Lord Wraith

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{| Several Weeks from Now}

Cold.

Lorcán was cold.

And he didn’t like it.

With his powers absent, his body temperature was running lower, the ambient temperature around him much more evident and for the first time in his life, he even saw his breath as the night dew began to settle on the long grass and leaves that surrounded him on this mirrored image of Dundas Island.

He forged ahead, following Ellara’s lead as she guided himself, Gil and Aurora through Ünterland. Looking up at the dark boughs that made up the forest canopy, Lorcán was instantly transported back to the Northern Forest on his Dundas Island. Images of the Wendigo that attacked him quickly overwhelmed his mind and he found himself taking a breather against a nearby tree before insisting to Aurora that he was fine.

She reluctantly accepted before they caught up to the rest of the party, breaching the top of the cliffs that should have looked down on the campus. Instead, Lorcán’s eyes were greeted by a walled town, built centrally around a mansion that resembled the Administration building.

Smoke carrying the aroma of warm hardwoods burning in open hearths drifted over the crimson horizon while the faint undertones of meat on an open flame and freshly baked pastry all present a tantalizing aroma that drew Lorcán forward before Ellara held up a hand.

“You run in there with your mouth watering and you’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” She snapped towards Lorcán. “This island is under protection of the Pack, and is occupied by such, we don’t know what manner of Hellion live within those walls.”

“I thought Hellions were just mindless beasts,” Lorcán inquired, “Like the thing that attacked me in the forest.”

“The vast majority survive off instinct and desire, consumed by their unterseele, but there are those that are sentient, some that were even once seen as human. Some still are passable, at least under the right conditions.” Ellara warned, “Play disinterested and standoffish, they can literally smell fear and they sure as hell can smell Midyeden all over you.”

Ellara held her hand steady, her eyes surveying the walled village again before she uttered a final warning.

“And for your friend’s sake, pray the Jarl isn’t a bloody vamp.”

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Alumni Village - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Human #5.025: Island on Fire

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Who's Got It?

^{| Present}

Awakening with a start, the room around Lorcán looked almost foreign as his eyes took in the pitched ceiling. Sunlight streamed in from the side and boxes sat piled up in the corner from where Lorcán had transported the last of his belongings from the Canis dorm back to the Roth house.

Aurora was down the hall, settling into her own room while his parents' bedroom was on the ground floor, built into an extension off the back of the house that gave them their own private suite.

The house was quiet.

The island was quiet.

No bugle to awaken the campus, no throng of students hustling to the Mess Hall to chow down on the breakfast buffet. No Hyperball in the quad, no students taking the horses out along the trails. Even the Alumni Village where the Roth House resided was still, the morning dew completely undisturbed.

Climbing out of bed, Lorcán threw on a tanktop and his boardshorts before slipping his feet into his flip flops and tucking his mane of hair under a backward ball cap. The sun was barely cresting above the horizon, but he wanted to get in some waves before departing for Crestwood Hollow with Aurora.

Last night had gotten far more tense than Lorcán had ever anticipated that it would. The confrontation with Katja left him second guessing so much about the time he spent getting to know her. If Katja of all people could be seduced to join a terrorist organization, what hope did the rest of them have? Or perhaps, Katja was far better at wearing a mask than she ever let on.

His board drifted out into the water as Lorcán climbed atop it and paddle out towards some swells.

What if Amma had been there? Katja had spent a lot of time around Amma in the short time she had been at P.R.C.U., seemingly trying to force a friendship with the smaller, raven-haired woman. Had they ever truly been friends? Or was Katja just trying to recruit Amma? Amma was exactly the kind of destructive force Hyperion would have been drawn to during his reign, it only made sense his followers too would seek similar parties out.

Amma Cahors, the girl who never got to have fun.

Did she even have a tombstone? What would it even say?

Here she doesn’t lie because she was dragged into the abyss.

If there was any justice in the universe, then whatever boat Katja boarded on her way to the Foundation would find itself at the bottom of the Atlantic. Lorcán only regretted that Harper of all people was also stuck going to that forsaken place. Haven and Rory would hopefully find their happy ending elsewhere, but Harper had no positive prospects.

The crash of the waves was like a melody and Lorcán himself became the harmony as he darted between the swells, cutting across the water and shooting through tube after tube of top quality surf. It was almost as though the island itself was saying goodbye to him, sending him off in the best way it could.

His stomach growled as she finally came ashore, looking back out over the seemingly endless Pacific one last time before picking his board up and heading back to his parents’ house.

Hopefully someone made bacon.

<sup>_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

| A Week From Now</sup>

“Yeah, you like heard that guy back at P.R.C.U. The Foundation lost the school because they didn’t procure the deed, if we had the deed we could save the school.” Lorcán replied, looking at the building.

“But I guess that was just wishful thinking.”

“Nothing wrong with trying to stay positive, Leo,” Cass replied with a shrug, “But I doubt this is something you can just force. For the life of me, I just can’t figure out why this school wasn’t torn down or the grounds turned into something else. I get that it’s a historical building, but you’d think the city would do something with it.”

“Unless,” Lorcán’s eyes lit up again, “They can’t?”

“Oh c’mon,” Cass groaned as Lorcán began to excitedly pace.

“We both know that Jonas involuntarily traveled through time during the course of his life. What if he knew exactly what was going to befall P.R.C.U. and planned for it. Dude, this could have been the plan all along,”

“But if your Dad had the deed, for either school, he would have said so.” Cass argued, “So you’re still without any sort of claim for either, oh mighty Prince.”

“But Jonas wouldn’t give the deed to my Dad.” Lorcán replied, shaking his head.

“Then who?”

“If I like, recall my P.R.C.U. history correctly, Jonas originally taught a class of eight Hyperhumans here to use their abilities which ultimately led to the creation of Pacific Royal,” Lorcán began, Cass watching the wheels turn.

“My dad always describes them as like a ‘secret study group’ dedicated to honing their abilities and discovering the identity of Vanessa Bordeaux’s killer. Her brother was in that group, if anyone owns what’s left of Mather, it’d wager it’s him.”

“So say you’re right,” Cass started, “Say Bordeaux has the deed to this school. Why would he give it to us? Wasn’t there always bad blood between Viktor and Uncle Aiden?”

“This building is derelict, no one cares about it.” Lorcán gestured towards a broken window and the crumbling brick around it. “But with Hyperhuman abilities, we could surely bring it back to life, retrofit it, and start a small Hyperhuman school right here in Crestwood Hollow. ‘The Crestwood Academy for the Gifted’. There’s a vision here for a fresh start.”

“And who’s going to teach?” Cass deadpanned, “No way anyone from P.R.C.U. wants to get caught back up in this mess, and that’s not including those who jumped ship to the Foundation.”

“We are.” Lorcán replied, “We’ll teach, face it, it doesn’t have to be the flashiest school, it doesn’t need to be P.R.C.U., it just needs to be safe.”

“Leo, I don’t know, what about money-”

“If we can get Viktor Bordeaux on board, I’m sure we can get him to financially back us from his family money, and my parents will be on board, my Dad could even be the Principal. Plus Uncle Calvin is a contractor-”

“Yeah, but he’s not a Hype,” Cass interjected, “Not that he wouldn’t help, but not exactly the superhuman speed you’re looking for.”

“No point in rushing this, I still have a promise to keep to Gil and we’ll have to figure out how to get people to trust us after P.R.C.U.” Lorcán mused while rubbing his chin.

“How are you going to work in Vancouver and restore a school in New Hampshire? Won’t that push ‘Rora’s abilities to the brink?” Cass asked, “Even if you’re just coming on weekends, that’s a long way for her to ‘port herself, let alone both of you.”

“They only mothballed H.E.L.P., everything is still there,” Lorcán replied, a glimmer in his eye as Cass’ own widened.

“C’mon, no, there’s no way.”

“Oh yes.” Lorcán replied.

“We’re going to steal an Albatross.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

The fire dwindled and one by one, the remaining members of Blackjack departed, final words hanging in the air like the smoke from the now simmering coals.

The future remained uncertain, the atmosphere sense and the mood sour. Blackjack, Eclipse, the last of the teams to formally end, names that echoed across the campus. Firebird had long since packed and left, Raindance only had their drop to Gil to complete before leaving. Bulltrue, the Nice Guys and the rest were gone leaving behind ransacked dorms, discarded uniforms and forgotten armbands.

Bonds that were to be unbreakable, bonds that Hyperion sought to exploit to build an army were left strained and shattered. With the school that brought them together gone, they were adrift and rudderless.

Many even homeless.

In the morning the ferry departed one last time, taking the students to the mainland. Some departed, heading home or to forge their own path while the rest were boarded aboard an aircraft and flown across the country before departing on another vessel bound for the infamous Foundation.

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Foundation Institute - Atlantic Ocean}

Human #5.024: Madness

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Before You Go

Salt.

Salt was the overwhelming smell as the transfers from Pacific Royal were docked at the Foundation’s floating Institute. A flotilla of interconnected pods capable of diving or separating at a moment’s notice, it was a far cry from the forested grounds that surrounded the Pacific Royal campus.

Here, everything was identical. There was no mix-match of modern and classical architecture, character in general had been stripped away and replaced with function. Entering into the docking pod, students were greeted by attendants who immediately handed each student a pair of white scrubs before pointing them to line up for changing stations. Murmurs of discontent quickly rippled through the confused and angered students.

Outbursts were quickly met with reprimand. There seemed to be little choice but to comply as beyond the door they had entered only the endless fathoms of the ocean remained. The stainless outfits reeked of bleach, spartan designs void of any sense of personality; let alone the promised individuality, blended their wearers with the sterile walls and floors that surrounded them while blinding lights illuminated every visible blemish on each of the students.

“When you have changed, please deposit your personal belongings to the right for inspection. Everything that passes inspection will be returned to your assigned room. When you have completed this, please line up for your student identification.”

Several students quickly complied, lining up as they adjusted their hair and anticipating a picture before approaching the counter that awaited them.

“Please place your left wrist in the hole to your left, underside facing up.” The attendant behind the counter stated as the first girl approached. Confused, she hesitantly complied before the opening suddenly clamped around her wrist.

Letting out a timid squeak she relaxed as her hand was scanned. A whir echoed beneath the din of the disgruntled room before the girl let out a blood-curdling scream. The smell of burning flesh cut through the overpowering odour of bleach, singeing the nose hairs of the gathered students. Her knees buckled beneath her, tears streaming down her face before the clamp suddenly retracted, releasing the girl. She slumped to the floor, cradling her wrist against her chest as the next in line knelt down to check on her.

A ten-digit number had been branded into her wrist with a barcode directly beneath it. Beneath the skin, there was a faint glow before it disappeared.

“Please move along, next!” The attendant ordered as the horrified students backed away. But still, there was no further option for escape. They were only delaying the inevitable.

“Next.” The attendant stated again, her hand hovering above a button out of view of the students before another girl gave her head a shake and stepped up. Defiantly putting her hand into the hole, she looked at the attendant before speaking.

“Do it.”

The laser ignited and she let out a whimper but refused to break eye contact as the smell of her own burning flesh threatened to empty the contents of the girl’s stomach. Pre-emptive sobs came from a couple of the students, while others began to hyperventilate. Few were lucky enough to be blessed with the durability to withstand the pain.

One by one, the former Pacific Royal students were painfully inducted into the Foundation, moving beyond the room before entering into a large common space that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a prison. Tables dotted the central area while a contained balcony above offered a viewing for current students who watched the PRCUers enter their school.

Unlike the uniform-wearing Pacific Royal students, the Foundation students watching were garbed in fitted and armoured uniforms, not unlike those worn during Practical Ability Training back on the island. Murmurs of ‘fresh meat’ echoed from the balcony as the current students sized up the incoming students. Their eyes hungrily evaluated who amongst them was strong and who was prey.

Around the base of the balcony, large colourful banners were suspended above the floor. Each depicted a member of the Institute who had been inducted into the Foundation Force, the banner emblazoned with their alias.

Hyperman

Miragal

Excaliblur

Crimson Crooner

Steel Shell

Day Tripper

Triton

Tiamat.

Amma’s face looked down on the students from Pacific Royal, her jet-black hair blown out and voluminous in the banner as a revealing leather number left just enough to the imagination. Her trademark red and silver crackling energy filled the image, leaving her hauntingly lifelike, near exactly as they had all last seen her.

“Keep it moving!” The yell came from behind the Pacific Royal group, another attendant directing them out of the common space.

“You’re to report to temporary holding.” He ordered, “Solitary until evaluations are complete. When the door opens, you’re free to report to your quarters.”

As the man explained, the ground entered into a hallway lined with doors on either side. Each opening to reveal a small room no more than three feet wide, by three feet deep. Completely soundproofed to isolate their occupant with enough space to allow a person to sit and wait. A bench laid mounted against the far wall before each student was placed into a holding cell and the door was closed.

Seconds later the lights went out and only darkness remained amongst the silence.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by mattmanganon>

I set up for @Lord Wraith who's gonna move things on with me.

@Sep

Hear hear

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{| 1984}

The crisp fall air hung over the New Hampshire valley as the fog slowly faded into the daylight, the sleepy hamlet coming to life as summer’s haze departed and autumn’s chill set in. The morning dew tickled the soles of shoes as students returned after two months away to Mather Memorial High School, moving in shambling hordes across the athletic fields towards the borderline ancient brick building.

With his hands firmly tucked in the pockets of his worn leather jacket, the sandy-haired young man moved deliberately slower than his peers as he approached the dreaded institution. The only saving grace for Aiden Roth was that it was his final year in Crestwood Hollow and then he was gone.

He could leave this place behind.

No more having to mooch off his sister and her overly positive fiancé, no more being reminded of the place where his parents had just up and abandoned them one day. Gone, free to forge his own path, just him and his girl against the world.

His eyes were drawn to a crowd of navy and black as they hollered and celebrated their return to these forsaken grounds. The jocks were particularly fired up for the start of this school year, riding on the coattails of last year’s championship win. The letterman jacket may as well have been a crown at this point and the Mather Memorial Ravens were practically carried by their peers across the field.

“Caw, caw, pisser!”

Aiden turned to the sound of the familiar voice. It felt like forever ago that he had been one of these blowhards. But the coach didn’t want a delinquent on his team and after Aiden’s arrest, he had been kicked off. His life had improved for it, but that didn’t seem to excuse him from the harassment of his former teammates.

“Hey, steal any more cars over the summer?”

The young man rolled his eyes, ignoring their jeers while walking. The bell sounded, signalling the start of the day. Before suddenly Aiden’s arm was grabbed and he found himself spun around. Those of another suddenly met his lips and Aiden felt his body relax as his hands found their way to his girlfriend’s hips.

“Please tell me you weren’t about to just walk by and not say hi to me,” Vanessa teased, a glint of mischief in her eyes. How Aiden, the loser from the wrong side of town who was caught jacking a car ended up landing the Princess of Mather Memorial was beyond him. One of a pair of fraternal twins, Vanessa Bordeaux was from the ‘Belle’ side of Crestwood Hollow and her bedroom alone was about the size of the apartment that Aiden shared with his sister.

The Bordeaux family were among the richest and most powerful families in Crestwood Hollow and while her brother Viktor tolerated Aiden’s presence as his sister’s boyfriend, their relationship was primarily viewed as an act of rebellion by both Vanessa’s sibling and her parents.

“Who do y’think that is?” Vanessa asked while hanging off of Aiden’s arm, motioning with a bounce of her chin towards a man climbing off a motorcycle in the parking lot. He pulled the helmet off to reveal a shaved head before removing the armoured leather jacket.

Aiden felt his eyes meet with the stranger’s, a shiver travelling down his spine before the unknown man unfastened a satchel from the back of the bike and slung it over his shoulder.

“Must be a teacher,” Aiden replied, his answer somewhere between a grunt and a mutter.

“Think we need more teachers like that,” Vanessa giggled before giving a playful tug on Aiden’s similar leather jacket. “You ever considered it?”

“Ain’t no way I’m ever becoming a teacher.”

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Pacific Royal Campus Beach - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Human #5.019: Who's Got It?

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Katja Kruger - @Zoldyck}

Previously: Nothing Special

^{| Earlier that Day}

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Aiden looked up to see his wife’s smiling face as she took a seat beside him, following his gaze to the fountain in front of the administration building.

“Y’know, some women would be upset if you spend so much time with your ex-girlfriend.” She teased as Aiden looked at the dedication to Vanessa Bordeaux. She had been killed by her best friend, Autumn Miracle, the first known protégé of Yakob Kowalski. She had also had the ability to impart Hyperhuman abilities in others.

Aiden himself only had abilities because of Vanessa. The original eight all only had their abilities because of Vanessa. Her house party, the night of her murder, they had all been there and in their interactions with Vanessa that night, she bestowed her gift, or for some, her curse. Aiden, Minnie, Summer, Viktor, Rita, Emma, Sebastian and…

He paused. There were eight houses, eight students from Crestwood and yet, Aiden for the life of himself couldn’t remember his final classmate. Glimpses of a figure, a voice, a laugh. Pain, panic, tears and fears all hovered at the edge of his mind, just out of reach of his memory.

Aiden recognized Summer’s handiwork, but why would she have hidden one of their friends from him, from them? Questions formed rapidly in his mind, threatening to consume him before a gentle tug at his arm stirred him back to the moment.

“I’m just teasing, Love,” Tori stated gently, leaning her head against his arm. “You really think we’ve lost this time?”

“Jonas didn’t leave me the deed,” Aiden replied sadly, “Not that you’re asking but I know it’s the question everyone wants the answer to.”

“I knew you would have told me if you had it.” Tori replied, “I think we should send the kids to Crestwood, they’ll be safer with Alexis and Calvin while we figure things out. Think you’ll continue teaching?”

“A Hyperhuman teacher?” Aiden’s mouth turned up slightly in a wry grin that had been inherited by his son. “No, I still have a couple connections in law enforcement, I should be able to secure a job there. Won’t be pretty but it should be more than enough money to keep us stable. Maybe present an opportunity to find out what the Foundation’s real angle is.”

“Promise me you’ll be safe, we’ve lost too much already and I can’t lose my husband, let alone abide by my son losing his father. It’s not just Lorcán that needs you either, Cassander, Ripley, even Aurora all look to you.”

“I know.” Aiden whispered, “And I will be.”

“What about Jim?” Tori asked, “Do you think he knows?”

“I’m not sure Jim ever had a relationship with Jonas, but if Kowalski had the deed, then there’s only one person alive who knows where it is.” Aiden paused, his wife’s eyes meeting his before he spoke the name she knew was coming.

“Summer Carlyle.”

<sup>_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

| Present</sup>

Lorcán returned to the fire as Benny gratefully left. While not everyone on the team shared his feelings of animosity towards their Australian classmate, Lorcán took particular issue with the fact that Andrew didn’t even take the proper time to learn to say Aurora’s name, instead always referring to her by a term that felt vaguely sexual.

He had often assumed Andrew felt some sort of kindred spirit with Aurora and now that Calliope was gone, Lorcán didn’t want to give Andrew any reason to try to get any closer to his girl.

One look at Aurora told him that whatever Andrew had said while departing had further upset her. He looked from Rory to Aurora again, taking one last look over his shoulder at Gil before a quick headcount told him that the remaining Eclipse members had departed either before or along with Benny.

Every eye around the fire was locked on Katja, watching what she did next. It didn’t take a genius to piece together that her presence was what had caused tempers to flare. He caught a few words here and there, the dilemma at hand, but no matter the outcome, no part in Katja remaining would quell the fires between her and those who remained.

“Uh, brah, I think you should leave.” Lorcán said, looking from Haven and Rory to Aurora again. Their eyes burning, tears welled up in the corners while Harper sat with her head low, a wrap around her eyes. It was odd, Lorcán didn’t recall being told that Harper was severely injured during the Chernobog’s attack, yet here she was with bandaged eyes mirroring the injuries sustained by Haven and Rory.

Katja had been at P.R.C.U. every bit as long as Haven and Rory, and certainly longer than either GIl or Harper. Lorcán had played Hyperball alongside her and against her many times. He shared fond memories of the field with her and Rory, but now those memories were tainted. If she truly had been the traitor Rory claimed, was their entire friendship a ruse? A means to an end to garner their trust and convert them? Hyperion had murdered Jonas, Lorcán’s grandfather, in cold blood.

Lorcán didn’t need Rory to cite his sources, he couldn’t care less about emotions running high. Katja had no excuse, she had lived through everything Blackjack had gone through, the Trials, Hyperion’s attack, Banjo, but now they all stood at a crossroad.

“There’s enough bad blood without you bringing more.” Lorcán replied, thinking back to his conversation with Gil and knowing Katja’s fondness for Amma. She could never be allowed to learn of their pact.

“I hope the tide brings you to calmer waters, but the tide did not bring you here.” He added, “Perhaps you’ll be a better fit at the Foundation, but you’re no P.R.C.Uer, and you’re definitely not part of Blackjack.”

<sup>_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

| A Week from Now</sup>

Tall metal fences were placed on feet surrounding the building on the other side of the unkept field. What had once been home to numerous athletics now laid overgrown and abandoned just like the crumbling brick building. Following Cass’ lead, Lorcán looked around before using his abilities to boost himself over the fence.

Ripley and Aurora were off being treated to a girl’s day alongside Aiden’s sister, Alexis. With Lorcán’s uncle, Calvin, at work, that left the two boys to come up with their own fun. Someone that involved going to Mather Memorial Secondary School.

“This,” Cassander stated, landing in the grass with a heavy thud before Lorcán dropped to the ground gracefully beside him. “This is where it all began.”

“Careful, you almost sound reverent, dude.” Lorcán teased. “You uh, ever talk to Harper after the dance?”

“No.” Cassander replied quickly, his tone telling Lorcán to leave it alone. But Lorcán wasn’t that perceptive.

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in long distance, and I’m definitely not going to the Foundation. Plus, she’s been different since the dance. I thought she was cute, I flirted a little, but with everything going on with her…” His voice trailed off, but the implications were obvious. Cass didn’t like to be attached or weighed down. Lorcán knew his cousin had been tentative towards dating to begin with, but Harper certainly came with some baggage to put it lightly.

“Plus, you and ‘Rora said she’s now Haven’s sister or something? So like, if you and Rora get married and then she and I worked it out, that’s one twisted family tree.”

“I’d be related to Rory!” Lorcán exclaimed only for Cassander to raise an eyebrow at just how excitedly the young man had reacted.

“You think Rory and Haven would stay together?”

“It’s not like he’s getting with Katja anytime soon, but eh, I don’t know.” Lorcán replied before the pair emerged from the long grass and looked up at the decrypted building. A wry smile crossed Lorcán’s face before he responded again.

“I can’t even imagine going here.” He let out a low whistle, “When was this place even built?”

“The brick over here is stamped with 1654.” Cass replied, “It was a courthouse during the Witch Trials.”

“Rad.”

“So this is where your Dad met Jonas?” Cass asked, “Why’d you want to come here?”

“Just was hoping that maybe Jonas would pop up here, I’d love to ask him where he hid the deed.” Lorcán sigh wistfully. It was true, given Jonas’ penchant for showing up whenever he needed help, he had thought he could force an appearance by going to a place where Jonas had been. He dug his hands into his pockets, his left curling around the strange object Jonas had previously gifted him as it hummed in his pocket.

“The deed?” Cass asked, shooting his cousin a confused look.

“Yeah, you like heard that guy back at P.R.C.U. The Foundation lost the school because they didn’t procure the deed, if we had the deed we could save the school.” Lorcán replied looking at the building.

“But I guess that was just wishful thinking.”

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<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.

@Sep

This is my kind of advice.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

I should get an Iris post out over the next two days which will progress the event

@Sep

Once you do this, I'll look at how to further involve Yara since she's been made redundant currently.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{| The Black Forest, Germany - Several 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.”

<sup>_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

| Vancouver, British Columbia - A Few Weeks from Now</sup>

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.

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.

“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?”

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Pacific Royal Campus Beach - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Human #5.008: Nothing Special

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Aurora Mitchell - @Melissa}

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.

<sup>_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

| Several Weeks from Now</sup>

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.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{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.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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.

^{_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

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 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.

^{_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

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.

^{_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

“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.

^{_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

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.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{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.