ProxyInc

Gifted Tempest

Elijah Edwards

Tsk, the thought plumed with the milky-white wisp of this morning’s cigarette. Winter had come early, surpassing Autumn altogether for the citizens of Syracuse, New York. Not that Elijah minded, it got hot inside his workshop and as long as he stayed busy—he stayed warm. Though this morning had an unpleasant chill seeping past his thick jacket and into his bones. With a soft grunt he moved the cigarette from his mouth and flicked the ashy residue onto the ground beside him.

”Do I really have too?” Elijah muttered to himself, eyeing the clinic that towered before him. A week ago he received a letter saying everyone was to donate blood for some sort of genetic testing. Originally, he had tossed the letter into the waste bin. He had three big projects with looming deadlines he needed to focus on, he was sure that they wouldn’t mind if he skipped out on this. That was until his mother called to remind him to go. And then called again. And again, and well, eventually he got tired of the nagging.

Even his step father could be heard in the background, yelling about it being their duty or something. Elijah smiled a little at the memory. Crazy old man. With that he dropped the still smoking butt onto the parking lot pavement and ground it into the black surface. The sooner he got this over with the sooner he could go back home and get back to work. Even as he strode up to the building's double doors his mind was filled with heated metal and bright sparks flying into the air. He was almost done—a brilliant metal sculpture of a stallion rearing back onto it’s haunches and he was eager to complete it.

Warmth greeted him along with the sterile smell of powerful chemicals as he stepped inside. A handful of people were scattered about, most cupping silver thermos that steamed into the air. A few curious glances were casted at him, and Elijah caught a few double takes as he moved up to the reception desk.

”Um, hello?” he called out with a little half wave as he tried to draw the attention to the gossiping duo hovering around the printer. Both of them rolled their heads in his direction, but it was the smaller of the two—a petite little brunette—that flashed him a smile and disengaged from her chatting partner to come up with him.

”Good morning, how can I help you?” her voice was as chipper as her smile and Elijah felt himself falter a little. Morning people were a mystery to him, even with his early morning jogs he couldn’t muster the strength to people like a civilized human being. To put it simply, the woman before him was clearly a witch and was to be treated with caution.

”Yeah, I got a letter in the mail about a week ago. I need to donate bloo—“

”Oh, you’re here for the genetic screening! Bit last minute don’t you think? Most people came within the first few days of the letter,” she playfully quipped before settling down into the padded chair at her desk. ”Alright, let’s get started mister,” she trailed off flicking her dark brown eyes from her computer screen and back up to him.

”Elijah Edwards.”

He watched her lips purse into a small smile while her fingers quickly tapped across the keyboard. ”Alright, Mister Edwards, if you’ll just fill out the paperwork really quick then we can take you back and get you worked on.” The woman produced a small brown clipboard with thin white sheets of paper attached. As she pressed them across the desk, Elijah reached over for them. The woman recoiled, a shocked gasp escaping her lips. She had seen his hands— calloused and scarred. Elijah mustered his most friendly smile as he took the paperwork with him and said a polite, ”Thank you.”

There was once a time he would trip over his words to explain the scars. He didn’t like the initial reactions from the people around him. And then the small amounts of disappointment from various people when he informed them it was nothing tragic as they had seemed to hope for. Just a byproduct of avoiding safety regulations and cheap welders gloves.

Elijah ticked through the paperwork and handed it back to the receptionist. After a few more moments of awkward silence a nurse appeared from one of the corner doors.

”Mister Edwards, if you’ll come with me please.” She stepped back and motioned for him to follow.

Silently he followed the nurse, taking in the little pictures of patients and staff they had posted up on the walls. ”Getting the genetic screening done,” she asked, clearly making small talk.

”Yeah, that’s what the letter told me. Not sure why but who am I to question the government.”

The woman laughed a little before opening up a nearby door. ”It’ll only be for a minute then you’ll be back on your way. We just need a little vial of your blood,” she said in an assuring voice while she moved to fiddle some drawers attached the far wall. ”If you’ll have a seat, I’ll get started in just a moment.”

Elijah took off his jacket and settled down in a little cushioned chair. He looked around the room, he hated doctor’s offices. At least the ones for adults. For kids they got a t.v playing cartoons and vivid drawings of animals on the walls. Adults got a stock image of flowers against white walls and blue grey floors. It was cold and unfeeling.

”Alright, now if you would roll up your sleeves please,” she said while pulling over a little silver tray.

Elijah followed orders, rolling up his right arm sleeve and laid it down in the chair arm.

”Those are some nasty looking scars you got there.”

”I’m a sculptor.”

”Of what, broken glass?” she joked while slipping the needle into his vein.

Elijah laughed softly, ignoring the quick bite of the needle. ”Metal actually, I make metal sculptures.” He watched red fill the tube and quickly fill the little glass vial attached.

”Metal, eh?” her voice was colored with an impressed tone. ”You any good?”

”God, I hope so. Or else I went 20 thousand in debt for no reason.” The two of them laughed at his response while the nurse grabbed a small cotton ball and placed it above where the needle punctured his skin. She pulled out the needle and set it down before grabbing a small bandaid.

”Alright, you’re all set. If you go out and take a left you’ll find a little sitting area. There we have some juice and cookies waiting to help.”

Elijah pulled his sleeve back down and slipped on his coat, giving the woman another polite smile before slipping back out the door. I guess some juice and cookies wouldn’t hurt . . .

Gifted Tempest

Elijah Edwards

Elijah Edwards

Description

Elijah's form possess an air rife with confidence and ease as he stands at an impressive height of six foot three. His body is finely threaded with rippling muscles, a direct result of not only his livelihood and a rigorous routine at the gym. He keeps a fine line of stubble neatly at the square of his jawline, and a small soul patch combed beneath the bottom of his lip.

His rust colored locks spark like fire beneath sunlight. With both sides shaved while a thick, wavy mane is brushed back and down his back—save for the two pieces of split bangs that bob in front of dark blue eyes.

The only jewelry he wears are the two small silver hoops in his left ear, and the thick metal circle that swings from a corded thread from his neck. The necklace a keepsake of his first success with smelting.

His height alone tends to draw eyes, and so Elijah takes care in his appearance. Making sure to press his button up shirts and dark dress pants. He has a penchant for long sleeved shirts which he folds to sit a little past his elbows. Both arms are littered with tiny white scars and burns—the price you pay when you work with metal.

Age

Twenty-nine

Sex

Male

Sexuality

Pansexual

Power

Alchemy

Alchemy is the scientific process of transmuting materials by breaking them down using natural energy and reforming them into a different shape. And thus creating something new from something entirely different. But to do so, one first must have enough materials to equal equivalent exchange. For you cannot create something more than the materials provided.

• First tier
  Upon the awakening of Elijah’s power he’ll into be able to transmute objects equivalent to the size of his hand.
• Second tier
  As he grows more proficient, the area size for his creations will span to half of his form.
• Third tier
  Now as a master of his ability Elijah will be able to transmute large masses. Creating objects a few inches larger than his own form.

Limitations and Drawbacks

Elijah's power is limited to the fact he can only create objects. He cannot bring forth false life or even give movement to objects that naturally wouldn’t move on their own. He also needs to draw the object in the air using some sort of writing apparatus—though what he uses doesn’t matter, it acts more of a conduent for his power than anything.

Depending on the mass of the object being transmuted is how much energy that is personally leeches off of him—basically if he pushes himself too far past his limit he risks causing his own death. And will need to take a full rest after transmutating large objects. Smaller ones use less energy and can be offset by simple passive resting.

History

Elijah's mother is easily his favorite person, a single woman trying to raise her only son in a harsh world. He didn’t mind not having a father on most days, but then again he didn’t know any other life. Together they were a happy duo. She nurtured his artistic side, giving him materials such as wood and clay to work with. It wasn’t until high school that the family dynamic shifted.

His mother had started seeing a man. And like most sons, Elijah was one would say cautiously optimistic. He hadn’t seen his mother show any interest in dating before, perhaps it was simply because she felt he was too young. Or maybe it was because she had been too busy bringing him up. Elijah didn’t know, nor did he really ask. Mister Harold Conway was ex military turned rent-a-cop. And naturally he had a more gruff approach to the way a young boy should be raised. Often seen belittling Elijah's love of wood working and insisting that it was, “A woman’s hobby.”

He pushed Elijah into tagging along with him to the gym and on his morning jogs. Conway making jabs at the teen's slender and scrawny frame. And over time they both began to see improvements—Elijah started to gain muscle, nothing bulky but lean muscle beneath his skin. He noticed his mother’s boyfriend egg him on less and less as they worked out together. Eventually he even stopped asking Elijah to attend the gym as the teen was already set and ready to go before the man’s first cup of coffee.

The only thing Conway continued to ridicule was Elijah’s passion. The boy would, in his spare time, soak thin sticks to make them more malleable then bend them into tiny sculptures to give to his mother—who proudly displayed them on various shelves. But Conway needled and needled him until Elijah, out of frustration, signed up for an elective called, ‘Wielding and metal working.’ He has initially signed up to throw his soon-to-be step father off his back. Something manly to offset the complaints about his ‘basket weaving’.

But it didn’t take long for the thrill of the class to take it’s hold. Manipulating metal was similar to that of manipulating wood—just more dangerous. And the final thing that cemented it was the fact Conway had finally been silenced. In fact, the man had even sprung to help nurture this new interest.

After high school, Elijah attended a third rate art school and pursued sculpture. It was there he was shown that everything he knew was wrong and had to be learned all over again, but he was better for it. He had started to sell small projects on the side for income. Then with some parental backing, opened his own business. As an adult he lived comfortable off his workings, constantly spending his off days learning new techniques and sketching out new sculptures.

Speech color code=D2691E

Of Blood and Magic

Morrigan Cade

Interacting with: @Scribe of Thoth

”You don’t have any annoying domestic habits do you? Can’t imagine our living space will be particularly big. I don’t imagine vampires can snore but still,” Maxwell's inquiry trailed off as they stepped through the night air. The mage had already started peeling off the small nuances of his formal wear, giving Morrigan a reason to relax himself a touch.

”Well, let’s see. As long as you don’t mind keeping the blinds drawn, artificial lighting, and me occasionally moving the coffee mugs—I think we’ll be okay,” he had meant for there to be more humor to his voice but the end fell flat with an undertone of longing. ”Man, I miss that first cup of coffee in the morning. Watching the sun peak up above the sky line,” he continued with a wistful look on his face.

He missed so much of what it meant to be human. And unfortunately his partner would soon be subject to the same bitter memories. At least he assumed that he would. With vampires particular weaknesses their partners would have to adjust to living in the way a vampire would. At least he has the option to see the sun though. The thought came at him bitterly before he brushed it away with a shake of his head. There was no use in dwelling now. No use in being envious of someone he would have to feed on from now on.

Morrigan turned his head back towards the mage, letting his eyes sweep over him as he sized him up. ”I’m sure as long as we keep our main messes to our own rooms, neither of us should have too much of an issue with the living arrangement.”

Gifted Tempest

Elijah Edwards

Elijah Edwards

Description

Elijah's form possess an air rife with confidence and ease as he stands at an impressive height of six foot three. His body is finely threaded with rippling muscles, a direct result of not only his livelihood and a rigorous routine at the gym. He keeps a fine line of stubble neatly at the square of his jawline, and a small soul patch combed beneath the bottom of his lip.

His rust colored locks spark like fire beneath sunlight. With both sides shaved while a thick, wavy mane is brushed back and down his back—save for the two pieces of split bangs that bob in front of dark blue eyes.

The only jewelry he wears are the two small silver hoops in his left ear, and the thick metal circle that swings from a corded thread from his neck. The necklace a keepsake of his first success with smelting.

His height alone tends to draw eyes, and so Elijah takes care in his appearance. Making sure to press his button up shirts and dark dress pants. He has a penchant for long sleeved shirts which he folds to sit a little past his elbows. Both arms are littered with tiny white scars and burns—the price you pay when you work with metal.

Age

Twenty-nine

Sex

Male

Sexuality

Pansexual

Power

Alchemy

Alchemy is the scientific process of transmuting materials by breaking them down using natural energy and reforming them into a different shape. And thus creating something new from something entirely different. But to do so, one first must have enough materials to equal equivalent exchange. For you cannot create something more than the materials provided.

• First tier
  Upon the awakening of Elijah’s power he’ll into be able to transmute objects equivalent to the size of his hand.
• Second tier
  As he grows more proficient, the area size for his creations will span to half of his form.
• Third tier
  Now as a master of his ability Elijah will be able to transmute large masses. Creating objects a few inches larger than his own form.

Limitations and Drawbacks

Elijah's power is limited to the fact he can only create objects. He cannot bring forth false life or even give movement to objects that naturally wouldn’t move on their own. He also needs to draw the object in the air using some sort of writing apparatus—though what he uses doesn’t matter, it acts more of a conduent for his power than anything.

Depending on the mass of the object being transmuted is how much energy that is personally leeches off of him—basically if he pushes himself too far past his limit he risks causing his own death. And will need to take a full rest after transmutating large objects. Smaller ones use less energy and can be offset by simple passive resting.

History

Elijah's mother is easily his favorite person, a single woman trying to raise her only son in a harsh world. He didn’t mind not having a father on most days, but then again he didn’t know any other life. Together they were a happy duo. She nurtured his artistic side, giving him materials such as wood and clay to work with. It wasn’t until high school that the family dynamic shifted.

His mother had started seeing a man. And like most sons, Elijah was one would say cautiously optimistic. He hadn’t seen his mother show any interest in dating before, perhaps it was simply because she felt he was too young. Or maybe it was because she had been too busy bringing him up. Elijah didn’t know, nor did he really ask. Mister Harold Conway was ex military turned rent-a-cop. And naturally he had a more gruff approach to the way a young boy should be raised. Often seen belittling Elijah's love of wood working and insisting that it was, “A woman’s hobby.”

He pushed Elijah into tagging along with him to the gym and on his morning jogs. Conway making jabs at the teen's slender and scrawny frame. And over time they both began to see improvements—Elijah started to gain muscle, nothing bulky but lean muscle beneath his skin. He noticed his mother’s boyfriend egg him on less and less as they worked out together. Eventually he even stopped asking Elijah to attend the gym as the teen was already set and ready to go before the man’s first cup of coffee.

The only thing Conway continued to ridicule was Elijah’s passion. The boy would, in his spare time, soak thin sticks to make them more malleable then bend them into tiny sculptures to give to his mother—who proudly displayed them on various shelves. But Conway needled and needled him until Elijah, out of frustration, signed up for an elective called, ‘Wielding and metal working.’ He has initially signed up to throw his soon-to-be step father off his back. Something manly to offset the complaints about his ‘basket weaving’.

But it didn’t take long for the thrill of the class to take it’s hold. Manipulating metal was similar to that of manipulating wood—just more dangerous. And the final thing that cemented it was the fact Conway had finally been silenced. In fact, the man had even sprung to help nurture this new interest.

After high school, Elijah attended a third rate art school and pursued sculpture. It was there he was shown that everything he knew was wrong and had to be learned all over again, but he was better for it. He had started to sell small projects on the side for income. Then with some parental backing, opened his own business. As an adult he lived comfortable off his workings, constantly spending his off days learning new techniques and sketching out new sculptures.

Speech color code=D2691E

As always, let me know if I need to change anything.

Of Blood and Magic

Morrigan Cade

Interacting with: @Scribe of Thoth

”That works just fine for me, provided you hold yourself to the same standards. I don’t think Id be able to handle trailing dead weight around—excuse the pun.”

Morrigan blinked, was that a bit of humor amidst the icy mire of the young mage? He bit back a chuckle, trying to pass to off as a cough. Meanwhile the party ebbed and flowed near the duo, mostly ignoring their existence. He noticed bodies starting thread through and slip out of the entrance.

”Don’t worry, I’ll do my share. I have a lot of hope for what is to come,” he said with a soft whoosh of air. Though breathing was a human thing, it wasn’t uncommon to some vampires to use it as an emphasis in their words. Such subtle things picked up over the years while mingling with humanity.

He cast a sideways look back at Maxwell, perhaps they would get along in the end? Help bridge the gap. Though it seemed almost an impossible task for him to take on. One thing at a time, he reminded himself. The first step was to learn more about Annabelle.

Maxwell's voice stirred him back from his thoughts, ”You done with this party, or am I gonna have the privilege of watching you have a million thrilling conversations about Lady-So-and-So’s dress with these gossiping hens?”

”You have to admit, she did look stunning,” Morrigan retorted with a wink before looking back over the waning crowd. ”But, I only came here for you. So, no, I have no desire to talk to more people I don’t know than I have too.”

He turned up his thumb and pointed it back towards the entrance. ”Ready to go see where we’re staying for the next some odd years?” Morrigan waited for less than a minute before starting towards the exit. He had come to do what he accomplished—meet the new partner, which only went mildly awkward. He was peopled and vampired out; more than ready to change into something less formal.

Of Blood and Magic

Morrigan Cade

Interacting with: @Scribe of Thoth

Morrigan's hand fell back down to his side, brushing off the blatant dismissal shown to him. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but every part of his brain urged him to abort the mission and walk away.

”What exactly are you expecting out of me besides a meal? I’d like to know what I’m going to be responsible for. Minimizes nagging,” Maxwell said with an underlying accusatory tone.

He could feel an genuine smile break through his polite façade, a nervous laugh dying in the back of his throat as his mouth spoke faster than his common sense. ”A meal? Definitely not a meal, maybe a snack if I’m being generous,” his words oozed with rye humor before tapering off suddenly. Morrigan’s eyes widened a touch while they scoured the boy's face for a reaction.

Abort. Abort. Abort. That was dumb, his inner monologue scolded him and his impulsive nature. This was not the time nor the human to crack jokes with. The space between them deepening with a heavy silence.

With a flourish he moved his hand to cover his garish grinning, racking his brain to find a way to move the conversation along.

”Anyway,” he rushed before Maxwell could speak, ”what I expect is very little. If you think I want to feed on you—you’re mistaken, but after today they’ll cut my supply off. So it’s not like either of us have a choice in that matter. But if it helps we’ll shoot to make it as minimal as possible,” he paused while letting his hand fall from his face and idly tug at his collar. What did he expect from the mage? Protection? He didn’t want a body guard. The academy boasted that pairings were a partnership between the two, but did any of this really benefit the mages? ”Other than that I expect you to focus on your studies and for us to somehow make it through whatever the academy throws our way.”

It was as good of an answer as he could muster on such short notice. He couldn’t very well say, 'I want to be best of friends.’ Everything about Maxwell radiated that he rather be doing practically anything but this. And Morrigan wasn’t going to force it. If the two could form at least semi-decent relationship that was all he could hope for. For now he would give the boy the space he needed.

Of Blood and Magic

Morrigan Cade

Interacting with: @Scribe of Thoth

Tsk, Morrigan sucked in his teeth as yet another face didn’t match with the sullen looking boy from the photograph. How difficult should this be? He shifted impatiently on the balls of his feet, lacing his fingers together on the nape of his neck. All around him pairs mingled and began to split off. While here he stood off to the side, occasionally bouncing onto the tips of his toes as he watched new bodies come through the entrance.

”This isn’t going to work,” he came to the conclusion while springing from his spot. Morrigan wound through the milling crowd with haste, uttering apologies to those who those he occasionally bumped into. There were several brunette haired mages in the crowd; a few vampires as well but he could easily spot the difference between the two. The races truly were worlds apart it seemed.

Drinks circulated, blood for vampires and some sort of drink for the mages—alcohol he would assume. Something to help ease the tension between the races. The temptation burned in the back of his throat—to snatch a glass and gulp it down greedily but as he watched his fellow vampires nurse and sip with decorum he put his desire on the back burner.

A vampire stalked angrily past him, dark hair rippling with his rushed movements. Morrigan paused to watch him for a moment. Guess someone isn’t happy with his pairing. It was bound to happen, not all pairs were going to mesh. A new wave of apprehension washed over him before he looked back down at the photograph—what if they didn’t get along?

Morrigan pushed away the thought before setting forward once more. His eyes darting over every face that came into his field of vision. That was until a sliver of a familiar face peeked out from between two bodies. He took a faltering step backwards, aiming to get a better look.

Dark hair? Check.
Fair complexion? Check.
Sullen appearance? Double check.

So it wasn’t just an off day, Maxwell looked just as broody as he did in the photo if not more so. It was as if he had placed a wall between the party and himself with the way he stood. Is there a way to trade partners? the thought sat bitterly in his mind. He didn’t foresee this going well.

With eager fingers Morrigan straightened his coat and brushed his messy locks from his eyes. He schooled his face into what he hoped was a non-intimidating look and put on his best polite smile. With steps more certain than he felt he approached the boy, stopping about a foot away from him.

”Maxwell Alderman? I’m Morrigan Cade, pleasure to meet you,” he said while extending his hand.

Gifted Tempest

Imma just sit here, with my bucket of interest.

Of Blood and Magic

Morrigan Cade

There was a niggle at the back of his mind, a persistent reminder that things were off. Morrigan knew how his body should be reacting—still hung up on the phantom memories that lurked within the recesses of his mind. There should be a buzzing beneath his skin, fingers twitching in tune with an anxiety riddled heartbeat. But instead he felt an unnerving calm to his form. The feel of ice and peace that lavished every movement while his mind raked over the event to come.

Annabelle, the mere thought of her name sent a trill of excitement down his spine. Emotions weren’t cut off, not like most humans had speculated, but thrust unto a peak of a high. While his body didn’t react to the anxiety his mind bathed in—it still felt the pangs of joy at his sister’s name. It was his silver lining, the bright spot in his now darkened world.

He would be at the same academy she had been sent to all those years ago. And hopefully it would be there that he could find all the missing pieces about her whereabouts. Annabelle Cade, his memory sparked to life, she shared the same unnerving blue eyes he had. But favored their mother with her coppery tresses forever pulled back into a hasty pony tail. How he wondered how much she had changed.

And how she would take the news.

He felt the corners of his mouth twist up into a small smile, his nerves now being overrun with excitement. This was an adventure, he would remind himself. To enter the world he always was so curious about. It wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to learn about the relationship between the mages and the vampires—but by this point he didn’t have the luxury of complaining.

The car began to lull as it slowed down, he could feel the subtle lurch as the driver stepped on the breaks. It wasn’t particularly interesting sitting in the back of a blacked out car, missing the opportunity to stare out the windows. But Morrigan wasn’t going to complain—especially not after his first-hand experience with ambient sunlight. The burn had taken a solid week to heal. He didn’t want to know what full on sunlight would do to him. So instead he tempered his boredom by playing over scenarios in his mind's eye while they has drove.

He could hear the lofty chatter before the car pulled to a full stop. The sounds and smells spilling into the backseat as he pushed open the door. Morrigan slid out of the car and into the cool night, his hand reaching up to adjust the knot of his tie before stepping away.

The academy was more impressive in person than any photo showed. Had he been a man who breathed he would have been stuck gasping at the craftsmanship as it loomed over him. Part of him wanted to walk over and touch the stone, feel its solidness beneath his own fingertips. But instead his feet turned on their own accord and moved him into the main hall.

Vampires and mages mingled together, a sense of joy and excitement was only soured by the faint lingering of fear wafting off of a few select humans. Morrigan threaded his way through the masses. Everyone was dressed to impress—shining bright enough to put the stars to shame.

As he went he looked for the boy in the photograph he had been given. A sullen looking teen with muddy brown hair and what looked like a permanent scowl etched across his face. Morrigan wasn’t sure how well the pairing would be, but he was optimistic that the photo was just taken at a bad time.

A voice broke out over the din, a sound so soft that it brushed against his fraying mind and commanded attention with the authority laced within her words. The princess. He looked up at her practically glowing face. Her words sweeping through the crowd, bringing with it new invigoration.

For Morrigan, he clung to every syllable that dripped from her painted mouth. She was the visage that would start his new journey. And a genuine smile split across his face as her speech came to an end.

As the party began to stir back to its previous conversations, he pressed himself over to one of the entrance walls. His eyes scanning over the mass as he waited for his partner to arrive.

Of Blood and Magic

Okie dokie