Roman

Roman's Scrapbin

C H A R A C T E R S H E E T T E M P L A T E:
C H A R A C T E R S H E E T T E M P L A T E:

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Please use the provided skeleton below by using the 'Raw' button. Sections marked 'Optional' are not mandatory for submission.
For coding help, feel free to PM the GM(s) your draft.

F O R E N A M E S U R N A M E
F O R E N A M E S U R N A M E

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^_"..."

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P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N ________________________________________________________________________________________ NAME: | Given Middle Surname _______________________________________________________________________ PROCESS STATUS: | Active _______________________________________________________________________ INTAKE DATE: | TBD _______________________________________________________________________ DATE OF BIRTH: | YYYY/MM/DD _______________________________________________________________________ KNOWN ALIAS(ES): | TBD _______________________________________________________________________ PREVIOUS RESIDENCE: | TBD _______________________________________________________________________ CITIZENSHIP: | TBD _______________________________________________________________________ SECURITY LEVEL: | TBD B A C K G R O U N D B A C K G R O U N D ________________________________________________________________________________________ Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat P R O C E S S I N G P R O C E S S I N G ________________________________________________________________________________________ Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. C A R E E R W I T H T H E B U R E A U C A R E E R W I T H T H E B U R E A U ________________________________________________________________________________________ Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat

P H O T O I D E N T I F I C A T I O N P H O T O I D E N T I F I C A T I O N _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ P H Y S I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N P H Y S I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N _________________________________________________________ RACE: | TBD _________________________________________________________________ SEX: | TBD _________________________________________________________________ HEIGHT: | X'-XX" _________________________________________________________________ WEIGHT: | XXXlbs _________________________________________________________________ HAIR COLOUR: | TBD _________________________________________________________________ HAIR LENGTH: | TBD _________________________________________________________________ EYE COLOUR: | TBD _________________________________________________________________ HANDEDNESS: | TBD A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T S, & W E A K N E S S E S A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T S, & W E A K N E S S E S _________________________________________________________ H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || T B D __PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION || TBD __SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION || TBD __POWER SCALE || TBD __THREAT CLASSIFICATION || TBD Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. L I M I T A T I O N S || T B D Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. W E A K N E S S E S || T B D Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.

Roman's Scrapbin

R U L E S & G U I D L I N E S:
R U L E S & G U I D L I N E S:

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A P P L I C A T I O N P R O C E S S:
A P P L I C A T I O N P R O C E S S:

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➣ Please use the sheet skeleton provided in the Character tab to create your application. Feel free to add additional sections or information as necessary for your character - 'Supporting Cast' and 'Relationship Sheet' add-on coding has been provided should you wish to include these - but do not remove anything requested in the base skeleton, or omit any information from your sheet that may be pertinent for GMs or other players.

➣ The information for character sheets should be taken directly from the linked setting document provided. Applications that contravene established lore and setting parameters will be rejected. Characters created must be Hyperhumans; non-Hyperhuman characters are not permitted.

➣ Players will be permitted one primary character each. Supporting cast can be included in your sheet if these are necessary to your character, but due to the circumstances of the game, these would not be expected to appear IC. Second characters will be considered should a player's primary character perish or otherwise exit the IC in circumstances where the player hasn't simply abandoned their character/the game, but these will be subject to a fresh application and review process with the GMs.

➣ Character applications should be posted in the OOC tab for consideration. Sheets can be sent directly to GMs for coding assistance, but no review of character will occur privately. Please do not post WIP sheets if can be avoided, or multiple iterations of the same sheet; if you must post an incomplete sheet, please continue to work on it in the original post, and notify the GMS when complete and ready for review. Please do not post un-accepted sheets to the Character tab.

➣ Initial sheet reviews will take place from [date], and the accepted roster will be announced [date]. The GMs will be looking to accept a cast of [number] to [number] players/characters, and will review all sheets submitted by this time to create the most well-balanced and dynamic cast. Following this initial round of acceptances, any future recruiting will be done on a first-come first-served basis.

➣ GMs reserve the right to deny applications based on any number of factors that may make the character or player unsuitable for the game, including contradicted or misrepresented lore, poor character dynamic with other members of the cast, unpleasant or disruptive player behaviour, sub-par quality of writing, or lack of engagement.

P O S T S A N D C O N T E N T:
P O S T S A N D C O N T E N T:

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➣ Please contain OOC chatter/discussions to the OOC thread. Similarly, IC posts should be contained to the IC thread. Only accepted character sheets should be posted to the Character thread, and no further posts should be made here unless second characters are accepted.

➣ IC post formatting examples will be available in the IC zero post and GM posts, for both GM characters and GM plot advances. Feel free to use these, or otherwise format your IC posts however you wish; however, please ensure that on each IC post, whether solo or collaborative, it is clear which character(s) is/are the primary POV for the post, and keep in mind indicating any interactions if seeking direct links to/with a specific player/character.

➣ Players are expected to post within 14 days of the last GM plot-advance post, or within 21 days of their last post, whichever is longer. Extensions will be granted in extenuating circumstances, but only if asked for and GMs properly notified. Missing the deadline will cause your character to become Inactive, and if the GMs cannot reach you or a further 7 days elapse, your character will be forfeit and dealt with as necessary by the GMs in the IC.

➣ There is no enforced posting order; however, back-to-back posting is discouraged, except in cases of collaborative posts immediately following solo posts, or vice-versa. If you were the last post before a GM plot advance, feel free to post again immediately following the GM post. Players are encouraged to run their own character-driven scenes and sub-narratives; in these instances, those involved will be responsible for driving the sub-plot and determining any posting order and/or frequency.

➣ Players are asked to ensure their posts drive the current scene forward. If a post doesn't add anything to the current scene, and neither encourages nor offers interaction or reaction with/from other players, players are asked to consider the content of their post, and how it might be delivered in a way that better serves the narrative and the game as a whole.

➣ There may be times or circumstances that conspire to require specific characters and player posts to drive the plot forwards. In these instances, GMs will reach out to the player(s) directly, and provide information or direction to guide their post to serve the narrative needs.

➣ This is a game involving mature themes, subject matter, and individuals, and we cannot escape or ignore the in-character behaviours that form part of these. However, with that in mind, the Guild's official rules forbid mature/explicit sexual content - in these instances, please 'fade to black', or keep posts to a PG-13/14A standard (may contain violence, coarse language, and/or sexually suggestive content), in order not to violate RPG's TOS and keep the site a safe place for all players.

➣ In the interests of protecting underage players, players above Age of Majority (18 years) are barred from writing romantic scenes, situations, or relationships with players below Age of Majority. Of-age players found engaging in this behaviour with minors will be evicted from the game and reported to site staff.

➣ Please use common sense when writing and when seeking a relationship between characters in the game. For the good of the roleplay, the players, the site, and the hobby and art form as a whole, you are expected to adhere to these guidelines, and will be handled without leniency or delay if you fail to.

P L A Y E R B E H A V I O U R:
P L A Y E R B E H A V I O U R:

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➣ If you are taking the time to create and submit an application, the GMs will take that as an indication of commitment to the roleplay, and will be putting their faith in you that you will be committed to the game, that the character played will be consistent with the sheet accepted, and the player behaviour is in line with expectations.

➣ While the game itself will contain mature themes, subject matter, and anti-social persons, please don't let that bleed into OOC interactions. The world has enough problems - we don't need it here. Disrespectful, distasteful, unpleasant, or outright hateful behaviour OOC will absolutely not be tolerated. If this kind of behaviour is part of your character and forms part of the IC, please keep it as tasteful as possible.

➣ In all cases, please reach out to the GMs directly in the first instance with any issues, whether that be your own schedule, problems with character behaviour, problems with player behaviour, or even problems with GM behaviour or decisions. Please don't disappear unexpectedly if you know something's coming up; on the other hand, if there is an emergency, let the GMs know so we can manage your absence appropriately. Please don't sit silently and nurse grudges, or let small slights grow into large resentments. Please don't feel like you don't have an equal voice and can't share in the narrative being told or scene being written. We are all here to tell a story - let's work together to get the most out of this game for everyone involved.

Roman's Scrapbin

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T H E W I L D H U N T
T H E W I L D H U N T

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_{^{Gracious thanks extended to @Lord Wraith for permissions to use the Hyperverse setting.}}

C O N C E P T:
C O N C E P T:

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In 1984, Autumn Miracle, AKA The Crestwood Ripper, would make her indelible mark upon the public consciousness with a spree of killings across the sleepy New Hampshire town Crestwood Hollow. A short decade later, at the turn of the millennium, the self-styled Prophet and Savior of his own kind, Hyperion, would further wage a dire campaign of domestic terrorism across the American continent. The response from the fledgling Bureau of Hyperhuman Equality, Logistics, and Protection in both incidents was swift and decisive, successfully apprehending the perpetrators and putting a stop to their schemes, mitigating collateral damage as much as possible, and attempting to assuage public concern as the world began to reckon with the single greatest phenomenon of contemporary times: Hyperhumans.

In the three decades that have followed, H.E.L.P. have successfully forged a strong image as a committed and well-regarded instructional, rehabilitative, and benevolent force for continued harmony between humanity and this burgeoning new evolution. Through endeavors such as the Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, co-operation with international governments, and leading cross-continental research into, and education on, Hyperhumanity, H.E.L.P. are now the foremost international authority on Hyperhumans and Hyperhuman; subsequently, many of the world's governments consult with, or entirely defer to, the Bureau in matters concerning Hyperhumans - particularly when it comes to criminal, or otherwise dangerous or high-profile individuals.

With both indicted and convicted Hyperhumans often remanded into H.E.L.P. custody - and additional programs in place around the globe for voluntary submission into the Bureau's guardianship - there is, of course, a need for facilities wherein to house these individuals. Thus came to be H.E.L.P. Detainment & Rehabilitation Centers; based off the blueprints for the Bureau's notorious 'Black Site', a combined research/detention facility on Zayas Island near H.E.L.P. Alpha Base off the Canadian coast, the Centers were new facilities constructed with a more rehabilitative purpose in mind, but still with the capability of containing the more volatile residents.

It is to these Centers that those under H.E.L.P.s care are transported; via land, air, and sea, each arrives, gets processed, and begins their next chapter under the Bureau's careful supervision.

S E T T I N G I N F O R M A T I O N:
S E T T I N G I N F O R M A T I O N:

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^{◼ T I M E L I N E
◼ W O R L D H I S T O R Y
◼ H Y P E R H U M A N D E V E L O P M E N T
◼ H Y P E R H U M A N C L A S S I F I C A T I O N S
◼ T H E B U R E A U O F H Y P E R H U M A N E Q U A L I T Y, L O G I S T I C S & P R O T E C T I O N
◼ T H E A L E X A N D R I A F O U N D A T I O N
◼ O T H E R O R G A N I Z A T I O N S}

P R E M I S E:
P R E M I S E:

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Thirty years on from Hyperion's terrorist campaign, the Bureau of Hyperhuman Equality, Logistics, and Protection has successfully repaired their image and that of Hyperhumans world-wide, growing to become the foremost authority on Humanity's next great step, known across the globe for their world-leading research and education programmes, as well as their academy, P.R.C.U., and global presence as a calm and level-headed mediator in Hyperhuman-related affairs. With the world's governments trusting their counsel, they have in recent years become the custodians of certain criminal or otherwise dangerous individuals, utilizing their Detainment & Rehabilitation Centers to great success in helping anti-social Hyperhumans pave their way back to a fulfilled and purposeful life - whether back amongst the public, or within the Bureau's myriad branches and departments itself.

There are, of course, still those who believe all Hyperhumans should be segregated from the general masses, and further still those who would see this new branch of Mankind's future pruned entirely and wiped from the genetic record. H.E.L.P. is no stranger to these adversaries, but they are no stranger to safeguarding themselves or their wards either.

So when a routine Albatross convoy transporting fresh intake detainees to one of H.E.L.P.s Centers is shot down unexpectedly several miles off the northern coast of Canada, a four-way struggle swiftly ensues: H.E.L.P. trying to find the surviving escapees and remand them back into the Bureau's custody; the underground cell responsible for the attack seeking to finalize their work; the survivors themselves, now forced to forage and fend for themselves amidst the hostile northern Canadian wilderness while fleeing their pursuers; and an altogether different entity, something dark and ancient and evil, roused from a slumber the old world had hoped would never be broken, stalking those responsible for its disturbed rest.

Roman's Scrapbin

In 1984, Autumn Miracle, AKA The Crestwood Ripper, would make her indelible mark upon the public consciousness. A short decade later, at the turn of the millennium, the self-styled ‘Prophet of Hyperhumanity’, Hyperion, would wage a campaign of domestic terrorism across the American continent. The response from fledging organisation HELP in both incidents was swift and decisive; in the three decades that have followed, they have combined become a committed and well-regarded instructional, rehabilitative, and benevolent force for continued harmony in a contemporary world increasingly reckoning with the single greatest phenomenon of the twenty-first century: Hyperhumans.

Roman's Scrapbin

Title: Vēnāri

Concept: A group of accidental escapees/refugees wash up and are forced to band together to survive and outrun the forces pursuing them, while also being stalked by something altogether different.

Important items in lore doc: Timeline // World History // Hyperhuman development // Classifications // The Bureau of HELP // The Alexandria Foundation // Other Organizations // Notable Persons

Premise:

Rules
Sheet code

Sheet:
- Character Concept/Bio;
- Summary & stats;
- Abilities, Limitations, Weaknesses;
- Other skills & talents;
- Personal prompts - HIT intake questions for detainees
- 'In your own words, describe the events or circumstances that lead you to our custody'
- ?

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

_{Location: Debolt - Alberta, Canada}

Human #5.091 Fowling

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_{Interaction(s): Haven, @Skai || Rory}

The cabin was a fine home for two young lovers, but it made for a poor fortress. Haven and Rory defended their erstwhile homestead with level heads and good intentions, but against monsters, more must be brought to bear. Rory still in recovery; Haven still regrowing. It was simply not enough.

This is not to underplay either's effort; make no mistake, neither gave any quarter, fighting with their all to the last. Dahsáni was the first to feel their fury. Haven's muscles, lithe and coiled, brought the cane down upon him in ferocious swings, her agility winding her away from the quills so eager to find flesh and render her aslumber. The hard wood of the rod held firm for at least a half-dozen blows, but it was not meant as a weapon, and as it channeled Haven's heart-born wrath, it began to splinter and crack, splitting along its length before shattering entirely. Dahsáni was stunned and bruised but far from incapacitated, and now stood tall to advance upon his quarry; those barbed hands reached out beneath a wicked, leering smile, the pointless folly of her protest becoming laughable against the sheer inevitability of her capture. It had been so easy. Daedalus would be so plea-

Dahsáni did not register the full-soul war-cry from behind him until he saw the pointed end of the iron fire poker, so hastily exchanged, protruding from his chest, the tine of the tool slick and red in the rising moonlight. He brought his hands back to clutch it, as if in disbelief it was there at all; and then he was falling. Rory had used his strength remaining to launch himself bodily from his chair and leapt upon Haven's foe, using his momentum and weight to drive the poker in and spear him upon its length. He had aimed well, run through Dahsáni's heart; the last thing the hystricidaen man felt was the cabin floor beneath him and the cold iron within him. Blood sputtered from his mouth as he breathed his last.

A bloodcurdling scream erupted from behind the couple as Rory lifted himself carefully, pushing himself to his still-unsteady feet while concentrating. At first, it looked like he had goosebumps, but soon enough browned nibs pushed their way through his pores, continuing to grow. Stood to full height, his newly-quilled body bristled. The mere act was exhausting, but their circumstances were dire beyond exhaustion. There was simply no room for fatigue.
"You- you HORRID little wretch!" Came the outraged screech from Arachne, rising on her myriad limbs and baring fangs. Whatever there was of Mei when Daedalus had begun his terrible work had been truly snuffed out; there was only the beast left, a twisted reflection of the once-was girl. "You and your pathetic little tryst! All you do is ruin. Everything!"

Rory barely had time to turn and whisper:
"Run, Dove. I love you."
And then she was charging him, fangs and claws and quills trading blows. Kek sought an angle around the brawl to pursue Haven, their true target, but she was already turning tail, twisting on her heels and pushing herself into a full sprint; a few strong strides and she dived through the window, avoiding the locked and barricaded front door entirely. She brought her arms up to shield her head as glass shattered around her, and then tumbled into a clumsy roll as she hit the grass; she sprung up in an instant and her feet pounded the dirt, the truck in her sights; keys ratted in her pocket as she scrambled to retrieve them. The door was just there, an arm's length at most, and then she could get to town, seek help, maybe even rally others to her side-

Her world was a blur of sound and a feeling of rushing wind; bats swarmed her, their screeching like nails in her ears, tiny claws and needled fangs scratching and biting across her exposed skin. They pushed through and over her and realigned atop the very truck she sought as sanctuary; Camazotz stood in his terrible visage, looking almost bored for the trouble.
"There's no need for all of thisss. Come quietly. Make it easssier for yourselves."
"You make it easier. Why are you doing this?! Just tell Daedalus to leave us alone!"
"Father does vell by usss. Ve vill not disappoint him, after all he has done for us. And no longer vill you."
"Fuck you. Kill yourself." Haven spat, and then she turned and fled again, heaving the truck's keys at Camazotz' head as she went to distract him momentarily.

The woods thickened quickly once you passed the treeline's threshold, nature un-stymied rooting itself firmly and spreading far and wide in dense brush and fern and serried trees. The ground gave way to incline and Haven's legs burnt as she pushed herself past roughly past trunks and through flourishing bracken, her only thoughts that of putting distance between herself and her hunters, and of Rory; but even those were left half-finished, the myriad potential conclusions of the melee she'd left behind unthinkable. The one she desired most was so improbable she daren't let herself consider any other.

There was crashing and screeching behind her, and she did not need to look back to know the bat-creature was in fast pursuit. Up ahead, the moon shined in its full strength now, risen and hanging in the sky as the horrors pushed through the evening and into the night proper; somewhere below, down the hill trail, the dull electric lights of the town winked out as the people finished their days, entirely unaware of what had befallen the new couple who'd moved into Miller's cabin. Perhaps they'd be remembered. Perhaps not.

The trees thinned out as the incline began to plateau, and Haven realised she was cresting what formed the main ridgeline across this side of the ravine. Some scores of feet below, the river gushed softly through the terrain, but atop this precipice she had limited options. Diving back into the thicket would just run her into her pursuer; descending the valley was of dubious safety in the daylight, and out of the question under night's shroud. Her only real path was to navigate along the spine itself, though she'd be slowed having to watch her footing, and she no longer had a destination to reach - she was simply running mindlessly.

A thought - a terrible, irresponsible, foolish thought - crossed her mind.
"Stop this game, child." Camazotz hissed, rapidly approaching from the forest. "You vill only hurt yourssself. And Father vould hate his favourite toy be returned broken."
"Ah, fuck it," she whispered to herself, tearing off her hoodie and throwing herself over the edge into the open-air abyss.

The wind whipping past her ears and eyes felt blissfully familiar, but this was a far sharper descent that Haven was used to; fledgling wings flexed and spread as far as they could but they were still young and ill-prepared for true flight. Instead, Haven caught the night air amidst her ruffling feathers and tried to level herself out. Her fall slowed, but didn't stop, and she settled into a fast glide, not entirely controlled but still an escape into the valley below and one that wouldn't do too much damage on impact - providing she got that far.

She wouldn't.

There was a short laugh from the ridge she'd left behind and then the night sky was filled with the sounds of leather as Camazotz lifted off effortlessly from the edge of the ravine and pursued her through the air. He caught up to her easily, strong wings pushing him through the air with haste Haven wasn't capable of; in a last-ditch effort, she folded her wings up completely, holding them tight to her back and allowing herself to plummet into the trees below, arms outstretched to seize upon a branch or trunk to catch her fall. Even this was forbidden by her hunter - Camazotz simply dove after her, taking her arms in his flipping her over, using the momentum of her fall to turn and toss her back skyward, laughing as he went.
"Your tenacity isss to be commended, child!" He taunted, his face and voice filled with loathsome amusement at Haven's struggle. "But enough playing. Ve grow tired of your anticsss."
He seized her once more, holding fast as they twisted mid-air and returned to the ridge. Kek was waiting, tongue lolling from his mouth and venom dripping from the slick muscle onto the forest floor. Camazotz released Haven above his comrade, dropping her roughly in the dirt before him.

"Father," Kek growled as he advanced, his repulsive tongue sliding across her face and shoulders, "she's finally coming home."

- - -

The ground was cold and the air was still and everything smelled like stone and stale earth and Haven couldn't see. Even feeling her blurred vision and woozy head, the darkness was so full and impenetrable that it felt suffocating; she could feel the shadows coiling around her limbs and joints so vividly that when she moved her arm it shot forwards rapidly and surprised her. Her muscles were tense and laboring against restraints that simply were not there. Carefully, slowly, she sat up, then pulled herself to her knees and eventually her feet proper. Not once did the darkness shift or swell; not once did she hear anything other than the stiff and scraping noise of her own aching movements. She shuffled a few steps forward, arms stretched out into the dark, never lifting her feet from the ground but instead sliding them forward inch by inch, feeling for a drop or a step, half-expecting at any moment to be sent plummeting into a never-ending abyss. Instead, her fingers brushed something - cool metal, quickly found to be cylindrical as she wrapped her hand around it and the felt out with the other. An identical bar was only a few centimetres apart, and she gently ran her palm across a long series of repeated poles.

Caged. She was caged.

The sudden spotlights blinded her at first, blasting her face with powerful light that dazed and disoriented; she threw her hands across her brow and as her vision adjusted, she blinked away white spots in her gaze and saw she was ensnared. Thick and heavy iron bars boxed her in. There was a stained cot against the wall and a hole in the floor in the far corner; beyond that, the cell was bare but for bloodstains and fingernail-carved pleas.

There was more silence; long, stretching moments of it where all Haven could hear were her own heartbeats rushing in her ears; and then a short and subtle intake of breath that seemed to suck all air and atmosphere from the room and leave naught but a vacuum of tension in its wake.

And then, ever-so-softly:
"Haaaaaaa-veeeeeeen...welcome home, Haven...welcome to where we keep misbehaving children, Haven..."

Around her, more spotlights shone on more cells.
"Welcome...to your first proper day...of discipline."

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

G I L E M O R Y G A L A H A D
G I L E M O R Y G A L A H A D

_{Location: Ünterland}

Human #5.090 Faintly, I'll Go

---

_{Interaction(s): N/A}

The wailing did not stop for some time.

At first, Gil panicked; he had seen plenty, but knew there was far worse skulking in the darkness. It seemed obvious to him that some unseen horror had struck Hornet while both were distracted - the anguish in Hornet's lamentation was rooted in a deep, mortal pain, and he was sure he would witness her death right in front of him. There was a moment of selfishness; what would he do, left alone with another corpse in this place of the dead, vulnerable and uncertain and ill-equipped? But this was discarded swiftly for the ugly and disreputable feeling that it was, and consciously replaced with one of altruistic concern.

He rushed to her, prepared to defend Hornet's cacophonous figure from whatever wickedness had befallen her. There was nothing to be found. Despite her screams, the forest around them was eerily still, no snakes in the grass (or anything else besides). Still, with every passing second the dead branches seemed to vibrate against her keening, the forest bending to her echoes. Gil was filled with a sense of dark portent. The longer Hornet wailed, the further her woes reverberated, and it wouldn't be long until Ünterland sent something in answer. He had to get them out from the open. He had to get them hidden.

Her carapace was tough and her limbs were stiff but she was still pliant and Gil hooked his arms beneath hers and pulled; Hornet didn't resist but she didn't follow either, just curling into her despair. Gil awkwardly arranged himself around her wings and the spikier parts of her chitin as he dragged and cajoled and coaxed - hyper-aware of his surroundings now as the screams still echoed, he spotted the entrance to a burrow beneath the dead trees, and this was the best he could do under the circumstances. Steadily but with no small amount of difficulty he hauled himself and his charge toward it, first guiding Hornet down before following her below the earth.

The burrow was abandoned but oddly welcoming, not big enough to avoid stooping but the smell of soil was strangely comforting and the earth kept heat in; Gil expected it to be colder, wetter, but instead it was mildly comfortable and the floor had been dug into a dry, sandy layer that felt like...felt like the Bristol coast. Gil was perturbed to be reminded of something so homely and nostalgic in this nightmare realm.

Hornet's wailing had descended into wracking sobs and she was curled into herself in the corner, knees brought to her chest and arms wrapped and locked around her legs. Even her wings seems to curl around her waist, translucent and iridescent still, despite the muted light of the burrow. She seemed rooted to the dirt, and as Gil shuffled forward to sit beside her and laid his hand on hers in condolence, her sobs became quiet weeping, became still-faced and silent catatonia, before she finally seemed to slip into unconsciousness. With his hand resting atop hers, Gil slowly but surely followed her to slumber.

- - -

When he woke, Hornet was no longer curled in the corner, but up and pacing. Her soft footsteps thudded gently in the sandy earth beneath them and her arms were crossed; every so often she'd push a hand in front of her and flex the fingers, turning it over in the air, studying it. Maybe her neck would reflexively twitch to look behind her as a wing quivered, and she'd bring a hand to smooth it, gentle curiosity guiding her to run her palm along the length of the opalescent webbing. Maybe an antenna would tremble, and she'd bring a hand to touch where it sprouted from her forehead before following the appendage up, deftly held between two fingers. Each time, she'd pause to examine herself, before shivering and her arms once again tucked beneath themselves as she resumed pacing. There was something different about her; the mannerisms had changed, the gait wasn't quite the same. Gil rubbed his eyes and sat up straight.
"Hornet?"

She froze mid-step once again and Gil braced for the wailing to resume; there were a few long seconds and then she turned her head toward him, regarding him with eyes that registered him simultaneously as both cautious companion and utter stranger. Finally, she parted her lips and spoke.
“Abelle. Not Hornet. My name is Abelle.”
Gil didn't say anything.
"I'm sorry. This must be confusing. Trust me, I'm..." she paused, trailing off as she looked at her own hands again, tracing a single finger over the ridged chitin that coated her hand. "I'm confused as well. I feel as if I've woken from a long sleep; but I don't appear to have escaped my nightmare. At least not...unscathed."
She looked back to Gil, who had only raised an eyebrow in response to the shift in Hornet's - Abelle's - demeanor. Her mandibles clicked quietly and her mouth curled into an approximation of a sympathetic smile.

"I suppose we should start with the basics. What year is it?"
It took Gil a moment to respond; Abelle waited patiently as he cleared his throat and took a breath to answer.
"20...2028."
Abelle's eyes widened, and her wings fluttered, and her antenna twitched; but they were the only indicators of surprise.
"Nearly 50 years. So much must have changed; yet PRCU still stands? Yakob and Jonas really did it..."
She trailed off, lost in now-returned memories. Gil frowned.
"PRCU's dead in the water. Attacked and mis-managed into oblivion. And Kowalski and Lehrer? A dead terrorist and just plain dead, respectively. You missed it. Sorry."

Abelle drew a long breath, standing still and looking Gil hard in the eye. It was an unusual display of vitriol from him, and he considered for a moment he might have some unresolved feelings about the academy.
"A lot happens in 50 years. But I am here; I am alive; I am awake. That has to count for something."
"Where has this come from? Where have you come from?" Gil asked, and then realized he sounded accusatory. He backtracked. "I mean...you froze up, had a breakdown, and now you're...you're someone else. You don't move the same, you don't talk the same. Is this- is this you, before all of..." he gestured with his hand up and down Abelle's figure. "Before all that happened to you?"
Abelle paused, letting Gil sweat a bit as she waited to answer his indelicately-phrased question.
"In a word; yes. A long, long time ago, I was...'normal'. As normal as any of our kind are, anyway. It's all...bits and pieces, even now. But I changed. Gradually, gradually, then all at once. The more I changed, the less of me there was, until I went to sleep and only the insect was left. All those decades...flashes, at best. Trying to remember is like trying to hold on to a dream. Slipping through my fingers..." she faded out, succumbing to melancholy in her reminiscence. She looked from her hands to Gil. "But since being here, in this place - the fog began to lift. I can't explain it."

"I can." Gil said, his face hardening as he connected the dots. "Ellara - our guide - she made it clear we couldn't rely on our abilities here like we do back home. Something about this place - this realm - blocks them. Switches off the biology responsible." He met her eyes, and watched with sadness the spark of realization cross her expression.
"So I'm reverting because I'm here - and if I leave..."
"You- you go back to sleep, and the insect wakes back up."
"I...I'm not even Hornet on Earth. I'm just...insect and instinct. Dangerous. Mindless.." Her voice was small and despondent. Gil interjected, holding out his hand to comfort her.
"Technology - it's come a long way. A long way. HELP never stopped researching, innovating. There are inhibitors now - personal, wearable ones. Hell, they're probably hiding some genetic engineering, even an outright cure. Ways you could come back and stay you-"
"No." Abelle said, taking Gil's hand in both of her own as she smiled sadly at him. "Thank you, and I understand the impulse, but no. Jonas was right; being Hyperhuman isn't something to be inhibited, isn't something that needs curing. If HELP do develop a cure, I'd hope they'd have the good sense - the decency - to destroy it, rather than let something so ghastly see the light of day. Self-destructive it may be, but I believed in Jonas, believed in his cause and his vision; I can't betray his memory like that. I don't need curing. This is just the way I am; the beautiful and the terrible. All of it."
"Then what will you do?"
Abelle sighed.
"I don't know." She said, matter-of-factly. Gil almost laughed but stopped himself, and they shared a smile instead. "But it doesn't matter. I will decide when I need to."

MARVELS: Streets of New York

<Snipped quote by Theyra>

I think that also kind of pigeonholes him into doing one specific thing; someone like Blade probably wouldn't bother with any of the other events or crises that aren't directly related to getting his daughter back.

@AndyC

My guy you realize there has been more 'you can't play that' even when someone is actively trying to make the character fit (as we've been told we can!!!) in here from you and Retired than there is actual positivity and engagement-encouragement about the game you're trying to launch?

If you'd like some ideas to work with, I did post a decently long list of potential characters that best fit the concept back on page 2.

@AndyC

This no longer feels like 'here's a suggestion of characters you could play and a ballpark to aim for' and is now crystallizing into 'here are the sheets you can app. everything else is a flat no.'

MARVELS: Streets of New York

I’ve got “Carter Slade Ghost Rider who’s lived un-aging into the modern era because Zarathos won’t let him go yet and he hasn’t found anyone else suitable and/or willing enough to take on the curse in his place’ or ‘Johnny Blaze or Danny Ketch or Robbie Reyes Ghost Rider who has inherited the curse as Zarathos moves down the bloodline’ or ‘Nico Minoru something something something I just think it would be neat to keep a list on the CS of all the one-word spells she’s used the Staff of One for’.

If none of those tickle the collective cock (do you guys all have individual copies or is it a timeshare situation or is there a ‘shaft, balls, tip’ agreement, in which case who drew the short straw and has to wash under the foreskin? I’m at the end of this absurd metaphor now. Close parantheses.) thennnnn I’ll see you next time.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

What degrees of the supernatural are acceptable, and how much leeway in rewriting backstories are we granted?