Avatar of Lord Wraith

Status

Recent Statuses

3 mos ago
Current But can the Ghost Note see why kids love the great taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch?
2 likes
4 mos ago
Have you tried finding the Avatar?
9 likes
5 mos ago
When you manage to snag post 69 in the IC. Nice.
7 likes
5 mos ago
When a group of players click and the posts keep roling in, that's what GM dreams are made of.
9 likes
6 mos ago
We're roleplayers, of course we're going to make a third option the GM didn't present.
2 likes

Bio

L O R D W R A I T H
L O R D W R A I T H

"TBD"
U S E R P O R T R A I T
U S E R P O R T R A I T
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U S E R S U M M A R Y
U S E R S U M M A R Y
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Lord Wraith
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February 21st | 31 | Caucasian
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Married | | Heterosexual
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Ontario | Canada

P R E F E R E N C E S
P R E F E R E N C E S
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C U R R E N T R O L E P L A Y S
C U R R E N T R O L E P L A Y S
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A B O U T M E
A B O U T M E
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All systems go. Back to writing.

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Most Recent Posts

Limbo:

Limbo, or Purgatory exists as more than just a plane between life and death but rather as a bridge between the worlds of the Mundane and Ünterland. A hostile plane, host to lost souls and the Hellions that feed upon them, Limbo is known as the home of the damned. Originally a plane of traversal between realms, Limbo was transformed into a prison by the Venari Council to aid their Jäger in their mission better against Hellions and other Magni.

Due to the meddling of the Venari, Limbo exists as a barrier, not only to keep Hellions and the Magni native to Ünterland from crossing over but also to keep the Mundane and the Hyperhumans from entering. As such, it exists as an aid to the Venari's definition of the natural order, an attempt to maintain balance between the Mundane and Ünterland. When a Magni crosses over from Ünterland to the world of the Mundane, Limbo often attempts to strip them of their extra seele. For Hyperhumans however, Limbo attempts to separate their Einseele, often shattering it upon entering to Ünterland.

Despite acting as a prison for all manner of Hellions, Limbo is not impenetrable and at times Limbo opens, allowing passage where Hellions can escape to either realm. Other times Limbo causes the two realms to overlap and merge, creating a conjunction which allows for travel and a temporary merger of the two planes.

The living can not remain in Limbo for an extended period, and those that do find their bodies rapidly aging before turning to decay. For this reason, it is understood that Limbo exists outside the normal passage of time making it particularly useful to Jäger who are walking the Path. With experience, one can use Limbo to cross the world in an instant or even defy the natural flow of time.

Jäger are marked by the blood of Samael's Chosen. This blood is inscribed on their skin in the form of a protection rune that imparts them safe passage through Limbo. Other forms of protection exist, but are highly frowned upon and especially draw the ire of the Venari Council whom will send a Jäger for anyone defying their order.
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Location: The Northern Forest - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
Take On Me #3.004: Monster
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Interaction(s): None
Previously: I Want More

Brush and leaves snapped beneath Lorcán’s feet while his flip-flops slapped along the forest floor. Rothschild had landed upon entering the thicket, opting to run along the ground beneath the overgrowth rather than try to navigate the reaching branches that were twisted together. A shimmer of pale white in the distance was all the encouragement that Lorcán needed while he kept moving forward.

The North Western tip of Dundas Island was generally left alone by the school, its faculty and students alike. Pacific Royal had no buildings or structures out this direction, partly due to the nearing proximity to the former Black Site on the neighbouring Zayas Island.

The forest on the Eastern side of the island and towards the center of Dundas was vibrantly green, inviting and warm, like something out of a fairy tale, it beckoned students forth to climb her trees and sit under her branches. But here, the forest was almost cold, the sun barely able to penetrate the thick canopy overhead leaving the ground covered in damp and dead leaves that squished under feet while small trees struggled to grow. Stumps gnawed down by local wildlife dotted the various clearings while branches were snapped from trunks. Scratches covered the bark, and the deeper into the untravelled forest he went, the more Lorcán noticed buzzing hives decorating the higher branches.

A sticky combination of sap and a putrid form of honey from the hives dripped down the trees attracting the occasional fly and trapping the oblivious insects in the amber substance. Spider webs filled the nearby branches, the lazy predators taking advantage of the unintentional bait left by the hives hidden amongst the gaunt, finger-like branches reaching down from above.

Beside Lorcán, Rothschild dropped low to the ground, the border collie adopting a stalking position. The dog’s hackles rose rigidly like a dorsal fin. His nose began to sniff rapidly, his lip curling upwards, exposing his long, curved canines while Rothschild’s caramel-coloured eyes started to glow like a macabre sunset.

Gone were the glimpses of snow-white fur, and the subtle glow of the stag. Instead, Lorcán felt trapped by a creeping darkness, like something was clawing at his soul, desperate to drag him through the forest floor. Branches seemingly snapped in all directions and for the first time, Lorcán’s eyes were drawing to the thick vines that snaked along the forest’s floor and wrapped around the creaking trees.

Rothschild barked suddenly, a growl filling the throat of the dog. The nose echoed through the trees but not a single creature stirred. The forest had fallen into an unnatural hush the further the pair had travelled into it. Even the insects above had stopped buzzing, retreating to their hives as the shadows seemed to grow darker and darker.

♫ ♫ If you like Piña Coladas! And getting caught in the rain! ♫ ♫

Lorcán nearly jumped out of his skin as the music started to ring from his pocket. He almost forgot he grabbed his phone while chasing after Rothschild. The dog in question let out a quick bark as if to scold Lorcán who scrambled to dig the device out of his pocket.

♫ ♫ If you’re not into yoga! If you’ve got half a brain! ♫ ♫

Finally getting the device out, Lorcán quickly ran his thumb over the screen before holding the device up to his chin on speaker.

“Hel-”

“You didn’t ask Aurora to the dance!” A voice belonging to none other than his cousin, Ripley Jones screamed from the other side of the phone.

“Brah,” Lorcán replied, his heart still racing, “She told the bro she didn’t want to go with anyone, I’m trying to respect that.” He answered, “Besides, I told her I wanted to take her and she didn’t say anything, so I let the tide take it back out to sea.”

“You’re a moron.” Ripley deadpanned, “If she didn’t answer you, you didn’t ask it correctly and knowing you, you probably danced around it and then said something in your bro speak that only Rory would understand! So unless you’re planning on taking Rory to the dance, I suggest you spit it out in English!”

“Lady Dude knows how I feel about her, we don’t need to make a big deal of going together” He argued, his eyes still watching the treeline while Ripley’s voice echoed through the deadened woods. “She’ll save me a dance,”

“Yeah, she’d save you a dance on her wedding day too,” Ripley snapped back, “Doesn’t mean you get the girl! If you ever want Aurora to be more than a friend, then you need to COM-MUN-I-CATE!”

Rothschild yipped beside Lorcán seemingly in agreement with Ripley, prompting a raised eyebrow from the young man. He shook his head, nearly rolling his eyes as his little cousin berated him for his inability to tell Aurora how he felt. But didn't he? That night before the trial, in the tent? In a guilt-driven state, did he not lay his cards bare on the table and Aurora basically had picked up the deck and put it away. She either didn’t share his feelings or didn’t want to acknowledge them, neither boded well with asking her to dance, let alone anything more than that.

Lorcan’s thoughts were brought back to his surroundings as his phone suddenly vibrated, the ongoing call temporarily covered by text from Cass.

CASSANDER CHARON SAID: C’mon man, srsly? Rippers said you still haven’t asked Rora to the dance?!?!?
“Really?” Lorcán interrupted Ripley as he read the message, “You brought Cass into this?”

“I did!” Ripley retorted proudly, “Figured if both of us are, then you’ll fix this, Leo!”

“Don’t you have class?”

“This is more important, I like Aurora, don’t mess this up!”

“I obviously like her too!” Lorcán snapped back before the call suddenly dropped. He looked at his phone with a furrowed brow before out of the corner of his eye watching Rothschild’s hackles rise again.

The ground beneath his feet suddenly shook as the canopy above began to sway. Rothschild alternated between barking and growling, slowly rising up into the air, his eyes glowing a defiant crimson.

A roar echoed through the words in response and Lorcán was suddenly tossed across the clearing.
For the Episode 2 Awards, we reduced the number of categories just because of the episode's speed and as it's only been a month since the last awards. Which are both great problems to have, that's a phenomenal pace! Pat yourselves on the back. As with before, please send your votes to Roman and I, either through a PM on the Guild or through a DM on Discord. The categories this time around are as follows:



E P I S O D E T W O A W A R D S:
Best Character Development:


GM's Choice
N A M E

@Username

Player's Choice
N A M E

@Username
__________________________
GM's Choice: Character Name - @Username
Player's Choice: Character Name - @Username

The 'Best Character Development Award' is given to the character who has been constantly improving and developing from the moment they first appeared in the IC. This doesn't mean the most improved, nor does it have to be positive changes in the slightest, this is the character journey you're enjoying the most whether it's a slippery slope or an uphill battle.

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Honorable Mentions:
Wraith's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Roman's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Best Character Dynamic/Ship:


GM's Choice
N A M E

@Username

Player's Choice
N A M E

@Username
__________________________
GM's Choice: Character Name - @Username
Player's Choice: Character Name - @Username

The 'Best Character Dynamic/Ship Award' is given to a pair or group of characters who display exceptional chemistry, and compatibility. They are who you genuinely sit there and cheer whenever they're on the page together. These two characters are each other's endgame, they're ride or die and you can't get enough of their highs, lows and otherwise cutesy antics. This is not limited exclusively to romance but extends to rivalries, platonic friendships and even a sibling-like relationship.

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Honorable Mentions:
Wraith's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Roman's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Best Post:


GM's Choice
N A M E

@Username

Player's Choice
N A M E

@Username
__________________________
GM's Choice: Character Name - @Username
Player's Choice: Character Name - @Username

The 'Best Post' is given to the player and post that was found to be overall the pinnacle of the current episode. Did it break the tension with its humourous antics at the right time? Did it bring the characters closer together? Was it full of insightful reflection or did it extrapolate on previously unknown elements of that character's backstory and how it ties to the greater overarching narrative?

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Honorable Mentions:
Wraith's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Roman's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Best Flashback:


GM's Choice
N A M E

@Username

Player's Choice
N A M E

@Username
__________________________
GM's Choice: Character Name - @Username
Player's Choice: Character Name - @Username

The 'Best Flashback Award' is given to the post and player that contains an insightful or impactful flashback to a previous time outside of the current happenings of the IC. Maybe this flashback shed light on why the character has a deep-rooted fear of rejection, maybe it illuminated why that character has a verbal tic or perhaps it was the meet-cute of two budding lovers. Whatever the contents, this flashback found its way into the hearts or minds of the readers and continues to leave a lasting impact.

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Honorable Mentions:
Wraith's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Roman's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Best Collaboration:


GM's Choice
N A M E

@Username

Player's Choice
N A M E

@Username
__________________________
GM's Choice: Character Name - @Username
Player's Choice: Character Name - @Username

The 'Best Collaboration Award' is given to the post and players involved in crafting a collaborative narrative that goes beyond the regular back-and-forth posting of forum RPing. A well-crafted collaborative post should read as though it has a single author but artfully capture the interaction between two player characters and enhance both of their direct narratives, developments and the long-term relationships between those involved in the collaboration.

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Honorable Mentions:
Wraith's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Roman's Choice: Character Name - @Username

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Most Memorable Moment:


GM's Choice
N A M E

@Username

Player's Choice
N A M E

@Username
__________________________
GM's Choice: Character Name - @Username
Player's Choice: Character Name - @Username

The 'Most Memorable Moment Award' is given to the post and players who set a fire in the social server with conversation, reactions and just generally put the dominos in motion with a post that did something so well, horrific or even just meme-worthy that it inspired numerous posts after it. This is a moment that stood out, when you think of this roleplay, this is the moment you keep coming back to. When share the game with your friends, this is the post you wait eagerly for them to read.

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Honorable Mentions:
Wraith's Choice: Character Name - @Username

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.
Roman's Choice: Character Name - @Username

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.
| Three Days Ago
Exiting the bathroom, Lorcán nodded a goodnight to Rory before venturing from their dorm’s shared common room into his bedroom. He paused, catching sight of himself in the mirror while removing his athletic uniform, the contrast of the white gauze against his tanned skin drawing the eye. His hand absently moved over his chest before rising up to his face. Molten eyes stared back at him, that cruel sneer haunting him as Lorcán quickly shut his eyes and pulled away.

Raze wasn't real, and he wasn't Raze.

Changing into a new pair of boxers for the night, he pulled back the covers of his bed, pausing to look at a photo of Blackjack. It was one taken at the end of last year, when Mei and Pallyx were still part of the team. Amma, Gil and Harper had all been newcomers last year and now Gil was fighting for his life in the infirmary.

Sleep was honestly the last thing on Lorcán’s mind, but at this moment it felt like the only option he had to make the time pass. His thumb hovered over Aurora's smiling face, a saddened smile forming on his own lips.

She got hurt today because he wasn't strong enough or fast enough. If he could have melted that door or even reverse engineered it faster she wouldn't have been put in harm’s way. A growl formed in his throat and Lorcán suddenly grabbed a nearby trophy and whipped it across the room.

No one should have been hurt.

At times, he had found himself almost sympathetic to Hyperion's mission, but after today, after senseless Hyperhuman on Hyperhuman violence, there was no way Lorcán could reconcile their mission with their behaviour.

Aurora had been staring at her phone for the better part of an hour.

She’d been back in her dorm for a while after getting assessed at the infirmary, where upon checking her over they confirmed she was indeed concussed. It was minor enough that they simply cleared her to go rest, but still was told to take it easy for the next while. That meant no running for the following few days and especially meant not overexerting her abilities - no teleporting excessively.

After showering and getting into her pajamas, the redhead was having a hard time turning off her mind as she lay on top of her bed. Everytime she tried to close her eyes, she found herself back in the simulation, whether it be face to face with her stepfather or watching her teammates abandon her. Over and over again she re-lived it, and she had no doubt that she would continue to do so for weeks to come.

She didn’t want to be alone tonight.

Which is why she had been hemming and hawing about picking up her phone and calling Lorcán for what seemed like an eternity. She knew he was injured too; he’d arguably gone through a more grueling scenario physically and needed his rest. But with how close they were, something told her he’d be more upset if she didn’t go to him when she needed him.

So she called him.

The phone rang once, twice, before he answered.

“Sorry, hopefully I didn’t wake you up.” Aurora hesitated, but proceeded. “But can I… come over? Would that be okay?”

“Shoots, Lady Dude” Lorcán replied, “I wasn’t going to catch any shut eye tonight. I’ll unlock the door for you.” He stated, walking towards the door.

But Aurora suddenly appeared in his room causing Lorcán to furl his brow slightly.

“Rora, you’re not supposed to be ‘porting.” He scolded slightly, immediately pivoting his body to turn the scarred side of his face away from her.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” The redhead subtly leaned against his desk to stabilize herself and waited for the dizziness to subside, not wanting to admit that he was probably right and shouldn’t have used her abilities. “It was either that or attempt to get past my roommates and fail miserably.” She sighed, “They’ve been coddling me since I got back from the infirmary. I’m practically on house arrest.”

Aurora noticed how Lorcán had shifted, saw how he tensed as he hid his wounded face. She frowned, “You don’t have to do that, you know.” She stood up straight, taking a step towards him, “It’s not like I wasn’t there before they put the dressing over it.”

In her arms, she held his red Canis sweatshirt, the one she had technically stolen from the night before. She extended it towards him with an apologetic smile. “They threw this in with my stuff when they brought me my things from the tent. Figured you might want it back.”

Out of the corner of her periphery, she saw the light catch something on the ground, and her gaze fell to the broken trophy, recognizing that he had likely thrown it. Without saying a word, she set the sweatshirt on his chair and leaned down and grabbed the pieces it had split into, placing them on his desk.

She knew he was still upset about how things had gone down during the Trial; he blamed himself for what had happened and she didn’t understand why. Choosing to not mention it, she continued her previous thought. “Sorry again for taking it. When I went outside to get some air last night, it was a little chilly. Didn’t want to make too much noise and it was the closest thing.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Lorcán smiled briefly, “Possession is only like temporary, it was mine until you needed it and then it totally became yours and now it's mine again,” He explained, “But it's totally always there for you if you need or even like want it again.”

He chuckled slightly, “I guess I should totally keep my voice down so my bro, Rory, doesn't get like the wrong idea about you being in here, Lady Dude.”

Her bruises had begun to form, the colour changing slowly becoming more and more evident. Seeing them left Lorcán’s stomach in knots. He flinched again at the memory of her face being slammed against the window, the sound it had made echoing through his mind.

“I wish I could understand why the Trial was tampered with, were we targeted? Are we just doomed to hurt each other?” He asked, though not necessarily expecting an answer as he invited Aurora to take a seat beside him on the bed. “It doesn't seem to matter if it’s H.E.L.P. versus Hyperion or the Foundation versus Pacific Royal, we keep being pulled into the line of fire.”

He shook his head.

“Hyperhumans face enough adversity without fighting each other and yet we keep choosing to fight one another.” He let out an agitated sigh.

“Sorry, I’m ranting but I’m just feeling like I’m caught in a riptide.”

A blush pricked Aurora’s cheeks as Lorcán mentioned lowering his voice, not having even considered the implications of her being in his room at such an hour. To her, it just felt natural to go to him when she was needing comfort, no matter when it was or where they were. She sat down beside him on his bed, letting her legs dangle off the side.

“I know, Lorcán, I don’t understand it either.” She tried to reassure him, not minding his rambling in the slightest as it took the weight off of her own inner monologue. Her lips settled into a fine line and she looked up at him, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “The world already hates us, it will never make sense to me why we continue to find ourselves pitted against our own kind.”

“Today was scary. Really scary. But we’ll get through it, just like we always have. We’ll be okay.” The redhead said, reminding him but also reminding herself.

“But what will the cost be next time?” Lorcán asked, his tone low.

“I could have lost you today, that clucks me, like more than anything else, more than anything ever has.” He paused, taking a moment to swallow, “That’s what I keep seeing over in my head. Everything I went through in there was focused on getting you back,”

He shook his head, “This is supposed to be the safest place on Earth for Hyperhumans, but that makes it a magnet for trouble. Days like this, I just want to take you by the hand and disappear into the sunset, we could go our own way.”

“And what if we did that? What if we left right now, packed our bags and hopped on the next ferry. Would it change anything?” Aurora let her question hang in the air for a moment, looking deeply into Lorcán’s eyes before continuing. “If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that bad things can happen wherever you are. It’s not something we can control by leaving.”

She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I know you want to protect me and I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means that you stopped at nothing to find me today.” The redhead felt a flutter in her chest at the thought of him going through hell and back during the Trial just looking for her. “But it doesn’t matter if we’re here or halfway across the world. Hell, Lorcán, some of the worst things that have happened to me happened in my own house.” She stated bluntly.

He knew she was right, as he hung his head in defeat. Running a hand through his hair, he looked up at the ceiling and then back at Aurora.

“I’m not used to feeling,” He waved both of his hands in front of his chest, “All of this,” He caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror, a mirthless chuckle escaping his sore chest.

“I’m usually the one making everyone laugh,” He rolled his eyes, “And here I am ruining the mood more than ankle slappers on a balmy dawn.” Lorcán reached into his bedside table, producing a bag of red licorice before extending it towards Aurora,

“I read somewhere once that sugar helps with shock,” He explained, “Plus, I don’t think there's a problem on Earth that can't be made better with something sweet.”

The redhead smirked, gladly taking a strand of licorice from the bag. She was never one to say no to candy, especially given the day they’d had. She held the piece to her lips but hesitated, moving her hand back down to her lap for a moment to impart another thought. “I know you always like to be the one lifting everyone else up, making people happy, but it’s okay to put yourself and your emotions first sometimes.” Without elaborating further, not wanting to dwell, she took a bite of licorice, letting the sweet strawberry flavor coat her taste buds.

“New topic,” Lorcán smiled, pulling two pieces out for himself before placing the bag between them. “Did I seriously see Hyperman and Daytripper on campus?” He asked, the familiar amused grin returning to his face.

“What's up with those kook outfits? I mean, with that red coat, Hyperman may as well be wearing a cape. And then there's Daytripper’s mustache,” He shook his head before reaching for another piece of candy. “Pretty glad H.E.L.P. agents don't dress like that.”

Aurora laughed, although the speed in which Lorcán changed the subject was only slightly concerning. She pocketed that thought to mull over later. “It’s called fashion, look it up.” She playfully nudged him before taking another strand from the bag. “Hey, they can wear whatever they want, I heard they saved a lot of people today, including Jim and Tad.”

She said his name without even thinking, but her thoughts now were directed towards their advisor who was in critical condition. Her face fell once more, it seemed they couldn’t avoid touchy subjects even if they tried. “I hope he’ll be okay.”

“Tad survived Hyperion,” Lorcán replied somberly, “He’s a survivor, Jim will make sure he gets the best care possible.” He shuffled awkwardly on the bed, “I’m worried about Jess though, if anything happens to Tad I’m not sure what she’ll do. Not sure what I would have done if anything had happened to you. No pain worse than losing someone you love.”

The redhead nodded, although found herself stuck on his words.

Someone you love.

She knew that Lorcán cared about her a lot and she herself cared about him significantly. They were best friends, of course they cared about each other. But for him to describe that as love cut deep.

Because simply put, Aurora couldn’t remember what love truly felt like.

It was very possible it was this feeling, but doubt pulled in her gut. How could someone like him love her? Setting down her half eaten strand of licorice, she looked at Lorcán with a sad smile. “Jess is strong and we’ll all be there to support her, whatever happens.” She held out the candy to him, offering it up. “I probably shouldn’t have more sugar before bed, seems counterproductive to my already terrible sleeping habits.”

A smile of amusement spread across Lorcán’s face as he reached across the bed and snatched up the half eaten piece before devouring it and putting the rest back in their hiding spot.

“Speaking of bed, do you need anything?” He asked, standing up and stripping his shirt off, wincing as it caught on the bandages on his back. He paused as he brought the shirt over his head.

“Oh wait, would you prefer I wear a shirt? I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression, I can totally suck it up for one night.” He added.

Aurora did a double take, processing his words and actions after the fact. “Wait,” She looked almost confused, her brow raised.

“I can stay?”

“Duh,” Lorcán replied with a grin, “Best place for you is here.”

The redhead let her perplexed expression melt into a grateful smile. She’d imagined that this conversation would be terribly awkward, that asking if she could spend the night since she was so afraid of being alone with her thoughts would have been met with at least some hesitation. But Lorcán’s response, and the fact that he had simply assumed she would be staying, was all the more reason that she felt so fortunate to have him.

“It’s up to you, whatever is more comfortable with the bandages.” Aurora indicated, “Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

He reached around her, grabbing some pillows from the bed only now drawing Aurora's eyes to the large pile of pillows that Lorcán apparently was stockpiling.

“Choka, Lady Dude,” He replied, “Bed is yours, floor is all I need tonight.”

Aurora raised her eyebrows before shaking her head, clearly in disagreement. “Yeah, no, I’m not letting you do that.” She swung her legs up onto his bed, moving to the far side of the mattress and patting the ample remaining space. She knew Lorcán was just trying to be nice and gentlemanly, but that simply wasn’t going to fly tonight. “There’s plenty of room. Besides, you’re gonna aggravate your injuries if you sleep on the floor.”

“Either we share the bed or I’m teleporting back to my dorm.”

“You’re not allowed to teleport,” Lorcán repeated, taking one look at Aurora's expression and relenting. He put his pillows back on the bed and climbed up beside her, before hanging one leg over the side and keeping a foot in contact with the floor.

“Fine, Lady Dude, you win.” He said with his arms raised slightly, “I’m in the bed,” Lorcán teased before wiggling his way further into the mattress and stacking two pillows under his head.

Aurora smirked, satisfied with her small victory, and slipped under the covers, her copper locks fanning out behind her as she laid back. She instantly relaxed as she inhaled citrus and smoke, recognizing that Lorcán’s bed sheets smelled just like him. Her coy expression turned into a genuine smile. “Thank you.” She spoke softly, conveying her appreciation to him for letting her stay. Her eyelids grew heavier, exhaustion beginning to tug them down. Finally not on high alert, finding peace in his presence.

He laid back, his nostrils taking in her sweet aroma while Lorcán folded his hands together over his stomach, staring up at the ceiling above him. His tense body language might have given the wrong impression, but he loved that Aurora was next to him. He just never imagined that this would be the situation that led to her sleeping in his bed.

Lorcán had at least wanted to make her dinner first.

In contrast, the redhead drifted off quickly, indicated by the steady ride and fall of her chest as rest overtook her. Minutes passed, and the only audible sound was her slow and even breathing. But her stillness became short lived as she began to move in her sleep, shifting her body to find a more comfortable position. She turned onto her side, her back to Lorcán, but only lasted a few moments with her bruised face resting on the pillow.

In one movement, she flipped to her opposite side, now facing him, her extended arm draping across his torso, hand resting on his chest.

Lorcán’s heart skipped a beat as the cool hand came to rest on his chest. His mind raced as he tried to quiet the swirling thoughts inside his head, ignoring the based ones and focusing on that Aurora was here for comfort, nothing else.

They were just friends after all.

Weren’t they?

His eyes drifted back towards the ceiling as he intensely studied the stuccoed roof of his dorm. It was doubtful he’d sleep that night. No, it was most certain that he wouldn't.

Not a wink.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Beach - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
Take On Me #3.002: I Want More
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): @Melissa - Aurora Mitchell
Previously: Riptide

| Present
The mist off the ocean stung in his wounds, the salt creeping into his new scars. The healers said they could remove them, but Lorcán wanted to keep them. He didn't tell Aurora that, it would only upset her but he needed the reminder, the reminder that he needed to continue to train and the reminder of what he could become if he didn't get it back under control.

The open water was a welcome reprieve from the looks of pity he received across campus. Thankfully with the dress code abolished, Lorcán was finally free to wear his hat and a hood, keeping his face shrouded so as not to draw onlookers who gawked at the fresh scar. Memories of Raze still haunted his nightmares, his mother had insisted he return to seeing his own psychiatrist, but Lorcán was reluctant. Even after all these years, that same darkness, that inferno raged inside of him. He saw it in Raze and even if it was someone else's idea of who he could become, he knew his own mind is what had made Raze so real inside the Trial.

The swells were small today, but Lorcán just needed to be out on the water, away from the campus for a bit. He had visited Gil almost daily since the Trial, but despite the support of his team, Gil had slipped into a depressive state.

Then there was whatever was going on between Lorcán and Aurora. His feelings for her were stronger than ever but he was more confused about where they stood after waking up with her wrapped in his arms. Her body had been pressed up against his, his hand tightly gripping her hip, while she moved against him. The soft skin of her side touching his fingers that had slid under her shirt in the night. But as Lorcán awoke, and Aurora accidentally scooted her hips closer to his, he realized she was feeling all of him and panicked. Aurora awoke soon after and realizing what was going on immediately teleported to her room.

She had yet to acknowledge that morning again.

He looked down at his reflection in the water again before it disappeared as a small white cap disrupted the glassy surface. A bark from the shore caught Lorcán’s attention before he raised his molten eyes to see Rothschild waiting for him at the water’s edge.

“You can swim out here.” Lorcán teased as the dog barked back again. Rothschild turned his head, and Lorcán followed his eyes before they were drawn to a cliff overlooking the beach. Above the morning's waves, just outside the forest's edge was a creature Lorcán had never seen before.

White like a fresh snowfall, it almost seemed to glow even in the Dawn's early light. Large antlers stretched from either side of the majestic creature’s head as the place stag let out a powerful bellow that echoed over the water.

It wasn't uncommon for the island to have deer or even the occasional moose, but Lorcán had never seen one such as this. It appeared almost ancient as vines and moss coated its horns, small buds of flower interspersed across them.

Lorcán felt a pulse in his pocket, reaching for his phone only to remember it was still in his bag on the shore. Only then did his hand pat the object that Jonas had given him. It pulsed again, growing warm in his grasp.

Another bark from Rothschild brought Lorcán’s attention back to the stag, watching as it disappeared into the treeline before the border collie gave chase, kicking up sand before leaping into the air and flying towards the cliffs.

There was something about a flying dog that never got old.

“Slag it,” Lorcán muttered before dropping onto his stomach and paddling for show. “Wait up, dude, I’m coming too.”
“In today’s top headlines, a H.E.L.P. Albatross lost power while crossing the Pacific. Thankfully, no lives were lost as the Foundation Force was on scene within moments, Triton swimming to the rescue added by Daytripper and the Steel Shell.”

The man looked up from his drink, his eyes squinting towards the TV as he shook his head. There was something still bothering him from today’s rescue. H.E.L.P. was many things, but their equipment was top of the line, those aircraft didn’t just lose power. He absently swirled around the highball glass, listening to the ice inside clink against the tumbler.

The bar was mostly empty, the occasional regular sitting by themselves spaced out along the bar rail. Unfortunately, that made the droning sound of the TV even louder, agitating the long-haired man as he swung his drink a little too hard before dropping it with a dull thud against the bar.

“We go now to an interview recorded at the scene with the Foundation Force’s own Triton-”

“Can you turn that off?” The man suddenly roared as his own face appeared on the screen.

“Yo, buddy what’s your-” The bartender started before suddenly pausing and realizing who he was talking to. “My apologies, I didn’t realize I was serving a bonafide celebrity.”

“Would have preferred it stayed that way.”

“You’re a hero, practically a god to some people,” The bartender smiled, “Enjoy it, Triton.”

“Mack.”

“Sorry?” The bartender replied,

“My name is Makaio Tawhiri.” Mack replied, “But you can call me, Mack.”

“Well, Mack, your money is no longer good here. A hero drinks for free.”

“If I was any other Hyperhuman, would you say that?” Makaio challenged as the bartender faltered.

“Hey, if you want to pay, you want to pay,” He snapped back while raising his hands.

“How about I buy you a drink?” A woman smiled while pulling a stool up next to Makaio, “And not just because you’re him,” She added gesturing towards the TV, “I’m mostly doing it because I think you’re sexy.”

Makaio finished his drink, smiling as the woman winked her long lashes at him.

“I never turn down a drink from a beautiful woman.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The door to the bedroom flew off its hinges as Makaio backed through it, the woman from the bar wrapped around his torso, passionately kissing his bearded face. She wrapped her hands around his face, pulling his mouth tighter to her own, her tongue dancing against his.

She pulled at the buttons of his shirt, the small pieces of plastic giving way to the aggressive tug as they flew in every direction. Her hands traced his muscled body, feeling out every vein and scar, the lines of his tattoos.

“You probably get this a lot,” She whispered in his ear, panting in anticipation, “But you get me so, wet,”

Makaio stifled a chuckle before reaching around behind the woman’s back. The tearing of fabric echoed through the room as she excitedly squealed at his display. Placing her feet on the floor, she pushed him onto the bed before dropping to her knees and going for his belt.

A wave of sudden nausea fell over Makaio as his eyes were drawn to the necklace laid between the woman’s bosom as she knelt in front of him. A crimson cross hung on a simple silver chain. The strength rapidly drained from his body, his mind quickly connecting the dots, but still, it wasn’t fast enough.

The closet door burst open and from within two men lunged forward, each driving a spike through Makaio’s shoulders, pinning him to the bed. The Foundation Force member howled in pain, weakly attempting to fight back but the waves of nausea only increased and his abilities were non-responsive.

A cruel sneer was the last thing he saw before a click and a whir echoed through the bedroom. The weapon's hilt flew to her hand from its hiding place before the blade materialized - one quick slash severing Makaio’s head from his body.

A splattered arc of blackened crimson sprayed the wall as a deafening silence fell over the room.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“This is a warning.”

Broadcasts all over the world were suddenly interrupted, their image becoming nothing more than gray static as a modulated voice-over spoke. Their tone was flat, yet starkly defiant.

“No more deceivers.”

An image of an attack on Times Square by Hyperion’s Children from five years ago flashed onto the screen. It was followed by images of a squad of H.E.L.P. agents intervening in an investigation. Another image flashed onto the screen, this time of the Human Hyperhuman Alliance counter-protesting for more Hyperhuman rights.

“No more heroes.”

The voice spoke again, the static image changing to display the severed head of the Foundation Force’s Triton. His long hair and beard were stained in his own freshly spilled blood. It glistened on the screen, still wet from the kill.

“No more false gods.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Pacific Royal Campus - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
Take On Me #3.001: Brand New Numb
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: In The End

Prior to five years ago, the Homecoming Trials had always gone off without a hitch. Now again, for the second time in Pacific Royal’s history, the Trials had been disrupted. The student body was shaken, though thankfully the arrests of Naira Cameron, Lindsay Ainsworth and the rest of their House Orcinus associates had brought about a feeling of temporary relief. From the perspective of the bulk of the student body, Hyperion’s Children were dealt with, the only ones who were any wiser were the faculty and any remaining members hidden and laying low.

Staff at all levels had been briefed regarding House Orcinus, their greeting, and connection to Hyperion. They were splintered and disorganized now, without a leader and hopefully that would dissuade them doing any further harm. There was some welcome reprieve in all this, the attack by House Orcinus had taken some of the heat off of the Foundation during this tough transition.

That was bound to change.

A memo was sent out to the entire student body informing them of the uniform changes on campus. Understandably, this message was met with frustration due to the inconvenient timing. The majority of students packed only a limited wardrobe for wearing outside of academic hours. In the past forty-eight hours, the ferry to the mainland had been exceptionally busy with students of all ages venturing over to purchase new clothing, and the graduating class purchasing formal attire for their upcoming dance.

For the incoming students, Jim and the faculty had gone old school and replicated the first trial from the year the house system was introduced, back in 1990. Setting up both the Chimera’s Lair and the Thunderdome as a combination obstacle course, athletics and problem solving exercises. No augmented reality involved and medics were standing by in the event of any real world injuries. The low tech event had been a hit, and seemingly was more enjoyed than some of the previous spectacles brought about by the Hedge Trials on the Southern Plateau.

With the weekend behind them, the school had finally entered into its true academic year and the campus was buzzing with students moving between classes. It was still foreign to Jim to see the campus this alive without nary a blazer in sight. In all his years at Pacific Royal, from the time he was a student to being Chancellor, the uniform had been a constant. Scarcely updated from the day the doors opened until now, and a part of him was deeply saddened to see it gone.

Blackjack was still reeling from their experiences in the Trial, not that Jim could blame them. They had each been assigned time with counselors in order to work through what they had experienced. A team advisor had yet to be assigned and while Jim hoped that Rory would take up his offer to lead in the interim, he also knew that there was a very real possibility that Tad might not wake up and they would need to find a permanent replacement.

Most of the team’s physical injuries had been tended to. Some of the more severe injuries however needed time to fully heal and Gil was still bedridden due to the extensive damage he suffered. Even Hyperhuman healers had limits, and Blackjack’s wounds had found them. It was a surprise that none of them had been pushed into a state of Hyperpsychosis by the time they were rescued.

Initially, Torres had wanted to start Blackjack as her guinea pigs for a new sparring course, however given the state of the team and the fact that the Face of the Foundation had been called away to deal with an emergency, Jim instead had their courses rearranged to put the sparring later in the week. For the time being, they were simply attending their regular classes.

All that left was the Graduate’s Class homecoming dance at the end of the week. Calliope and Gil had made good headway, but with Gil currently still residing in the Infirmary, Jim knew Calliope would need a new hand. He had suggested that she reached out to Harper in Gil’s absence.

Hopefully, the team would get to enjoy a normal week for once.
The catwalk had collapsed that once held the Harbinger, though his body was likely no more than wall decoration at this point, Tad on the other hand stood a chance of surviving. His abilities allowed him to adapt, but Jim had never seen them proactively work, only retroactively and that’s what scared him.

There was one relief in all this, with the Harbinger gone and the Black Site destroyed, hopefully, Pacific Royal had finally seen the last of both House Orcinus and Hyperion’s Children.

Something hit Jim’s foot and he looked down to see the form of a man encased in stone. Focussing the last of his strength, Jim extended his field, covering Tad and dragging the younger man closer.

“I’ve got you, boy.” He muttered before pressing the button as Torres had instructed.

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re still alive,” Daytripper stated, announcing his arrival. “Let’s go, looks like they got your kids free.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Southern Plateau - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
Hope In Hell #2.060: In The End
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: High Hopes

Jim blinked and found himself in the fresh air of the Southern Plateau. Blackjack was being escorted out of the trial, every member of the team still alive though some worse for wear than others. He could see the bruises marring Aurora’s face, a fresh scar on Lorcán, one leg of Calliope’s A.R. suit was completely gone, the exposed skin of the leg underneath plastered in burns no doubt from the hard-light that was already blistering over her knee as she limped towards a care station. Though Calliope was in better shape than Banjo who’d likely be walking with a limp for the rest of his life given the wound he had received through his left leg. Gil had fared worse than the others however and was being carried out on a stretcher. Wounds covered his body, his breathing laboured on account of the punctured lung. Where others could be treated in the field, Gil was immediately rushed to the infirmary.

Leaning down, Jim rolled Tad’s stone-encased form over, checking for any signs of life. The chest was moving, slightly but the pulse was very faint as his body had gone into an almost hibernative state. Shrapnel and debris were lodged in his torso between the rock-like plates confirming Jim’s worst fears.

“I need medics over here,” Jim yelled as a pair ran towards him. Suddenly Tad’s hand reached out, grabbing ahold of Jim’s arm.

“Bla… Hyperi… K-kck!” He managed to spit out before beginning to choke as crimson bled freely from behind his teeth and pooled over his lips. Tad’s eyes began to roll towards the back of his head.

“We’re losing him,” A medic yelled, “I need transport immediately.”

“I’ve got you, gringos,” Daytripper interrupted, placing his hands on the medic and Tad before teleporting away. Jim watched them disappear in front of him, in five years it was the second time he had to watch his protégé fight for his life because of Hyperion, whether directly or indirectly and frankly, he was done with it.

“Jim, they’re in rough shape,” Miranda stated, moving towards Jim before being cut off by one of the techs from the control room. “Amma attacked Tyler, Calliope believes her leg is missing, and Gil’s unconscious and in critical condition. Most of the rest have burns and lacerations, and that’s not even beginning to unpack the psychological damage. Haven in particular got off exceptionally lucky, her neural uplink was ripped off seconds after Michael detonated the bomb. A moment sooner and she’d be catatonic right now.”

“I need y’all to take Friend and get to the hospital, the Foundation’s teleporter just left with Thaddeus, he’s not in a good state, Miranda.” Jim ordered softly, before leaning in close to Miranda’s ear, “Thaddeus tried to warn me about something before he went unconscious, do you know if he was chasing any leads.”

“He verified the Orcinus greeting, you don’t think a member of Blackjack is…?”

“I’d hate to, but at this point, it seems all too possible,” Jim murmured back before letting Miranda go, “Y’all best hightail it, best thing for Thaddeus right now is to be surrounded by loved ones.”

Jim bit down on his cheek, kicking his jaw to the side as he surveyed the team. He had known most of these kids from the first day they stepped foot on Dundas Island. It was hard to imagine any of them would align themselves with Hyperion’s Children and betray everything this school stood for.

“Sir, you need to see this.” A tech interrupted, handing him a tablet with footage from within the Trial playing on it. Jim felt his brown furrow as he watched Rory Tyler dawn the same garb that Hyperion himself wore. He knew Tyler, Tyler while a natural leader was not the type to want to harm anyone. There was context missing, but what it did present was an opportunity.

“Torres,” Jim called, approaching the woman and Hyperman who stood beside her clad in his long red coat.

“Can y’all spare a moment, need y’all for a little ride along.” He stated before showing them the tablet.

“I don’t think Tyler is guilty, I do think though we’ve been presented with an opportunity. Clearly, Michael wanted to recruit Tyler to his causes and I have reason to believe someone on Blackjack was loyal to that cause. We’re going to take Tyler on a little ride-along and explain to him what’s going on. There’s a pretty high chance he’ll cooperate and help us catch the true member of House Orcinus.”

“That seems like an actual plan, Chancellor, not very cowboy of you.” Torres allowed the corner of her mouth to turn into a smile before her face resumed its neutral expression. “Very well, Hank, if you'd please lead the way.”

“As you wish,” Hyperman bowed slightly before the three approached Rory.

“Tyler, you look no worse for wear, was wondering if you could give us a hand.” Jim stated, looking between Rory and Haven, the former having already been seen by a healer who had taken care of his lacerations.

“Sorry to pry you away from Miss Barnes, but I assure you she’s in good hands.” The surrounding company of Torres and Hyperman left little room for the request to be optional.

“We’ll bring him right back,” Jim promised as the four climbed inside a nearby Manticore. Jim was the first to speak, turning around to Rory, before presenting the tablet.

“Firstly, y’all aren’t in trouble, this isn’t an arrest or even an accusation. We want y’alls help,” Jim stated, “What we currently know is that a splinter cell of Hyperion’s Children was operating on campus as a secret house. Blackjack was specifically targeted by this sect and in our investigation we confronted the alleged leader and several of his followers. Unfortunately, he chose death by his own hand rather than to be arrested.”

“Based on the footage from the simulation,” Torres continued, taking the tablet from Jim and turning it towards Rory, “It would seem he was grooming you. Or attempting to. Your faculty representative unfortunately is in critical condition but according to Ms. Rivers was investigating the possibility of there being a member of Hyperion’s Children on Team Blackjack.”

“Tyler,” Jim paused for a second before starting again.

“Rory,” He spoke again, this time addressing the student by his given name, “We believe y’all have the rather unique opportunity to suss out this person. I’m hoping you’d be willing to be our eyes and ears, with Thaddeus in the hospital, you’re going to be without a rep until we find someone available and no one knows Blackjack better than you.”

“Take some time,” Torres interjected, “Don’t answer now, take some time, think it over but we ask that this stays between the people in this vehicle.”

Jim offered a weak smile.

“Including Hyperman.”

“Hank is fine, Chancellor.”

“Including Hank,”

Climbing out of the Manticore, Jim opened the door for Rory, motioning for the younger man to follow him back to Haven. As they exited the vehicle, Torres turned the engine over, the Manticore purring to life as the Foundation’s representative and her colleague headed towards campus. Jim broke the silence as he walked with Rory.

“Again, think it over, y’all can always choose just to be part of the investigation or just to be your team’s lead in the interim. Let me know.” Jim said, patting Rory on the back upon delivering the boy back to Haven.

Looking around the various students being treated for their injuries, Jim gave his head a shake. It wasn’t the tragedy of five years ago, but it was tragic nonetheless. These kids were supposed to be in the best year of their life and so far it had started with them being jerked around by their degrees being pulled, and now tortured by an enemy they didn’t know they had.

The semester had scarcely begun, and it had already been a year.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The sliding door of Torres’ balcony opened as a man entered silently, He walked into the living room where Torres sat reclined in a large chair, a satin robe draped over her figure while she aimlessly swirled a glass of red wine held haphazardly in her hand.

Without a word, the man hung his jacket, exposing a well-tailored three-piece suit underneath before he approached the bar, picking up a decanter and pouring himself a neat Scotch. He took a sip of the drink, not a drop touching the neatly trimmed beard that accented his chiselled jawline. He remained expressionless while finishing his drink before Torres finally acknowledged her guest.

“Miguel, please help yourself.”

"I assume you brought me here to ensure the experiments don't start again." The Fist replied rhetorically before topping up his drink and taking a seat across from the woman. Torres in turn nodded solemnly before also shaking her head.

"I did," She answered. Hesitation hovered on her lips as Miguel’s keen eyes studied her with an intensity that was so familiar but yet escaped her at that moment. Finally, her lips parted, releasing the words she was so reluctant to speak.

"But I fear we're much too late.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
Hope In Hell #2.055: Riptide
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): @Melissa - Aurora Mitchell
Previously: Lose Yourself

The eerily white sterile walls fluctuated around Lorcán as the boy with the sun-bleached hair pushed onwards through the maze of corridors and rooms. The facility seemed to rearrange itself on a whim, becoming increasingly erratic. There were fleeting moments when the simulation completely fell away, revealing his teammates running around each other, lost in twisted mirages of their deepest fears. The honeycomb-like pattern of the floor and walls rearranged itself before the hard-light constructs reappeared and Lorcán was pulled back into the nightmare.

No simulation he had ever been in before had felt so intentional and alive, it was almost as if it was reacting to his every movement. But the shifts began to slow, hallways becoming static as Lorcán ran closer to the sound of her voice. Her cries pulled at his heartstrings while her sobs echoed in the barren hallways. Turning the corner, Lorcán felt his chest lighten as his eyes were cast upon familiar locks of copper-toned hair.

“Rora!” He called excitedly, ignoring the pains of his injuries, “Lady Dude, I’m coming!”

As she knelt on the floor, head in her hands and consumed with dread, Aurora wondered if she’d ever make it out of this twisted simulation. Her teammates were gone, had abandoned her and left her behind, and she was completely spent and drained, no HZE’s to spare. She knew she had to be strong, had been through hell and back before, but everything in this place seemed to compound, causing her to feel absolutely hopeless.

Just when she thought she was ready to throw in the towel and accept her fate, a voice, familiar and true, rang out, ricocheting off of the walls. It reverberated in her mind and in her heart.

Lorcán?

But as she turned, hoping to gaze into his familiar sunset eyes, all she could see was a bloody scar sliced down the boy's tanned face. It had been another trick of the simulation, it wasn’t the Lorcán she knew, even if his voice was so familiar and convincing. Raze had found her, chased her down like a predator to prey, and she knew she was done for. Aurora scrambled to her feet, and began to back away, the invisible barrier that had originally blocked off the hallway having disappeared, allowing her purchase. But in the back of her mind, she just hoped he’d be merciful.

“NO! Don’t come any closer!” Her baby blue eyes were wide with absolute terror, face to face with the dopplegänger once more. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” She screeched, her hands instinctively coming up to block herself. “I already told you, I won’t join you!”

The young man’s footsteps faltered as she screamed towards him, slowing to a stop just several paces away from her. Lorcán’s eyes studied her, taking a deep breath. The trial had been exhausting, and still it seemed to give no reprieve as he could only assume this Aurora was also a trick much like the other had been.

He leaned against a nearby wall, slumping down to the floor and allowing himself a rest. His face hurt, and his back was awakened with new pain as the cold of the wall irritated the burns and lacerations. A small tear of frustration welled up in the corner of his left eye, the right trying to do the same but struggling against the wound covering it.

“I just need to find my Aurora.” He lamented softly, burying his head in his hands before the environment flickered again suddenly. As the walls faded, revealing the interior of the Trial again, Lorcán’s eyes were drawn towards where Aurora was only to realize she was still there.

She was his Aurora.

The walls came back, placing the pair back in a hallway, the white tile interspersed with brick and vine as the appearance of the Foundation was beginning to melt away and the original code appeared. Excitement rose in Lorcán as he began to tap a beat against the floor before starting to hum.

“A singer in a smoky room,” He wasn’t the best singer, but Lorcán could carry a tune. “The smell of wine and cheap perfume!”

The redhead observed the boy through moisture filled eyes as he slid down the wall and sat on the floor, but kept her distance. Raze had tried to trick her once already - pretend he was someone he was not - she wasn’t going to let herself fall for it a second time. But something about his body language wasn’t the same as before, he looked like he was in pain, and his voice faltered, filled with emotion. Could it be? She took a single step towards him, but hesitated.

The simulation flickered, her neural uplink cooling momentarily as their surroundings changed and began to dissolve the Foundation’s chilling interior. But he didn’t change with it, his form didn’t waver, no he was real. Living and breathing and here.

And then he was singing that damn song that he knew got on her nerves like no other. There was so much great music out there, but for some reason this one was named an ‘anthem’; it was overused and cheesy, and yet, in that moment it was the sweetest music she’d ever heard.

It was him.

“...Lorcán?” The redhead’s voice was cautious, soft and small, a juxtaposition to how her throat had burned from her previous yelling. Her feet moved of their own accord towards him and she knelt down to his level, even though her legs screamed in protest. She started crying again but in relief.

He hadn’t abandoned her.

He’d come to find her.

“I thought you were- I’m sorry, I- He tried to-” She couldn’t complete each thought before the next one came on, her words coming out in between gasping breaths. She gingerly reached up to cup his cheek, examining his face. “What did they do to you?”

“I had to fight myself,” Lorcán replied, placing his own hand over hers, “But like a kook version of myself, dude had a gonk cape. He wanted to ensure I remembered him, left me this souvenir.” Lorcán explained, a finger pointing towards the scar over his right eye. His other hand moved to Aurora’s face, hovering over the forming bruises.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop this,” He muttered, “I didn’t want you to be the one going through that door. I just don’t know what would have happened if I didn’t find you.” He moved his hands around Aurora’s shoulders, before pulling her in tightly, burying his face into her shoulder as he let out a small sigh of relief whilst fighting back the tears that had been welling up.

“I’m not letting go,” He teased, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Aurora grew rigid and tense at the mention of Raze, “I saw him too.” She breathed as his hand enveloped hers, committing the feeling of Lorcán’s comforting touch to memory. “I-I woke up in his garage, I thought he was you.” The redhead stuttered, wincing instinctively as he reached out towards her face. The skin was tender and painful, throbbing along with her head. “That’s why I ran from you. He tried to get me to join him and serve Hyperion, wanted me to kill my step-” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, utter his name, but as Lorcán wrapped her in his embrace, she could feel her whole body relax.

“It’s not your fault.” She reassured, bringing her hand up to run through his hair, stray tears continuing to fall down her cheeks as she attempted to regain her composure. “What happened though? I can’t remember anything after teleporting and my head really hurts, I can’t think straight.”

At his promise, she just held onto him tighter. Only moments ago, she thought he’d left her behind. Even though he did not realize it, his words meant everything and quieted the rogue thoughts in her head.

“Neither am I.”
The sound of a distant explosion rocked the Southern Plateau as the techs left overseeing the trial continued to fight against the Harbinger’s hijack.

“The corrupted code just went offline.” The tense silence of the Trial control room broke as the tech's excited exclamation echoed through the office. Over the last two hours, they had been working with no avail to push the corrupted code out of the system, having tried everything short of cutting the power out of fear of putting those inside into a catatonic state.

“Console is going green, we have control again.”

“Power it down, medical is standing by,” A member of the faculty ordered. They had seen what Blackjack had been subjected to. Every scenario, situation and interaction had been displayed in the control room for the techs to witness. Each of them would be subject to a debriefing following today. The student body on the other hand had been ordered back to campus the minute the Trial had been hijacked. The school couldn’t risk anyone else becoming hurt or trapped, let alone traumatized by witnessing what Blackjack had gone through.

“We won’t know what injuries were real and what was the work of the simulation until we get in there, bring full trauma kits and be prepared for emergency transportation.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: H.E.L.P.'s Black Site - Zayas Island, Pacific Ocean
Hope In Hell #2.051: High Hopes
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Tick Tick Boom

A faint violet glow illuminated the area above Teresa Torres as she strained her mind and body using her abilities to push against the collapsing roof. Beside her, Jim was at his breaking point, using his abilities to shield not only their allies but the nearby Orcinus students who had surrendered.

“My phone,” Grunted Torres looking toward both Jess and Miranda, “Press… the… button…” She motioned with her chin towards the dropped device as Miranda scooped it up. Outside the shield, flame and rubble consumed the Black Site, the prison had been wired to go with the Harbinger and Miranda was silently cursing herself for not catching it. She had been a hostage negotiator for H.E.L.P., she should have been able to profile Michael and realize he wasn’t walking out of this room alive.

Jessica on the other hand was nearly catatonic, her eyes unmoving from where Tad had tackled Michael. There was still hope that Tad could make it out alive, but it wasn’t something Miranda could allow herself to dwell on in the moment. Scooping the device up from the floor, Miranda pressed the button illuminated on the screen.

“Now what?” Miranda asked, looking from Torres to Jim.

“We hope.” Came the strained reply.

“Well, this sure is a pickle.” Interjected a foreign voice as Miranda turned to see a tanned olive-skinned man twitching his prominent handlebar moustache before chomping down on an unlit cigar. He flicked out a lighter, pressing it to the end of the cigar before a much larger man plucked it out of his mouth and extinguished it on the back of his hand.

“Alveraz,”

“Yeah, yeah, chief, don’t get your spandex in a knot,” Daytripper replied to Hyperman who immediately went to work placing his strength against the collapsing roof. Both Jim and Torres exhaled in relief as some of the strain was immediately taken off their shoulders.

“Guess I’ll be ‘porting you lot out of here,” The teleporter winked, wrapping a hand around Miranda’s waist and the other arm around Jess’ shoulders. “It is a real pleasure to meet you.” He winked before the three disappeared and the Daytripper reappeared, grabbing two Orcinus students before vanishing again. In a matter of moments, the Foundation Force member had cleared everyone except for his colleague, Jim, and Torres.

“Alright you three, together,” Daytripper ordered only for Jim to shake his head.

“Take them, I need to find Thaddeus.”

“I can’t let you do that, Sir,” Hyperman interjected before Torres held up a hand.

“Hank, I’ve got this,” She interjected, “Jim, you won’t be able to survive the weight,”

“I have to try.”

Torres grabbed Jim by the shoulder, before giving him a quick squeeze and releasing.

“Do what you have to do, but I’m enjoying our rivalry, so don’t die yet, cowboy.” She reached out her phone. “When you find him, hit the button and Alveraz will get you out of here,” Torres added before turning back to the two Foundation Force members.

“Get me out of here.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” Daytripper saluted and disappeared with Hyperman and Torres. The weight of the rubble above immediately shifted as Jim tried to keep his shield around himself. He gritted his teeth and bared the weight, moving quickly to get out from under the bulk of the falling debris.

He only hoped Tad was alive under all this concrete and steel.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: H.E.L.P.'s Black Site - Zayas Island, Pacific Ocean
Hope In Hell #2.048: Tick Tick Boom
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Monkey Wrench

“Do you have any idea what it’s like cleaning up after these kids that treat you like you’re invisible?”

The Harbinger continued to rant from the balcony above while Jim and his allies defended themselves against Hyperion’s Children.

“I nearly got frostbite after the senator’s daughter blew up a sink in the bathroom. And what thanks do I get for fixing that? She just left the sink exploded to thaw out and flood the place without telling anyone. And did you or any of the rest of the faculty even ask her about it?” He screeched, “NO! Because she’s part of your precious little Blackjack.”

“So you thought trapping them in the Trial would show them the error of their ways?” Jim retorted, grappling an attacking student and wrapping his mechanical arm around their neck before putting the cloaked figure into a firm sleeper hold.

“No,” The Harbinger replied smugly, “I thought it would break them, leave their minds nearly catatonic so that you’d have a mess on your hands to clean up and have no one take responsibility.” He turned towards Torres, still hiding his face under the mask he wore.

“And if I managed to frame the Foundation and its transfer student in the process then so be it. I do have to wonder why the late Chancellor, or rather Hyperion, took such a vested interest in Amma?” The Harbinger purred.

“Did no one else find that interesting? Oh trust me, as a janitor I was a fly on the wall, privy to all sorts of private conversations. When no one sees you, they are their truest selves in front of you.”

“Whether Amma Cahors was transferred here by Kowalski or not, it doesn’t matter now,” Torres retorted, “She’s now a member of this student body and far safer here than she was with the Foundation.”

“Is she though?” The Harbinger taunted, “One of mine has gone missing, where is Robert Arkwight, Miss Torres? Don’t ‘sub-class’ Hyperhumans have a tendency to go missing with the Foundation?”

Jim watched as Torres turned three shades lighter, it was the first time she had shown fear.

“I assure you, I had nothing to do with that.” She replied before Jim turned to her.

“Are y’all as sick of listening to this blowhard as I am? Mind tossin’ me up there?” He asked Torres whose stern expression seemed to crack a smile if only for a split second.

“It would be my pleasure.” Torres replied telekinetically vaulted Jim into the air. Behind them, Tad, Jessica and Miranda were doing their best against several other members of the splinter house.

"The winds are blowing." Tad blurted out, throwing his hands up as the Orcinus members stopped dead in his tracks. Miranda and Jess both paused, turning to look at Tad.

“Wait,” A voice came from under one of the hoods, “You’re one of us? Sorry, I had no idea-” A fist smashed into the robed figure’s face crumbling him over as Tad stood over him, shaking his now throbbing hand.

“Hey, not cool,” Came a reply from another hooded figure, “You didn’t have to do that, we don’t hit our own.”

“Nope, not one of you” He snapped, decking the other speaker as his hand adapted to the pain and force.

“Just testing a theory.” His facial experience steeled as he turned to Jess and Miranda while resuming the struggle with the remaining members of House Orcinus.

“We need to get Blackjack out now!” He yelled, “I think Mike might have one more card up his sleeve to play even if we get the Trial turned off.”

“Which is exactly why Mr. Tableau here is going to tell us how to turn it off.” Jim growled, his mechanical arm lifting the quivering man in front of him. Behind them, Naira was imprisoned in a purple case of psionic energy while the rest of the House Orcinus members knelt on the ground with their hands raised above their heads.

“Y-you should be shaking in your boots, not me!” The Harbinger snapped before Jim removed his mask and any remaining bravado. Under his hood was an active neural link, the LEDs illuminated indicating it was connected.

“Sorry, I choose my friends a whole lot better than y’all do, Miranda’s been keepin’ everyone’s minds guarded from your abilities the minute we walked in here.”

“Telepath.” Mike sneered, “But even you were blind to me.”

“I won’t make that mistake twice,” Miranda replied coolly, her eyes fixing on Michael. “Amazing,” Miranda muttered, a hand rising to her temple as her voice quivered slightly. “Someone taught you how to resist me,”

“Looks like he’s plugged in,” Jim stated, turning Michael around to show the others, “I’ll get the techs to take a look at it, see if they can’t use this uplink to end the entire simulation.”

Putting Michael down on the ground, Jim moved his hand to his belt looking for the restraints he had brought from the crashed Manticore.

“Long Live Hyperion.” Micheal suddenly shouted, breaking free from Jim before throwing his robe open to reveal a bomb strapped to his chest.

“Jim!” Miranda cried as Torres quickly pushed her and Jessica out of the way before reaching for the Chancellor. In the chaos, no one noticed Tad tackle Michael to the ground. The pair of men sliding along the catwalk while Jim was pulled into the air.

And then, the bomb went off.
“How is he settling in here?” Jonas asked, taking a seat beside Aiden on the large wrap-around porch. Behind the house, the waves of the ocean inlet lapped up against the rocking shore while the porch looked over a large yard, the Alumni Village sitting on the horizon.

“He’s adjusting, misses the noise and liveliness of the campus though,” Tori replied to Jonas’ question, placing a cold glass of iced tea down beside the Chancellor.

“Miss Clarke is working out as a tutor then? No incidents?”

“Lorcán seems quite fond of her,” Aiden replied, “Perhaps a tad too fond, but he’s working hard and his control is on par with students nearly five years his elder.”

“Boy does love a redhead,” Jonas replied with a knowing wink, as Aiden choked on his drink.

“Jonas!” Tori scolded with a smile, “No spoilers, you know that.”

“Apologies, I couldn’t help myself.” The Chancellor chuckled, “He’s a remarkable boy, an even more remarkable young man, I consider myself very honoured to be his honorary grandfather.”

“Yes, we’re very proud of Lorcán, he’s growing up so fast now. Seems like just yesterday we were watching him fight for his life in the NICU, now Lion Lungs has his H-Gene active.”

On the grass below, plasma clashed against plasma as Lorcán focused on maintaining his blade while the older redhead agilely danced around him. Aiden, Tori and Jonas turned to watch as the pair of teenagers continued to spar.

“You’re doing well, little dude.” Ryan complimented, “But you’re still overthinking.” She reprimanded feinting an attack only to come from a different angle which caused Lorcán’s blade to falter. It shattered upon impact from Ryan’s own, sending Lorcán tumbling into the grass outside of the Roth’s new family home in the Alumni Village.

“You need to stop thinking and start feeling, let your abilities be as natural as using your hand is. It should be instinctual to dodge using a boost or to block a surprise attack with a generated beam.” Ryan explained, “You’ve got a lot in your arsenal, definitely one of the broader abilities I’ve come across.”

“Keep in mind,” Aiden interjected, standing up from his seat and approaching the pair. He placed a hand on Lorcán’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Unlike Ryan or I, you’re not limited to one method of using your abilities. Ryan creates her plasma blades exclusively, and my abilities only manifest in optic blasts, but you have the ability to manipulate heat. It gives you versatility and an edge.” Aiden reminded Lorcán while watching the two train, “You have the element of surprise because you can opt for a different method of attack.”

Gripping Lorcán’s shoulders, he turned his son towards a scarecrow standing in the nearby garden. “Go ahead, try and create a heat blast using only your eyes. Think where you want the blast to go, blink, check again to make sure there’s no one in harm’s way then release your blast.”

Aiden gave Lorcán a pat on the back before stepping back. “Just remember, visualize, blink, check and then release.”

Taking a deep breath, Lorcán nodded. Concentrating on the air in front of him, he pictured two beams of fire before closing his eyes and steadying his stance. Opening his molten-coloured eyes, Lorcán watched with a smile as a pair of blasts erupted from in front of his face, spreading across the yard and igniting the scarecrow.

“And that’s how the Roth men do it.” Aiden celebrated.

“Congratulations my boy,” Jonas shouted from the porch, “We will be watching your career with great interest.”

“Couldn’t do it without my Dad,” Lorcán replied while sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, desperately hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Or Ryan,” He hastily added, this time turning a shade of beet red.

“That was so good, dude.” Ryan added.

“Now let's try again with sustaining those blades.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
Hope In Hell #2.047: Lose Yourself
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Duality

"Lorcán!"

Aurora’s voice felt simultaneously near, but distant. It wasn’t the cry of the doppelgänger above him, no Lorcán knew that to be his Aurora. Watching Raze’s cruel face above him, Lorcán knew he would have only one opportunity. His grip was beginning to slip, sweaty palms, weak knees and his arms heavy.

"Lorcán, please!"

Snap back to reality.

Her scream of desperation echoed across the chasm beneath Lorcán as he continued to hang. Every muscle in his body ached, strained and pushed to their limits as only the dull, constant throbbing of his body kept him focused.

"Don't worry about Aurora," Raze sneered, watching Lorcán's ears perk at her scream. "I'll make sure she's well taken care of, in time she may even come to love me."

Raze’s words burned in Lorcán’s ears as molten eyes turned upwards defiantly. Embers flared brightly as a new flame ignited within Lorcán, the hungry fire crying out for oxygen. Summoning his strength, Lorcán pulled himself upwards, but his efforts were to no avail, he was too weak.

He was running on fumes.

Then, he felt her, his pain, his torment beckoned for her to heed his cry. Stolen glances flashed before his eyes, full lips and raven-coloured hair. He could feel her in his arms again, the smell of the forest around him. As Lorcán hung defiantly, tendrils of crimson and silver flew from the abyss below. They crawled over his skin, wrapping around every limb, digging into his pores and sending a shiver of familiar pleasure up and down his spine.

His skin felt alive and electrified as a new power flowed within him, amplified like he had never been before. His toes curled and his eyes closed, he could practically feel her tracing his back, marking him as her own while he harnessed the unforgiving chaos gifted to him. It brought renewed strength that flowed through every muscle, the strength not of just one, but the strength of two.

Letting go of the girder from which he hung, Lorcán's hands flew to his sides. A wave of heat radiated from him, explosions erupting from each palm, launching the molten-eyed young man into the air as he agilely somersaulted over his darkly mirrored counterpart.

"You will not touch her."

A blazing beam of crackling crimson plasma exploded from Lorcán's hand, the blood-like colour casting an ominous hue over Raze as the near identical man quickly retaliated, his own blade of red pale in comparison to Lorcán’s.

“You’re going to need to be more specific,” Raze taunted, “Your thoughts betray you, they dwell on not one, but two.” He grinned like a Cheshire Cat. “There is much conflict in you. we’re not that different it would seem.” Raze scoffed before lunging. Sparks flew and angry hisses echoed over the catwalk as plasma and electromagnetic fields collided.

“Even a little boost from your friends won’t save you in the end.”

“You know why I’m stronger than you?” Lorcán cried, “Because I don't have friends,” His eyes suddenly flared, a crackle of silver and crimson danced in the corners. His father’s voice echoed in his ears.

“Visualize, blink, check and then release.”

“I've got family.”

The optic blast caught Raze off guard, obliterating the scarred half of his face. The smell of burning flesh overwhelmed Lorcán’s nostrils, nearly causing him to gag as the stunned doppelgänger stumbled backwards before plummeting over the edge and into the chasm.

Lorcán could feel the temporary boost from Amma weaning, the pain of his injuries rapidly returning. Still, the day was not yet over.

“Hold on, Aurora.” He muttered aloud through gritted teeth. “I’m coming.”

“I’m right here, hot stuff.” A familiar voice suddenly called from the balcony above. “You won, come and get your prize.”

“Sorry, brah,” Lorcán replied with an apologetic but weak smirk, “I’m not settling for anything less than the real thing, so I’ll be finding my Aurora.”

The doppelgänger pouted, leaning down on the railing while her outfit threatened to cause her chest to spill out. Lorcán took one last look before shaking his head and running for the door. Aurora blew a loose strand of hair from her eyes as she watched him go.

“Some gals have all the luck.”
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