PatientBean

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

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_{Location: Southern Plateau, Dundas Island - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #2.032: With Family Like This

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_{Interaction(s): Banjo (@Hound55), Gil (@Roman)}

Previously: Under Water, Above Board

Calliope stood in front of the door that bore her name. She knew what lay beyond it was not an escape but more trickery. Whoever had started all this intended to play with them before....what? Killing them? For what purpose?

Either way, answers would not be given until she got through it. She looked over to Banjo and GIl. "So we just....go through our door?" Was she stalling? Perhaps. But she knew she had to anyway.

She gave Gil a meaningful nod and then looked at Banjo. "I'll see you on the other side? I love you."

"Love you, too. Remember what I said. The way out is through. Whatever it is. Whatever we see." His words affirmed her. Whatever lay before her, she needed to get through it. Sensed she would have to get through it and whatever happened, she would be changed on the other side. "And yeah, I'll see you on the other side, too."

Calliope turned and pushed open her door and stepped through.

---

Once the door shut and her eyes adjusted she found herself in familiar territory. It would have been a comfort had this room ever been comfortable. But she recognized the couches that looked untouched because only families that spent time together had couches that looked lived in. She saw the framed pictures of their family with plastered-on smiles that never quite met their eyes. She saw her brother and felt an intense longing to speak to him.

All around her was a living room that felt dead whenever she set foot in it. So, it seemed whoever set this up intended to torture her with one of the things she dreaded most.

"Well....shit."

"Language, Calliope." Came a reply from behind her, a soft, feminine tone ringing true through the room. Calliope turned, taken by surprise; before her, busying about with tidying while tying her hair and fastening some jewelry, was her mother. "Now, come on," she continued, moving forwards to place a delicate, warm hand against Calliope's cheek, smiling as she looked into the face of her daughter. "You're not even dressed yet! You'll make your brother late."

Calli turned upon hearing the voice. She had to admit she expected whoever had set this up for her to place her father in the scenario. Instead, she looked at the face of the main woman in her life. The one who should have protected her. The one who should have been a comforting force. Her mother was many things, but comforting wasn't one of them. Calliope had always assumed it was because of her own lack of power, but as she got older she grew increasingly angrier at her. How do you sit idly by while your own flesh and blood are abused?

"Mother." She stated it matter-of-factly. There were never terms of endearment used amongst the household. "What exactly would we be late for?"

Alexandria gave Calliope a quizzical, but slightly amused look, pausing in her fussing to gaze at her daughter with gentle eyes. Calliope stood stoic and defiant, and this amused Alexandria more, assured she was the punchline to some invisible joke only her children were in on.
"You're either playing or forgetful, and neither is like you, Calliope. You are a silly one." She shook her head slightly in humoured bafflement. "Your brother's inauguration, of course! We'll miss the swearing-in ceremony."

Calliope stood still. Her mother, in as many words as she has ever spoken to her, has never called her silly. Silly wasn't allowed. Silly meant you were not taking anything seriously which meant weakness. Silly never existed in this household. Calliope knew better. Surely the Foundation or whoever intended her to fall into a lull, seeing her mother show some affection.

But hearing about her brother sent her spinning. Not only because she missed him, but because her mother called him her brother. Her father was adamant that he would always be "his daughter" but she never thought her mother accepted him either. She never said so, at least. "Inauguration? Maybe I overslept. Remind me, what is he being accepted in to?" Her brother hated politics. Not just because of their father, but because of how the country treated trans people and other minorities. To hear he is being inaugurated into something sent a chill.

Was this when the torment began?

"Senatorship, of course." Came the reply, but not from the warm, maternal voice of Calliope's mother; no, the answer came from behind her, and in a deeper, more masculine tone, yet still smooth and daubed with clemency. "Have you really forgotten the last nine months of campaigning?"

Calliope turned around. Stood, unassuming and open, at the bottom of the stairs, was Leonardo De León, suited and booted, a little pin of the American flag attached to his lapel, and one of the most distinctive ties in their father's closet tied neatly around his neck. He did a little spin and gave Calliope a warm smile.
"How do I look, sis?"

Calliope took in her brother's form. His voice sounded deeper than the last time they spoke, but he looked the same. No, he appeared the same but dressed just like their father. A sheep in wolf's clothing. Calliope stood stunned. She knew this wasn't real. There was no way her brother would ever decide to be a Senator.

Calli wanted to hug him but fought her instinct. Who knew how this would play out if she gave into her desires? "You look handsome, Leo." Her nickname for him. A test against the test she was in. Calliope had a million questions to ask to piece together just what was expected of her to do in this scenario. She figured she would ask about the elephant in the room. Or rather, the lack of the elephant. "I imagine father is very proud. Where is he?"

There was a short, sharp inhale from where her mother stood, and Leo only looked down.
"That's...that's not funny, Calli." He said, his face solemn and his voice steady but somber. "You know he died. That's why I ran the campaign in the first place. You were there, sis."

Calli knew. In her heart, she knew this was the intended outcome. They didn't want to go the easy route and torment her with the man who did so for 18 years. They tried to dig the knife in and twist it with the ones who cared somewhat. Her mother did to an extent but it was always her brother who stood by her. Their little night rendevous after they were sure their parents were asleep. The way he stood for her in school whenever she was ridiculed by her classmates, often because of her father's politics impacting their families but sometimes delving into racial undertones.

Calli looked down at her feel as a small smile crept up on her lips. She shook her head. "No he isn't." She looked back up at Leo, not giving her mother the satisfaction of a reaction. "No, he isn't. A monster doesn't die. No matter how many times you cut off the head three more are put in its place. This is a lie. My Leo would die before he ever put himself in our father's shoes. And you," she said turning to her mother, "You were never there either. You allowed the harsh words, the fists, the bruises, and you stood idly by. Part of me pitied you because I expected you to deal with possibly worse but you only found solace at the end of a bottle."

Calli took a step back, turning her head to the ceiling. "I am not going to continue with this charade. I don't know if you expected me to be complacent in having my family show actual emotion and affection but it won't work. These fake images of my family shocked me, I'll admit. But I made my peace with them a while ago. So do your worst."

Leo looked up from the floor, stepping forward and putting a hand on Calliope's shoulder. He took a long look at his sister, and his face - previously so serene and gentle - warped into a disdainful sneer.
"Dad was right about you. You're so ungrateful."

Calliope shrugged off her brother's hand and backed away, looking around to see her mother approaching with that same sneer plastered across her face. Alexandria and Leonardo began speaking together, their voices blending into one terrible chorus.
"Everything we gave you, you threw back at us. Okay, fine - you wanted to be a fault-finding, spiteful little bitch."
They were herding her into the corner of the room, their faces warped beyond recognition. Her mother wore the crayon-frown of a 15-year-old drawing Calliope had long forgotten.
"So if that wasn't appreciated, we thought, why not give her exactly what she wants? Hand her the saccharine family, the dead abuser, the brother she misses and a mother who gives a shit."

Behind Calliope, the previously-sunlit living room stretched away, yawning into more white corridors and sterile laboratories.
"But no. Even that wasn't good enough for precious princess Calliope, was it?"
Whatever had been imitating her brother and mother was no longer recognizable as human. The clothes remained, but the flesh beneath was misshapen. The faces were hard to look at.
"So fine. You want worst. So we'll stick you with needles, we'll zap your stupid little brain, we'll strap you down, we'll pull every inch of all those flat, guarded emotions out of you until you don't even remember what they felt like to repress, let alone feel."

'Mother' and 'Brother' no longer - a third voice had joined the chorus and dominated both of the previous, a deeper, sterner voice that Calliope was all-too-familiar with.
"Come here, Calliope. We're going to finally, permanently, make you perfect."

Calliope saw her "family" change and alter along with the room around them. As she backed away from the creatures that had taken over the form of her brother and mother, she looked for exits. It wouldn't be as easy as last time and freezing the door controls. This was meant to warp her mind.

"I wanted this years ago. Giving this to me now changes nothing. I found my family and that doesn't include you monsters!"

She turned to face the voice that called out—finally giving her what she had expected. She felt her pulse increase. Beads of sweat on the back of her neck. Even to this day, even after years away, he still did this to her. It still made her feel like she needed to hide. She could feel the sides of her vision warp and blur. She closed them. Took deep breaths.

No.

Not this time.

"If you want me so badly, come at get me. But I am warning you," Calli lifted her hands, forming an icy aura around her hands, "I won't be so easily controlled."

"Don't worry, child." The amalgamated beast stepped closer, pushing Calliope down the corridor. Her father's voice overwhelmed her, drowning out her brother and mother now just as he had in life. "Your 'new family' of freaks will be joining you."

Father paused as Calliope stood her ground, preparing herself. The fused heads looked at the frost forming around her with something approaching caution. "Still so insolent. You never learnt to respect your elders. Never learnt to respect your father!"
It raised its own hands, flames twinkling in its palms before erupting into full blasts; short spouts of fire burst forth and spilled out onto the walls and ceiling. The blast ceased as their surroundings flickered with the start of a full fire, and then it levied its pilot-light hands at Calliope, matching her stance.
"Now we'll finally see about melting down the Ice Queen."

Calliope felt the intense heat surrounding her on the walls and ceiling and she felt her powers diminish, but not disappear altogether. She could still fight. Whatever this thing was though could hurt her. She put up her fists and pointed at Father. "You don't get to control me anymore! I'm strong-," Her words were quickly snuffed as a blast of fire surged forth, sending her spiraling down the hallway. She shook herself, stood up, and looked at her outfit. Rips and patches formed from the fire leaving scarred skin in its wake.

Calli couldn't fight in the hall. Father's fire was too much in a condensed setting. So she turned and ran down the corridor, looking for some out.

"Not so brave without your boyfriend! And when were you going to introduce me to that waste of air?" He sent a fire blast, narrowly missing Calli as she dodged to the left. "When are you going to realize you are nothing without someone to oversee you?" Another blast, hitting her foot as she stumbled and felt the burn. She got up and continued, limping a bit more now. "All these expectations placed on your shoulders and you dare consider yourself the Mother of the group when you don't even know your own mother!"

She heard a snickering laugh and turned to look back. Not only was Father storming down, but quickly joining him was Mother. Both of them twisted forms. "Mother's here now Calliope. Come give me a hug!" Her mother's voice was distorted like static was woven through it. It was as if darkness had laced itself in each word.

Calliope nearly ran into a wall and turned the corner. She was quickly followed by Father and Mother. "Everyone on your team hates you Calliope. How could they not? You had a panic attack because things didn't go your way. A Princess locked in a tower expecting everyone to drop what they are doing and save you? You couldn't even save your own brother!"

Calliope closed her eyes, holding back the tears that tried to flood forth. The words were things she had said to herself before. Another voice joined the chorus. "Yeah Calliope. I needed you. I needed acceptance and love and all I got was weakness. You think you had it rough? At least Father's expectations could be reached if you gave a damn. I was never going to live up to his ideal image of me! And I lost so much time and life making sure you were protected! Why couldn't you protect me!"

Calliope opened her eyes and saw an opening, but before she could reach she felt a force knocking her forward into the empty room. She stumbled and rolled before she felt a crushing weight on her. She screamed and looked. What was once Father, Mother, and Brother was now an amalgamation of all three. Twisted in some dark mass of hatred. Their faces were still shown, but it was as if her childhood drawings had come to life. There was blackness where eyes should be and sharp fangs for teeth as each face writhed amongst the shadow beast. "You called me a monster Calliope," each voice rang out in unison, "Let me show you a monster!" Brother's face came forth, sinking its teeth into her arm as she screamed again. "You are pathetic! If you cannot be perfect you are better off dead!" Mother's face lashed her tongue, or what should have been a tongue, as it scraped along Calliope's cheek, drawing blood.

"Dead."

"You should be dead."

"Die already"

"Do the world a favor and accept it."

"Pathetic"

"Weak"

"Childish"

"Damsel in Distress"

Calliope felt each word sink in. Every word of contempt she held for herself echoed in the dark room. She clenched her fist.

No.

"I. Am. Not..." Callioe felt a surge within her. It was a mix of fear and power. It was as if her bones were surging with electricity. A fire formed in her gut. A storm in her brain.

No it was more.

It was ice.

"WEAK!"

Calliope surged forward, unleashing a kaleidoscope of ice shrapnel from within her, smashing into the Family's face as it was booted away. Calliope stood up, albeit slowly, and put her hands up, forming two ice shard daggers. "I will not deny your words because they are words I say to myself daily. But I am not under your control anymore. I refuse to let you win. Every day I wake up and am proud of myself, I defy you. Whenever I help a friend or do well in a class I defy you. When I look myself in the mirror and like the girl I see I defy you. When I kiss the man I love and think of a future with him, I FUCKING DEFY YOU!"

The Family got up and turned its faces at her. Each with anger and hatred. Calliope was afraid. She was scared and nervous and panicked. But she was not dead. And she would not let them win.

"You are not my family anymore. So fuck you!"

The Family screamed an unholy cry as it lurched. Calli ran forward meeting it. She dodged the tendril it shanked on her right as she dug one of the ice daggers into it and dragged it forward. Black ooze fell out. Another tendril in front of her. She jumped, removing the dagger and slamming both down on the front tendril as more ooze shot out. She ran as Brother's face got in front of her. She left both daggers in the arm as she formed a spear out of ice and, ducking under, shot it forward through Brother's chin and out his eye as he screamed. Black ooze covered Brother's face.

Father shot forth fire as Calli pulled up an ice block. Fire met ice as both forces tried to overpower the other. She felt her ice melt and the fire sent her reeling back. Mother appeared, lashing her tongue as it wrapped around Calli's ankle, pulling her toward. Callioe scrambled and, thinking quickly, grabbed the tongue and sent forth ice, freezing it before she smashed it with her other foot. Mother screamed as black ooze fell out of her mouth.

Calliope quickly got up as Father came forward. He sent more fire as Calliope shot ice. She dodged to the side as the fire missed her and she ran around. Father turned to face his prey. "Alive or not, you will always be dead to me!" Calliope ran forward and shot a mass of ice shards directly in Father's face. Each piercing dripped black ooze as he screamed in agony. Each Family member screamed in chorus. What Calliope had not realized was the black ooze forming around her. Before she knew it, it was on her feet, then legs, then stomach. She soon became wrapped in a shadow as she heard the screams of her family echo and echo until...

Silence.

---

Calliope opened her eyes and sat up quickly. She looked around her. No longer was she in the room. The Family was gone. She felt each ache and bruise, each cut. She stood up slowly, feeling pain course through her body. She didn't know where she was, but she needed to find the others. She needed to find Gil. She needed Banjo.

She needed her family.

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

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_{Location: Southern Plateau, Dundas Island - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #2.022: Under Water, Above Board

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_{Interaction(s): Banjo (@Hound55), Gil (@Roman)}

Previously: Perfectionist

Calliope took some centered breaths despite all around her. Her eyes were shut and darkness was all she saw. Despite this, it was a measured peace. Until she heard her voice. What was once associated with an internal monologue she struggled against every day, this one was corporeal. Or at least as much as can be. Calliope’s eyes shot open as another her stepped forward. It was like looking in a mirror. Except this mirror was laced with venom. If condescension was a person, it would be this figure. Another Calliope and one that mocked her and the others. She wasn’t alone though as another Katja stepped forward, one itching for blood.

Calliope tentatively stood up, her breath shaking as she was about to reach for Banjo. More for assurance than anything. Before she could, the duo taunted them one last time before they were shifted elsewhere. It took her time to adjust to her new surroundings.

Eventually, she centered herself and looked around. In the athletic field were scattered machinery in various forms of destruction. They were moved from the others—more than likely in an attempt to separate them further. The intentions were clear: they were not expected to get out of this alive.

Soon the sound of moving parts drew her attention as one of the robots turned to look at them. Followed by another. And another. And another. Red, raw eyes.

“I…I think we’re in trouble.” She said with a shaky breath. Knowing it was not the time to fall apart. Not yet.

She was rattled. Rattled but not broken. Pushed by a drive towards perfection from a domineering presence over her life, ‘trouble’ was to be feared. To her, the trouble was to be avoided at all costs.

Trouble was where Banjo lived.

“It’s alright. Through it is the one way out of this. So we’re gettin’ through it. Together.”

He turned and saw the third wheel. Gil.

“And him too, I guess…”

“Buddy, I’m as glad that I’m here as you are, so can it.” Gil responded, the rapidly-swinging events around them grating away all his usual patience and good-nature. The Trials were never safe safe, but the university was always in control, and that was an important distinction to make - and one that no longer applied. Gil wasn’t going to wait around to test how much damage the projection-and-neural-uplink combination was really capable of.

Banjo took no small amount of pleasure in watching the cracks appear in Gil’s usual facade in the absence of the others from their team. “Typical.” He thought to himself, reaffirming his previous opinions of the actor, a wry smirk creasing across his face.

Gil tapped his fingers together in a quick, unconscious tic as he ran his eyes over everything that surrounded them. The bots were an obvious threat, and Gil hoped they didn’t have anything flashy up their sleeves, and even if the dome and the oceanic environ beyond it were illusions conjured by projection and their neural uplinks, those same tricks would make the several-thousand-tons of water crashing down on them feel very, very real if it were to break through the glass. Up wasn’t an option, and the bots began to crowd them, herding them toward the center of the arena, and away from the doors at the far end.

“It’s a trap.” He said aloud, and then cursed himself for being so incredibly, dim-wittedly obvious as the Australian’s sarcastic reply was little more than a singular eyebrow raise. He quickly corrected himself, his voice doubling and then tripling as Gils 2 and 3 stepped forth from him to prepare for the incoming bots. “What we mean is, whoever this is is trying to keep us stuck in here,” he indicated to the bots beginning to circle them, “and away from those doors. So I reckon that’s our best way out.”

Calliope took some more controlled breaths. She glared at Banjo after his comment about Gil. “You both can put whatever feelings you have for the other aside. We are working together here or we’re dead.” Calli looked around when Gil pointed out the dome and the water. She didn’t want to add that she didn’t put it past the Foundation or whoever set this up to make it so it still felt like they were drowning, even if they weren’t.

She looked around and noticed Gil was right. The robots were doing their best to crowd-control them to the center. If nothing else it was a plan. It was better than pretend drowning in this space. “Ok, take down the robots and I will freeze the door controls. Afterwards, Banjo can use his powers to break the lock, hopefully leading elsewhere. Keep the robots at bay in the meantime. Sound good to everyone?”

“Sounds fantastic. I mean they’re only training robots. Likely training robots with the safeties probably disabled, but–”

As Banjo spoke, they began to reassemble themselves. They were modular in nature and even capable of combining to become even larger threats, as a few were even demonstrating now. Most simply took the quickest means to becoming a threat once again, reforming to attack as singular units.

“Better make a move, anyhow.” He sprinted across the arena and threw a shoulder into the first robot, driving it into a second which broke apart as it attempted to reassemble.

He grabbed a stray robot limb and began clubbing other robots with it, making sure to keep moving and not stay in any one place too long.

“See? Easy bloomin’ peasy!” He said. Standing once again, amidst an arena of separated individual robot parts.

…which once again began to seek to reassemble.

“Until they do that…” The robot arm he was holding tried to turn itself on its hydraulics to grab a hold of his throat. “Gah!” Banjo threw it back in the pile, where it reattached itself to another torso. “And of course, meanwhile we get more and more tired with every pass.”

Calliope didn’t need much as she ran towards the door. Some of the robots seemed to sense her goal and got in front of her. Calliope quickly formed an ice shard, sending it careening into and through one of the robots in front of her. She sped forward unleashing a roundhouse kick against the sharded bot as it slammed backward into another one pushing the shard through it as well.

She sped around them but was grabbed by another and pulled her in. She put her palm on its chest and began freezing it from the inside. The robot tightened its grip as she saw ice particles forming. When satisfied she punched through it and pushed it away, sending it to the ground. She could see them reforming, but it still took them some time.

She maneuvered around and got to the door. “I’m here. Keep them off me!” She put her hands on the door controls and summoned as much power as she could. Thankfully the room itself was not without some moisture as she gradually began to freeze the controls.

Gil meanwhile had leapt into the fray behind Banjo, grateful for the projected nature of the Trials as punches and kicks connected with what represented metal but thankfully wasn’t quite as rigid beneath their blows; it still felt just as bad when the retaliation met flesh, though, and Gil could feel bruises blooming beneath his skin already. The trio worked methodically, bouncing bots and each other off themselves, using the momentum to land stronger hits. They had no solar-powered strength or fancy cryokinetics to fall back on; all Gil had was numbers, and he needed to use them.

Gil whipped his head around as Calliope yelled out, pouring her focus into the door. With quick hand signals he gestured to Gil2 and Gil3, and the pair nodded in understanding: cover Calliope. Get that door open. They departed quickly, sprinting across the arena to fend off the bots coming for the ice queen.

The original, meanwhile, scooped a scrap piece of metal rod that had flung off a battered bot and hefted it in his hand, taking a long backhand swing at the nearest approaching bot and following-through as hard-light metal met hard-light metal and sent the bot careening away, sparks flying. A second, identical rod appeared in Gil’s other hand, and with a practiced flick he whipped it through the air; his aim was true, and the sharp, snapped end of the replica rod embedded itself in the chassis of his target. Lights went out in the bot’s eyes, and it crumpled to the floor.
“They’ve got us eventually, by sheer attrition.” He remarked, ducking a swing and responding with his own with the rod. “We need to leave sooner, rather than later.”

Calli felt the tension behind her as the controls gradually began to freeze. She didn’t just need them cold, she needed them beyond frozen enough for Banjo to power through it. This wasn’t even a guarantee they would get out. On top of it, she still felt panicky but it was a mixed cocktail of anxiety and adrenaline. It was kind of nice to see that she opted for Fight rather than Fly or Freeze.

The robots could see her, she felt. But Gil and Banjo were doing their part and she really wanted to see how Gil handled himself in a fight. But she needed to focus. The controls shimmered as ice coated them. Once she was satisfied, she finished it, feeling the energy sap out of her. She took a tentative step back before turning back to the fray.

“It’s done! Banjo, do your thing and everyone cross your fingers it works. Even you robots!” Banjo’s influence: fighting while joking.

Banjo raced back towards the door, taking the opportunity to kick over a few more metal menaces in the midst of re-assembling themselves, just as she stepped away to make room.

“Right-o! And here, we… hup, scuse I, ya bucket a bolts.” He slapped a robot aside that stepped in front of the door.

“Go!” With a thunderous effort, he rocked back and stomped a boot into the frozen locking mechanism, punching through it and leaving the door unpowered and able to be slid open.

“Go! Go! We’ll freeze the door closed behind us!” He called back to the others.

“Right behind you!” Gil yelled, sprinting for the door as Gil2 and Gil3 yanked it open while continuing to fend off the bots, now threatening to completely swallow them. Banjo was the last one through, and the copies let go of the door, allowing it to slam closed again behind Gil, Calliope and Banjo. Through the thick metal there were distant sounds of destruction and yelling, before suddenly being cut short and falling into silence. The copies were replaceable, but that didn’t make the doubled sound of his own demise any easier on Gil’s ears.

The trio turned away from the door again; they were in a corridor, sterile and stagnant like the ones from the initial corrupted boot of the simulation, but darker now. There was little light, and the hallway seemed to stretch on forever ahead of them, quiet and shadowed and foreboding. Cautiously, they began to make their way down. There was simply no other direction to go.

Eventually, they came to an end - one that crept up on them, surprising them in the dark, and then confused them with a silent, cryptic riddle. Three doors embedded into the wall, humble and unassuming, but labeled thusly:

CALLIOPE. ANDREW. GIL.

Banjo grunted out a sigh at the name on the door presumably left for him.

“These people… It’s like everything is bein’ done with the express intent of pissin’ me off.”

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Peregrine Mayfield

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Location: Mansion
Skills: N/A
Fit Of The Day

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Ok, Klara was cool. She was good people. Perhaps Perry was too quick to judge. "Oh thank you! I love playing around with fashion and mixing trends. Perhaps when this is all done we can talk shop a bit. I am curious what Asgardian's consider high fashion. Perhaps we can compare notes!"

Everyone else seemed ready, though it appeared Ed would not be joining them. Perry wasn't too surprised, he didn't seem like much of a joiner. "So are we doing standard Clue or updating it with our own rules? It never made sense to me to play a character that was the murderer and guessing yourself still won the game. Wouldn't a murderer be actively trying to throw people off? But since we have noobs here, the standard game would work too."

Avengers Academy 💥

Sabine Bassard

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Location: The Gym - Simulation
Fit of the Day: Gym Outfit
Skills: N/A

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Every bit of information she learned about this game made her hate it more. Who enjoyed being scared out of their mind? And it was worse since being targeted by whatever ghost this was could result in death. Gideon and Mary Sue didn't have much left. Dorian, to his credit, seemed capable of leading them and did so linking arms with her. She felt a surge of courage.

As they walked from room to room, Sabine kept an eye out for the ghost. What exactly was she looking for? "So any other clear signs on what the ghost could be? I doubt it says its name and gives us hints." She was more concerned for Gideon who seemed needlessly reckless.

She was thankful to have Dorian there who was knowledgeable about games in general. She hoped she could be useful.

Held Roll

Sabine is going to keep an eye out whenever they enter a new room for signs of the ghost. Perception skill if applicable.

The Season of the Enlightened

Timeline

1462: The first Enlightened start showing their abilities. No one knows where or why these abilities originated, but it causes fear and uncertainty worldwide. Enlightened, for the most part, are feared and attacked outright. Many go into hiding.

1463: Many countries enact laws forbidding the use of Enlightened abilities. Punishments range from indentured servitude to death. Some countries begin studying Enlightened and call for subjects willing to be studied. Many of these subjects do not survive.

1480: The Enlightened War emerges throughout Europe. Many Enlightened and their allies take up arms against their overseers and end up turning the tide. This causes many ruling countries to change laws surrounding Enlightened and allow them into society, provided they are registered. This is also when the term Enlightened is coined.

1500; Raphael St. Eustace established a School for the Enlightened in Great Britain with the King and Queen's approval. At first, the school accepts only men. Many young men travel from all over the world to attend.

1512: An Enlightened attempt on the Queen's life causes chaos to erupt worldwide with many calling for Enlightened to be locked up further or killed. The Queen makes a passionate speech calling for peace and not blaming the Enlightened for the struggles they have endured. At the end of her speech, the Queen demonstrates her own Enlightened abilities, causing an uproar.

1514: St. Eustace's School For The Enlightened starts accepting women into its halls. This divides the school into men and women's sections. Women appear to be more monitored in the school, leading many of the women to feel unsafe. The King passes away, leaving the Enlightened Queen to rule.

1536: More schools pop up with St. Eustace's help, the first being set up in France. Eventually, a total of 10 schools are established throughout Europe and one in Japan.

1560: The Enlightened Queen passes away, leaving the throne to her son. Many speculate he is also Enlightened.

1641: Countries begin establishing Enlightened studies, hoping to find ways to manage Enlightened abilities and use them for war efforts. Most projects fail. Notably a German scientist is able to synthesize Enlightened blood into an elixir he claims will give average human Enlightened abilities. The elixir works briefly but leads many to die painfully.

1666: A drug from the elixir appears and grows popular. The drug is called "empth" and gives a quick high with a random Enlightened ability. It only lasts for a few hours and is highly addictive. The drug sweeps throughout Europe, Asia, and Africa. Many government officials begin outlawing the drug.

1700: The Enlightened use their power to start influencing world politics. Many sects are formed, attacking randomly throughout the world in an effort to see increased change in power for the Enlightened. These people are called "Dark Embers". They are classified as "highly dangerous" and are to be killed on sight. Their insignia is a raven with one purple eye and one gold eye and an amethyst in its claws.

1770: Lady Rosemarie's Haven For Wayward Girls is established and starts small. They eventually work their way up in numbers.

1772: Lord Ingram Poe takes over as Headmaster of St. Eustace's School For the Enlightened. This is after his father passes away and gives him the title. Lord Maleficar's Traveling Circus appears in Romania for the first time and is wildly popular.

1800: Our Game Begins.

The Season of the Enlightened

Notable Places

St. Eustice's School for the Enlightened: Opened in the late 1600s, St. Eustice's School for the Enlightened is an institution dedicated to helping those with Enlightened abilities better manage them as they enter society. Generally, the age range for attendees starts as young as 12 and goes up to as late as 21, though there are notable exceptions when needed. Both men and women are encouraged to attend, though the classwork differs. Once it is proven that the student has accomplished their coursework and has met the criteria, they are introduced back into society during the school's "Enlightenment Soiree".

Mr. Maleficar's Traveling Circus: An assortment of acts run together by Mr. Maleficar. Typically those in the circus are Enlightened members who have rejected society for one reason or another or those with Enlightened abilities that have altered them so that society rejects them first. Despite the kind nature presented, there is a dark underbelly with secrets screaming to get out.

Lady Rosemarie's Haven For Wayward Girls: A group home/school for girls ages 8 to 16 who have demonstrated Enlightened abilities but, for one reason or another, have not attended St. Eustace's. These are typically girls on the run from their families or from the law who need a place to stay and a space to learn how to manage their abilities. The place itself is hidden away and very few know its exact location. Rumors abound as to what exactly is taught there.

The Season of the Enlightened

Notable Figures

Lord Ingram Poe: The director and head of St. Eustice's School for the Enlightened. He takes his job seriously and with pride. He is Enlightened with the ability to sense when someone else, whether they have awakened or not, is Enlightened and pinpoint where other Enlightened individuals are. He is a wealthy man and is experienced in armed combat. He does not have a wife which leads many to speculate about him. Are his intentions noble or is there more under the surface?

Mr. Maleficar: No one knows his real name but many know him as Mr. Maleficar, the ring leader of his traveling circus. He is Enlightened and opts to travel rather than be amongst his peers. He can manipulate and move metal and always carries a metal cane that he can shape at will. Despite his kind presence during shows, there is more to him than meets the eye. Rumors speculate abuse amongst his crew, though no one says anything for long.

Lady Imogene Rosemarie: The headmistress of Lady Rosemarie's Haven For Wayward Girls. Despite initial appearance, Lady Rosemarie was not born into wealth, instead making it on her own after her Enlightened abilities manifested and she denied entry into St. Eustace's school. Her Enlightened abilities allow her to blend in by shifting her image to fit her needs. Lady Rosemarie ensures the wards in her care are treated fairly and are taught useful skills. But what exactly does Lady Rosemarie consider useful?

The Dark Embers: An organization filled with Enlightened members whose goal it is to see Enlightened have power and control world events. While many call this organization terrorists and villains, many also see them as heroes and a necessary evil. Members are often called after as no one knows where they inhabit with many speculating they travel. Disastrous events are often labeled as Dark Ember attacks, but is it true they are as dangerous as many claim?

The Dead Don't Die.

Location: New York City, Verity's Office
Skills: N/A

---

---

Trudy eyed the new candidate as Trudy spoke. He was younger than her though that didn't signify lack of experience. How many times had she been considered unable to do a job or task because of her age? She showed them, of course. "Of course. Please schedule the interview for later if you can Trudy. I'd like to get to know Mr. Atkins here." Trudy nodded and sped off to do as asked as Mr. Atkins stood there. Verity gestured to a seat in front of her desk.

"So Mr. Atkins. Or can I call you John?"

"John is fine, ma'am."

Verity wagged her finger. "Uh uh. If I can call you John, you can call me Verity. Tell me John, why do you want to work here?"

The interview went on as normal interviews do. John hit every typical note in the book. She looked for individuality in her employees. Pizazz. Something that set them apart from every other John Atkins that walked into an office for a job. He told his strengths and weaknesses (doing the whole 'this is a weakness but actually a strength bit that grew tiresome). Why couldn't one be honest and say they were a-holes while driving? Or they enjoyed hearing a child cry? Or that they sold a family heirloom to pay off gambling debts? That's raw honesty and it would go far in this work.

"Well John, I think I heard all I needed to hear. Thank you so much for coming and speaking to us. You should hear back within the week if you got the job but any longer and I am afraid it's a no. Please have a nice rest of your day." She gestured for John to leave, hoping she would have enough time to prep before her interview later.

The Season of the Enlightened

Dearest Sir or Madam,

It has come to our attention that your child possesses what we have come to call 'Enlightenment'. That is to say your child now possesses strange and bizarre abilities that which cannot be fully explained. How we have come to know this information matters not, but do not fear. Your child is one of many with such abilities. We are sure you have questions and we are happy to answer these and more in an upcoming visit at your homestead. We ask that you do not let your child know of this visit purely to ensure we prevent any mishaps or misinformation spread.

Suffice to say, this can be a challenging time for parents such as yourself. It is difficult enough to raise a child with good morals and judgment in this time, but we at St. Eustice's School For the Enlightened believe it can be done without fear or concern. Since our school opened we have trained many young lords and ladies in the fine art of Enlightenment as well as many other avenues of study. The students are taught such lessons as finances, mathematics, social decorum, and how to best find your place amongst society with one's unique abilities. We have dedicated programs for both the young men and young women who join us and rest assured, we ensure both receive proper training for their futures.

To prepare for our upcoming visit, we would appreciate if you could have your child ready and dressed appropriately and fashionably for our arrival. While tuition to our school is free, a reasonable donation is always appreciated to ensure your child amongst the many others are provided for. If you are to have any questions, please feel free to ask. If all is agreed upon, we can set the schedule for your child to begin attendance immediately. If you are unsure, we hope we can appease your mind. Rest assured, this is, and always will be, your choice.

Kindly and Respectfully,

Lord Ingram Poe

Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP

They sat in front of the teacher, him with clenched fist hidden from view and her with her hands folded delicately over one another to hide scars, invisible and not. The teacher smiled warmly though her smile didn't meet her eyes. Miss Fletcher, 2nd grade teacher, absolutely loved her job. She enjoyed getting to shape young minds and see how they grew. She loved talking to them and hearing their wild and wacky opinions on stuff. This part though, this was the worst part of her job. She loved the children but she found, more often than not, she hated the parents.

Mr. and Mrs. De León were no strangers to the school. When she got hired for this job she was told about them (warned more likely). She was also told about Calliope. She knew Mr. De León was a prominent politician in the state and Mrs. De León focused efforts on her work but also participated in school functions, but this was not the reason she was told about them. Other faculty warned her to tread carefully and to not make waves, but she couldn't help it. Not when she noticed the children acting a certain way. And the young girl with the long, blonde pigtails was holding something in.

"First, let me say, thank you both for taking the time to come here and talk. I love working with Calliope. She is such a smart, creat-."

"Just tell us what she did."[ Mr. De León spoke up, interrupting her. Miss Fletcher glanced briefly towards Mrs. De León for some comfort but received ice in return. Miss Fletcher took a deep breath before continuing. "She didn't do anything wrong. She is doing excellent in all her subjects. It's more so what I am noticing."

Mr. De León stared at her and made her somewhat uncomfortable. "What exactly are you "noticing"?" He didn't need to do the actual air quotes, his tone signified them. In all her years of teaching, she had never had a parent so....confrontational. She had angry parents, sure. Parents who assumed their child could do no wrong and went to great lengths to ensure she treated their little goblin-like he was the second coming of Jesus, but never hostility, outright or not.

Still, she wasn't a pushover. Despite his political power, she still was in charge of ensuring his child received the best care. "With all due respect, sir, I am not insinuating anything untoward. I just noticed Calliope tends to...not interact with the other children. Sure she's kind and cordial when working on a group project, but she doesn't seem to have any friends. At least none I see in the classroom. And there was a drawing she did recently that is the reason I asked for this meeting." Miss. Flethcer opened a drawer on her left and pulled out a paper. She laid it in front of them for them to be able to see clearly.

On the paper was, arguably, fantastic art work for a 2nd grader. It showed what could easily be assumed as Calliope surrounded by some....blue aura. It was spiky and jutted out. On the left was two figures, one with black hair and the other blonde, much like Calliope's. Miss Fletcher could only describe them as...demonic. Instead of a smile, both wore frowns, but that wasn't what was immediately noticeable. In general, the figures looked angry. And the little girl was clearly crying in her, she assumed, ice shield. The imagery spoke volumes. Miss. Fletcher was no artist but she felt...malice. Could a 2nd grader show this emotion so clearly?

She waited a beat as both the parents looked at the picture. She noticed Mrs. De León put a hand to her mouth and hold back...was that a sob? Mr. De León just stared. Nothing about his body language shifted.

Once it was clear both parents were not going to speak first, Miss Fletcher continued. "This was during our creating period. I noticed Calliope opted to draw this time when she usually reads or plays games. When I saw it she initially tried to hide it. I assumed it was because she was embarrassed over her skills, though I am sure you can tell she is quite good at drawing. My concern is the......imagery."

"What I see is the creative mind of an impressionable young girl. She probably read something in your....collection over there that scared her. I wasn't aware the children in your class were given material to read at their leisure. It wasn't in the school plan from what I remember. She probably also interacted with one of the other students who put this idea in her head. I can assure you it will not happen again." Mr. De León spoke with authority. Every word was punctuated with determination.

"I am not worried about it happening again Mr. De León, I am mor-,"

"It's Senator De León."

"Senetor De León. I am more worried about your daughter's emotional state."

"She is a happy young girl. To suggest otherwise makes me question your teaching style. I wonder if the principal is aware of this meeting."

"Of course he is."

"Then I assume he told you not to follow through and you went ahead anyway. Do you make a habit of questioning parent's abilities to love their children?"

"I was not suggesting-,"

"I hope not. To suggest we are nothing but loving parents would surely be grounds for a lawsuit and I am sure at your pay level we want to avoid that at all costs. I assume we are done?"

He stood up and made a grab at the paper. Miss. Fletcher put a hand on it. "I'd like to keep that for Calliope."

Mr. De León kept his hand on it. "Let. It. Go."

Miss. Fletcher couldn't tell from tone, but she saw in his eyes. A fire. She removed her hand and he grabbed the paper and rolled it up. He turned to leave as Mrs. De León stood up and walked with him. Miss Fletcher could almost tell the woman wanted to remain and speak, but left anyway.

She wished teachers could drink on the job.

---

Calliope sat in her room waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sure enough she heard the door slam. She would have run to hide in the closet or under her bed but hat only made things worse. She knew she should be still and accept whatever was about to happen. She had her arms folded in front of her and dug her nails in her skin deeper and deeper with every pound of footsteps she heard on the stairs.

Eventually her door was pushed open and he stepped in. He stood there, silently, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She did so with a glance. He held up the paper she recognized from school. "What is this?" he asked. He had a calm tone, but a darkness underneath it. "A picture," she started.

She heard the glass shatter before she saw it. She turned to see what remained of her glass fairy she was given by her grandmother. Now it was jagged pieces on the ground. She closed her eyes, willing herself to not cry in response. That would be bad.

"No! What it is is lies! You have a roof over your head, food in your belly, and the best education money can buy and you remain ungrateful! I should not be getting calls from your teachers and being dragged away from important work! These lies are not what is expected of you and you know this. If I so much as hear that you are anything other than a perfect student there will be consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

Calliope nodded, hoping it would be enough for him to turn and leave. He stood there a moment longer. She could feel the heat from him. She wished she could freeze him out, but that would make him angrier. He turned finally and slammed the door shut. She released the chokehold she had on her arms, seeing the indents where her fingernails pierced flesh. She felt a weight inside her chest. She took some deep breaths, but couldn't control it. The room spun. She fell back on the bed, waiting for it to pass.

Was this what death felt like?

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Southern Plateau, Dundas Island - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #2.007: Perfectionist

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Banjo (@Hound55), Haven (@Skai), Rory (@webboysurf), Katja (@Zoldyck)}

Previously: Making A Memory

Calli woke up feeling warmth. It wasn't the weather necessarily, but the feeling of comfort and safety. After last night's events, she was starting to feel in control again. She sat up, noticing Banjo had moved. Normally, when together, she was nestled into him, but that wasn't so much the case. He had moved around last night.

He sat up and met her eyes, a warm smile on his lips. "Good morning love. I noticed you moved around a bit last night. Everything okay?"

Banjo looked at where they slept, seeing maybe what she saw, before answering. "Had another nightmare... Not anything that could be helped. In fact... I have a theory that when the present gets less 'noisy' you can hear the past a bit clearer. And... well, we knocked every thought, worry, and concern I might have for the present out last night."

She felt giddy again, happy to hear she could alleviate some worry for him. However, it still upset her that he continued to have nightmares. She knew his past was a fog with occasional glimpses, but those nightmares were ever-present. "Want to talk about it?"

"There's not much that can be done about it. And they don't make much sense to explain. I think it ties back into somethin' from back when I was small though. That stuff I told you about. So yeah, I don't remember anything about then either. Thanks, but."

Calli understood. She sometimes wished she could forget her past, but it was a part of her and always would be.

She stood up and got dressed, tentatively ready for the upcoming trials. She had to admit she was a bit excited to see her's, Harper's, and Mei's vision come to life.

Once dressed she waited for Banjo and grabbed his hand as they walked out of the tent and towards nourishment.

---

Their arrival at breakfast was met without much fanfare. Last night's events must not have been noticeable for one reason or another. Calli chuckled inwardly at the thought of the other people in their respective tents and what could have happened.

After grabbing some food for herself she sat and waited for Banjo to grab his before she began. She was hungrier than normal.

Something nagged at her though. It was like a sense in the back of her mind. Something was not right. She looked around, not immediately noticing anything. Was she worrying for nothing? Things were going well so it was only a matter of time for the other shoe to drop. But nothing caught her eye.

Until her gaze passed over three people altogether. Haven, Rory, and Katja. Not an unlikely trio by any means, though Katja joining the other two who had such awkward encounters recently was a bit surprising. But that wasn't it. No there was something deeper happening.

"What's up with those three do you think? I'm picking up weird vibes."

"No idea." Banjo said, as he drank his coffee nonplussed. "It'll all come out in the wash, anyway. Early morning, bad sleep. Probably just doesn't want people up in her business." He thought back to how much she glowed when telling him about how she was going to be bunking with Amma.

"She'll probably talk when she's good and ready."

Calli looked over. No there was something else. Calli took a good look at everyone.

Haven was trying her best to hide her feelings, but Calli couldn't help noticing there was...concern. Fear maybe? Or worry. Hard to pinpoint.

Rory on the other hand was worried. His bro showed concern at whatever was being discussed. This quickly diminished and turn to anger. That much was obvious to anyone with eyes. She wished she could hear what they were saying.

She didn't have to wait long as Katja stood up. Calli thought she might turn and leave, there was an intense anger emanating from her, but before she could voice this to Banjo Katja slammed her head on the table, breaking the plastic. Calli gasped and quickly put her hand on Banjo's arm. It was intuitive, the motion. What the hell happened? What did Haven and Rory say to her?

Though that thought left quickly too. It was clear by Haven's body language what happened was unintentional and triggered something. Rory looked....it was weird. He looked vacant. Empty. What happened seemed to make Rory...not Rory anymore. It was like he checked out.

Calli wanted to do something but was unsure how at this point. Katja was processing something, cleary, and she didn't want to make it worse. She didn't need to as the others got back into themselves and started helping. Calli sat back down, noticing she was halfway up out of her seat.

"What the hell..."

The first crack.

---

At the Trials things were...she wouldn't say great but at least this should be easy. After all, they built this. That gave them an inherent advantage. Calli stretched as others congregated. She was saddened to hear Mei and Pallyx had decided to leave, though she could hardly blame them. Especially Mei as it seemed Haven and Rory had some fun in the tent last night. "Good for them" she thought. Despite the awkwardness from before, a tender moment came from it.

They entered the Trials and waited for things to boot up. That nagging feeling came back. Calli looked around as the simulation started. Instead of the young adult novel adaptation, they put work into it looked....dreary. Sterile. It was like someone sapped the color and emotion from the walls.

Calli looked at the others who, in turn, looked at her, expecting her to own up to it or admit that she didn't do this. Her face fell. This wasn't what they wanted. It might have been a subtle middle finger to the Foundation but they ensured it wouldn't look like anything other than what the Trials should be.

“I slaggin’ don’t care for being a rat in a cage. Looks like the only way out is through." Leave it to Lorcán to step up when needed. She would have said so but she was finding words hard to get out.

Second crack.

Amma spoke but it sounded like gibberish to her. Amma walked off, determined in her gait. Didn't Lorcán say something about buddies? Why was it getting so hot?

"Perfect. It was all going perfectly...."

Last night, the announcement of their degrees, Haven and Rory, all seemed to warp into a dark mass in her brain. She fell to her knees. She could feel her pulse in her neck, every beat reverberating in her mind. She closed her eyes. She felt her check restrict. Her breathing quickening.

No, not here. Not now.

"Perfect. It was going to be perfect."

Of course it wasn't. Like everything she had a hand in, it went to shit. It always went to shit.

"I can't...Banjo..."

Fucking Foundation, she heard in her head, though not in her own voice. Did someone say it? She couldn't tell.

She only saw chaos.