Mirandae

The Spirits Within/Aeon

Oh man this takes me back. Is there any room for a long time player lol?

@Archangel89

Always :)

The Spirits Within/Aeon

Tagging everyone who posted in the interest check: @Martian@Shovel@RezonanceV@RisingSun@Prosaic@Garden Gnome

The Spirits Within/Aeon

Image here

_{N A M E " N I C K N A M E " S U R N A M E
◄ AGE ▎ HEIGHT ►}

_{P R E S E N C E}

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This section is for appearance description, notes on personality and behavior, or anything else you might think of that is related. A note on character images: I prefer 'realistic' images of people. I know that everyone has their preference and some are uncomfortable with one or the other. I ask that you try, at least, and then we can speak if there is an issue. I can help you with finding an image, if that makes it easier.

_{C H R O N I C L E}

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This is any noteworthy event in your character's life so far. You choose how much you want to disclose here. The only requirement is a few words about their time in the United Defense Force, and what kind of reputation they have built for themselves.

_{F O R C E}

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This section is optional. Here you can describe what kind of weapons your character uses, what kind of magic and techniques they favor, and anything else related to violence. You will likely mention these things in character posts, if you are not into setting things up beforehand.

_{T R I V I A}

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Anything about your character or relation to other characters can go in here.

Click 'raw' at the right top corner of this post to see the code.

The Spirits Within/Aeon

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P R E M I S E 》 A comet arrived ten years ago. Humanity attempted to destroy it but failed. However, the celestial body assumed an orbit around the planet as a new satellite in addition to three moons. The comet was close enough to constantly bombard the world with debris. The thing acted as a sentient being, as it slowed and increased its velocity at will. The rocks that fell onto the planet were infected with hostile life that began to spread. The United Defense Force (UDF) was created as a response to the invasion. The war with the alien lifeforms was unlike anything the world had seen. New strategies and intelligence were required. Military resources of various nations were directed to the United Defense Force. Several divisions and specialized groups emerged in the coming years in order to adapt to the threat. The infection caused by debris from the comet was a type of fungus. Spores and insects assumed presence in infected areas of the bombardment. People came to call this infection the Stigma, because it mutated wildlife and humans alike. Infected beings turned into alien lifeforms if they did not die. The infection also attracted interest from various corporations that invested in weapons manufacturing. Unmarked military forces have been seen extracting samples and capturing infected people all around the world. The presence of this threat caused a mass migration of Spirits. These are entities of energy that exist in all things in the world. People who already had an affinity for spirit possession became hosts to even more of them. These individuals are known as Aeon. They are able to express the collective power of spirits as Magic. The initial strategy of the UDF was to distribute Aeons evenly across its military forces, but the dent in the enemy was marginal. An idea for a special task force consisting of only Aeons emerged. The Special Warfare and Reconnaissance Group were created to meet the needs of the UDF where ordinary measures could not. The Special Warfare and Reconnaissance Group has seen two iterations since its birth and has now reached its third edition. A legendary Aeon has recently gone dark and cannot be reached. The UDF fears that this asset has been compromised by the Voice. A new team of Aeons is to be gathered and recover the asset at any cost. You will portray a character in this group.

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@Salsa Verde
Hah, mocking the old dynamic to lighten the tension. That's a nervous defense mechanism in some people, isn't it? Maybe Hanna has that, which, now that I think about it, works pretty well for her.

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HANNA WILLIAMSON █ act one: way down we go p. johnson's @nodogs@sweven7@Salsa Verde ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Hanna kept on smiling at it all. It was strangely satisfying to take part of this endeavor, already. She was taken back by the thought or reaction to her own state of mind. This was just the right refresher, the breather, the break she needed from that fucking cesspool of a city she came from. Being near to Jack felt oddly natural, as if they had met a hundred times before this moment. There was a kind of mutual understanding of whatever atmosphere they were in, or perhaps the attitude towards it. Hanna flung a quick glance at the bartender and ordered a drink: "Vodka Orange, please." She said and turned her attention right back at the close company. "Yeah, fuck Meir, creeping up on people like that." Hanna said and threw the guy a wink along with a playful smirk. She clearly followed up on Jack's jumpiness and tried to lighten the atmosphere with a little friendly banter. Her attention was all theirs for a few seconds before everyone that were invited seemingly welled in all at the same time. "I hope so. Looking this good ain't easy, you know." She responded, lightheartedly, to Meir while receiving her drink from the bartender. Hanna was distracted by Jack's musings and conversation with the bartender. She had a tendency to stare at people and observe their emotional state. Hanna's eyes sailed between Jack and the bartender in their conversation about a person who worked or works there. Maya, huh... Hanna thought to herself. Ever since some point back in school, a point that Hanna could not recall, there had been some looming suspicion that Jack's taste leaned heavily towards the home team. The thought sprung to Hanna's mind again, as it had back then. Although, she had an entirely different attitude towards it this time around. Ever since her fifteen minutes of fame while cheating on her boyfriend with a chick, it had become ever so apparent that Hanna did not mind intimacy with either team. A familiar ruckus interrupted the moment. Those well loved and perhaps hated colors could only be sported properly by one man, and one man only. Hanna had plenty of crazy experiences and memories with the old gang, for better and worse, but none of them quite measured up to the shit this guy did back in the days. "OH MY GOD, yes!" Hanna exclaimed with overwhelming excitement almost jumped into Connor's arms for a warm hug. The sensational dopamine burst easily distracted Hanna's simple brain from noticing many of the other familiar faces that slipped into the place during the fleeting moments. "This guy had brain damage long before we graduated," Hanna chuckled at Jack's snappy response. "Maybe a bit tight around the waist. Dad bod already, huh? Kinda hot, though." Hanna smiled and returned to her seat next to Jack, taking a sip from her drink. It was difficult for Hanna to miss Freya's entrance, seeing as they spoke or met almost every week back in NYC through work. However, in that mundane although welcome sight of a familiar face, Hanna noticed some kind of reaction in Meir when the Norse Goddess entered. Despite not being a mind reader or witch of famous kind, Hanna was emotionally smart enough to see that something positive yet distressing happened in the poor boy. "What's with you, Meir? You look nervous." Hanna said and took another sip of her drink, eyes intently starting at Meir. "My former so called friends aren't coming to this, so no need to worry." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

The Spirits Within / Aeon (Interest)

Okay, I'll let this sit for a bit more before putting up an OOC. Hopefully, we've got some lurkers here that want to see the full thing before deciding anything.

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Bump. We staying healthy? My time perception is wonky as fuck. Feels like the IC started 2 weeks ago.

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Fixed some typos and spelling shit in my post. Jesus, writing is really down the toilet after some time away.

@Sweven7
Awesome.

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HANNA WILLIAMSON █ act one: way down we go NYC ▸ p. johnson's ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Instances of disruption were far and few between. Perhaps that feeling was a byproduct of mental apathy associated with Hanna’s chosen profession, if one could call it that. Every day was outlandishly stuffed with disruptions to the point that all of it just dissolved into a nasty slush of goo. She barely noticed it, or not until something more robust came along. That dreaded thing—or maybe a much needed relief—of seeing old faces and habits again was creeping ever so closer. Why had she agreed to it in the first place? Not even the most prestigious historian could answer that. Hanna’s manager insisted on participation because it would positively affect her brand. The man knew his trade and the business well enough to make that distinction. Also, the fact that one of the more generous sponsors of Hanna’s online presence was presumably attending indicated that listening to the manager was a wise decision. “Anything else?” Hanna asked. The call had gone on for a while. It was mostly a routine meeting with Paul Bateman, Hanna’s manager and PR consultant. “There’s the Delton reunion thing next week.” Paul said. “Shit,... I forgot about that.” “I RSPV’d you and booked a flight to Portland. Can you drive from there?” “Sure, and this is absolutely necessary?” Hanna muttered. “I thought you said you wanted to go?” “Yeah, because you said it’s good for my brand.” “It is. Snap a few grams and do some silly dances with your old classmates for TikTok. It shows that you value those times that everyone has such bizarre nostalgia for, even if they hated it.” “I wasn’t exactly nice to people there.” “That doesn’t matter. You have changed and you’re nice now, even to the nerds and the weirdos. That’s the spin. It will do wonders for your metrics.” “Mmkay,... are you sure about this?” “Hanna, you don’t pay me the big bucks to guess and not be sure—just trust me. Besides, didn’t you and Brigham go to the same school? If she is going, then you almost have a contractual obligation to go. She puts a lot of food on your table. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you.” Paul’s usual preaching and delegating began to show its ugly face. “I know, I’m going.” Hanna said and hung up, like a spoiled child being scolded about the right thing to do. That week went by fast. Hanna had managed to speak to her parents about the spectacle she had to engage with. They were elated to have her home again for a couple of nights. However, the offer came with the stern stipulation that Hanna were to be ‘friendly’, as they put it. The faults of young adulthood was a vicious bitch from which there was no escape and Hanna was deep in that vile grasp, being dragged down at every turn. Hanna sighed at the militaristic demand and just agreed. There was nothing she could say that would convince anyone of anything. She simply had to show that things were different now, to some degree. Hanna wondered: would anyone even notice let alone give her or themselves a chance to notice? All she could do was to think about it herself. After all, her own prejudices and memories of those she did remember were unaltered since that time—they were still in or out, as the old gang used to say. The flight was uneventful. Hanna had spoken to Freya—or Brigham as Paul called her—a bit leading up to the day of the thing. Seeing as their schedules were hectic and not particularly synchronized, Hanna thought it best to simply meet there instead of traveling together. Portland was as it had always been, it seemed. Hanna had been there on more than one occasion, just as every other kid from the Delton area who wanted to party or hang out in the city. The first bump in the road came with the car rental guy. Hanna had no idea what the fuck he was on about when it came to insurance, so she had to call Paul. It turned out that there was no misunderstanding or problem—Hanna was just plain old stupid, a dumb bitch with no life experience, although nobody said it out loud. However, Hanna was not entirely unaware of this fact. When she managed to get everything in order, the drive to Delton was just as uneventful as the flight. She was not used to this kind of long range driving. Staying awake was a bit of a problem, but some music and a couple of energy drinks fixed it right up. The first stop in Delton was her parents' house. Seeing as Hanna was an only child, it was a big deal when she came around these days. Her dad, Charles Williamson, took a chivalrous role by unpacking the car and carrying all of his daughter's luggage upstairs. Hanna had the typical chat with her mom, Hillary Williamson, about everything in NYC. There was about an hour before the actual thing at P. Johnson’s. Hanna indulged in some nostalgic things in her old room—pictures, the old diary, a couple of half broken phones that still worked somehow, and other memorabilia-sort of things. Jennifer and Madeleine were constantly on Hanna’s mind. She had not spoken with them in any meaningful way after high school, at least beyond the occasional ass licking on Instagram. Yet, there was some nostalgia there. Hanna does not deny who and what she was back then, but at least she has the capacity to be something else, unlike the other two of the old clique. She changed into a somewhat casual outfit for the event—all black, consisting of tight jeans, a top showing perhaps too much skin, and a leather jacket of some larger size that cut off by the waistline. Hanna took the car downtown. She was not entirely aware of the time, but she arrived at P. Johnson’s somewhere between early and on time. A parking spot was not hard to find in this desolate shithole, she thought. Hanna had to take a moment in the car after powering down. There was some movement inside P. Johnson’s, which she assumed were people attending the thing, but there was no way to make out who they were. She took a few deep breaths and snapped a selfie. “Here we go” the caption read with the hashtag #highschoolreunion. Her following on Instagram had breached a million not so long ago, so getting a modest few likes within a minute was expected. She avoided looking into the place while approaching it at a fairly fast pace. Her stride was ever so catwalk-y, as you never knew who was watching. Almost barging inside, she caught the atmosphere at an awkward moment and stopped dead in her track. Jack was in middle of having a drink while Meir was standing behind her like a creep, not saying a word and caught up in fiddling with his phone. Everything sort of happened at the same time—the notification, the tagging, all of it. Hanna smirked, almost chuckling at the bizarre moment, swinging her eyes back and forth between Jack and Meir. “You okay there, Meir?” Hanna said and allowed that chuckle to escape. Good God, she remembered his name, and hers too. How was that even possible? Especially his, seeing as Hanna had not been the nicest of persons to him. Or, rather, in her own defense, it was the other two skanks who were mean to him—but he probably did not see it that way. Hanna stepped forward in a much slower, relaxed pace and placed herself besides Jack. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔