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    1. Oblivion 11 yrs ago

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Dazed as he was, Leon wasn’t going down. The four newcomers had proved to be quite the adversary and he wasn’t entirely happy about it. Even as Hakuren had managed to daze one of the dudes by somewhat circling around him, Leon had fallen prey to his own confusion and had been delayed. It hadn’t gone entirely to plan – he’d followed after Hakuren and then broken off, heading off in a different direction in order to get to the dude by surprise. Also, he had to find a rock. Yes, a rock, he mumbled to himself as he leapt from boulder to boulder, all of them too big to carry and drop on a human skull.

It seemed he was too late, however, because by the time he came prancing back with a rock in his arms – not too heavy yet not too light, perfect for brain damage – the guy was already far off and Leila was free. Was there any point in dropping a 15-kilogram stone on his head now? Probably not, Leon decided, and turned to return the rock back to the miniature pool he had pulled it out from. It seemed that he was the one with the brain damage, however, as he felt his foot slip on some pink moss. Losing his balance, he flailed for a minute before regaining his posture. All that flailing did require two free arms, however, and the pain on his foot finally registered after two good seconds of confusion. The rock had landed squarely on his foot, eliciting a rather girly squeak from Leon as he inwardly cried and lamented his plight.

By the time he made it back to the group, limping, most of them were close by and Harper was thankfully out of the water. Leon had arrived just in time to watch a very drunk Jasper cuss out the other humans and he smirked, nodding along. Naturally – he couldn’t expect any less, really – the other humans had taken it literally, and one of the girls had introduced the rest. So Luke had been the guy who had evaded a head-bashing from Leon’s rock. He narrowed his eyes at the guy and the nameless girl who was holding the Living List, much to his horror. Over time, he had sensed his companions’ attachment to the list and while it wasn’t entirely important to him – truthfully, nothing really was – he knew it meant a lot to the others, therefore his indignation at the statement.

Even as Jasper snatched the list back and the four humans blocked the door, Leon found himself sighing. This really was more work than it was worth, yet he didn’t fancy being stuck in this cave for any longer. “Pfft. Let’s see you say that again when we kick your ass.” Make them eat their words, Leon nodded to himself, itching to get out of the cave. He briefly wondered whether to charge on ahead like an angry bull but he knew brute strength wasn’t really his forte. So he stood where he was, a rather fierce and irritated expression on his face and his foot still throbbing. They were going down.
I don't mind waiting either, I'll be a bit busy if I can convince myself to stop procrastinating.
I watched about half of Divergent online but I want to read the books so bad ;_; Damn you, laziness. I'll be getting up a post soon, definitely by tonight.
There was something wrong.

Head spinning, Anya sat up. The blurred mess that was her room twisted further away from her, falling away from her outstretched hands. The tattoo-like markings that littered her skin glinted in the dimming light, telling her that indeed, she had a body.

Then why did she feel so weightless?

The feeling of simply floating along, alone and helpless along a pitch-black sky overtook her senses. Closing her misty eyes, Anya prayed that this would never end. One could argue that eternal solitude was the worst way to spend the remaining days of your life but to Anya, that was her sanctuary. Her one remaining thought that kept her from going insane. Little did she know, she had already crossed that boundary years back and was wading in unfamiliar territory.

Thump.

The feeling of her back landing on the floor sparked a sharp spike of pain to run up her body, ending at her throbbing temple. Momentarily, the pain spread like wildfire through the rest of her body, a dull ache that made Anya grit her teeth and stop herself from crying out. She turned her unfocused gaze up towards the ceiling, looking for sort of solace, only to be met with an ominous darkness gathering in the corners of the ceiling and spreading across the walls like a disease. That’s what it was – a disease. These abhorrent shadows were always like a disease, grabbing at whatever they could and reducing them to nothing. And Anya had been running from them from day one. A whimper rose to her throat, a panicked expression overtaking her features.

Today would be the day they got her.

Rooted to the spot and unable to move, Anya barely registered the roar of fire. It wasn’t fire of her own making – no, it was a creation of the form sitting right inside the white-hot flames. As the flames got closer and closer, Anya suddenly felt the ability to move and she immediately scrambled back, away from the figure. He was back, the one entity that wouldn’t leave her alone.

Go away.

It opened its pitch-black eyes that had not even a hint of a white sclera and smiled, the malicious grin spanning the entire width of his face. “Welcome back.” The raspy whisper filled her ears and a few tears escaped Anya’s eyes. As if on cue, whispers broke out from an invisible audience, not quieting even when Anya screamed “Shut up!”.

There was no escaping it. She vaguely registered the shadowy tendril reaching the hand that was extended behind her, wrapping itself around her wrist. The burning sensation started immediately, snatching a scream from Anya’s throat. She ripped her arm away and scooted towards the center of the room, away from the shadows and closer to the fire. She had no choice – the fire burned its way closer and closer, heating her skin to a rather uncomfortable degree every second.

“Bad choice.” The demon announced, his deep laugh drowning out the whispers. “Let the games begin.” Anya found herself unable to move again and, seated on the scorching hot floor of the room, could only watch as the flames swallowed her feet. And then the screams began.
As she stood outside the door of her assigned patient’s room, Farrah dutifully ignored the screams from within. This particular ward was fairly soundproof yet the Dreamweaver’s voice continuously broke through and echoed down the hallway. She flipped through the patient’s file, reading through it as carefully as Buck had requested. As her eyes landed on the last line, she shook her head and sunk her hand into her scrubs’ pocket where two syringes of Anya’s medication lay.

Do not under ANY circumstances look this patient in the eye. The last line repeated itself in her mind as she swiped her key card into the slot and the door automatically opened. Farrah slowly opened the door, intent on not disturbing the non-Earth patient as the file had specified and frankly, she didn’t feel like fighting a fire. Closing the door behind her, Farrah stood quietly by the door and watched the humanoid Dreamweaver writhe in agony.

Several minutes later, as the patient abruptly sat up, eyes wide and brimming with tears, Farrah barely flinched. She approached the patient, already impatient with having waited for so long. “Hanneli, I’m your nurse, Farrah.” She said in a soft voice. She didn’t reach out to touch the girl and stayed out of the girl’s immediate line of sight just in case she freaked out. “How are you feeling this morning?”

It took several long seconds for the girl to respond. She didn’t move from her position on her bed, eyes fixated on the same spot on the far wall. “There’s someone there.” Ignoring the nurse, Anya continued to stare at the wall. Her voice was light and cheerful, as if pointing out a flaw on a toddler’s artwork. She spoke in a mix of her native Dreamweaver language and English, somewhat confused between the two and inserting random Dreamweaver words among her sentences.

Farrah turned and scrutinized the area where Anya was pointing at, her navy-blue eyes scanning the wall repeatedly but seeing no-one there. The possibility of a patient with the capability to render themselves invisible was impossible at Osmond’s so the only plausible explanation was that Anya was hallucination. “There’s no one there, dear.” Farrah said as gently as she could manage.

“No, there’s someone there. He’s sitting right there. Can’t you see him? He’s looking at you like you’re his next meal.” Anya answered, her voice drifting away dreamily, clearly disregarding Farrah’s words. The nurse frowned and walked around the bed to face the Dreamweaver. Anya had morphed into something in-between Dreamweaver and human somewhere in the middle of her nightmare episode, creating a weird mix of feathers and glowing markings. The blonde nurse bent down slightly to be on eye-level with Anya and took her face in for the first time. It was fairly human, with the same markings taking up a side of her face. She could’ve been considered some kind of unearthly beauty yet her weird words overpowered everything else.

“The room is empty save for us. Are you sure you can see?” Farrah asked, looking into Anya’s cloudy eyes. The girl seemed blind to the entire world, piquing Farrah’s interest. Her psychic block could ward off nearly every mental attack so she took the risk and studies Anya’s strange eyes.

As if she’d flipped a switch, Anya turned towards Farrah and locked eyes with the nurse. At first, Farrah felt no different, only slightly uncomfortable at the intensity of Anya’s stare. The girl really was crazy, she decided. Then the unthinkable happened. Her vision blurred, slowly twisting away from the shape-shifter until all Farrah could see was a deep black, only the faintest colors filtering through. And even then, that aspect was rapidly being taken away from her.

“…I don’t know. Can you see?” Anya’s voice broke through the tense silence, sickly sweet but Farrah could detect a hint of mocking underneath. She frowned and glared at the girl as her vision returned, blocking the girl’s mental attack. Anya smiled in response and turned back towards the wall. “He says hi. Do you want to say hi?”

In response, Farrah stabbed the syringe into Anya’s arm, reducing the girl to a slightly sluggish mess. Another stab followed from the other syringe and she heard Anya mumble something about whether she always went around stabbing people. Anya’s eyes immediately unfocused further as the medication worked its magic, sedating her just enough to bring her back down to reality and making her eyes focus a bit more. Once she was satisfied the Dreamweaver was fairly normal by Osmond’s standards, she spoke, “Enough. Get dressed so we can go down to the cafeteria.” Farrah tossed the girl a set of royal purple scrubs and turned towards the door, waiting to go down to the ground floor. The faint rustle of material behind her told her that Anya was nearly done changing and she swiped the keycard through the slot, opening the door once more. The nurse turned and motioned for Anya to follow her.

One uncomfortable ride later, Farrah and Anya made their way to the cafeteria. Once at the double doors, Farrah waved Anya in and motioned towards the counter of food. “Go eat and socialize. No doubt it’ll do you some good.”

Anya smiled in response and her hand shot out to grip Farrah’s. Farrah momentarily tried to yank her hand away, unsure of what the patient was doing. Did she have some unmentioned ability? However, it all proved to be needless concerns as Anya vigorously shook her hand, dragging her entire arm up and down. “Thank you, nurse. The man says hello by the way. He thinks you’re pretty.” With that, Anya skipped into the cafeteria, grabbing a tray along the way.

The man behind the counter recognized her instantly despite her human appearance and handed her a small plate of glowing blue biscuits. Anya thanked him with smile and loaded the rest of her tray with human food. Human food did little for her different internal organs but it was tasty nonetheless, and the stack of pancakes on her plate grew. The blue biscuits, on the other hand, tasted like one variety of berries that grew on her homeworld, supplying her with the necessary nutrients that this world lacked.

She turned and, tray in hand, approached the first ground of people she saw. A sullen young man and a girl. “Kitty!” Anya called out to herself, her voice fairly quiet despite the childish excitement in her voice. She skipped over to the table, and set her tray down. Without even bothering with introductions, she addressed the cat-lady. “Can I pull your tail? It’s so pretty!” She asked dreamily, offering the cat-lady a smile. Not waiting for an answer, she spoke again. “My name’s Anya.” It took considerable effort to speak in full English, as the other patients obviously weren’t equipped with a translator as Farrah had. Her words came out slightly slurred, giving away the fact that English wasn’t her native language. Nevertheless, it got the point across which was enough for Anya.
Everything happened slightly too fast for Leon to follow and, under the net, he squirmed in annoyance. Annoyed at what exactly, he didn’t really know. The net was annoying, tangled around his arms and legs making him quickly realize that flailing didn’t really help. The newcomers were also annoying. The caves’ wet ground was particularly annoying, especially the fact that his pants were getting dirty. That didn’t really sit well with the dark-haired young man and he hissed in anger, squirming despite the logic of no movement allowing his escape. He simmered in his own anger under the net, glaring at the newcomers mostly for the fact that his clothes were now dirty. When they overpowered those humans, Leon would be sure to demand and make them clean his beloved pants. Designer and mud never went well together, it was practically an atrocity.

Those thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sudden weightlessness on his back. There was nothing there, especially nothing tangled around his arms or legs. He sprang up, only to face Ace, the girl who’d yanked the net off of Mado, Leon and Hakuren. He was almost tempted to go fist-bump her as a thank you but instead, she turned to give the other humans a glare. Well, the humans that were still there. His glare was icy-cold, capable of freezing fire as he said, “Look at this mess you’ve made.” He punctuated every word, indicating towards the others and himself as proof. “Can’t you act like civilized human beings?” He demanded, before his attention was shifted towards the cave’s entrance, where he witnessed the Living List simply floating along in a breeze and Harper tackling the girl with the pipe into the water. He was about to tear after the list in an effort to get it but he saw that Jasper was handling that particular activity so he turned towards Hakuren, who seemed to have been hit yet again.

Leon winced, feeling a bit bad for the guy. There was a prominent wound on his head and blood seeped down the side of his face, but Leon couldn’t deny that Hakuren made it look artistic, somehow, in the weirdest sense. He inclined his head towards the young man and waved a hand to attract his attention, careful not to attract unwanted attention. He felt almost woozy with the amount of people in one place – this was why he didn’t like crowds. Crowds were confusing. At least at parties, he wasn’t forced to work together and interact with them all at the same time. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore – every single action seemed out of place, unexpected or confusing. Leon had absolutely no idea what he himself was thinking anymore; he had no set course upon which to act and that disoriented him. So he did look slightly confused as he motioned towards Hakuren. He pranced over a few rocks and scrunched up his nose in distaste, hating the mud. At least his earrings were spotless.

“I hope you’re not demented or anything but we need to take down those dudes.” He whispered, hoping the girl’s pole hadn’t knocked all of Hakuren’s sense out of the boy’s cranium. That would’ve been a horrible waste, Leon mused to himself.
Maiden said Oblivion, I loooove your Dreamweavers! Their dual form is nicely done. I'm curious: is Anya still able to change back and forth at will, or is that affected by her mental illness? Anya's lovely, her bracelets are great! Very much in the spirit of the RP, and a nice touch.


Thank you, I'm really glad you like them ^^ As for her Dreamweaver form, it's assumed that she can, though she never has. She doesn't reply when asked either. OOCly, she can, only when 'normal' (well, as normal as she can get) but she doesn't have a reason to.

Also, I've finally finished my CS.
The warehouse-like building stood tall and imposing when compared to the buildings that frequented the human world, repelling intruders away simply by its appearance alone. That, however, wouldn’t deter the woman standing right in front of it, determined to find the hidden Fullbringers. A strong amount of reiatsu emanated from this exact location when compared to the normal, extremely low levels of background reiatsu left over from Hollows over the millennia. It did prove, however, that whoever was inside it really needed to suppress their reiatsu better or at least erect barriers against that sort of thing. Of course, a spiritually sensitive being was a rare to come across in that particular area of Ireland but it was still possible. She was there now, wasn’t she? A hand came up to grip the handle of the massive door, turning it in an attempt to open the door. It didn’t budge, no matter how much strength Yuzuki applied to it, proving that the door was locked or barricaded.

Yuzuki didn’t wait to find out. Whirling around, she aimed a powerful back-kick at the door, shattering a man-sized hole through the wood. Her plans for an inconspicuous entry were ruined – she hadn’t had the patience to look for other means of entry apart from smashing in the front door. Nevertheless, Yuzuki was answered by silence. The interior was dark, boxes made from various sturdy materials making piles upon piles of stored things, whatever they were. As Yuzuki stepped in, her hand on her Zanpakuto, she almost expected to be ambushed by a couple dozen of kids. However, there was nothing, no presence of any living being as far as she could see, though she could still sense the reiatsu.

The decision took approximately two seconds – deciding to follow the reiatsu would be the best idea. She nodded to herself, almost as an afterthought, and focused on the pressure. It was strongest in the far right corner of the warehouse, where most of the boxes were stored. She set off at a quick pace to the corner, some fifty meters away. The place was truly huge, not even her quick strides afforded her to arrive quickly. However, as she got closer a small, inconspicuous glow in said corner was brought to her attention by a barely audible whisper. The whispering stopped suddenly, as if cut off or muffled by something and Yuzuki narrowed her eyes. She stood behind a tall stack of wooden boxes labeled with ‘this way up’ and ‘do not store with explosives’. That last warning piqued her interest and she prodded the box for a second before the smell of gunpowder assaulted her senses. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Yuzuki shifted slightly and listened carefully for any more signs of human activity.

Fifteen minutes passed like this, with no sound nor any indication of a being within the four walls. Not even Yuzuki was detectable, not to inexperienced Fullbringers anyway, her massive amount of reiatsu being nearly impossible to hide. That was exactly what Yuzuki had been waiting for. Apparently assuming that the intruder was now gone, the humans behind the boxes sighed in relief and the light flared up again, nearly blinding Yuzuki. She smirked, intent on apprehending the gang as soon as they came out. And that’s exactly what they did, making their way out between the boxes, only to be met with the smug figure of Yuzuki. More scared than anything, they scattered as much as possible, a running throughout the warehouse and aiming for the exit. Yuzuki was faster than that, using a bit of Shunpo to dart around and catch them like escaped animals. Soon enough, they cowered in a corner, much to Yuzuki’s dislike.

’What a bunch of spineless brats,’ she thought, surveying them all with a displeased expression. Finally, she spoke. “So, you’ve all been hiding. Care to tell me why?”

Silence spanned across the warehouse for a few long minutes. A man in his early twenties, who seemed to be the leader of sorts, said, “We thought you were one of those humanoid monsters.” Yuzuki perked an eyebrow at this, mildly amused at their description of an Arrancar. Why would there be Arrancars in the Human world? The last Arrancar had appeared 64 years ago, if Yuzuki wasn’t mistaken. Nevertheless, she wasn’t surprised that they couldn’t tell the difference between her reiatsu and an Arrancar’s. Arrancars had become unsettlingly similar to Shinigami in the last few centuries, unlike the ones she’d battled 600 years ago, when they’d felt more primal than anything.

However, the fact that they’d sent two of their own to run after a suspected Arrancar didn’t sit well with her. Sending Ciara and Emmett into the lion’s den was dangerous and stupid, something Yuzuki didn’t approve of. They all should’ve either come together or stayed away together rather than sacrificing others, viewing them as expendable. Of course, sometimes it was inevitable but in this case, it was entirely avoidable. Just looking at the kids’ scared expressions pissed her off more than anything. Her previous assessment of them being spineless was correct after all. “Just so you know, they’re called Arrancars and they have the remains of a white mask on their head and face. I clearly don’t have one, therefore I’m not one. However, you shouldn’t have sent Ciara and Emmett to trail after me if you weren’t sure, while you sat here on your cowardly asses, risking their lives. I hope you feel better knowing I nearly killed Emmett.” Yuzuki glared a bit, not too much as she didn’t want to excessively scare the kids. No doubt it would’ve been good for them but Yuzuki found it far too much work to undo the damage she’d done later. “They’re actually going to arrive… now. I hope you feel ashamed of your actions.” Yuzuki berated the group, feeling two faint reiatsu signatures approach the warehouse at a fast pace. Just in time, Ciara and Emmett entered the building, taking in the embarrassed faces of their group that refused to meet their eyes. They were visibly surprised to see Yuzuki there and wondered what she’d done to silence the normally rowdy group. They didn’t wait to find out, however, and went to join the rest of the group, sitting down near the back.

“You’re all a bunch of unfortunate cowards.” Yuzuki started. Her posture made her seem more like the feminine version of a military commander more than anything. “Unfortunately, I’ve been instructed to train you and your abilities. We have a war in my world and any help we can get is welcome.”

The group seemed uncertain, some obviously unwilling to charge head-on into another world and tackle their problems, their war. The man that spoken before seemed unsure and leaned in to consult his companion, a boy in his late teens and platinum-blonde hair, a shade similar to Yuzuki’s. He nodded in response and their whispered conference continued for a few minutes, occasionally being joined by several other members. Finally, they seemed to come to a consensus. Yuzuki would’ve forced them anyway whether they’d liked it or not, one way or the other. She’d wanted to offer them the chance of saying ‘no’, however, and making their own decision so that they didn’t complain about having no choice later on.

“We’ll do it. We’ve been chased out of our hometowns, shunned by our friends and families for our ‘abnormality’. We’ve been chased and attacked by monsters and their human counterparts for too long. We’ve watched too many of our friends and kind die. We want no more part in that.” The rest of the humans nodded in response, agreeing with his words.

Yuzuki nodded and clapped her hands in a military manner, the situation reminiscent of a boot camp. She motioned for them to stand up and pointed to the boxes that lay about. “You made the right choice; at least it shows me that your brains are functioning properly. Training starts right now.” Ignoring the groans of complaint from the younger ones, Yuzuki continued, “Move those boxes to the end of the warehouse and make sure they take up as little space as possible. Stack them if you have to. If they’re too heavy and you can’t lift them high enough, call me.” They nodded and dispersed, some more reluctant than others. Yuzuki didn’t move, surveying them sharply. “After you’re done, I want you all to run twenty laps around the warehouse. And no complaints!” She called after them, her sharp voice startling some of them. Her mannerisms towards training were undeniably identical to Captain Akimoto’s, which was understandable as she had spent several long centuries training with him. And that training had proved effective – Yuzuki was now determined to pass it onto the humans; she’d beat the cowardice out of them if she had to.
Several weeks later, Yuzuki stood over Emmett, watching the crystal in his hands vibrate and shift around. She leapt away at the last moment as he flung it away from him just as it exploded into a million and one shards. Some of the larger ones embedded themselves into her arm, seeing as she was the one closest to the explosion. She barely registered the faint, brief sting of pain and pulled them out absentmindedly, her eyes on the clock that hung on the far wall of the warehouse. It had been stolen by a particularly stealthy teenager, nicked from a fairly wealthy house. She was visibly antsy, a foreign feeling of excitement settling in the pit of her stomach as she watched the hands of the clock move.

The excited feeling didn’t fade away even as she watched over the others. They had improved greatly in the span of several weeks, taking to their training better than Yuzuki had initially thought. Some, like Emmett, had even mastered their Fullbring. Emmett was no capable of igniting and exploding most things, though it depended on the size, density and the material. She could see the kid was going to be an asset in Seireitei and though it had seemed unlikely at first, Emmett had taken to Yuzuki as well. He obviously liked her more than the others, often staying up late to keep her company as she kept watch outside the warehouse. She liked the kid more than others too, being able to tolerate his chatter despite nearly having suffocated him when she’d first met him.

All too soon, the hour hand of the clock hit precisely three in the afternoon. Yuzuki felt her excitement and relief grow as she called the Fullbringers to her, motioning for them to stand together. “I need to leave for a while, possibly for a long time. I’m leaving you all in Emmett’s care until I find a competent replacement and until then, I expect you train diligently, like I never left because I might just come back for a surprise visit.” A few shuddered at the implications of that statement, the prospect of getting caught lazing around by Yuzuki not appealing in the least. Surprisingly, she hadn’t quite lost her temper with them yet and they didn’t want that to change anytime soon.

Half an hour of goodbyes from saddened humans later, Yuzuki ruffled Emmett’s messy black hair and said, “Take care of yourself and the group kid. I expect great things from you.” He smiled in response and opened his mouth to reply, but Yuzuki was gone.

She slowed down when she approached the open Senkaimon, eager to get out on the other side. There was nothing better than Seireitei, she decided, as she approached the two Shinigami stationed at both sides of the Senkaimon, third-seats if she wasn’t mistaken by the look of their uniforms. They both bowed deeply when they spotted her. “Welcome back, Lieutenant Ueshima.”

Yuzuki walked out through the other side, finding herself standing right on the edge of Sokyoku Hill. She took and deep breath and smiled, glad to be back home. Rarely had she ever felt so happy, so glad to be back home that it showed on her face. Every trace of unhappiness and resentment at having spent a hundred years in the human world was gone. In an impressive display of Shunpo, Yuzuki leapt off the Hill and hurtled down towards Seireitei, landing lightly on a rooftop and making her way towards her Division.
Little did she know that everyone already knew about her return. The opening of a Senkaimon required authorization from the Captain-Commander and a lot of paperwork to be done by Akimoto. The Shinigami in charge of passing on the paperwork to the Captain had noticed Yuzuki’s name on the paper and had nearly had a heart attack. The information spread like wildfire and whispers followed, the Shinigami quietly discussing Yuzuki’s return. Though no doubt most, if not all, in Seireitei knew of Yuzuki, only those that had been around in a hundred years ago had seen her alive, mostly the Fifth’s Shinigami. The rest undoubtedly hadn’t, seeing as she spent majority of her time in the Fifth Division. Nevertheless, her reputation was fearsome and the moment the information had got out, the Shinigami – even the ones not in the Fifth – had scrambled to put everything together to perfection, not wanting to be the recipient of Yuzuki’s wrath. It almost seemed as if they were getting ready for the apocalypse – the only difference was that no-one was running, as if accepting their fate and the inevitable storm to come.
I don't really see much of a problem with nine players/eight patients, assuming we're all active and no-one falls off the face of the Earth. It sounds pretty good! ^^
Name: Hanneli ‘Anya’ Zeihn.

Species: Anya is a Dreamweaver, one of the ancient tribes of people on her home world. Intertwined in glowing, beautiful markings, Dreamweavers generally have a float-y and birdlike look to them, seemingly incorporeal and capable of dissolving at the lightest of touches. As their name suggests, Dreamweavers are capable of manipulating dreams for their own uses, though it’s more of a tradition-based ability rather than having practical use.

On the contrary, they do not sleep. The weaker beings, with less and fainter markings, will fall into a peaceful trance, something akin to humans’ sleeping. The particularly skilled Dreamweavers will have parts of their skin covered in these markings, dulling in color when they draw off their internal energy reserves. In turn, the purpose of these markings is to subtly draw energy off of the surroundings, during which they glow brightly, making the entire process something like charging. Therefore, stronger Dreamweavers need no sleep and can function for years on end without the need for falling into the trance, instead simply drawing energy off their surroundings. Though their home planet is technologically advanced, there’s not enough energy to sustain them all and the absorption rate is lower, making the trance essential. In the human world, however, as humans don’t draw energy in such ways, there is plenty.

Gender: Female.

Age: Twenty-one.

Mental Illness:
  • Nightmare Disorder: Anya suffers from an extreme case of Nightmare Disorder for reasons unknown. Whether she wants to or not, she suffers from terrifying nightmares every single time she falls asleep. Anya has suffered from nightmare disorder all her life but every time she falls asleep, it’s like a whole new experience. It's unknown to the nurses exactly what she sees, as all she says is "Everything." when asked. These nightmares are the most common image she projects into others' minds, most often by accident. Nowadays, she cannot even discern between reality and fantasy at times. As a result, Anya suffers from insomnia, though it was never officially recorded. She stays up for days on end, before inevitably falling asleep.


  • Psychosis: Unlike her Nightmare Disorder, her psychosis developed gradually as a result of always losing it after a nightmare. Hallucinations plague her most often, ranging from ridiculous things to the things out of her nightmares. It is because of this that Anya relives her nightmares even while awake, though it's not as common. Whenever this happens, it severely impairs her sense of normalcy and it reduces her to a paranoid, delusional mess.


  • Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED): A direct result of her nightmare disorder and psychosis. Anything random can trigger an episode of rage, often disproportionate to the situation, contrasting with her friendly personality. Nurses are careful not to mention certain things such as her nightmares and her home world, as to avoid her extreme and immediate wrath. It's still unknown why she has developed this disorder, especially as it's triggered by things other than her other disorders. The sweet, somewhat likable girl disappears and is replaced by a raging inferno that can suddenly disappear like it was never there.


Appearance: Anya doesn’t like sleep. Due to staying up for days on end, Anya’s once healthy skin now has a pallid look to it coupled with dark eyes and a perpetual exhausted look. Her eyes are almost always glazed over and staring at something others cannot see, an obvious sign that she’s ‘not really there’, so to speak. Dreamweavers don’t exactly have normal eyes; the iris is more mist than anything else, giving them a cloudy look. Anya has often been mistaken for blind when she can see perfectly well. Her hair is dark and flows almost like water, a trait brought over from her Dreamweaver form. She stands at approximately 5’4, her body structure being proportionate and somewhat lean.

In her Dreamweaver form, Anya has a more bird-like appearance with several feathers in her hair that are obviously a part of her and growing on her head. Her eyes become cloudier and brighter; her body is lighter and her stature taller. Due to her sleepless nature, Anya has a gaunter look, appearing more frightening than ethereal. The skin on her shoulders, arms, legs, back, abdomen and the left side on her face is covered with Dreamweaver markings, all a dull hue of lavender-blue that, when ‘charging, explode outwards in a golden glow. The markings on her skin are the only part of her that remain on her body at all times, no matter the form, remaining on her even as a human. They’re mostly swirls and other such symbols of the Dreamweavers, spaced out across her skin.

History: Anya was born in her home world’s capital, Syrron, to two fairly normal middle-class parents. Being brought up in one of the most technologically advanced megacities, she got used to the low energy output of the surroundings. From the age of four, she needed to fall into a trance to get her energy levels back up. But something strange was happening: it was as if she fell into a coma every night, her body dead to the world but her mind awake, seeing things that no one ever should. Terrible, horrifying things plagued her every time she lay down to sleep. And so she screamed, and screamed, and screamed. But it never got rid of the nightmares.

It was like that every single night. Entity after entity would plague her for hours on end, refusing to release her from their grip until they were done breaking her mind. She stopped sleeping, staying up for hours on end. She couldn’t talk coherently, only vague babbles of ‘monsters, demons, demonic faces, voices’ amidst tears coming out of her mouth. The Dreamweavers assumed she was possessed by a demonic entity but couldn’t do anything about it – so the nightmares recurred. Again and again until she lost it, literally.

In an attempt to restore her normalcy, her parents made the risky decision to send her to school. Anya coped fairly well, until she fell asleep in class one day – really, it wasn't entirely her fault, it was the rather boring professor that droned on and on – and saw a horrifying vision of a demonic entity. Her screams alerted the whole school of her disorder and it wasn't until her alarmed professor shook her awake that she stopped screaming her lungs out. When she regained her senses, Anya looked up into the face of the same demon looking down at her. Her fellow classmates' concerned faces melted away into the background and Anya had a fit, lunging towards the professor in an attempt to get rid of the demon. One gouged-out eye later, Anya was expelled.

Fed up with the psychotic, screaming mess that was Anya, the Dreamweavers debated on what to do. She couldn’t be approached or let out in public as she automatically drew anyone and everyone into dreams. As nightmares were the only thing she had ever experienced, the dreams she projected to others were equally horrifying, scarring most of for life, some never recovering. Anya was dangerous, reckless, hysteric and a complete mess, unable to discern reality from fantasy. Everyone and everything was a ‘demon’ to her, voices were everywhere, her screaming voice filled every corner of the isolated house they kept her in.

The house she was kept in was more of a mansion, belonging to a high-class family that had generously offered the empty house as a makeshift institution where Anya was the only patient. It was a traumatic experience, seeing as the house wasn't exactly built for a hallucinating Dreamweaver with zero control over her powers. She was given freedom to roam around the house but two weeks after arriving at the house, Anya shut herself into a tiny dark space and refused to come out. The caretakers searched for days on end, looking for a sign of the disturbed girl. It was only six days after she disappeared that they found her, following the screams that came from a tiny broom cupboard. She had fallen asleep after six days of staying awake, giving her position away. Even so, she protested violently as she was led out of the cupboard and into the hallways. Anya didn't reply when asked why she'd locked herself in a broom cupboard, only looking away and singing softly to herself.

A year or so after her solitary confinement, the caretakers were getting fed up of Anya as well. Most of them resigned, leaving only two to look after the elusive girl. One caretaker disappeared one sunny morning and another year later, long after Anya was gone, his charred remains were found in a ditch a few hundred meters away from the mansion. The other caretaker remained alone, trying and failing to keep the girl under control. One night, however, changed everything.

The caretakers had been instructed upon arrival not to bother Anya in the middle of a nightmare unless properly trained and equipped. However, unable to stand the screams, Anya's caretaker shook her awake. Anya's eyes flew open, only to see the monster that had been relentlessly torturing her right above her, in reality. In response, Anya accidentally conjured a fireball as a panic response and incinerated the caretaker. The house exploded into a fiery inferno. Anya stumbled around in the hallways, choking on the smoke that was filling every corner of the house every second. Thankfully, the authorities arrived before Anya could suffocate and pulled her out, only to plunge her right into court. She was put on trial for arson and destroying priceless heirlooms and artifacts. Her lawyer argued that they shouldn't have been there anyway when they knew there was a mentally unstable girl around. She was excused on an insanity plea, and forever labelled as a menace to society. Interestingly, the owners of the house were found dead right after the trail. When asked why she hid away in closets so much, Anya finally gave a proper answer.

"I could hear the walls. I could see the paintings look at me, judging me, waiting to slit my throat while I sleep. The house was alive. Everything was alive, laughing at me for my naivety. I could feel them reaching out when I lay in bed at night, grasping at me with tendrils itching to strangle me. They wanted me dead, to steal my life away. But you know, they never found me in the closet."

In the end, the Dreamweavers decided to dump her in the human world. Upon arrival at Osmond’s, it was exact same thing. The institution was warned of her uncontrollable ability and was told not to look her in the eye as they led the hysterical Anya down the hallways. She was immediately placed in solitary confinement, away from everyone else. However, as a form of gratitude, the Dreamweavers sent a pair of cuffs that could limit Anya’s mental output, rendering her mostly harmless, apart from the random displays of violence and screaming. The cuffs were practically unbreakable and Anya was moved back into a normal ward following the change.

In the human world, Anya could and still does draw energy from the surroundings. The Dreamweavers thought that once she started doing that, her need for that strange type of sleep would cease. However, it didn’t. Anya automatically falls asleep, for reasons unknown. All night, her screams reverberate across the entire floor.

Personality: When one first looks at Anya, they'd most probably assume she was just as crazy awake as she was asleep. She's afraid of so many things, often staring at the walls as if having a conversation with them. Anya sings to herself a lot, a variety of songs in the Dreamweaver language that are somewhat soothing yet cheerful. She's afraid of her own shadow and seems completely and utterly loopy to the observer. At one moment, she's spouting complete nonsense about light bulbs being put on the ceilings to intentionally kill them all and the next, she puts forth philosophy that's entirely logical. Her morals are, at times, completely wrong but with her persuasive 'philosophy', one can assume she's right. At least in her own mind.

While she seems socially withdrawn and awkward, it all evaporates away when she's approached by someone. Anya is a natural social butterfly, and a talkative one at that. She's sweet, cheerful and to an extent, caring when normal. She's a person who loves company, talking, smiling and unless you're something that appears in her nightmares, she wouldn't hurt you intentionally. She loves laughing and is generally happy and stupidly optimistic. However, if one is perceptive, they can tell that there's something seriously off about Anya. Logically, she shouldn't be the 'sunshine and rainbows' person that she is. There's something wrong about her, something underlying that even Anya can't put her finger on.

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.

Fears: Anya has a long, long list of fears, but few are stronger than her fear of the uncontrollable. It drives her absolutely crazy, sending her into fits of hysteria that do not die down very fast. To Anya, uncontrollable things are unacceptable; she needs to know that everything is under control and safe. Another fear is her fear of large, open spaces with nowhere to hide. It’s a bit unconventional and even her own people don’t know where this fear came from, nor does Anya.

Capabilities:
  • Sensory Deprivation: One of the Dreamweavers’ primary abilities is their sensory deprivation. Upon eye contact with Anya, the senses of the target rapidly get inhibited to the point where their body's sense of sight, smell, touch, taste, hearing and balance are completely cut off, two or three at a time at most. It takes a minute or so to fully affect the body, yet it numbs the target to the point where they simply cannot sense anything.


  • Illusions (Dream Projection): The Dreamweaver's signature and well-known ability is to use ‘dreams’ while the target is awake, inducing illusions where everything feels real but obviously isn’t. It deceives the mind into thinking that everything Anya directs at them is real, thus falling into an illusion of Anya's thoughts and dreams. The illusions are entirely realistic, even the sense of touch reigns as it can be used to cause pain. As it’s considered quite dangerous, she was kept in solitary confinement until her home world sent over technologically advanced cuffs that do not allow Anya’s mental capabilities to surpass those of an exceptionally intelligent human being, hindering her ability to project dreams. The cuffs glow blue when she's attempting to project her dreams into others' minds, most often unintentionally, and are simply a dull grey when inactive.


  • Telekinesis: The actual ability of the Dreamweavers (only approximately a quarter are born with this ability) is the ability to ‘will’ objects to move, called Telekinesis in the Human world and Inner Will in the Dreamweavers' world. The Dreamweavers use this for only one purpose: fire. Though it can be used for other things such as basic Telekinesis, Dreamweavers have an affinity for creating fire over the generations. By exciting atoms, they create fire. However, while Anya alright at basic Telekinesis, using it for kinetics at a molecular level is much easier. At times, creating fire is purely accidental, most often in tandem with her IED fits of rage. However, as fire is uncontrollable, it tends to scare her.


Miscellaneous: Theme Song: Audiomachine // Prelude of Dreams

OOC Notes: -
Leon heard the pipe collide with Hakuren’s jaw rather than see it. He whirled around, a sinking feeling in his gut as the whisper he’d heard mere moments ago replayed itself in his mind. He really shouldn’t have disregarded because now Hakuren lay unconscious on the rocky ground, his brain most probably splattered all over said rocks. Leon didn’t even have time to look, let alone panic (though he had to admit, he most likely would’ve just stared in fascination) as one of the newcomer’s companions shoved him and grabbed his arms, yanking them behind Leon’s back. He grunted in pain, feeling his arms stretch way too much for comfort. Immediately, as if in response to the sudden pain, Leon stomped onto the figure’s foot. He felt the grip on his arms loosen a tiny bit and he pulled one arm free, swinging it behind him in an attempt to elbow the person behind him. In doing that, his other arm came free but before he could do any more damage, a net of massive (and heavy) proportions came down onto them, rooting Leon to the spot.

Squirming underneath said net, Leon felt his temper flaring. He hated being restrained, being confined to a singular thing and in this case, a small amount of space that definitely counted as singular in Leon’s book. He flailed and twisted, squirmed and turned, all to no avail. “Let me out of here, you rascals. Who do you think you are?” He hissed, voice dangerously low. His display of violence should’ve surprised him but no, it came as a natural reaction. Perhaps if the newcomers hadn’t been so forthcoming and aggressive, things could’ve gone better.

At the appearance of a very small figure, an addition to the assaulting group, the girl in the front asked, “Where is the list?” Leon gave her a blank look at that, still irritated with the group. After a split second of contemplation, he decided to play dumb. Hakuren’s cryptic answer certainly hadn’t helped and the inevitable bump on his head would be proof enough. So Leon did the next best thing. He was probably the best liar amongst the humans present and, with a convincing air, he gave them a blank and rather dumbfounded look. “What list?” He answered, followed by a rather indignant expression at being attacked for no reason whatsoever.
Best of luck Fox-chan! I hope it all goes well~ ^^
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