<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
She should just punch something. Sure it might turn out to be a Spiderman or Green Lantern, but atleast then she's involved.
This is my kind of advice.
Lord Wraith
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Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
STATUS: I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me. 1 mo ago
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I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me.
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But can the Ghost Note see why kids love the great taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch?
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Have you tried finding the Avatar?
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Most Recent Posts
This is my kind of advice.
I should get an Iris post out over the next two days which will progress the event
Once you do this, I'll look at how to further involve Yara since she's been made redundant currently.
| The Black Forest, Germany - Several Weeks from Now
| Vancouver, British Columbia - A Few Weeks from Now
“This will protect you.”
Lorcán grimaced as the needle hit his skin. Despite having the majority of his left arm tattooed, he wasn’t prepared for the pain that came with the skin stitching currently being used to inscribe the protection rune onto the palm of his hand. It was to his own detriment that he chose to watch as the young woman carefully weaved the blood-soaked thread through his skin with each pull of the bone-whittled needle.
At first, Lorcán only saw his blood mingling with the application, but as the rune became more and more complete, a glow began to emanate from the palm of his hand until it became a brilliant light as the symbol was completed. Burning unlike anything that Lorcán had ever felt suddenly shot through his arms, his veins glowing beneath the skin and then just as suddenly as the incredulous pain began, it was gone.
The symbol on his hand scorched onto his skin, tar black in colour and the flesh completely healed. The woman smiled beneath her veil at Lorcán before she spoke again.
“This one is ready, bring the next one to me.”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Lorcán grimaced as the needle hit his skin. Despite having the majority of his left arm tattooed, he wasn’t prepared for the pain that came with the skin stitching currently being used to inscribe the protection rune onto the palm of his hand. It was to his own detriment that he chose to watch as the young woman carefully weaved the blood-soaked thread through his skin with each pull of the bone-whittled needle.
At first, Lorcán only saw his blood mingling with the application, but as the rune became more and more complete, a glow began to emanate from the palm of his hand until it became a brilliant light as the symbol was completed. Burning unlike anything that Lorcán had ever felt suddenly shot through his arms, his veins glowing beneath the skin and then just as suddenly as the incredulous pain began, it was gone.
The symbol on his hand scorched onto his skin, tar black in colour and the flesh completely healed. The woman smiled beneath her veil at Lorcán before she spoke again.
“This one is ready, bring the next one to me.”
| Vancouver, British Columbia - A Few Weeks from Now
Smoke flooded the sky as all days were drawn towards the screams from the top floor of the low rise apartment. The flame intensity had only increased, and all efforts to reduce them had been nearly wasted. The Vancouver Fire Rescue Services was doing the best they could now to contain the blaze, ensuring it didn’t spread further.
It wasn’t easy to get employed by the fire department. In fact, Aiden had needed to call in more than a few favors to get the documentation forged so Lorcán could present his qualifications. The whole family had needed to, even if they had been able to use H.E.L.P. as a referral, there was no telling the prejudice that Lorcán would have faced on the job as a known Hyperhuman.
Especially amidst an arson spree.
The timing was eerie, but along the same time Lorcán had begun working with the Vancouver Fire Rescue Services, the city seemingly had been laid siege to a series of suspicious fires. While British Columbia wasn’t immune to forest fires, and in fact was quite prone to them, October was hardly the time of year for such.
And forest fires were very different from building fires.
“HELP!”
The desperate scream brought Lorcán back to the present. An explosion shaking the building and surrounding sidewalk. He grit his teeth, looking between the squad while they steadied the hose. He couldn’t just stand here and idly let the people inside die.
Not again.
Lorcán suddenly pulled his mask over his face, securing his oxygen tanks before charging forward. Behind him came cries of protest, a hand tried to stop him, but Lorcán was among the fittest and fasted on the squad. His time spent surfing and the rigorous practical ability training under his father had made the young man into quite the athlete and he had more than aced the required physical examinations.
“ROOKIE!” The Captain yelled, “Stop! You’re going to get yourself killed!” But the Captain’s words fell on deaf ears. The smoke and debris around Lorcán only served as an encouragement to not allow history to repeat itself again. Laughter echoed in the flames as he pushed through the building, hastily climbing stairs that were thankfully built upon blocks lest they collapse beneath his weight. A horned silhouette was cast on the wall, the vision of what was described to him when the dust settled. Blue eyes filled with sudden fear before she was gone, dragged straight to a hell not meant for her.
Among the flames, Lorcán could see himself, his eyes and the adrenaline playing tricks on him as the doppelgänger ran alongside him. The flames responded to his movement, parting along his path, the heat subsiding around Lorcán as he bent it to his will.
But his own reflection watched him, taunting him to fail as ember hued eyes stared out through the inferno. Opting to ignore the voices, Lorcán took a breath, closing his eyes before continuing. By the time they opened again, the vision was gone and he was alone.
His insubordination would be reprimanded later. Lorcán realized he might even be risking his employment. Employment his family needed if they wanted to keep the roof over their head, employment he needed if he ever wanted to buy a ring worthy of Aurora.
But he couldn’t allow any more death.
“Roth!” The radio crackled to life, “Kenny! Are you there?”
“I’m here, Burdock,” Lorcán replied, he had opted to go by his middle name for work, the others primarily referring to him as ‘Roth’ while some called him ‘Ken’ or ‘Kenny’. To some extent, it felt like a fresh start, something he needed after all his friends left. Even Cass and Ripley had moved back to Crestwood Hollow on the other side of the country.
For the most part, Ken Roth lived and Lorcán had died with Pacific Royal.
“Chief is fuming, he’s going to kill you if you live.”
“I’ll live,” Lorcán replied, “I’ll expect Chief to take a strip off me, but I can’t just let them die.”
“You’re a fool and an idiot, but godspeed.”
The higher Lorcán climbed through the mid-rise, the more dense the smoke became. He wasn’t smoke proof and he knew that. Once his tank was empty, he was done. The screams for help became louder, the raspy voice of desperation echoing inside his mask as laughter filled the hallway again. Lorcán’s own gaze met the ember eyes of his failure, staring through the wall of fire, as his heart leapt into his throat.
This would not be a repeat of that night.
No one was losing anyone today.
Using his abilities to feel the heat from the flames, Lorcán pushed it back from the door before bursting in. Quickly moving to the mother and her children, Lorcán felt sweat beginning to form on his brow, a trickle of blood dripped from his nose onto his lip while he strain to push the heat and flames back from the room and hallway.
Guiding them through the building, he did everything he could to protect them before bursting forth onto the ground level, exiting the building just before a resounding crash echoed behind him as the upper floor began to cave in. Guiding the family towards the ambulance, Lorcán stumbled away in a haze, his ears deaf to the applause as his vision began to spin.
Never before had he strained his abilities like that.
“Whoa! Roth!” Burdock was suddenly beside Lorcán helping him to his feet. “Easy there, Swells, you’ve taken a lot of smoke, get some oxygen into you.” He insisted, handing a breathing mask to Lorcán.
“You’re a damned fool, but a brave soul.”
“Reckless.” Another voice spoke as Lorcán managed to look up, meeting the captain’s gaze.
“Damn reckless,” The captain repeated, “No sane man would have taken that risk. And admittedly lives would have been lost. There will be repercussions but,”
The captain paused.
“I’m proud of what you accomplished, but no more lone hero antics. This is a team, and team’s stick together.”
Lorcán nodded slowly, taking another deep breath before wiping the blood from his nose. A resentful thought echoed violently inside his head in response to the captain’s words.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________It wasn’t easy to get employed by the fire department. In fact, Aiden had needed to call in more than a few favors to get the documentation forged so Lorcán could present his qualifications. The whole family had needed to, even if they had been able to use H.E.L.P. as a referral, there was no telling the prejudice that Lorcán would have faced on the job as a known Hyperhuman.
Especially amidst an arson spree.
The timing was eerie, but along the same time Lorcán had begun working with the Vancouver Fire Rescue Services, the city seemingly had been laid siege to a series of suspicious fires. While British Columbia wasn’t immune to forest fires, and in fact was quite prone to them, October was hardly the time of year for such.
And forest fires were very different from building fires.
“HELP!”
The desperate scream brought Lorcán back to the present. An explosion shaking the building and surrounding sidewalk. He grit his teeth, looking between the squad while they steadied the hose. He couldn’t just stand here and idly let the people inside die.
Not again.
Lorcán suddenly pulled his mask over his face, securing his oxygen tanks before charging forward. Behind him came cries of protest, a hand tried to stop him, but Lorcán was among the fittest and fasted on the squad. His time spent surfing and the rigorous practical ability training under his father had made the young man into quite the athlete and he had more than aced the required physical examinations.
“ROOKIE!” The Captain yelled, “Stop! You’re going to get yourself killed!” But the Captain’s words fell on deaf ears. The smoke and debris around Lorcán only served as an encouragement to not allow history to repeat itself again. Laughter echoed in the flames as he pushed through the building, hastily climbing stairs that were thankfully built upon blocks lest they collapse beneath his weight. A horned silhouette was cast on the wall, the vision of what was described to him when the dust settled. Blue eyes filled with sudden fear before she was gone, dragged straight to a hell not meant for her.
Among the flames, Lorcán could see himself, his eyes and the adrenaline playing tricks on him as the doppelgänger ran alongside him. The flames responded to his movement, parting along his path, the heat subsiding around Lorcán as he bent it to his will.
But his own reflection watched him, taunting him to fail as ember hued eyes stared out through the inferno. Opting to ignore the voices, Lorcán took a breath, closing his eyes before continuing. By the time they opened again, the vision was gone and he was alone.
His insubordination would be reprimanded later. Lorcán realized he might even be risking his employment. Employment his family needed if they wanted to keep the roof over their head, employment he needed if he ever wanted to buy a ring worthy of Aurora.
But he couldn’t allow any more death.
“Roth!” The radio crackled to life, “Kenny! Are you there?”
“I’m here, Burdock,” Lorcán replied, he had opted to go by his middle name for work, the others primarily referring to him as ‘Roth’ while some called him ‘Ken’ or ‘Kenny’. To some extent, it felt like a fresh start, something he needed after all his friends left. Even Cass and Ripley had moved back to Crestwood Hollow on the other side of the country.
For the most part, Ken Roth lived and Lorcán had died with Pacific Royal.
“Chief is fuming, he’s going to kill you if you live.”
“I’ll live,” Lorcán replied, “I’ll expect Chief to take a strip off me, but I can’t just let them die.”
“You’re a fool and an idiot, but godspeed.”
The higher Lorcán climbed through the mid-rise, the more dense the smoke became. He wasn’t smoke proof and he knew that. Once his tank was empty, he was done. The screams for help became louder, the raspy voice of desperation echoing inside his mask as laughter filled the hallway again. Lorcán’s own gaze met the ember eyes of his failure, staring through the wall of fire, as his heart leapt into his throat.
This would not be a repeat of that night.
No one was losing anyone today.
Using his abilities to feel the heat from the flames, Lorcán pushed it back from the door before bursting in. Quickly moving to the mother and her children, Lorcán felt sweat beginning to form on his brow, a trickle of blood dripped from his nose onto his lip while he strain to push the heat and flames back from the room and hallway.
Guiding them through the building, he did everything he could to protect them before bursting forth onto the ground level, exiting the building just before a resounding crash echoed behind him as the upper floor began to cave in. Guiding the family towards the ambulance, Lorcán stumbled away in a haze, his ears deaf to the applause as his vision began to spin.
Never before had he strained his abilities like that.
“Whoa! Roth!” Burdock was suddenly beside Lorcán helping him to his feet. “Easy there, Swells, you’ve taken a lot of smoke, get some oxygen into you.” He insisted, handing a breathing mask to Lorcán.
“You’re a damned fool, but a brave soul.”
“Reckless.” Another voice spoke as Lorcán managed to look up, meeting the captain’s gaze.
“Damn reckless,” The captain repeated, “No sane man would have taken that risk. And admittedly lives would have been lost. There will be repercussions but,”
The captain paused.
“I’m proud of what you accomplished, but no more lone hero antics. This is a team, and team’s stick together.”
Lorcán nodded slowly, taking another deep breath before wiping the blood from his nose. A resentful thought echoed violently inside his head in response to the captain’s words.
Yeah, sure they do.
“So how’d you do it, freak?”
The voice interrupted the rushing water that was falling on either side of Lorcán’s head, the smell of smoke seemingly wouldn’t wash off as he tried to find a moment of relaxation in the shower. Steam rising all around him, obscuring his vision so much that he didn’t see Miller enter the shared shower.
“How’d you survive in a fire where most people would have passed out by the second floor? You got to the fifth and back?” The angry man shouted, passing behind Lorcán who continued to ignore his tirade hoping he’d get bored and leave.
“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you, Kenny!” Miller roared, his hand shooting past Lorcán before turning the shower tap straight to cold. The sudden change in temperature caught Lorcán off guard and he didn’t react fast enough to stop the steam from rising off of his body as the frigid water splashed against his bare skin.
“I bet you started that damn fire to play hero,” Miller accused, poking Lorcán in the chest before shoving the younger man. “You come in here, lying about what you so obviously are, I bet you even came from that island of your kind. Even heard they shut you all down.”
A smug expression crossed the older man’s face.
“That’s right, I know all about it. The truth is out there if you know where to look.” It was only now that Lorcán noticed for the first time the red cross tattoo on the underside of Miller’s forearm.
But for the life of him, he couldn’t place where he had seen that mark before.
“Serves you lot right, you’re inhuman, genetic mistakes. What gives you the right to come in here and take a job from people who worked a whole lot harder to be where you are? Huh?!?”
Miller gave Lorcán another shove, the slick floor catching the younger man off balance as he tumbled backwards, managing to catch himself before his skull cracked against the hard floor. A boot met his ribs sending him onto his back, exposed and vulnerable.
“C’mon, freak, fight back. I know you want to. Show me what makes you so special.”
“There’s absolutely nothing special about me,” Lorcán groaned, fighting every instinct in his body. He wanted to fight back, he wanted to scare Miller, but he knew he couldn’t, if he did, they’d go for Aurora next and then his parents and it would just continue to ripple from there.
“This handy app on my phone says otherwise,” Miller retorted, holding up the device. The screen was one of the numerous apps that claimed to be able to detect Hyperhumans. It was of course false, cell phones didn’t contain that sort of technology. It was nothing more than a cheap way to cash in on paranoia.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing an inhibitor, freak?” Miller asked, before another kick caught Lorcán in the ribs.
“I’m not a fr-” His protest was cut short by a fist to his face, his eye almost immediately swelling shut. Lorcán had trained alongside the likes of Katja and he was still caught off guard with how hard a human could hit.
“Hey!” A shout came from outside the shower as Burdock ran in, pushing Miller off of Lorcán.
“What the hell?”
“He’s one of those Hypes!” Miller protested, “That’s how he survived, he’s taking our jobs!”
“You’re a moron, Miller, everyone knows those apps are fake.” Burdock snapped, “Get out of here,”
“The captain will hear about this!” Miller roared as Burdock nodded in reply.
“Yes, yes he will.” He stood his ground as Miller stormed off before tossing Lorcán a towel and helping the younger man to his feet.
“People are so paranoid these days, can’t do anything without being branded a damn Hyperhuman.” He stated, his eyes watching where Miller had left, “You could tell me though, if you were one.”
“Like I told Miller,” Lorcán replied through gritted teeth.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________The voice interrupted the rushing water that was falling on either side of Lorcán’s head, the smell of smoke seemingly wouldn’t wash off as he tried to find a moment of relaxation in the shower. Steam rising all around him, obscuring his vision so much that he didn’t see Miller enter the shared shower.
“How’d you survive in a fire where most people would have passed out by the second floor? You got to the fifth and back?” The angry man shouted, passing behind Lorcán who continued to ignore his tirade hoping he’d get bored and leave.
“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you, Kenny!” Miller roared, his hand shooting past Lorcán before turning the shower tap straight to cold. The sudden change in temperature caught Lorcán off guard and he didn’t react fast enough to stop the steam from rising off of his body as the frigid water splashed against his bare skin.
“I bet you started that damn fire to play hero,” Miller accused, poking Lorcán in the chest before shoving the younger man. “You come in here, lying about what you so obviously are, I bet you even came from that island of your kind. Even heard they shut you all down.”
A smug expression crossed the older man’s face.
“That’s right, I know all about it. The truth is out there if you know where to look.” It was only now that Lorcán noticed for the first time the red cross tattoo on the underside of Miller’s forearm.
But for the life of him, he couldn’t place where he had seen that mark before.
“Serves you lot right, you’re inhuman, genetic mistakes. What gives you the right to come in here and take a job from people who worked a whole lot harder to be where you are? Huh?!?”
Miller gave Lorcán another shove, the slick floor catching the younger man off balance as he tumbled backwards, managing to catch himself before his skull cracked against the hard floor. A boot met his ribs sending him onto his back, exposed and vulnerable.
“C’mon, freak, fight back. I know you want to. Show me what makes you so special.”
“There’s absolutely nothing special about me,” Lorcán groaned, fighting every instinct in his body. He wanted to fight back, he wanted to scare Miller, but he knew he couldn’t, if he did, they’d go for Aurora next and then his parents and it would just continue to ripple from there.
“This handy app on my phone says otherwise,” Miller retorted, holding up the device. The screen was one of the numerous apps that claimed to be able to detect Hyperhumans. It was of course false, cell phones didn’t contain that sort of technology. It was nothing more than a cheap way to cash in on paranoia.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing an inhibitor, freak?” Miller asked, before another kick caught Lorcán in the ribs.
“I’m not a fr-” His protest was cut short by a fist to his face, his eye almost immediately swelling shut. Lorcán had trained alongside the likes of Katja and he was still caught off guard with how hard a human could hit.
“Hey!” A shout came from outside the shower as Burdock ran in, pushing Miller off of Lorcán.
“What the hell?”
“He’s one of those Hypes!” Miller protested, “That’s how he survived, he’s taking our jobs!”
“You’re a moron, Miller, everyone knows those apps are fake.” Burdock snapped, “Get out of here,”
“The captain will hear about this!” Miller roared as Burdock nodded in reply.
“Yes, yes he will.” He stood his ground as Miller stormed off before tossing Lorcán a towel and helping the younger man to his feet.
“People are so paranoid these days, can’t do anything without being branded a damn Hyperhuman.” He stated, his eyes watching where Miller had left, “You could tell me though, if you were one.”
“Like I told Miller,” Lorcán replied through gritted teeth.
“There’s nothing special about me.”
Holding a near melted ice pack over his eyes, Lorcán gingerly opened the door to the diner, the wafting aroma instantly making his stomach growl before he made his way to the front counter and took a seat on a nearby bar stool.
He winced as he bent his torso to sit, placing a hand to his bruised ribs before a mug slid his way, the fry cook calling a familial greeting towards his newest regular. Behind the counter, the staff moved about, the ever-busy diner keeping each of the wait staff on their toes as full tables alternated between waiting for food and enjoying the piping hot dishes placed in front of them.
There wasn’t anything particularly fancy on the menu, in fact it was surprising that the diner did as well as it did. Everything felt about fifty years in the past, an anachronism in the middle of the bustling city.
Maybe that was the appeal, a reminder of a slower time.
For Lorcán however, the draw was far nearer to his heart. She had a head of radiant red hair that spilled over his shoulders like a copper water fly while sapphire blue eyes illuminated the moment she saw him.
The classic outfit and the apron were cute on Aurora, Lorcán certainly couldn’t complain. As she turned around, he saw her eyes immediately go wide at the black eye before Lorcán managed one of his signature grins and greeted his girlfriend.
“Hey, Dream Girl, how’s your day going?”
He winced as he bent his torso to sit, placing a hand to his bruised ribs before a mug slid his way, the fry cook calling a familial greeting towards his newest regular. Behind the counter, the staff moved about, the ever-busy diner keeping each of the wait staff on their toes as full tables alternated between waiting for food and enjoying the piping hot dishes placed in front of them.
There wasn’t anything particularly fancy on the menu, in fact it was surprising that the diner did as well as it did. Everything felt about fifty years in the past, an anachronism in the middle of the bustling city.
Maybe that was the appeal, a reminder of a slower time.
For Lorcán however, the draw was far nearer to his heart. She had a head of radiant red hair that spilled over his shoulders like a copper water fly while sapphire blue eyes illuminated the moment she saw him.
The classic outfit and the apron were cute on Aurora, Lorcán certainly couldn’t complain. As she turned around, he saw her eyes immediately go wide at the black eye before Lorcán managed one of his signature grins and greeted his girlfriend.
“Hey, Dream Girl, how’s your day going?”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Pacific Royal Campus Beach - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Human #5.008: Nothing Special
Interaction(s): Aurora Mitchell - @Melissa
| Present
| Several Weeks from Now
Previously: Death Of A Bachelor
| Present
It still felt like only moments ago that Lorcán and Aurora had been completely lost in blissful ignorance before returning to the aftermath of the Chernobog’s attack. The news of P.R.C.U. closing had been like a knife repeatedly stabbed in Lorcán’s chest before twisted and left there. All around him were faces he couldn’t be sure he’d ever see again.
His leg bounced nervously up and down, the sand surrounding his foot had been compressed into a crater while his nervous waves caused the fire to emit off waves of heat far hotter than it should have. His free hand tapped a beat against the thigh of his bouncing leg while his other gave Aurora’s hand a tight squeeze.
More than even Lorcán, Aurora was having a difficult time with the changes facing them. After everything with her home life, she had found a new home at P.R.C.U. and next to Lorcán himself, she had been there longer than any other gathered member of Blackjack or Eclipse.
They had discussed solutions, and while it was clear that Lorcán would not be going to the Foundation, it was not up to him to speak for Aurora either. There were just no words that could communicate what he was feeling, the turmoil inside of him as he looked between Gil and Rory realizing this may very well be the end of the ‘Wolfpack’.
In particular his eyes dwelled on Rory’s legs, bittersweet memories of running the Hyperball field together before realizing there would be no more of those memories to be made even if Rory fully healed. He looked to Haven next, and the absence of the shadow her wings would normally had cast, clothing covering her that didn’t need any modifications to accommodate the large wings only further drove the point home they were gone.
How envious Lorcán had once been to fly above the campus and soar like Haven had. Now that ability was taken from her and Lorcán could only wonder if such an outward ability was more curse than a gift.
How could Lorcán have been so selfish to abandon his team that night? If he and Aurora had stayed at the dance, maybe they could have made the difference. Maybe he and Amma could have teamed up, it wasn’t like Amma hadn’t boosted his powers before.
She could have boosted both of them, Aurora could have gotten people to safety while Lorcán cooked the Chernobog from the inside. How stupid he was to abandon them when he needed them most. Lorcán couldn’t blame any of them for wanting to leave.
He had failed them, he had let his friends suffer.
Cleo’s voice stirred him from his thoughts, Lorcán lifted his reddened eyes up to meet her gaze as she quietly spoke. Nodding his approval of her choice, he muttered a quiet reply of his own.
“You’ll be safe there.” The words were hollow, a half truth that he lied about to himself. Lorcán still didn’t trust the Foundation, but with Jim in custody and the grounds seized, there wasn’t a better place for young Hyperhumans. He had heard stories of the outside world. He had heard Amma’s warnings too.
Did that thing come from the Foundation? Or was it merely a repercussion for their actions? If the Foundation and H.E.L.P. had worked together all this time, wouldn’t they all have been safe?
“We’r-” He paused, reminding himself not to speak for Aurora but instead to give her room to tell her own story and revelations. “I’m,” He corrected before continuing to speak, “I’m going to Crestwood Hollow tomorrow to stay with Cass and Ripley.” Lorcán explained.
“My parents thought it best if I was aware from here while the dust settles and they get their affairs in order. They’re going to be trying to get jobs to keep the house in the village. If that doesn’t pan out,” His voice trailed off, his thoughts reminiscing on the first time he felt Amma through the fire and how odd it was that she wasn’t here with them now.
“I guess, we’ll all move to Crestwood Hollow and live with my Aunt and Uncle until something permanent works out.” He poked at the fire with a stick. Last time they were all sitting around a fire like this, Lorcán would have done anything to get off this island and see the world.
Now he’d give anything to be able to stay a little longer.
The hairs on the back of Lorcán’s neck stood on edge and his eyes darted around, expecting to find something watching him. Part of him expected the white stag to be looming from the nearby cliffs but beyond the circle, his eyes only found darkness. Not even a lightning bug illuminated the dark, cool, fall night.
It was only when Lorcán looked away that a pair of ember-hued eyes stared back.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________His leg bounced nervously up and down, the sand surrounding his foot had been compressed into a crater while his nervous waves caused the fire to emit off waves of heat far hotter than it should have. His free hand tapped a beat against the thigh of his bouncing leg while his other gave Aurora’s hand a tight squeeze.
More than even Lorcán, Aurora was having a difficult time with the changes facing them. After everything with her home life, she had found a new home at P.R.C.U. and next to Lorcán himself, she had been there longer than any other gathered member of Blackjack or Eclipse.
They had discussed solutions, and while it was clear that Lorcán would not be going to the Foundation, it was not up to him to speak for Aurora either. There were just no words that could communicate what he was feeling, the turmoil inside of him as he looked between Gil and Rory realizing this may very well be the end of the ‘Wolfpack’.
In particular his eyes dwelled on Rory’s legs, bittersweet memories of running the Hyperball field together before realizing there would be no more of those memories to be made even if Rory fully healed. He looked to Haven next, and the absence of the shadow her wings would normally had cast, clothing covering her that didn’t need any modifications to accommodate the large wings only further drove the point home they were gone.
How envious Lorcán had once been to fly above the campus and soar like Haven had. Now that ability was taken from her and Lorcán could only wonder if such an outward ability was more curse than a gift.
How could Lorcán have been so selfish to abandon his team that night? If he and Aurora had stayed at the dance, maybe they could have made the difference. Maybe he and Amma could have teamed up, it wasn’t like Amma hadn’t boosted his powers before.
She could have boosted both of them, Aurora could have gotten people to safety while Lorcán cooked the Chernobog from the inside. How stupid he was to abandon them when he needed them most. Lorcán couldn’t blame any of them for wanting to leave.
He had failed them, he had let his friends suffer.
Cleo’s voice stirred him from his thoughts, Lorcán lifted his reddened eyes up to meet her gaze as she quietly spoke. Nodding his approval of her choice, he muttered a quiet reply of his own.
“You’ll be safe there.” The words were hollow, a half truth that he lied about to himself. Lorcán still didn’t trust the Foundation, but with Jim in custody and the grounds seized, there wasn’t a better place for young Hyperhumans. He had heard stories of the outside world. He had heard Amma’s warnings too.
Did that thing come from the Foundation? Or was it merely a repercussion for their actions? If the Foundation and H.E.L.P. had worked together all this time, wouldn’t they all have been safe?
“We’r-” He paused, reminding himself not to speak for Aurora but instead to give her room to tell her own story and revelations. “I’m,” He corrected before continuing to speak, “I’m going to Crestwood Hollow tomorrow to stay with Cass and Ripley.” Lorcán explained.
“My parents thought it best if I was aware from here while the dust settles and they get their affairs in order. They’re going to be trying to get jobs to keep the house in the village. If that doesn’t pan out,” His voice trailed off, his thoughts reminiscing on the first time he felt Amma through the fire and how odd it was that she wasn’t here with them now.
“I guess, we’ll all move to Crestwood Hollow and live with my Aunt and Uncle until something permanent works out.” He poked at the fire with a stick. Last time they were all sitting around a fire like this, Lorcán would have done anything to get off this island and see the world.
Now he’d give anything to be able to stay a little longer.
The hairs on the back of Lorcán’s neck stood on edge and his eyes darted around, expecting to find something watching him. Part of him expected the white stag to be looming from the nearby cliffs but beyond the circle, his eyes only found darkness. Not even a lightning bug illuminated the dark, cool, fall night.
It was only when Lorcán looked away that a pair of ember-hued eyes stared back.
| Several Weeks from Now
The echoes of tormented souls and trapped monsters reverberated through Lorcán’s ears as he slowly opened his eyes, finding himself laying upon the damp sand of a shore. Fog with hues of pink and purple danced along the forest’s edge as the blood red moon overhead illuminated everything in its crimson light.
Lorcán had stood on this beach many times before, and yet there was something so distinctly unsettling about it. It bordered on the uncanny, and he could feel his heart throbbing inside his chest before looking at the faintly glowing rune on the palm of his hand.
Tapping his body, Lorcán ensured his armor was secured as a nearby howl turned the blood in his veins to ice. A gun was firmly holstered to his thigh while the pair of short swords sat strapped across the back of his waist.
The air somehow smelled fresher here, as though free of pollutants and the forest dotting the edge of the island was denser, less developed. But Lorcán no longer could feel any HZEs in the air, his powers seemingly were unresponsive as he tried to warm himself against the bitter cold of the night.
It may have looked like home.
But it was far from it.
Lorcán had stood on this beach many times before, and yet there was something so distinctly unsettling about it. It bordered on the uncanny, and he could feel his heart throbbing inside his chest before looking at the faintly glowing rune on the palm of his hand.
Tapping his body, Lorcán ensured his armor was secured as a nearby howl turned the blood in his veins to ice. A gun was firmly holstered to his thigh while the pair of short swords sat strapped across the back of his waist.
The air somehow smelled fresher here, as though free of pollutants and the forest dotting the edge of the island was denser, less developed. But Lorcán no longer could feel any HZEs in the air, his powers seemingly were unresponsive as he tried to warm himself against the bitter cold of the night.
It may have looked like home.
But it was far from it.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Beach - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Human #5.001: Before You Go
Interaction(s): None
Previously: What I've Done
The week had flown by and what was left of both Blackjack and Eclipse sat gathered on the beach, watching the ebb and flow of the tide while the flickering flames of the campfire danced about in the darkness. This was the end of their time at Pacific Royal and the mood was heavy, Drinks and snacks alike sat untouched as each member of the group stared at their feet, counting the grains of sand that laid between them.
Just a month ago, Blackjack had been a full team of twelve. But now, even with the last three members of Eclipse joining them they were only eleven. Pallyx had been revealed to be an imposter, Calliope was dead, Mei was gone and no one had seen or heard from Katja since the dance.
Worst of all, Amma had been dragged into the abyss, gone, presumably dead or worse, going down with whatever the hell it was that had attacked them. They had no answers, they had no resolutions. This Daedalus wasn’t caught and instead it had been Jim who had been taken away in cuffs.
A decision laid before each of them, go home or go to the Foundation’s Institute. It wasn’t a decision to be made lightly but also it wasn’t a decision that was easy to make for those among them who didn’t have a home to return to. No matter, they couldn’t stay on the Island, not without being able to afford a house within the Alumni Village.
For sale signs had already been posted in front of the homes of those who couldn’t find work, while mainlanders had already been visiting hoping for cheap real-estate on the ‘island of freaks’. The campus had already begun to be blocked off, with temporary fences erected along the main pathways while the A.R.C. sat in the same dilapidated condition that the Chernobog left it in.
After tonight the dorms would be sealed and in the morning the ferry would leave one last time. It was sobering and depressing and the heavy mood hung like a weight over the group. A stifled sob echoed out over the beach while gloomy music played gently in the background, barely audible above the waves.
Tear filled eyes desperately searched one another waiting for someone to be the first to break the trepid silence.
Just a month ago, Blackjack had been a full team of twelve. But now, even with the last three members of Eclipse joining them they were only eleven. Pallyx had been revealed to be an imposter, Calliope was dead, Mei was gone and no one had seen or heard from Katja since the dance.
Worst of all, Amma had been dragged into the abyss, gone, presumably dead or worse, going down with whatever the hell it was that had attacked them. They had no answers, they had no resolutions. This Daedalus wasn’t caught and instead it had been Jim who had been taken away in cuffs.
A decision laid before each of them, go home or go to the Foundation’s Institute. It wasn’t a decision to be made lightly but also it wasn’t a decision that was easy to make for those among them who didn’t have a home to return to. No matter, they couldn’t stay on the Island, not without being able to afford a house within the Alumni Village.
For sale signs had already been posted in front of the homes of those who couldn’t find work, while mainlanders had already been visiting hoping for cheap real-estate on the ‘island of freaks’. The campus had already begun to be blocked off, with temporary fences erected along the main pathways while the A.R.C. sat in the same dilapidated condition that the Chernobog left it in.
After tonight the dorms would be sealed and in the morning the ferry would leave one last time. It was sobering and depressing and the heavy mood hung like a weight over the group. A stifled sob echoed out over the beach while gloomy music played gently in the background, barely audible above the waves.
Tear filled eyes desperately searched one another waiting for someone to be the first to break the trepid silence.
If the scene following the Trial looked bad, then Jim was out of adjectives to describe the scene unfolding in the A.R.C. As the ice was thawed, the death toll rose and those with life threatening injuries grew to numbers that exceeded the facilities available on the campus grounds. Of the nearly hundred members of the graduating class, thirty percent were deceased and nearly all of the remaining seventy were injured in some capacity.
Not even during Hyperion’s reign of terror had P.R.C.U. seen such devastation. It was all Jim could do to keep moving, helping with the injured and keeping the living from going catatonic looking at the dead. Perhaps that’s why Jim didn’t realize that Torres had drawn her last breath in his arm. Perhaps that’s why Jim didn’t realize the sun was coming up when a hand was placed on his shoulder.
He certainly didn’t realize the handcuffs were on his wrists until he was escorted into the helicopter landed in the middle of campus, watching as his world grew smaller and smaller before it was gone.
Not even during Hyperion’s reign of terror had P.R.C.U. seen such devastation. It was all Jim could do to keep moving, helping with the injured and keeping the living from going catatonic looking at the dead. Perhaps that’s why Jim didn’t realize that Torres had drawn her last breath in his arm. Perhaps that’s why Jim didn’t realize the sun was coming up when a hand was placed on his shoulder.
He certainly didn’t realize the handcuffs were on his wrists until he was escorted into the helicopter landed in the middle of campus, watching as his world grew smaller and smaller before it was gone.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Kneeling beside a small gravestone, Miguel Ramos kissed the rose in his hand and placed it at the foot of the tomb stone. His head hung low, a whispered prayer coming from between his lips before he stood and stepped away.
“I’m sorry,” He stated, “I couldn’t be there,” His voice cracked.
“I’m sorry,” He stated, “I couldn’t be there,” His voice cracked.
“I didn’t save her.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Dance Monkey #4.094: What I've Done
Interaction(s): None
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Previously: Down to Hell
“Effective immediately, Pacific Royal Collegiate & University along with its facilities are closed.” The voice boomed over the gathered student body. What used to fill the stadium had severely diminished in the last few months, and the senior class that was set to graduate this year further so following the Chernobog’s attack.
Immediately following the attack, Jim O’Neil had been removed from his position as Chancellor, with the Director of H.E.L.P., Winter Caspian momentarily stepping in to assume the role for the last week before the Alexandria Foundation had petitioned for P.R.C.U.'s immediate closure. Those in power were more than happy to help, especially the effort’s spearhead who was none other than Senator Garcia de León still mourning the loss of his daughter.
“Students will of course be offered a position at the Alexandria Foundation, and arrangements will be made to transport their belongings at their earliest convenience. Students who decline this offer will be responsible for finding their own arrangements. “ The speaker continued, his voice void of empathy, his body language clearly disgusted even having stepped foot on these ‘cursed’ grounds.
“I suggest you all decide quickly, this campus is now seized by the Canadian Government and a notice of seven days has been issued to residents to clear out. After this time, any lingering students will be seen as trespassing and will be subject to enforcement by local authorities.”
A murmur moved through the student body, anger rose in the din of voices before the speaker continued.
“Former Chancellor James O’Neil has been found guilty on numerous accounts of criminal neglect in his operation of this school and will be facing imprisonment due to lives lost under his command. A formal investigation has been launched into the senior staff as well, and there is an ongoing class action lawsuit launched by the parents of students who lost their lives during the event known as the ahem,” He paused, clearing his throat with a subtle roll of his eyes.
“The ‘Chernobog Attack.’” Allowing the words a moment to sink in, he turned his page over and continued to read. “These factors have left the government with no choice but to intervene in what has now been dubbed a misguided social experiment. The Alexandria Foundation has also been denied control of the campus and its land due to being unable to produce a deed. With the deed signed by Dr. Jonas Lehrer absent, Dundas Islands and its subsidiaries revert back to the possession of the Canadian Government.”
“And what about the Alumni village and the homes there?” Aiden Roth’s voice could be heard above the angry voices.
“The Alumni Village will be evaluated for property and real estate value, taxes and land holder fees will be assessed and assigned to those who reside there. It will be absorbed as part of British Columbia and subjected to both provincial and municipal laws.”
“This is our home.”
“You can’t make us leave!”
“These students should be safe to finish their education here.”
“If these students were ‘safe’, none of this would be happening.” The speaker replied, slamming his hands down on the pedestal to bring about order to the assembly. “The issue is that Pacific Royal Collegiate & University is the largest gathering of Hyperhumans in the world in a known and static location. It draws attention of the worst kind to the young and vulnerable.”
“Yeah and the Alexandria Foundation doesn’t have that problem,” Another yelled sarcastically.
“The Alexandria Foundation has made promising improvements to their security and management in the past year that has the full support-”
“Bribed!”
“Full unbiased support of this council.” The speaker added. “There are consequences, and unfortunately this soil has seen a lot of spilled blood. It is the opinion of the council that even one named death should have been enough to close this school, now I am looking at a list that exceeds a single page, with more unconfirmed.” He shook his head.
“Change is difficult to accept, but this is for the better. The world is improving, you do not need the safety of this island.”
At that comment, the crowd exploded. Security swarmed to the representative as they escorted him from the stadium and left the student body to unpack the news.
Immediately following the attack, Jim O’Neil had been removed from his position as Chancellor, with the Director of H.E.L.P., Winter Caspian momentarily stepping in to assume the role for the last week before the Alexandria Foundation had petitioned for P.R.C.U.'s immediate closure. Those in power were more than happy to help, especially the effort’s spearhead who was none other than Senator Garcia de León still mourning the loss of his daughter.
“Students will of course be offered a position at the Alexandria Foundation, and arrangements will be made to transport their belongings at their earliest convenience. Students who decline this offer will be responsible for finding their own arrangements. “ The speaker continued, his voice void of empathy, his body language clearly disgusted even having stepped foot on these ‘cursed’ grounds.
“I suggest you all decide quickly, this campus is now seized by the Canadian Government and a notice of seven days has been issued to residents to clear out. After this time, any lingering students will be seen as trespassing and will be subject to enforcement by local authorities.”
A murmur moved through the student body, anger rose in the din of voices before the speaker continued.
“Former Chancellor James O’Neil has been found guilty on numerous accounts of criminal neglect in his operation of this school and will be facing imprisonment due to lives lost under his command. A formal investigation has been launched into the senior staff as well, and there is an ongoing class action lawsuit launched by the parents of students who lost their lives during the event known as the ahem,” He paused, clearing his throat with a subtle roll of his eyes.
“The ‘Chernobog Attack.’” Allowing the words a moment to sink in, he turned his page over and continued to read. “These factors have left the government with no choice but to intervene in what has now been dubbed a misguided social experiment. The Alexandria Foundation has also been denied control of the campus and its land due to being unable to produce a deed. With the deed signed by Dr. Jonas Lehrer absent, Dundas Islands and its subsidiaries revert back to the possession of the Canadian Government.”
“And what about the Alumni village and the homes there?” Aiden Roth’s voice could be heard above the angry voices.
“The Alumni Village will be evaluated for property and real estate value, taxes and land holder fees will be assessed and assigned to those who reside there. It will be absorbed as part of British Columbia and subjected to both provincial and municipal laws.”
“This is our home.”
“You can’t make us leave!”
“These students should be safe to finish their education here.”
“If these students were ‘safe’, none of this would be happening.” The speaker replied, slamming his hands down on the pedestal to bring about order to the assembly. “The issue is that Pacific Royal Collegiate & University is the largest gathering of Hyperhumans in the world in a known and static location. It draws attention of the worst kind to the young and vulnerable.”
“Yeah and the Alexandria Foundation doesn’t have that problem,” Another yelled sarcastically.
“The Alexandria Foundation has made promising improvements to their security and management in the past year that has the full support-”
“Bribed!”
“Full unbiased support of this council.” The speaker added. “There are consequences, and unfortunately this soil has seen a lot of spilled blood. It is the opinion of the council that even one named death should have been enough to close this school, now I am looking at a list that exceeds a single page, with more unconfirmed.” He shook his head.
“Change is difficult to accept, but this is for the better. The world is improving, you do not need the safety of this island.”
At that comment, the crowd exploded. Security swarmed to the representative as they escorted him from the stadium and left the student body to unpack the news.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Upon returning to their dorms, students would quickly find notices to vacate the premises. Eviction was plastered all over their dorms. A sense of utter hopelessness filled what was lift of the dwindling student body while recruiters from the Foundation set up stations in every hallway, tempting passersby to the rival school.
“Find your identity today with the Alexandria Foundation’s Institute!” They called, displaying the Institute's flotilla style school. Pictures of the Foundation Force were interspersed as ‘inspiration’ and examples of the school’s elite alumni.
“You could be the next Hyperman or Miragal!” The video cheerfully exclaimed.
“Let's hope you’re not the next Triton,” A murmur replied drawing a sharp glance from the recruiter. Hushed agreement filled the hallway as students came and went, some immediately leaving, returning to homes they had waiting, while others paced back and forth on cell phones, before reluctantly signing for the Foundation with nowhere else left to go.
And slowly, P.R.C.U. became a ghost town.
“Find your identity today with the Alexandria Foundation’s Institute!” They called, displaying the Institute's flotilla style school. Pictures of the Foundation Force were interspersed as ‘inspiration’ and examples of the school’s elite alumni.
“You could be the next Hyperman or Miragal!” The video cheerfully exclaimed.
“Let's hope you’re not the next Triton,” A murmur replied drawing a sharp glance from the recruiter. Hushed agreement filled the hallway as students came and went, some immediately leaving, returning to homes they had waiting, while others paced back and forth on cell phones, before reluctantly signing for the Foundation with nowhere else left to go.
And slowly, P.R.C.U. became a ghost town.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Y’all sure keep strange company,” Jim proclaimed as the door opened to reveal Summer Carlyle first followed by none other than Yoshi Nakamura. The interrogation room was small, further emphasized by the pounding wall of sea outside the glass looking out into the depths of the Atlantic.
“Miss Carlyle has her uses.” Nakamura replied before motioning towards her handcuffs, “But I assure you she is still very much a prisoner here.”
The black eye covering one half of Jim’s face throbbing as blood from his split lip pooled against his lower teeth.
“I take it this is the hard way then?” He replied.
“Unfortunately so,” Nakamura responded before taking a seat beside Summer.
“Now where is the deed to Pacific Royal Collegiate and University?”
“Go to hell.”
“Miss Carlyle?” Nakamure asked as Summer’s eyes began to glow, “Proceed.”
Even Jim’s resolve was not enough to stop the scream that followed.
“Miss Carlyle has her uses.” Nakamura replied before motioning towards her handcuffs, “But I assure you she is still very much a prisoner here.”
The black eye covering one half of Jim’s face throbbing as blood from his split lip pooled against his lower teeth.
“I take it this is the hard way then?” He replied.
“Unfortunately so,” Nakamura responded before taking a seat beside Summer.
“Now where is the deed to Pacific Royal Collegiate and University?”
“Go to hell.”
“Miss Carlyle?” Nakamure asked as Summer’s eyes began to glow, “Proceed.”
Even Jim’s resolve was not enough to stop the scream that followed.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
In the Northern Forest beneath a pile of leaves laid a body undiscovered by neither the Hunter nor the concerned family. The student had wandered too far, mistaken for having left the island and so one came further looking for them. A discarded mask and shredded black robes lay on the ground beside her, a bag spilled open to reveal a student card before the body suddenly jerked upright. Limbs previously caught in rigour mortis snapped and popped as new life poured through the empty vessel.
Blackened eyes looked around the dark woods as she shielded her new face from sunlight before standing. The smells, the sounds, the sights, the vessel was weak and required sustenance, or else it would burn out too quickly.
Rolling their head, several cracks could be heard from the neck of their new body, before they looked around eagerly licking their canines, a single utterance escaping from between pursed lips.
“I wonder if mundanes are still just as delicious.”
Blackened eyes looked around the dark woods as she shielded her new face from sunlight before standing. The smells, the sounds, the sights, the vessel was weak and required sustenance, or else it would burn out too quickly.
Rolling their head, several cracks could be heard from the neck of their new body, before they looked around eagerly licking their canines, a single utterance escaping from between pursed lips.
“I wonder if mundanes are still just as delicious.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Dance Monkey #4.089: Down to Hell
Interaction(s): Amma Cahors - @Rockette, Luce Calder - @Roman, Haven Barnes - @Skai
Previously: Move
”Why…can’t you just…fucking leave us alone?!”
Luce’s desperate defiance was lost on the emotionless monster currently leering over her. It neither possessed sympathy nor empathy. All humanity that its host had once possessed was stripped away entirely leaving only a weapon. Though it lacked the subtlety of its predecessor, the Chernobog was seemingly unstoppable.
“Leave you alone?” The Chernobog replied, almost indignant, “You opted to engage me, I didn’t instigate this bloodshed.” Raising a bloodied claw to its mouth, the creature’s long forked tongue flicked out, either side thirsty licking its finger before satisfying smacking its lips at Luce’s taste.
“I would dare say, this has been fun though.”
“Then why let the fun end?” A blinding explosion caused the Chernobog to shield its eyes, staggering backwards as Cassander rejoined the fray, moving between himself and Luce. The Chernobog roared in retaliation, moving to finish Cassander once and for all before a voice stopped it dead in its tracks.
“Take me and end this.” Haven cried, a tear running a line through the blood on her cheek. “Please, no more suffering.”
“Mother,” The Chernobog replied, kneeling to embrace Haven. Its arms wrapped around her like a pair of anacondas before it moved its massive hands to either side of her face and lifted her tear-filled eyes to face its own.
“It’s too late for that now.” He replied. His hands suddenly fell to Haven’s shoulders, reaching past and taking hold of her wings. A pair of sickening snaps echoed through the tense room. Haven dropped to the floor, her dress quickly turning from green to rust-stained as the Chernobog stood over her, a bloody, tattered wing clutched in either hand. Several feathers fluttered to the floor, sticking to the thick crimson spill beside Haven.
“Father only needs your blood.”
Sobs echoed all around the Chernobog as it stood before the massacre it had unleashed. Those not encased in ice were left maimed and beaten. The stench of blood and piss filled a room that previously had smelled like sex and candy.
“Robert,” Jim roared, appealing to the man instead of the beast, “Robert I need you to stop this.”
“There is no Robert left,” The shell of a man spat, “Only Chernobog. You couldn’t save Robert, anymore than you could save any of those who left. Those who never made it home.” A throaty chuckle followed the sinister tone.
“She cried for him, you know? Her lover, her last breath, barely a whimper by the end as Father took the last of her life,” The beast taunted, “‘Andrew!’ It was for ‘Andrew’, ‘Andrew, save me,’.” Each word was emphasized by a mist from the mutant’s cold breath escaping his mouth as if to drive the point home exactly who he was talking about.
“And then without another word, she was gone, soon to be forgotten. Just like you, just like our little Dove.”
Horror and guilt suddenly plagued the winded redhead as she moved a hand to wipe the sweat and blood from her brow. Alyssa hadn’t felt this powerless in a long time as she rested on her blade. She had been too slow to save Luce, too slow to save Haven. She couldn’t afford to hesitate any longer. Locking eyes with Luce, she looked for her approval, but with the pain, Luce’s eyes were fighting to simply stay open.
Her hand moved to the clutch, palmed the smooth stone etched with the Enochian character ‘van’. A parting gift from Ellara, a desperate ploy if they ever needed such. If the Chernobog was near invulnerable to conventional harm, then it was time to send it somewhere unconventional.
“Go to Sheol,”
With a flick of her wrist, Alyssa hurled the disk like stone through the air, the object sticking the Chernobog, transferring the rune to the beast. Pushing herself, Alyssa scrambled to Haven’s fallen form, tackling the girl out of the way as the Chernobog began to glow.
A sphere of energy burst forth from the rune before a vacuum began to consume the creature.
“No!” The Chernobog roared. The scraping of its claws against the floor assaulted the ears of those nearby as it struggled against the inevitable. Its eyes darted to Amma, and in one last desperate move, a hand wrapped around the young woman’s ankle, dragging her off of her feet and along with him.
It wasn’t enough, no matter the melody that hummed away within her heart, no matter the shimmering whisper of golden light that cracked and splintered through obsidian walls, the name spoken from the most profound void of self – it wasn’t enough. Amma screamed and sobbed as final tendrils of her power lifted and spun away from her trembling figure, as some whisked away and found themselves lingering as tendrils of warmth to the rest of her teammates, the last remaining pieces of Ammaranthe as she was and could ever be.
And then they were gone.
Silence fell over the room, just as suddenly as the Chernobog had crashed through the room, it had vanished into the vacuum created by Alyssa. But the damage had been done, and lives had been lost.
Today, Daedalus had won.
Luce’s desperate defiance was lost on the emotionless monster currently leering over her. It neither possessed sympathy nor empathy. All humanity that its host had once possessed was stripped away entirely leaving only a weapon. Though it lacked the subtlety of its predecessor, the Chernobog was seemingly unstoppable.
“Leave you alone?” The Chernobog replied, almost indignant, “You opted to engage me, I didn’t instigate this bloodshed.” Raising a bloodied claw to its mouth, the creature’s long forked tongue flicked out, either side thirsty licking its finger before satisfying smacking its lips at Luce’s taste.
“I would dare say, this has been fun though.”
“Then why let the fun end?” A blinding explosion caused the Chernobog to shield its eyes, staggering backwards as Cassander rejoined the fray, moving between himself and Luce. The Chernobog roared in retaliation, moving to finish Cassander once and for all before a voice stopped it dead in its tracks.
“Take me and end this.” Haven cried, a tear running a line through the blood on her cheek. “Please, no more suffering.”
“Mother,” The Chernobog replied, kneeling to embrace Haven. Its arms wrapped around her like a pair of anacondas before it moved its massive hands to either side of her face and lifted her tear-filled eyes to face its own.
“It’s too late for that now.” He replied. His hands suddenly fell to Haven’s shoulders, reaching past and taking hold of her wings. A pair of sickening snaps echoed through the tense room. Haven dropped to the floor, her dress quickly turning from green to rust-stained as the Chernobog stood over her, a bloody, tattered wing clutched in either hand. Several feathers fluttered to the floor, sticking to the thick crimson spill beside Haven.
“Father only needs your blood.”
Sobs echoed all around the Chernobog as it stood before the massacre it had unleashed. Those not encased in ice were left maimed and beaten. The stench of blood and piss filled a room that previously had smelled like sex and candy.
“Robert,” Jim roared, appealing to the man instead of the beast, “Robert I need you to stop this.”
“There is no Robert left,” The shell of a man spat, “Only Chernobog. You couldn’t save Robert, anymore than you could save any of those who left. Those who never made it home.” A throaty chuckle followed the sinister tone.
“She cried for him, you know? Her lover, her last breath, barely a whimper by the end as Father took the last of her life,” The beast taunted, “‘Andrew!’ It was for ‘Andrew’, ‘Andrew, save me,’.” Each word was emphasized by a mist from the mutant’s cold breath escaping his mouth as if to drive the point home exactly who he was talking about.
“And then without another word, she was gone, soon to be forgotten. Just like you, just like our little Dove.”
Horror and guilt suddenly plagued the winded redhead as she moved a hand to wipe the sweat and blood from her brow. Alyssa hadn’t felt this powerless in a long time as she rested on her blade. She had been too slow to save Luce, too slow to save Haven. She couldn’t afford to hesitate any longer. Locking eyes with Luce, she looked for her approval, but with the pain, Luce’s eyes were fighting to simply stay open.
Her hand moved to the clutch, palmed the smooth stone etched with the Enochian character ‘van’. A parting gift from Ellara, a desperate ploy if they ever needed such. If the Chernobog was near invulnerable to conventional harm, then it was time to send it somewhere unconventional.
“Go to Sheol,”
With a flick of her wrist, Alyssa hurled the disk like stone through the air, the object sticking the Chernobog, transferring the rune to the beast. Pushing herself, Alyssa scrambled to Haven’s fallen form, tackling the girl out of the way as the Chernobog began to glow.
A sphere of energy burst forth from the rune before a vacuum began to consume the creature.
“No!” The Chernobog roared. The scraping of its claws against the floor assaulted the ears of those nearby as it struggled against the inevitable. Its eyes darted to Amma, and in one last desperate move, a hand wrapped around the young woman’s ankle, dragging her off of her feet and along with him.
It wasn’t enough, no matter the melody that hummed away within her heart, no matter the shimmering whisper of golden light that cracked and splintered through obsidian walls, the name spoken from the most profound void of self – it wasn’t enough. Amma screamed and sobbed as final tendrils of her power lifted and spun away from her trembling figure, as some whisked away and found themselves lingering as tendrils of warmth to the rest of her teammates, the last remaining pieces of Ammaranthe as she was and could ever be.
And then they were gone.
Silence fell over the room, just as suddenly as the Chernobog had crashed through the room, it had vanished into the vacuum created by Alyssa. But the damage had been done, and lives had been lost.
Today, Daedalus had won.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Dance Monkey #4.081: Move
Interaction(s): Gil Galahad - @Roman, Haven Barnes - @Skai
Previously: Hysteria
The three pairs of defiant eyes elicited a raised eyebrow beneath the horned brow of the Chernobog. He took a step forward and was immediately met with a flurry of punches and kicks as the Gils made their attempt. Unflinching, the Chernobog continued towards Haven before a kick to his groan managed to get a twitch of annoyance from the looming figure and brought him to a halt. He slowly looked between the shell game of clones before deciding his opening move.
“Pity, I wish there were more of you.” He uttered, the disappointment evident before he moved into action. Grabbing a hold of the first Gil, the Chernobog’s large hand wrapped around and ankle and hoisted the man into the air. The sudden jerk ripping his hip out of its socket before the first clone was smashed into the other. The sound of flesh and bone simultaneously breaking echoed through the frozen walls of students whilst spraying them in a warm crimson mist that emanated steam against the icy surface.
Another swing of the first Gil, this time towards the third left standing before he was scooped into the air and sent cantering into the rafters before collapsing in a heap atop the balcony.
Wrapping a hand around both legs of the Gil he held and another around his neck, the Chernobog tossed his arms hapzardly back, ripping the man in half and spraying Haven with the clone's innards.
“Do you have any more insects to throw at me or are we quite done with this game?” The Chernobog asked, “Amma, Ammaranthe, it matters not, Tiamat consumes all.”
“Bigger than you.” A voice broke through the chaos and suffering as the flickering lights illuminated a head adorned in fiery hair. Stepping forward a blade formed around her hand and quickly cut the train from the floor length dress she had been wearing. Tearing a slit in the side, she kicked her heels to the side, a swirling form of liquid metal wrapping itself her opposite hand.
“Pardon?” The gargoyle asked with a sneer.
“Bigger than you, I have felled bigger than you.”
“I find that unlikely.”
“I assumed you would, which is why I wanted your attention on me and not Lucille Calder.”
“No!” The Chernobog roared, turning to pounce on Haven only to be blocked by a purple shield of energy.
“Together!” Alyssa yelled, darting around the shield as Jim came in beside Haven.
“I’ve got Tyler, but I need you to follow me.” He ordered.
“Can you do that?”
“Pity, I wish there were more of you.” He uttered, the disappointment evident before he moved into action. Grabbing a hold of the first Gil, the Chernobog’s large hand wrapped around and ankle and hoisted the man into the air. The sudden jerk ripping his hip out of its socket before the first clone was smashed into the other. The sound of flesh and bone simultaneously breaking echoed through the frozen walls of students whilst spraying them in a warm crimson mist that emanated steam against the icy surface.
Another swing of the first Gil, this time towards the third left standing before he was scooped into the air and sent cantering into the rafters before collapsing in a heap atop the balcony.
Wrapping a hand around both legs of the Gil he held and another around his neck, the Chernobog tossed his arms hapzardly back, ripping the man in half and spraying Haven with the clone's innards.
“Do you have any more insects to throw at me or are we quite done with this game?” The Chernobog asked, “Amma, Ammaranthe, it matters not, Tiamat consumes all.”
“Bigger than you.” A voice broke through the chaos and suffering as the flickering lights illuminated a head adorned in fiery hair. Stepping forward a blade formed around her hand and quickly cut the train from the floor length dress she had been wearing. Tearing a slit in the side, she kicked her heels to the side, a swirling form of liquid metal wrapping itself her opposite hand.
“Pardon?” The gargoyle asked with a sneer.
“Bigger than you, I have felled bigger than you.”
“I find that unlikely.”
“I assumed you would, which is why I wanted your attention on me and not Lucille Calder.”
“No!” The Chernobog roared, turning to pounce on Haven only to be blocked by a purple shield of energy.
“Together!” Alyssa yelled, darting around the shield as Jim came in beside Haven.
“I’ve got Tyler, but I need you to follow me.” He ordered.
“Can you do that?”
"Quem com ferro fere, com ferro será ferido."
Location: New York City - New York, U.S.A.
Concrete Jungle #1.02: Power Princess
Interaction(s): None
Previously: City of Gods
Panic had begun to set in over the city as Yara emerged onto the street. News choppers raced overhead heading South West from Manhattan’s center back in the direction her train had come from. The skies overhead had become dark, as winds whipped between the towering buildings tossing the hood of her sweater about and whipping her long black hair across her face.
Tying it back quickly, the yoga pants-clad young woman shielded her eyes from dust and wind while watching the helicopters overhead, a news broadcast blaring from a nearby radio.
“...Several tourists have been swept into the waters of the New York Harbour surrounding the Statue of Liberty as reports of unforeseen swells are threatening to break the flood wall surrounding the island.”
Pulling her hood over her head, Yara didn’t hesitate a moment longer. She knew she could help those people and could likely get on the scene faster than either the Coast Guard or Search and Rescue in the current conditions.
Her hood lasted all of five seconds before it fell, but it didn’t matter as Yara took her first leap, leaving the street behind as she leapt a tall building in a single bound. The crowd below let out a sound of ‘awe’ and while Yara knew she wasn’t the Superman of Metropolis, it still felt good to elicit some wonder from people.
Renata would be less than pleased, but she’d never been able to stop Yara from helping in the past. After all, of those who had much, much was demanded. And it’s not like the superpowered young woman wanted to watch as people drowned. In New York, she was a nobody, just a face in the crowd. She could be a hero here because people wouldn’t remember the person, they’d remember the act.
In Boise, she was defined by who she was, but in New York, she could be defined by what she did.
Bounding across rooftops, it didn’t take Yara long to reach the Bay. Skidding to a stop, she paused, looking down at the waves and taking a deep breath.
She could swim.
She could. Her internal monologue repeated as the Brazilian woman reassured herself. Swallowing, she dove from the rooftop, over the barrier and the pier, launching herself into the Bay. Whistling air was suddenly replaced by the water’s cold embrace as Yara felt the shock nearly force the air from her lungs.
But the water felt almost homely, even soaking through her clothes, Yara felt connected to the water and suddenly it propelled her forward like a helping friend. She crossed the gap toward the island in what felt like no time at all before her arms were wrapping around the first victim.
“Hold on, sir,” Yara yelled over the waves and wind, “I’ve got you.”
Tying it back quickly, the yoga pants-clad young woman shielded her eyes from dust and wind while watching the helicopters overhead, a news broadcast blaring from a nearby radio.
“...Several tourists have been swept into the waters of the New York Harbour surrounding the Statue of Liberty as reports of unforeseen swells are threatening to break the flood wall surrounding the island.”
Pulling her hood over her head, Yara didn’t hesitate a moment longer. She knew she could help those people and could likely get on the scene faster than either the Coast Guard or Search and Rescue in the current conditions.
Her hood lasted all of five seconds before it fell, but it didn’t matter as Yara took her first leap, leaving the street behind as she leapt a tall building in a single bound. The crowd below let out a sound of ‘awe’ and while Yara knew she wasn’t the Superman of Metropolis, it still felt good to elicit some wonder from people.
Renata would be less than pleased, but she’d never been able to stop Yara from helping in the past. After all, of those who had much, much was demanded. And it’s not like the superpowered young woman wanted to watch as people drowned. In New York, she was a nobody, just a face in the crowd. She could be a hero here because people wouldn’t remember the person, they’d remember the act.
In Boise, she was defined by who she was, but in New York, she could be defined by what she did.
Bounding across rooftops, it didn’t take Yara long to reach the Bay. Skidding to a stop, she paused, looking down at the waves and taking a deep breath.
She could swim.
She could. Her internal monologue repeated as the Brazilian woman reassured herself. Swallowing, she dove from the rooftop, over the barrier and the pier, launching herself into the Bay. Whistling air was suddenly replaced by the water’s cold embrace as Yara felt the shock nearly force the air from her lungs.
But the water felt almost homely, even soaking through her clothes, Yara felt connected to the water and suddenly it propelled her forward like a helping friend. She crossed the gap toward the island in what felt like no time at all before her arms were wrapping around the first victim.
“Hold on, sir,” Yara yelled over the waves and wind, “I’ve got you.”
| - -First Issue: City of Gods | - | - | - | Next Issue: Hell Or High Water- | - | Latest Issue: Power Princess |
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
You have no intention of that and you know it
Not in the next post...
I promise Jason Blood and Etrigan will appear in this story...
Eventually?
Eventually?
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