil, with or without the blade, the demons that it held would be released and claim the wielder's life as well. 6 of the 7 men in the clan would soon meet that horrible fate. One fell on his sword, one drowned, one tortured by a rival warlord, one eaten by a pack of wolves, and the last two slain by each others' hands in a duel. The remaining patriarch of the family resolved to not fall victim to the curse, and so his blade was sealed in a crypt deep within the Akuma palace.

It laid there for centuries, as the Akuma family entered the banking industry, becoming a modestly powerful zaibatsu (a family-owned conglomerate) in the process. Still, the looming threat of the last cursed sword, named ブラッド・ムーン (Buraddo mūn), or "Blood Moon," lingered over the family. One wrong mistake, one irredeemable sin, and the demons held for centuries inside the blade could come for blood. As Ichiro Akuma, the modernt patriarch of the family, focused on running the family business, his daughter, Kanako, fell in love with an American man, Tom Kobayashi, and made plans to elope and move to America to start a family there. Ichiro would never have approved this marriage, but unfortunately, he had other more pressing concerns to worry about. It was discovered, only a day after Kanako announced her intentions to leave Tokyo, that the Akuma Banking Corporation had committed major fraud and had stolen millions of dollars from its customers, and just a week later, Ichiro Akuma was crushed in a brutal car accident. Kanako mourned the loss of her father, but this news meant that she could finally be with the one she loved.

The two lovebirds departed for New York, New York only a half a year after meeting, and Kanako quickly became pregnant with Maya. Maya immediately took after her father in many ways. She was lively, spunky, energetic, and bold. She did well in school, but her strong suit was athletics. She was the type of girl to play every sport in school, and excelled at them all. She ran in track, played volleyball, played softball, and dabbled in cross-country, but her passion was in martial arts. Maya was incredibly well-versed in aikido and also practiced other sports.

Simply put, Maya was really, really good at almost everything, and it never got to her head. Hah, just kidding, it definitely got to her head. Maya had, and still has, a very high opinion of herself. But Maya was never a bad person; on the contrary, Maya has always been incredibly genuine and protective. Very protective. She picked fights with bullies, drug dealers, criminals, anybody. Maya had a hot head and the skills to back it up. She got into trouble, enough trouble to get her yelled at and even suspended, but never enough trouble to stop her from her action.

By the time she was a junior in high school, Maya had it all; championships in martial arts, lots of friends, good enough grades; she was practically an all-American dream. Things changed when the strange, dapper Japanese man arrived at the door with a suitcase. As it had happened, Ichiro Akuma had left a will. THe piece of paper had remained hidden in his study for decades, sandwiched between a number of other legal documents, and stowed away in a cardboard box after his passing, only recently re-opened. In this will, he did something no Akuma had done for hundreds of years. In his spite for the daughter that ran away with the American, he had requested the cursed sword be moved from its resting place into the hands of his heiress, Kanako.

Kanako tried to get rid of the sword, but ancient curses don’t go away that easily. Every time she threw it in the trash or over a bridge or into a fire, the blade always returned, in perfect condition, to her mantelpiece. Eventually, Kanako accepted the burden of the cursed blade. She considered herself an upstanding citizen, after all. If her predecessors could stave off the curse for so long, surely she would have no problems.

What bothered Kanako was how interested her daughter was in the sword. Maya asked far too many questions about the funny blade on the mantelpiece. She even asked to take it to school one day, an offer that was firmly rejected, for good reason. What was far more disturbing than Maya’s interest in the sword, though, was the sword’s interest in her. Maya would sometimes find the sword in her backpack, or under her bed, or in her closet. It was almost like the sword was flirting with her. Getting into her mind. Soon, the sword did begin to speak with her, and Maya began to speak back. No, she isn't crazy (though she certainly thought herself to be at first). The demon within the sword, after being held in the vault for centuries, finally had the chance to hunt once again, and the demon saw something in Maya that it had never seen in generations of the Akuma family. A desire to be an avenger, an agent of peace. It was a perfect partnership, almost symbiotic. The demon held within the blade craved the blood of the guilty, and Maya desired to protect the innocent.

Maya's first foray into vigilantism was accidental. There was a robbery going on at a community bank that Maya had spotted walking home from school one day. The girl immediately ran over, drawing the sword that had conveniently manifested itself inside her backpack, and stepped into the building. Several armed career criminals versus one girl with a sword. Shouldn't have ended poorly for the crooks. but it did. They were cut down like trees, Blood Moon doing what it did best- spilling blood. It was a rush of adrenaline for Maya. She knew she was destined for bigger and better things. This was the start of something bigger and better.

She was taken to jail, of course, but she was hardly in the cell for an hour before she was picked up by Katana, a vigilante hero that Maya idolized. Maya adopted a suit of armor and a new persona as "Demonslayer." For a few months, she preyed on common criminals. Robbers, murderers, your usual street scum. Maya knew she was ready for more, though, and Katana agreed. Maya, or Demonslayer, had more than enough talent to be working on more than just street vigilantism, and some exposure to a team would likely work wonders for a girl that was definitely developing a bit of an ego.

No matter how powerful and scary the demons are, rest assured, Demonslayer will be there to cut them to ribbons.

| ABILITIES / SKILLS / EQUIPMENT |

Maya does not have any superpowers. However, that does not make Maya not super in many ways.

• Master of the Sword. Maya trained in swordsmanship in her aikido training, and since obtaining Blood Moon has had many lessons in bladed combat, under master duelists such as Katana and others. Maya is extremely proficient with a blade, and while her preferred weapon is Blood Moon, she is flexible as a duelist and can use other swords without any major drop-off in skill.
• Expert Martial Artist. If you asked Maya, she would tell you she could "kick Batman's ass." This is not true. However, it is fair to say that Maya is a very gifted hand-to-hand combatant. She has trained in martial arts for a long time and has a deep theoretical and practical understanding of combat. She can certainly hold her own in a fistfight, but her preference is to be armed.
• Expert Acrobat. Maya isn’t a trained acrobat and only briefly did gymnastics, but some training from Katana and a healthy dose of good instincts has made her very agile and comfortable in the air. Maya can twist, flip, and move about gracefully. She’s not superhuman in this respect, nor some sort of circus trapeze artist, but she’s definitely nimble enough to make the most use out of her swordsmanship, able to dash about and find exposed openings to strike at.
• First=Aid Knowledge Maya is by no means a nurse, but even before the whole vigilante phase set in, she was a certified lifeguard and familiar with CPR. She has since made sure to be versed in various methods of first aid, and while she is far from a healer, she can still help stem any sort of wounds and, at the very least, stave off any major consequences as a result.
• First-Aid Knowledge. Aside from English, Maya is fluent in Japanese, having been taught by her mom as an infant. She is also proficient in Spanish, though she is not a fluent speaker at all.

When it comes to strengths, though, Maya’s greatest strength easily lies in the ancestral blade she has forged a connection with: Blood Moon.

Blood Moon

B L O O D M O O N

Blood Moon is a katana and relic of the Akuma clan. It was forged by the legendary Japanese swordsmith Matsushita Sharaku specifically for the eldest Akuma leader, using only the finest metal and materials. While it is certainly a nice blade, the curse that it has been imbued with is what separates this from other regular swords.

• The Demon Within. Inside the blade of the sword is a demon that goes by the name Senshi. An oni that passed to the spirit realm, Senshi was given a new directive: curse the guilty and make them suffer. Senshi, while a less wicked demon, is still a demon, and has been more than happy to fulfill that purpose. While he has been forced to wait a while to get to taste the blood of the damned, his new wielder has given him more opportunities to do so than he has ever imagined. Senshi is capable of speaking from within the sword, and is also capable of teleporting the blade from place to place, though he can only do this once every hour or two. Senshi can also prevent others from wielding the blade, able to ignite the handle to be burning hot to the touch. He cannot stop the blade from being confiscated, however, at least until he can teleport away again.
• A Thousand Curses. Demons love their curses, and Senshi is no exception. Being cut by the blade of Blood Moon results in agonizing pain. Most people cannot withstand even the tiniest cut from Blood Moon and will immediately yield from the pain, though for many hardened villains, the curse of Blood Moon pales in comparison to what they've experienced in the past. The cuts from Blood Moon will also heal slower and get infected easier, and the scars that it leaves will never fade. Fabric or armor that is torn by the blade will strangely never be able to be stitched together, and any damage that is done can never be repaired. In short, Blood Moon has a creed of permanence, one that it enforces with every swing of the sword.
• Stronger, Faster, Better. The demonic presence of Senshi simply makes Blood Moon better than the rest. It is far more durable than other swords, slices easier, and feels lighter than other blades, meaning that Maya can use it more effectively than other swords and with less fatigue. Theoretically, according to Senshi, the blade is light enough that if swung fast enough can block bullets, though Maya, despite her skill in swordsmanship, is far from that feat as of yet.
• Trump Card. Blood Moon does hold one final secret, one Maya was told upon first inheriting the blade and one that she has held onto in the back of her mind just in case. If some calamity occurs and the situation seems dire, Maya can break the blade of Blood Moon and release Senshi from his centuries-old home. Senshi, being a powerful oni, is a capable fighter that could likely go toe-to-toe with even the most capable and famous heroes. The cost, however, is that for every second that Senshi is released onto the Earth, Maya will suffer the pain of all of the curses within the blade. The pain is likely to be unbearable and possibly even fatal, so Maya has been strongly against using Blood Moon in this way.

| LIMITATIONS AND WEAKNESSES |

• Only Human. Though at peak physical condition for her size and age, Maya is still only human, with no superhuman powers. She can't do anything beyond the grasps of her humanity.
• Pride Goeth Before A Fall. Maya has a bit of an ego. While not selfish, per se, Maya is definitely high-handed and has a lot of pride. Hitting at her pride is an easy way to draw Maya into an easy trap. She will blindly move to defend her own reputation (and the reputation of her friends, but most importantly her own) without thinking of the consequences.
• One Blade, One Creed. Maya is somewhat reliant on the use of Blood Moon. She can use other swords, but the difference in weight and practicality would require some time to get used to. Maya also can't shoot a gun to save her life and isn't much good with most other weapons. As such, if one can separate Maya from Blood Moon, she becomes a much easier target than if she is armed.
• Curse Of The Akuma Clan. While Senshi and Maya have a "good" relationship, so to speak, the curse that has always applied to the Akuma clan still applies to Maya. Committing any bad act- or framing Maya into committing a bad act- is a surefire way of turning the demon in the sword against her.

| NOTES |

• Maya's favorite animal is the horse. While never an equestrian person herself, she has always loved horses. Then again, it's not like there are people out there that don't like horses, right? Horses are awesome. If she was pressed to choose a second-favorite animal, it would be the dog. After that, it's a bit of a jumbled list. Truth be told, Maya loves all animals.
• Maya is an incredibly bad chef. The last time Maya tried to cook, it resulted in a fire that was thankfully put out with a fire extinguisher. Worst of all, she was just making eggs.
• Maya has crippling astraphobia, or a fear of thunder and lightning. Of course, nobody except her parents know that she curls up in bed sobbing during thunderstorms. Nor would she ever, ever tell anybody. This is an exceptional piece of blackmail.
• Maya is openly bisexual, having gone out in high school with both guys and girls. Maya has never been an extremely affectionate or romantic type, though, and relationships with her haven't always lasted long.
• Maya is notoriously a very sore loser, and has thrown temper tantrums over defeats. Fortunately, Maya doesn't lose too often at most athletic endeavors, but she has normally been competing against average shmucks and not a conglomeration of aliens, robots, metahumans, and Batfamily members. She might be in for a rude awakening upon joining Young Justice.

Young Justice

Yes we're definitely still accepting!
Welcome and thanks for showing interest ^.^
The applications and free spots ratio is pretty steep though. We're looking at two open spots and about six applicants so far, not including yours.
Just let to you know, it's not to discourage you.

@dreamingflowers

well now I have to apply just to prove I can be the RP CHAMPIONNNNN

Neato! Not going to hard commit, but I'm certainly interested, so I'll DM you what I have when I have it.

Young Justice

Heard through the grapevine that this was a fun RP. If you guys are still accepting I'd be interested in writing an application, perhaps.

《 H.E.R.O. 2064 》

_{September 21st, 2064
Aboard N-Train
Brookside, South Castle Island}

Sonic blasts, at the right amplitude and aimed at the right place, could easily be lethal. If not resulting in casualties, sonic blasts were more than strong enough to snap bones as if they were balsa wood. Miles wasn't sure exactly how much damage had been done by the pirate, but it was pretty bad. Miles felt a wave of intense pain shoot through his body as he fell to the ground, body slumped against the wall, a few droplets of blood trickling from his lip. His right hand felt around his jacket as the man aimed the sonic blaster at him again. Though Miles was in pain, he was not in fear, as he had noticed the door to the traincar had opened, something the pirate clearly did not. Miles instead just closed his eyes as he heard a very loud crack, and when he re-opened them, he saw the armored man lying in a heap on top of his buddy.

The young hero gave a weak smile. "Th-that was pretty sick," Miles expressed fondly as he continued to pat his coat, eventually finding what he was looking for and removing it- a clear cylinder, about as long and somewhat thinner than a soda can, full of some sort of red liquid. Miles avoided Sophia's eye contact sheepishly. "Y-you might f-find this weird. Err, you c-can look away," Miles said with a tinge of red flooding his cheeks for the who knows time that afternoon, before pressing the cylinder to his lips and drinking the substance. If the sight wasn't disturbing, the clacking sound of bones welding themselves back together, would most certainly be enough to bother those that were not blessed with a particularly strong stomach. Miles' veins and eyes emitted a faint crimson glow. The vampiric teenager stood, stretching his arms. "Thanks for the hand, Soph," Miles quipped with more confidence now as he scooped up the downed pirate's sonic blaster, aiming it at the door. "Oh, and cover your ears," he added before firing a powerful blast at the door to the train's cab, knocking the door right off its hinges. Two pirates immediately rushed to see what the commotion was about, but they were promptly dispatched with another sonic blast that caused them to howl, clutch their ears, and topple over at Miles' feet.

"Looks like the conductor's down. Maybe you could amplify him or something?" Miles noted, his voice sounding more like Harrison Ford and less like Porky Pig as he stepped over the downed guards and entered the cab. Indeed, the conductor was also sprawled on the ground, his body occasionally twitching to show that he was not gone, just likely electrocuted very, very badly. Miles made his way over to the dashboard, running his fingers over the holographic keys. "Good news, still getting a read on the bomb, which means that whoever's defending it is doing a pretty good job. Sent out an alert to Assistant Director Blum, the police, and the ATF, so I think that means we're in the clear. Nice defense work." Miles propped himself up onto the table, running a hand through his coal-black hair and facing towards Sophia, presenting himself with a swagger that was simply not there before. Whatever was in that cylinder (hint: it was blood) had clearly caused some sort of change. Most likely temporary, but a change nonetheless.

"So, about those tapes," the pale youth said with a confident smirk. "I'd love to stop by and watch them. Maybe we could get a bite to eat, too? There's a new Fogo de Chão opened in New Athens, heard they have drones that zoom around with the meat skewers. Sounds sick," Miles proposed. "How does that sound?"

The extra dose of blood in Miles' system almost functioned as alcohol, inhibiting what would have been a wall of shame that would have prevented the offer from even coming from his mouth. However, blood did not grant Miles 360-degree vision, and with Miles facing inwards towards Sophia instead of outwards towards the window, he could not see that there was a woman standing on the tracks. The woman was massive (Miles would guess a few inches taller than himself), with coal-black skin, a muscular frame, cropped dark hair, and a huge silver prosthetic in place of her right arm. This woman was Commander Angela Woods, also known as Lightning Rod, a mercenary with the power to fire powerful bolts of lightning through her robot arm and a second-in-command to the Captain, Sam Everett. Miles also could not see that this woman was pointing her robot arm, which was equipped with a powerful cannon function, directly at the back of Miles' head, a thin blue laser reflecting through the traincar window's glass and lining up with the teenage hero's skull.

Meanwhile, inside the train car that the heroes were supposed to protect, an entire siege was underway. Shrieking blasts of sound resonated through the car as the soldiers fired, but a few of the pirates were incapacitated. One of them was smacked upside the head with a baseball bat and crashed into another, one was hit in the guts with a blast of ice and toppled to the ground, another was stuck inside the ceiling, and another pirate, very embarrassingly, had collapsed after having an allergic reaction to one of the chemicals in the vape smoke still lingering in the car. Despite their experience, the men were losing. Not only losing, but losing badly.

The sound of a chainsaw revving would quickly restore the morale to the remaining pirates.

A blue blade of energy slashed through the wall of the traincar, cutting a huge circle into the side of the car. When the new opening fell, standing there was a burly man wearing a shoddy leather mask and holding an energy chainsaw. One of the other Commanders of the Rocketeers, Sawyer Briggs, a.k.a. "Chainsawyer." Chainsawyer had gone on a killing spree back in the 40s before being caught, but the Rocketeers destroyed his prison transport vehicle, and inducted him into their cause. Chainsawyer is well-known in the criminal underworld for being absolute and totally insane.

Chainsawyer swung his laser-edge chainsaw behind him, cutting the coupling behind him and causing the caboose of the train holding the weapon to lurch away from the rest of the car. The deranged man revved up his chainsaw, looking at the four heroes onboard as he revved the blade. "It's time for some fun."

With that, Chainsawyer lurched forwards, swinging his dangerous lumber-cutting weapon around the room wildly. The tip of the blade caught Viper and sent a smattering of blood and guts across the inside of the car. The maniac turned before rushing directly at Marcie, chainsaw at the ready, with no qualms as to who his next victim was and in how many pieces they ended up in.

---

---

_{September 21st, 2064
Academy of Young Heroes
Lighthouse Island, Castleburg}

The ringleader of the group, Ricky, the redhead (or alternatively, the one that was smoking profusely) made a face. "Too many questions. Seriously. I mean, did we kill people? Hell no. We don't do that shit. Did we get away with stuff? I mean, if I told you, I'd have to kill you," Ricky added with a smarmy smirk. "We've already discussed this, though, and we're not gonna be, like, goody two-shoes or anything. Superheroes are lame. You guys are getting schooled by robot cops. I mean, that's kinda embarassing right?" Ricky laughed as the rest of the kids murmured in ascent.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and Principal Lee stepped in for a moment. "I see you guys are already getting along! Isn't that just lovely? Anyway, why don't you guys head out to the yard? You can use all the equipment to show them how to use their powers for good! Plus, there's a bouncy castle out there! It was for another student whose power is jumping, but if there's one thing I love, it's multi-use items! That, and English literature, but I gave up those dreams a while ago." As Mrs. Lee spoke, she quite stealthily passed a piece of paper to the person nearest to her, which happened to be Lucas. The scrap of paper read:

planning 'fake' villain attack. show them how exciting superheroes can be. try not to do too much damage. pass it on.

Principal B. Lee

Principal Lee smiled warmly and handed Rory (like all teachers, she quickly picked favorites) the cell key, before turning to Jeremy. "Mr. Lindall, can I borrow you for a moment?" Principal Lee then walked off, leaving the rest of the kids to go play with their superpowers in the yard before guiding Jeremy off in a separate direction.

---

The yard was an excellent place to test powers out. A large open area in the courtyard of the building, with all sorts of small things set up. Obstacle courses, target practice, all sorts of things were spread out on the grassy area. On the rooftop of the building, a few individuals in fake SWAT armor examined the yard. They were masquerading as abductors as part of the plot to turn the kids over to the side of good, though in reality, they were part of a much more sadistic and evil occupation- orchestra teachers. Unfortunately, the Academy's funding for the arts leaves much to be desired, so the orchestra teachers were helping out for an extra check bonus tacked onto their salary for being human punching bags for these superhuman teenagers. It was like proctoring the SATs, except less painful.

Luckily there were no actual threats on the island, though, right?

---

Meanwhile, Principal Lee guided the older teacher in the opposite direction, back where they came from, towards the front of the school. As she walked briskly, she spoke a bit more casually, though it was clear that she was still quite stressed. "I hope you found your...I guess we can call it a sabbatical? Your sabbatical enjoyable. Or at least, you accomplished what you set out to do. We're glad to have you back, either way." Barbara gave a shaky, stressed smile as she opened the front doors of the building. "Anyway, somebody heard you were back and wanted to meet you."

Barbara stepped out onto the front lawn. There, in the late summer sky, an object was speeding towards the Academy; in fact, it was heading directly towards Jeremy. It was seeming more and more like the worst assassination attempt ever until the object swirled around midair and landed on the ground elegantly, revealing itself to be not an object, but a person, albeit one that was heavily armored with what appeared to be large black crystals welded together by some sort of purple energy. These strange crystals covered the entirety of the mystery person's body, including their head, with the crystals forming a strange, dragon-like mask. The mystery person glared directly at Jeremy for a few moments before snapping their fingers, and as if by magic, the crystals split apart and crumbled off the person's body. As the crystals fell, they shifted into each other and compacted into a small cube of black crystals, revealing the person beneath the armor as a slender young woman in her early 20s, wearing a dark bodysuit. She had bushy mahogany-brown hair, pointed Asiatic features, green eyes, and a healthy smattering of freckles.

Anybody in Castleburg that didn't know who this girl was had either been living under a rock for the past year or was on some sort of crazy adventure, as the biracial young lady was none other than Cloudrunner, the famed S-tier superhero, world-class telekinetic, and one-half of the famous Hero Twins alongside her partner Dimension. To those that knew her, though, she was just Jenna Rees, the daughter of two well-known superheroes, a prodigal pianist, polyglot, and all-around nerd.

She was also a hugger, which was evidenced by the fact that as soon as the armor had escaped her person, she engulfed the older man in a hug. "Mr. Lindall! It's been forever! How are you? Oh, Mom and Dad said hi, by the wall. Charlie also told me to say hi, but he's...well, you know what he's like. I heard you were back from your trip and I had to come to say hello! How have you been? What was it like? Where did you go? I have a lot of questions. But I'm so glad you're back safe and sound!"