Scoundrel

Academy 218: Why

Richard Fowl

Roaring waves of sea water rippled into streams of foaming driblets as it clanged upon the aegis of the starboard hull, bifurcating into smaller rifts of perpetual torrents. The breeze was frigid and unrelenting, pulling the warmth of a hushed reverie whilst howling within the subtle districts of the upper deck. Neither did it become a cordial nor pleasant specter for one to embrace as it continuously sailed its lucid threads among passengers who were deemed far from offering resistance to its unwelcoming temperature. Few sorted the unthinkable as they attempted to defy its upheaval, only to be remunerated by a deplorable consequence. Richard exemplified those who took the challenge as if he assumed to be better than any of them. Hands deposited within the warmth of his pockets, thinking it might abrogate the obscure ire of a bitter climate.

Clinging against the steel rails wasn't the best of ideas one could've mustered with. Its freezing surface gnawed a piercing sensation that stirred one's already fragile equilibrium. Nevertheless while being reasonably aware of it, Richard pursued as to balance himself from the vessel's bowed shifting. He felt the dizziness swirling around his unsettled mind, crawling a forceful retch that awaited its unpleasant release. Perhaps if the cold was far from being a bearable adversary, the unsavory plucks of seasickness seemed worse.

This is not the best time be alive.

As his mind raced against the discomforting furor, Richard tried best to rectify the nagging force when he let a belch of sour air escape from his mouth. Luckily, no one was at his proximity proven the stench left him grimaced, and without a doubt would compel anyone away from smelling it. A stream of his exhaled breath followed, barely noticing a frigid wisp of air decomposing its warmth. He pulled the shade of his hood, partly suppressing from the harsh rigidity of the relentless chill, vaguely fearing the likeliness of a frostbite.

Afterwards, he tried to proceed with a saunter, occasionally limping from a sudden pitch of the platform. Outside weaved a vast deluge of seawater, darkened by leaden foils of frost as his gaze was pulled towards it. The sky was swathed by uneven shades of black and cerulean, and through its extensive layer dwelt meager displays of stars, most unfolding a barely visible glimpse from its gleaming sharp dazzle. Beneath, laid a spacious picture of the academy but Richard mostly ignored it as he continued with his steps, aiming to reach the cabins and grab a thicker jacket. Never did he fancy an idea worse than wearing a filmy sweatshirt let alone pants made out of cotton. Perchance to illogical schemes like these were best buried underneath the domain of his ignorance.

Upon his path came an unlikely confrontation, forcing the youth from his sauntering due to the alluring view of one's beauty. Something was amiss, as if it was pulling him astray while influencing a subtlety of actions to deviate from his jurisdiction. Sights were set towards a blonde girl who stood beside the cabin's door, later on gazing for a particular moment of time as he dazzled upon the elegance she swayed. The warmth of his body easily rose and flailed the girded shivers bestowed by the vile weather, allowing the breadth of his chest to throb wildly from an uncertain feeling that was floundering his firmness.

Hello beautiful.

Words slipped inside his thoughts as a soap would escape from one's clumsy hands. He shook his head by the time he recognized how nearly close he was from falling within mesmerized thoughts. Still, Richard couldn't simply deny how attractive the girl looked but reasoning with his feelings lacked a certain notion of his understanding.

"I'd say, the fun they're having down there shouldn't be missed by the likes of you. Then again, we all have our personal definitions of enjoyment. Some happen to find it in the seats of solitude, like me as an example." He expressed a thin, brittle smile while adding an abrupt chortle ― something likely formed from sheepish attempts.

"Richard by the way," He nodded afterwards. "Pardon my intrusion, hopefully I hadn't bothered your time with silence as I failed to notice that my businesses should be of my own."

Truth be told, it was of his main intention and by stating his apology gave him a slight assurance to be noticed, or at least as what he believed. He continued his way inside the cabin while waiting for a chance to let the girl acknowledge his presence.

Scoundrel's museum of mostly redheads.

Spencer Dalle

Spencer Dalle

_{"Gingers don't have souls? perhaps."}

Spencer Dalle

Spencer Hartley Dalle

Nicknames

Spence - his older brother and most of his friends call him by that manner.

Age

18

Gender

Male

Sexual Orientation

Arguably an asexual

Grade Level

Senior

Appearance

A fairly tall individual standing roughly at 176 cm and weighing about 65 kg. Spencer's body frame consists of narrow shoulders, a set of lean muscles and an overall average build. What stands as a feature he's mostly known for is his fiery orange hair with a few locks of red reaching the upper strands. It's often trimmed regularly since Spencer dislikes people commenting about it too much. At times he'd wear a beanie only to cast away any attention his hair can get into. Concave cheeks build mostly of his square-like face along with his flushed chin. Thin eyebrows set above hazel eyes and a straight, thin nose which ends on a curved tip.

There's nothing eccentrically offbeat nor peculiar about his clothing pattern. On a regular basis, Spencer will most likely dress up with one of his polo shirts and a pair of denim blue jeans. Off school he usually wears sweatshirts paired with cargo shorts.

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_{"Do not compare me with bricks! Even though I can't get laid unlike those things I ... I ... we're done talking."}

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Personality

Seemingly a person instilled with a cold heart, or so as he claimed. Spencer has no qualms about himself as an individual and how he stands at society, yet he falls down on behalf of his insecurities. Although having friends of his own keeps him from seclusion, he constantly struggles to fit in a place where he truly belongs. Often so, he doesn't find - or refuses to notice - true company from people who've been welcoming on his side.

Understanding Spencer is like looking through a thin layer of clear glass but despite having no outside forces for it to break, it's likely to shatter by itself eventually. In general, Spencer himself jeopardizes his own life by the means of his decisions and a set of foolish actions. More often than not he is reluctant to accept things which do not routinely go by his notions, thus resulting to a stubborn way of progression. This doesn't entirely mean he's close to being depressed. Spencer often tries to rid of his afflicted nature but doing so requires him to use someone for the cause of it. He made a reputation of himself on being an asshole largely by bringing his miseries and hardships onto someone. Perhaps what's worse is that even when someone else is becoming a medium for Spencer's misfortune, he puts the blame on them nonetheless.

Through other aspects, Spencer is widely known for his satirical charm - mostly because of the color of his hair which probably has an ambiguous relevance towards humor. He's the kind of student who constantly winds up from his desk and more likely drowns on the sea academic stress. He'd only hope a can of cola can be relied on between piles of homework and projects. As for people, Spencer holds a rather flexible demeanor. At times, he projects an equal form of sympathy to others but doesn't go beyond his borders. As far as anyone knows, being profoundly connected to someone has its perks but to Spencer, it's a detriment. Being attached to someone is something he's largely indifferent of, or rather, something he reluctantly accepts as a form of his feelings. He doesn't consider it as a part of him, yet everytime he experiences it, he becomes resentful rather than indifferent. How his flexibility goes varies on the people he meets. If he ends up disliking them, he won't bother bringing himself up and would instead go to people who are worth of his time or just by himself.

Spencer prefers solitude over anything, though he can still find time to socialize but overall, he finds it unnecessary to a great extent. To him, being known isn't as relevant as it seems. He can find ways to prove his existence but nothing nearly matters when it comes to that. People point him out to be consistently cynical and often too deliberate in terms of dealing with school work. Though most of those are true, there are other things people failed to see. Spencer's outlandish display of humor occasionally shows how it's contradictory to his own self.

Likes

• Cola (one could not put into words how this human being relentlessly loves cola)
• sleeping for more than 10 hours after going through weeks of sleep deprivation
• late night depression through cramming
• semestral breaks, holidays and suspended classes
• literary fiction

Dislikes

• exams in general
• taking exams without studying
• cats
• coffee (old beliefs told him a cup of coffee has the potential to un-ginger a ginger)

Fears

Finals,sleep paralysis,snakes and teachers who look and sound like hellspawns

Strengths

• Pessimism
• An able conviction of success
• Cola

Weaknesses

• Chemistry
• His insecurities
• Unwillingness to accept change

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_{"I swear that if I ever hear another joke about my hair again, I'll burn your house down and eat your family for dinner."}

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History

Setting aside Spencer's uncertainties and his absurd personality, he is actually a gifted individual born with academic intelligence through reasoning. Teachers from his elementary school praised his exceptional cognitive skills which in turn, gave him several awards after joining a number of academic competitions. Spencer used the talent of his as a development for his future endeavors, which is public speaking.

Growing up, Spencer didn't have many friends as he is mostly occupied with studies and preparations for various school competitions. But that generally did not mean he was isolated. He enjoyed his life from its simplicity alone. Playing with his dog Wrecker made him happier than anyone else and seeing this made his parents contented with his social capacity; not wanting more for their son to gain any form of fame. Spencer didn't demand anything more but to have his life remain as it was ... until their parents decided to leave Canada and move to the United States.

Spencer's father was an executive branch director of an American finance corporation. What made them move to the US was mostly about the job and how Spencer's father was demanded to transfer to the corporation's main branch due to the CEO's terminal illness. Apparently Spencer had no choice since he wasn't in the position to make any changes and convince his parents to not move. They flew to the US, eventually leaving Canada. Spencer was just ten years old at that time but moving to another country became difficult for him. His new house, albeit larger than that of his hometown, felt largely unwelcoming.

Through the stages of growing up to his adolescence, Spencer was still the same, still missing his hometown but not having the sheer level of homesickness as he had back when he just moved. Only when years passed by did he learn how to accept the changes of the world far from his consent. Though regardless of how he assimilated with such acceptance, there was still a constant string of denial. Spencer always wished everything would go back from what it was before, back when he still felt his unwavering joy.

However, that did not stop Spencer from developing his academic skills and intellect. Soon after his parents heard of Ashbury Academy, they arranged plans to enroll him to the prestigious school while his older brother at another private school. So far, progress went by and Spencer still participated at various public speaking events and debate competitions.

Favorite memory

Everything about his childhood while living at his hometown in Alberta, Canada. What he misses the most are those days when he'd just wake up on a Saturday morning, play Frisbee with his old pal Wrecker (A purebred St Bernard) and climb up to his favorite tree across the neighbourhood with his brother, listening to music while waiting for the sunset to come to view.

Least favorite memory

Moving from his hometown and spending the first few months in the United States being homesick.

What corporation sent you to Ashbury?

The American Finance Institute (AFI) is one of the United States' leading financial corporation with branches extending around Canada, Mexico and some other parts of Central America. Spencer's father is the executive director of the Canadian branch but soon left the country and moved to the United States for urgent matters. The CEO of the corporation, Frank Dolbert was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer a few months ago and was informed to have little chance of survival. So while he is being subjected through dialysis, the company's co-CEO Deihlyn Anton Flores took over but to make matters worse, he wasn't competent at controlling the stability of the company and needed to be replaced by someone as soon as possible.

Dolbert and Spencer's father were very close friends and Dolbert himself believed the potential Spencer possessed as a young individual. Though he has a few doubts of his own, Dolbert envisioned the boy to be a part of the company. Spencer could one day exceed some of Dolbert's expectations as he sees a a young version of himself through the likes of Spencer.

Birthday

April 19 1997

Astrological Sign

Aries

Twitter Name

Twitter: @SpenceD
Deviantart: Spacepenguin07

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_{"Love? I don't breathe that kind of air."}

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_{RP: Ashbury Academy}

Matthias Korfred

^{"There is life, there is death and then there is ... my cookbook."}

Matthias Korfred

_{29 | 23rd of October | 5'9" | First Class.
theme.}

appearance.

A once red-headed boy who turned the color of his hair into blonde due to past experiences he dared not to reminisce. One can hardly tell that he was once a young man of pathetic proportions, standing thin and bony almost as if he was malnourished. SOLDIER drastically transformed him into someone he wanted to be: a strong, vigorous individual driven by his own will and perception of what is right and just.

Drawing the man's fairly tall exterior lies a body frame built for the battlefield. Broad shoulders and a set of lean, compact muscles join together to structure a physique made to withstand what the ungentle world can bring about. Matty's eyes are grey in color but can, at times, appear at a different shade from a certain distance. He has thick eyebrows and a thin nose ending on a curved tip. His face is square-like, shaped by his flat chin and defined cheekbones. His blonde hair is often trimmed when it deviates from the standard length he desires. A few strands of red are still present particularly on the sidelines but such a scanty bunch wouldn't border beyond his convenience.

personality.

A steadfast man who never wavers his own fortitude during the times of trials and contentions. A man who endures the bleakness of war, eager to reach a promised salvation through determined deeds of prosperity. It is perhaps astonishing to know that back then, Matty was an apathetic fool who sees nothing of the world from his hopeless delusions. He was a weak, dying spirit who looked nearly impossible to instill a glimmer of change. Until his fate shifted, giving him eyes to see and a vision to establish objectives with.

Matty is a man of passion, upheld by a conviction of peace and progression. He views war as nothing more than a meager tribulation against mankind's stand, often treating as a challenge but never underestimates its nature. Compared to what he was before, Matty cultivated an optimistic perception of reality, foreseeing a tranquil haven that became a firm outcome of man's unity towards a single agreement, which is peace. Men with such beliefs are often labeled as fools by many but even when Matty knows how others see him, his unshakable grip of his own beliefs stays the same.

To others, Matty is this unyielding flame that never dies out regardless if it rains. He treats people with equal compassion and respect as he strongly sees the good out of everyone. At frequent times, mischief plays a large fraction of his persona to let others see his often comical yet charming image. Like other people conscripted through military programs, Matty possesses an endearing concern for his friends and does his best to reach out whatever conflicts or disputes they may raise. Matty also cherishes any particular relationships he would develop among his peers, making sure that his sense of companionship delivers them out from loneliness.

However, behind the visage ignited by zeal and kindness lingers an unhinged side of the man who fears an outcome of loss. Death is what Matty fears the most. He detests people dying without a cause and with it, developed an insight of dread that one day, he might suffer the same fate. For all he knew, it was the fragment of his own past which never managed to change up until his present timeline.

biography/background.

Gone were those days when prestige and luxury were a part of his nourishing livelihood. Before spiraling down to a near oblivion, Matty lived his life as a stoic. A prodigal lawyer who relentlessly fought for peace and order as what was ordained by the philosophies of his predecessors. Little did he know that his vision for the Capital's welfare was only a bridge to benefit his own jeopardy. One of which was the untimely death of his fiancee, Jacqueline Harrion.

The first phase of the crime's investigation had convicted Matty as the prime suspect of his fiancee's demise as he was the one who stood at close contact when authorities arrived. However, links were carefully reviewed to a previous case Matty has closed following the corruption of the Capital's legislative council. Later on, it was found out that the murder had affiliations with the Capital's vice mayor and was soon accused of previous cases that shared similar aspects to Jacqueline's murder judging from their particular nature, which were all hired assassinations. Once the cases were arranged, the vice mayor was proven guilty and given a life sentence from his horrific acts of corruption. This led Matty to initiate an act of revenge as he lost his volition to stand strong despite the grueling fate of his fiancee.

Nobody expected Matty to come during the vice mayor's court trial but he did manage to pay his attendance nevertheless. While he tried to deliver his innocence in-front of the court, he grabbed a pistol he carried behind and shot the vice mayor while a live broadcast was being aired across the Captial. Matty was immediately placed behind bars after the incident where he spent nearly three years in legal restraints. From how he was consumed by vengeance steered his life down a steep course with no certainty of how his years will pass by in the future.

Matty was given parole and a promised release but in exchange of being deployed to render service for the Dalmastice government. In time, he agreed with their terms mainly because he was left with nothing, not even a choice he can freely speak out. He was eventually delivered to SOLDIER upon release as part of the agreement.

weapon{s}.

Matty doesn't hold a fascination towards weaponry as he prefers facing his opponents with his bare hands and level himself with his bravado. However, at times, he does enjoy his flamethrower and the weapon's mechanism fascinates him to a certain extent, that he drove himself onto developing a skillful understanding and customization of the equipment.

skillset.

• Matty is a skilled cook and owns a plethora of homemade recipes.
• Dexterity & Strength
• Intelligence

ability.

Capable of interacting with streams of magma buried deeply from the Earth's core, Matty can scorch the ground he's standing on at incinerating extremes and allow small currents of magma to pool freely at a given radius.

aeon.

Laharah+

Red & Green | Rage & Savagery

Described as the fallen goddess who ascended from the greater depths of the pandemonium, seeking what's worth to feed her eternal rage. Laharah takes form of an incorporeal huntress with having several burning spears pierced around her body. Her hair and eyes are entirely made up of flames and the rest, of molten lava. On her head sits a crown of bones, untouchable by the flames engulfing her hair. Ethereal tethers are chained around her feet but where they extend cannot be seen. On her back rests a pair of orange wings that when spread, set themselves ablaze. How they look strongly resemble as that of an angel's.

limit/overdrive.

Infernal Empire

Sends a ravaging impulse that shakes the earth and rips the ground apart, spawning craters along its wake. Streams of molten lava will be spewed out from the craters and create a river of inferno.

trivia.

relationships.

Dach: An acquaintance from the Capitol's grimy prison cells. At a certain point when inmates of both genders were allowed to gather at one facility, Matty and Dach often conversed about subject matters involving the tainted corruption of the Capitol and its legislative council. There were minimal mentions of his deceased fiancee as well but stories about those were never voluntarily told unless forced upon. Such conditions were negotiated when Dach gave him an exchange deal for a pack of cigarettes if he gave more details about his fiancee. Nevertheless, Matty agreed with her terms and thus formed a certain kind of friendship throughout the times they've spent behind bars.

other.

• Much to his liking, Matty spent a large amount of time serving for SOLDIER's mess halls as a cook while not in training session.
• SOLDIER occasionally regarded Matty's insights of the true claims behind the Vice mayor's affiliations of hired murder. Most were directed to his lawsuit which was what Matty had brought to an impeachment before being imprisoned. However, the information only reached among SOLDIER's curious minds and never bordered beyond their actions.
• Whenever he finds time, Matty shares his knowledge and understanding of advanced hand-to-hand combat with other SOLDIER recruits. Up to today, he still does it but only when he's free from other important tasks.

_{RP: ℛ є q υ ι є м.}

Lloyd Washterson

Lloyd Washterson

,...,

Full name

Lloyd Washterson

Age.

35

Gender

Male

Physical appearance

A definitive example of a man uncluttered by worldly tropes insinuated with a glare of intimidation. Lloyd is an extravagantly formal man who often gives his best attempts to create a well-respected image. Often, he carries a well-crafted demeanor capable of persuading the most indifferent of minds while keeping behind a cunning and ruthless visage.

On a larger side of his equitably tall exterior draws a body frame constructed by extensive martial arts training. His athletic build discloses a vessel meant for advanced hand-to-hand combat albeit recently more reluctant to be on the fields of it. Lloyd's dark hair is kept trimmed on a regular basis, appearing mostly to be straightened on an elegant scale. Eyes are brown in color, along with thick eyebrows sitting on top of them. His face is oval-shaped structured by defined cheekbones, a flat chin and an evenly shaven set of facial hair.

Through the years of rebuilding S.C.A.R., Lloyd frequently remained secretive of his complete identity, save for at least the hours spent in his office. This only meant that his access in the open sunshine was notably limited, thus had him gain a slightly pale complexion. As for his extravagance of formal wear, he is often found wearing an array of suits, tuxedos and other corporate clothing even outside of work.

Personality

A man riddling with mystified truths and an uncanny connection towards the realm of men as well as being a fine specimen who faces a world of redundant disagreements. Known to be pragmatic and subtly conniving, Lloyd, perhaps, is best described by most as an enigma.

Outwardly he displays a man of intelligence, driven by a plethora of his own coherent philosophies. Often he speaks an obscure sum of truths which nobody clearly understands, yet even when he knows it well, it is carried alongside his words nonetheless. Above all, Lloyd values a greater sense of logic which usually directs to peaceful conclusions ―a core trait inherited solely from his father. He doesn't fancy around expectations as it puts him down on a dubious scope. Instead, he follows a plausible path towards what is certain and likely to be a pillar of achievement.

His presence among people is a bit unusual on certain proportions. He sets a particular standard for selected ones to be considered as friends, yet even when he eventually forms an alliance, his trust spirals backwards to a contradictory loop. Lloyd is one person who is perhaps, difficult to convince despite being pretentiously drawn to a sly fashion of speech. His trust towards people is often attached by a number of doubts, usually providing negative judgement on deeds specifically made for the greater good.

In spite of his demeanor, he is, at least, capable of sympathy. Lloyd also values life and a peaceful bliss following after it. It is his grudge against the government as well as the people who killed his father that gave him the means of enmity. At times, hatred becomes his greatest enemy, recurrently deviating his direction from his true purpose of rebuilding S.C.A.R.

Biography/Background history

Far from a privileged lifestyle, Lloyd grew up with his alcoholic guardian ― so to speak ― within the slums of Detroit. While witnessing the murders of his parents was an already traumatic experience, living off of deprivation from basic needs deemed worse, let alone the harsh treatment he had received from his oddly proclaimed guardian. It was at those younger days ― not exceeding at the age of 7 ― when he had already formulated a vast desire to end his life. From seeing a single day drifting to a forthcoming oblivion, Lloyd made several attempts of suicide, only to be caught in his acts by his guardian. Not wanting to be around the alcoholic's presence, Lloyd left what he shamelessly called home towards a place he could fulfill his suicidal endeavors. That was when his encounter with Nicholas Washterson was established, permanently changing his convoluted life.

It was during Nick Washterson's senatorial visit to Detroit. On his last weeks, he promised himself to carry a personal task, in which to scour slums and ghetto neighbourhoods for any homeless Superhumans who wandered about. Upon strolling the streets accompanied by none other than his most loyal valet Antoine Torres, he met Lloyd. Unlikely to be Superhuman, Nick felt a deep, sympathetic connection towards the boy, as he saw the young, innocent child completely lost in a lowly environment. However, from how dangerous the streets of Detroit were followed an unforeseen assault from Superhumans. Luckily being of the same kind had its advantages as Nick's power conjured a mighty gust of wind that retaliated the would-be assailants. Impressed by the display of Nick's power, Lloyd was fascinated in awe and praised the man as some kind of hero. Later on, Nick took Lloyd back to where he resided and gave proper care for the poor boy.

Throughout the years, Lloyd slowly built a fatherly relationship around Nick until such time that he was taken as Nick's own son after filing the necessary requirement for adoption. Nick's work had fascinated Lloyd on a number of occasions and when he started to develop a stable way of understanding things. After a while, Lloyd was fostered with the education he necessarily needed, further building his interest towards his father's work with the senate until he took it on a full extent. Once after reaching the age of 10, Lloyd showed a convincing potential just by how he much knowledge he garnered from reading a variety of law books.

However, Lloyd's time with his father was short-lived. Imprisonment forced Nick to send the boy to a place far from danger as he believed he had more enemies than what he had imagined and letting the boy be at the same place where he would commence his own battle will only result to his possible demise. Eventually, Lloyd was sent to Japan along with the people Nick entrusted for his son's own safety. Lloyd didn't know his departure was the last day he'd remember seeing his father alive.

---

Years spent in Japan were his very foundations of building his own sense of ambition. Studying law was the first part of it as Lloyd became more and more eager to become a lawyer and one day help free his father out from prison. Nevertheless he was unaware of what was happening back in his hometown until news about Nick's revolution were slowly being known globally.

His father's death implanted a deep hatred inside of Lloyd, initially holding a grievance against the people responsible for his death. Perhaps unknowing to him, it was what drove him to perform well at his university in Japan and eventually graduated out of law school. For years thereafter, he took an interest to learn martial arts, seeking his valet's guidance to build a better understanding and practice towards the concept of it. He was trained both physically and spiritually, later brandishing a drastic form of discipline. Years of training had him develop a certain mastery but was believed to lack some certain aspects towards a few disciplines of martial arts; one of which was his persistent insinuation with his own hatred, proving how much of a weakness it was.

Once Lloyd filed everything he wanted to settle, he left Japan and flew back to his hometown. After his father's death, he would've expected to be starting his ambitions alone but little did he know how much was left of the war his father had caused. Along the rubble emerged people who supported his father's ideals,some being equally influential as him who hid after a large number of rebels were captured by the government. Soon once they partnered an alliance with Nick Washterson's son, a new cause was formed, later becoming the foundation of rebuilding S.C.A.R. along with the legacy his father had left him.

Powers

At a later age of around 20, Lloyd uncovered the true origins of his biological parents in which his mother was a Superhuman. However being that, Lloyd was unable to genetically inherit anything from his mother save for at least a few physical features. Lloyd possesses no built-in superpower as he solely relies on his vast knowledge, craftsmanship on various technologies and his agile prowess. Like his father, Nick Washterson, he was regarded as a highly innovative individual capable of creating phenomenal breakthroughs as well as being a competent lawyer.

During his time in Japan, Lloyd was broadly trained in diversified means of Japanese martial arts namely, Judo, Jujutsu and swordsmanship. With his eagerness to learn more, he mastered certain aspects of their different practices and techniques after he finished law school. These includes particular disciplines and also a spiritual connection which he manifested throughout the years of training. In combat, Lloyd institutes a unique fighting style of disrupting his opponent's vigor before finishing them off. He doesn't kill unless needed to.

Weaknesses

Lloyd's weakness in combat is perhaps the same weakness as he have as a person. Anger and hatred drives him away from the focus he needed to muster during combat. Such scenarios will result him to fight recklessly and commit mistakes that will lead him to his defeat. Additionally, his endurance is not his best asset though not particularly being weak. Prolonged combat doubles his exhaustion.

Miscellaneous information

Lloyd is a good cook though not a master of it. Years spent in Japan influenced his style of dining as he is able to prepare a handful of Japanese cuisines with skill.

Eliard Johnson

Warlock

_THEME

Full name

Eliard Johnson

Age.

24

Gender

Male

Physical appearance

Seen as an intractable vessel built for destruction, this youth's influences ranged far to adhere the common principles society has enacted. Much to how he physically looked, many people regarded Eliard or Eli to be an individual altered by voracious motives to attain a higher source of power.

Looking through Eli's peculiar style would likely force questions upon his ways of life and how he abides it. With his hair being vibrant and rich in red, it'd be barely easy for someone to let it go unnoticed. In terms of physique, Eli is of the weaker kind. Rarely does he ever put it in mind, save for the times sickness took a toll on him. He's equally slim and overall, holds average proportions on his build. Before he was dispatched at the ORB, he frequently wears mild eyeliner to decorate under his brown-coloured eyes. His overly pale complexion hints how much he stays indoors, reluctant to be a part of the outside world let alone when he was at his younger years.

An arrangement of Eli's clothing deemed fairly simple to him yet entirely strange to others' point of view. Usually he would wear dark clothing comprised of black leather jackets, polo shirts and anything alike. Only on particular occasions would he bother wearing clothes with a colour other than black.

Personality

Eli is not the equally sane type of person one would normally meet. Though not completely deranged himself, he has this peculiar behaviour that is persistently quenching for improvement and perfection. Power is what he truly desire and his constant need for it feeds his demeanor towards an unstable form of voracity. He would stop at nothing to be better and applying his powers for the cause of destruction is a prime example of it.

Often does it take over him, leading to a relentless force which is far more difficult to be handled. Sometimes his quest for power becomes a core weakness as it provides a self-contradiction that tells how much he loses when he asks for more. Truth to be told, Eli barely notices it until such time he realizes how much of his humanity is disposed into fragments. Truly, power alone can corrupt the hands of those who aren't worthy enough to hold it and how Eli handles his becomes a part of that fact.

Setting those aside, Eli ― while not being a power-hungry freak ― is actually an approachable person despite his exaggerated looks. He exhibits a playfully annoying vibe which is enough to get him an affable image. Additionally, he treats people with unbiased respect as he sometimes sees violence as an illogical choice to establish a healthy connection with someone. At certain times he does portray a rebellious figure, using vulgar yet harmless speeches to express himself freely.

Biography/Background history

Perhaps not the story of the high-spirited kind to be shared at campfires but not entirely the darkest one either. It was a life told to be squandered from prudent opportunities, all caused by the corruption granted from one's vices. Never had there been a time for progress to rule over as every passing time became a spiraling descent to obscurity and hopelessness. Yet even when things fall down time after time, not even a single stand of effort was exerted to at least rise from an endless decline.

One would think being a single child meant that a large sum of their parents' effort will solely belong to their cause of joy. Such things were far from giving a definitive meaning as Eliard grew up being the unhappiest of children. A best illustration contributing to his woeful way of life was his father's addiction towards drugs and alcohol. Neither was he the supportive nor a good example of a father as he ― as well ― disposed lavishly the money meant for the family over gambling. Unfortunately, his life filled with vices was short-lived as he abruptly died from an overdose. Eli was far from displaying grief as his father's death meant nothing but a wisp of air breezing by. There was no connection he had felt between them and years of growing up under the dark corners of an underprivileged lifestyle made Eli treat his father more of a stranger than a figure of great influence.

His mother, however, was of the opposite kind though not equal in terms of likeliness. Neither depending on her deceased husband nor waiting for a miracle to come by, she worked hard to let his son live a life fit for a growing child. However, being a part of the red light district in New Orleans deemed a far more dangerous life not only for her but for the well-being of her son. Eli was unaware of his mother's employment as it was constantly kept away from him. It wasn't that Eli was eager to know about it or anything but how late his mother arrived home every so often made him question her recurring activities.

For once, Eli never laid his feet to the outside world as he mostly locked himself up inside of his home, reading comic books and the like. Never did he know how special he was until he reached adolescence where he discovered an essence of power he never knew. Uncovering what he was capable of drove him in utter fear. At the age of 12, spheres made up of energies surrounded him like orbits. The very sight of it forced him into a screech of terror, unknowing how those appeared out of nowhere. The spheres eventually vanished and never returned until a year thereafter where he discovered more of what they were truly capable of. As he used it for the first time, there was a sulking feeling emanating from conscience. An ounce of power he had never experienced before, bearing a weight he couldn't carry physically yet it gave him a sensation of euphoria, like he was witnessing how a god's power was portrayed.

One ill-timed event had Eli unleash the full potential of his powers. It was when his mother's work went spiraling into conflicts which weren't supposed to exist. Men had been blackmailing her constantly, asking for a professional show in exchange of large sums of cash. These men, however, were far from being the gentlest of people. They were sinister drug dealers who were adorned by cash with the help of their cartels. It was one of the least method Eli's mother wanted to be involved in but the men were persistent. Later on, a group of masked assailants broke in at Eli's home, taking his mother with them. Despite putting up a fight, she was obviously unmatched from the number of men, not to mention their bulky appearances. Eli's pleas for her release only resulted to a constant refusal. This made him infuriated rather than afraid, giving the men means of threat. Eli was only laughed at in return but when he applied his words, his powers were unleashed at full force, bringing most of the assailants to their demise and left a few severely injured.

Luckily during the unwanted encounter, Eli's mother wasn't able to witness any of his exhibitions as she was knocked unconscious by the assailants. However, Eli's hold for his power did not end there. He became more and more fascinated on how they worked, thus became a leading foundation that established a new life of crime.

Turning 21 was Eli's first ventures of his troubling years. Under a masked identity, he consistently robbed banks and left a trail of destruction once he attained a convincing amount. He continued his unpleasant deeds of theft until he was eventually caught in the act at the age of 23 where he was constrained by a more powerful police force. After the Superhuman revolution, the police force became more ardent in terms of firepower and control against Superhuman juveniles. Despite that, there were still some who were able to escape from their clutches only because their system was becoming more and more corrupt.

As charges on Eli were filed, he was sent to the ORB and spent the next phases of his troubled life behind the fortified walls of the facility.

Powers

Eli is able to conjure spheres of uniform sizes made up of pure energy. These spheres, upon manifestation, emanates Eli in a swirling fashion usually hovering around from his chest's level down to his waist. Spheres can only be at a maximum number of four and when one of them is used, another replaces the lost one out of thin air, continuing a swirling rotation. However, the time interval for a replacement takes more than a few minutes not exceeding to three.

These spheres can be interacted on varied assortments. One characteristic of these spheres is that they are able to detonate upon contact through the possible means of surging high concentrations of energy towards them. The power of the explosions will depend on how much energy was harvested on a specific sphere. Another of its attribute is the flexibility of each sphere's mass. They can be extended to a sheer amount of volume, meaning that their weight can drastically change while having their sizes remain the same. Lastly, these spheres can serve as projectiles hurled on various options. All of which are possible by controlling the spheres' motion by using the mind.

Weaknesses

Focus plays a vital role on controlling these spheres. Once distracted, Eli loses momentum and the spheres can vanish at an instant without proper mind control. Using a single sphere does not mean that it will automatically start counting to a few minutes to hold a replacement. The sphere should vanish from any of the interactions available before starting the replacement countdown.

Above all, an adequate pool of stamina is required in order for Eli to utilize his powers. If he suffers from physical conditions such as fatigue and anything similar, his powers cannot manifest or if it somehow does, it will present a weaker function than what it's supposed to be.

Miscellaneous information

Eli dislikes dimly-lit places and is claustrophobic.

_{RP: The Superhuman Crusade & Alliance Revolution (S.C.A.R.)}

Melvin Cain

Melvin Cain

______________________________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________________________

Name:

Melvin Cain

Age:

21

Gender:

Male

Former Occupation:

Singer and songwriter

Physical Appearance:

Melvin is a young man whose appearance is but a snippet of the apocalypse's unrelenting wrath - or at least a part of him is. On his right arm lies a big nasty scar that traces from his shoulder blade down to the wrist. A bitter reminder of the grim occurrences he faced during his time for survival and a failed attempt to save a loved one. Other than that, Melvin appears to be quite average for a person of his age.

Standing roughly at 5'8" in height and weighing at about 138 pounds, he has a fairly thin build which is entirely made up of lean and stringy muscles and a pack of small joints. Melvin was once fair-skinned but then sank into a medium tan as a result of frequent exposures from the sun and occasional hygiene negligence. His face is defined by a triangular shape with an angled chin and low cheekbones. His unruly light brown hair is moderately short in length that falls down to his upper back neck. Eyes are colored hazel with fair eyebrows residing on top. He has a thin nose line and a few growing facial hairs located at his lower chin and some skirting at the sides of his jaw.

Past Affiliates:

Previously belonged to a group of people who were residents from Melvin's neighborhood alongside with his mother, younger sister and a few of his co-workers in the music industry who happened to stand along for survival. They were a migrating lot who sought a safer community free from the virus or anyone who're carriers of it. Overtime they decreased in numbers but not from having one member catching the virus. It was mainly because of their morals and how it crumbled down every time the group broke into series of arguments. As of now, Melvin is one of the few survivors of the group as half of them either killed each other due to unsettled conflicts or were killed by hostiles. The rest of the group were caught by the virus and eventually died. That included Melvin's mother and younger sister.

Current Affiliates:

Melvin currently has no permanent group. His daily routine revolves around helping people who are in need and meeting up with other survivors. Usually, a majority of his time would be spent on exploring at abandoned areas by himself. The purpose of which would either be for his own way of killing time or to find a something worth living for.

Skills:

Melvin is an exceptionally good singer and an entertainer who is capable of giving people a good show with a fascinating vocal range. He can also play a handful of instruments such as the guitar and occasionally, the harmonica. With these, he can help and give hope to people who are running through a bleak environment despite losing a lot of their loved ones. However, having suffered through countless of losses, Melvin sometimes loses motivation on using these skills for the benefit of others. Other than that, he developed a certain skill for tracking since he often explores abandoned places by himself. His tracking skill however, is still at a novice level.

Strengths:

One characteristic which is considered to be Melvin's main strength is his perseverance. He can withstand almost every trial faced in life whether it'd risk him or not and show his rigorous willpower in the process. Most likely, nothing will hold him down from achieving the impossible not even by force alone. He doesn't fear the concept of failure even if he undergoes it a couple of times. The only thing that he fears is not trying anything at all which then wraps him in complete regret.

Weaknesses:

Perhaps Melvin's greatest weakness comes within the forms of negativity as it perfectly opposes his main source of strength. It is the one trait that drags him down from all of his ambitions and instead, allows hopelessness to take over and rule his moral sense. At his pessimistic side, Melvin is often existentially conflicted. He always wonder aimlessly about life and what there is to it. This weakness of his generally places him into a depressed state but there are times where it could be worse.

Melvin is also unreasonably obstinate at times. Being stubborn often puts him through dangerous situations to the point where his life may be at risk but despite knowing that, he still has the spunk to be persistent and remain stubborn nonetheless. He occasionally has problems establishing trust with people as he is very much aware of how society revolves. More likely, he is skeptical even towards people who show nothing but straightforward camaraderie.

History:

Born and raised from a small neighborhood located at Milwaukee, Wisconsin. At an early age, Melvin struggled to keep up with his life especially before his abusive father was still a household member of the family. He and his sister often kept their distances from their parents, mostly clamped together in a room while spending each unbearable moment listening to their father raise his voice and to the unthinkable noises of their mother being beaten. Melvin knew it had to stop sooner or later but even when trying one attempt after another gave no progress. The arguments were still flowing heavily with each passing day until a day came when Melvin's father went too far and assaulted their mother with a knife. The injuries were serious but luckily, it wasn't anywhere near life-threatening. Authorities arrested Melvin's father after his mother was admitted to the hospital. Since then, their father never returned nor did they see him again.

A remarkable breathe of fresh air followed several months after the incident damaged their family. Financial conflicts rose but wasn't as much of a bigger problem than their abusive father. Melvin's mother found a job at the city a few weeks later, knowing that there should be a replacement to their main source of income. It wasn't difficult even when they made several adjustments in the process. Melvin continued school and aided his sister with her studies as well. However, all of their hard work appeared to be insufficient as money grew shorter every time Melvin advanced to a higher level in school. He knew he had to do something, especially after he moved forward to high school. Ideas came but most of them weren't as helpful as he thought until an opportunity awaited him at a television show's talent audition.

Ever since he was little, Melvin was fond of singing and developed a certain hobby of it in the later years. He never knew he was good at it but his mother and sister always believed that he was blessed with a voice that can open people's ears. He was never the most confident person to say the least but participating in the said audition could help them prevail from his family's hardships.

All went well after Melvin auditioned. He was officially signed to participate in the talent show's program which then left him anxious but thrilled nonetheless. A successful result followed after he was placed at third place in the finals. It may not have been a clear shot to the number one spot but his way of singing was enough for a wide recognition. Soon, a few entertainment companies barged in and crowded Melvin with contracts, all of which were careers in singing that he might consider on pursuing. He didn't hesitate and accepted what's for the better. He knew his family was still there waiting to root for his success. It was all happening so fast that Melvin couldn't settle his mind but he was certain that success was already at his grasps. The hardships he once struggled to pass through were now under his reach and could now give the support that he's willing to provide for his family. Months after signing his career contract, Melvin was officially a musician, making money off of record deals. He became a known figure in alternative rock genre and made several appearances at famous venues throughout the United States.

Then the catastrophic plague came. Melvin immediately returned home to escort his family to safety but by then, chaos was already flocking his hometown with an uncontrollable outburst as every resident made desperate attempts for their preparation of survival. Homes were being infiltrated then stolen by a number of individuals. However, Melvin and his family were safe after being rescued by his agents and few co-workers. Terrified residents begged to join them but only a few were brought to their excursion. They rushed to leave the state and to a safer environment where people weren't running in an outrage. However, the group collapsed before they could even find a place. Melvin tried to break his family away from them but by the time he did, he noticed that they've already caught the virus. It wasn't long until his mother and younger sister lost their lives which then forced Melvin to wander in the midst of devastation. He never would've guessed what may happen next but after losing everything he had, Melvin came to the point where he wondered if there was still a reason to continue. He felt certain that there wasn't but his constant fear of death refused to let him join his family.

_{RP: Us, Redux}

Amelia Fairley

Name: Amelia Fairley
Nickname: Amy
Gender: Female
Age: 34
Appearance:

Amy

Medical Ailments: None

Nationality: Scottish-American

Occupation: Highschool teacher

Four Week History: Right after the terrorizing pandemic hit the state, residents from Amy's suburban home were planning to evacuate onto safer shelters until further notice by the government or at least when hell calms itself down. That's what they believed for the time being as they were mostly misinformed by the media about the outbreak's coverage. People were oblivious about the truth, some even had established beliefs of their own, telling themselves that the government had planned a safe evacuation route for all citizens to take. They foolishly made that assumption until the chaos unraveled itself as they moved out from their homes. Some didn't make it unfortunately, even when it was just the first few days of their supposed 'exodus'.

Amy's ex-husband was there for the purpose of helping her and their two kids. Their plan was to evacuate at the area where her ex-husband believed to be a safer ground since it was barricaded by a few construction workers that resided there. They left together with the residents but soon after - while travelling through the highways - they were cornered by a horde. Everything erupted into a chaotic turmoil as people panicked. While some remained calm, the entire exodus crumbled and it only became worse. One after another, they were harvested by the dead. Some managed to hack their way through by taking another route with their vehicles, one of those were Amy's family. They tried to deviate from the highway and onto the narrow roads leading to the forest. However, before they could even make progress, an explosion - which was believed to be a gas leak - blazed the entire scene within seconds.

Flames multiplied as they seared their way to one vehicle after another. Within the first several minutes after the explosion, Amy found herself lying dizzily on a car travelling as she noticed the thick black smoke billowing towards the sky. She then realized that it wasn't her ex-husband's car after she recognized her neighbors at the front seat. They explained to her what happened, telling that her family survived the explosion. But that didn't help her at all and instead, she grew desperate on finding them. Chances were slim at that time and even when Amy knew it was impossible at that moment, she persisted. Her neighbors refused to let her go, especially when the dead were running rampant. They continued to drive for days until they eventually ended up at the Dulles International Airport after gas ran out. There they've met a couple of people who have one goal in mind and that is to survive.

Amy remembered what her ex-husband had said and the place where they were supposed to evacuate. It was her main destination if only she was specifically informed about it but still planned to go there nonetheless, if chances were to increase. Right now, her only hope is to reunite with her family as soon as possible.

Items of Interest: A backpack containing:

• 4 canned food (2 meat loaf and 2 canned spaghetti)
• 2 1L bottles of water (one of them is half empty)
• clothing
• 3 family pictures
• 1 bar of soap
• 1 bottle of shampoo
• perfume
• powder
• antibiotics

Weapons:

• a pair of brass knuckles and a kitchen knife.

_{RP: No Hope}

Richard Fowl

Basic Information

Name:

Richard Fowl

Age:

19

Gender:

Male

Appearance & Attire:

How the guileful youth adheres to the aesthetic principles of society deemed far more than an intractable notion one couldn't simply influence. It is a rather simplistic judgement he himself had embraced. knowing that the leverage of the outside world is prone to shrivel his sense of individuality, thus developing a conviction to circumstances he held and believed to be factors that defined his audacious facade. More often than not, he glowers at fashion trends and mockingly regards them as an illusion which deludes feeble individual minds, hungry to accord with insignificant matters they foolishly incorporate themselves with.

Scrabbling around Richard's fairly tall exterior, ascribes a young Canadian who spent an enormous fraction of his life away from the mishaps and upheavals dawdling at the outside world. His pale complexion is often an indirect subject towards his true being ― whether or not he's an exaggerated epitome of isolated individuals who are frequent users of occult magic that makes them eternally younger. With his fiery orange hair, there can be times when it'd be barely easy for a particular person to let it go unnoticed. This had Richard annoyed through a number of occasions as some of his recent peers often joked about it, lately forcing him to keep it regularly trimmed as to not strike any attention from people who are too drawn to it. Besides that, other co-existing features are his grey eyes, thin nose and a well-rounded face structured by defining cheekbones and an oval chin.

In terms of body build, Richard is of the average kind with narrow shoulders and thin muscles adorning the entirety of his physique, all due to frequent inactivity towards physical development. He considered these things to be largely unnecessary as he preferred developing his mind more, believing that it has far more superior influence than the petty physical appearances he discerns as an oozing hindrance.

As a person who deviates away from ridiculous fashion trends, Richard keeps his style of clothing in a reasonably unsophisticated approach. Often does he make a habit of collecting plain shirts with assorted colours. Normally, he'd wear either a t-shirt or a sweatshirt along with a pair of cargo shorts. Occasionally, he wears standard polo shirts and jeans for casual wear and if needed to, he integrates himself to formal wear whenever attending particular events.

Skills/Talents:

Richard possesses an ample set of skills ranging from cognitive reasoning to speech construction, all of which were developed from his eager interest of learning. He's been an avid participator of various academic contest throughout the recent years of his life until his breakdown and the publicity of his true self. Other than that, Richard also exhibits a certain skill in singing and of course, this doesn't mesh with the benefits he can have from his powers as his voice is an inherited attribute from his mother.

Brief Backstory:

Being conferred to a lifestyle embellished with prestige and luxury wasn't always a definitive evidence of unmitigated satisfaction nor a prerequisite to guaranteed happiness. Perhaps it was for others, but for Richard, his views were just too indulged with the sullenness of pessimism. His perspective was always embroidering contradictory intuitions, often questioning and pointing whatever's unnecessary to bring into context. His ways are undoubtedly questionable and illogical at some aspects despite being a person of unprejudiced intellect. Rarely does he encounter existential turning points as he ceaselessly questioned his purpose in life of either being destined to servitude, as what he thought most people were put into or be ridiculed by love. Neither was it the former nor the latter as Richard's reluctance to uncover his own truths gave a tad of enjoyment towards the uncertain world. He realized that being foolish has its advantages and living a life not knowing of the truth was something which made things more alive.

For the most part, his endearing self-proclamation of such became a pillar of his own prosperity. With him dealing less of his existence had him progress over his academic pursuits during his life spent in normality. Truth to be told, wealth wasn't always what he wanted as his insatiable quench for knowledge flourished a virtuous ambition towards an upright claim of power. Richard wanted to be someone highly influential, something more than just a successor of his parents' petty industry. With that envisioned, his relentless determination conquered a path of endless achievements as Richard showed more of his intellectual capability towards the masses. He continued moving forward until meeting the last moments of his short-lived glory.

At the age of 17, he suffered from a nervous breakdown due to the sheer amounts of stress he worked himself into just to attain his goals. Symptoms exhibited severe cases of depression and occasional panic attacks which eventually became the main cause of his self-harming. One untimely day had Richard inflict several injuries upon himself by using a kitchen knife, later sending him to the hospital due to how critical the injuries were. It was at that place where Richard's uniqueness was discovered which then became the principal reason of segregating from his family and ambitions. Upon release, Richard's parents arranged plans to send him to a mental institution to further recover himself from depression but with his certain uniqueness, both of them had set up research for a better solution. Later on, they've contacted NEST and informed them about their son and his abilities which seemed vague to them at first. After a few months, Richard was sent to an Alaskan academy that housed different people of his special kind.

Power Information

Power Class:

Elemental

Power:

Richard is able to manipulate and alter the trajectory of sound waves by projecting a disruption of his own, disseminating an oscillation different from what was initially produced. Basically, it's a sound modification and this power alone can be somehow categorized as a type of auditory illusion. From the primary sounds produced by a particular medium, their properties will undergo drastic change once the power is conjured, emanating alterations thereafter. These changes can simply be observable through one's perception whereas from the originator of the produced sounds, it has no effect. To simply put, the transmitter is completely immune to the changes and alteration of sound waves as they will be hearing the exact sounds they've produced. On the other hand, the receiver's perception is toyed and will be noticing a different resonance but aren't wary of the changes. Amplification and muting exemplify some of the powers applications but there are a variety which are yet to be mentioned.

In terms of efficiency, the power is not able to modify a multitude of sound waves originating from a several number of mediums. Although it doesn't entirely mean that Richard is unable to alter multiple projections, he simply just couldn't handle a specific volume of it. In addition to Richard's powers, he is able to mimic voices of different people and animals ― an enjoyable attribute he lately used for occasional comedic exploits.

Limits:

As mentioned before, Richard's powers are merely limited to modify and alter a specific quantity of sound waves. One notable ground for its restriction is perhaps the mind, as it is the core operator of Richard's power system. Every sound wave coming from a medium requires a link in order for them to be accustomed to modification. Richard's mind will need to work strenuously in order to attain control over a large sum of sound waves which will undoubtedly strain his overall aptitude. Mental instability also affects the modification/alteration of sound waves. Recognizable examples are ranged from incomplete alterations, meaning that the sound propagation aren't completely changed as there are few elements of the original content that can still be heard. With that, there should be a firm hold of Richard's mental prowess as it can directly affect the flow of his powers in a variety of glitches.

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

Focus is predominantly, a vital component which allows Richard's power to work accordingly as it affiliates most of his mind power. It will only mean that any forces that can potentially interrupt his stand of concentrating is bound to nullify his powers. While Richard can also modify or alter sound waves that are produced simultaneously from a number of mediums/instruments, it can somehow strain his mind to the point where it borders beyond the normal capacity. Once possible, results will be in the form of sound glitches/distortion, inaccuracy of voice mimicking and at times, tend to cause the powers to be utterly useless. Additionally, the power is mostly non-existent towards people with precognitive abilities ― only when they fall to the receiver side since the power has no known effects to the transmitter aside from noticing the reactions of the receivers.

Relationships

Family:

Martha Fowl - mother
Althurius Fowl - father

Dynamics:

Basically your character's relationship with other characters.
{Character Name} | {Impression (Good/Bad/Neutral} | {Relationship (Friend, Rival, Crush, etc)} | {Character Thoughts via in-character quote} |

Other

• Richard's sarcasm is often misunderstood as a portrayal of sympathy and friendliness.
• Dislikes cats, not a dessert person, and prefers tea over coffee.
• Theme

_{RP: Academy 218}

The Superhuman Crusade & Alliance Revolution (S.C.A.R.)

What in gods name is a plot. I thought we were here to Murder each other! BETRAYAL! ;^)

@Zelosse

We are but it has to be organized XD.

Academy 218: Why

I go for the random roommate selection as well, though it'd be intriguing to have Richard be with another ginger or a cat person (either someone who generally loves cats or has feline-ish powers). ;))

Music Appreciation Thread

@Lady Amalthea 7/10 I like its bleak and sorrowful melody but I'm not overall impressed with the vocals. Still a good song nonetheless.

Hider

The Superhuman Crusade & Alliance Revolution (S.C.A.R.)

Posted. Let the fun commence!

I'll be fairly active next week due to my Christmas leave from work so that means I'll be keeping an active eye at everyone's posts from time to time.

Also, I've created a piratepad so that we can openly discuss about different plots we can add, our characters and their relationships or pretty much anything. The link to it is at the first page under the updates and announcements. So feel free to chill while I'm there because I have a lot of free time this holiday season. ^^

The Superhuman Crusade & Alliance Revolution (S.C.A.R.)

Eliard Johnson

As one of the spheres vanished, Eli held another one, bringing forward as it hovered across a certain distance. It was the same as what he did recently, letting it teem with energy until glowering into a gleaming flare of light. Once done, he lifted his scowl against anyone his sights could set into while clamping his teeth together from his spiraling tantrum.

"Alright, since no one is making any sense, I'm afraid I'll just have to blow things up. At least with that, something will make sense." Eli spoke as he swept a few tangled strands of his red hair with his hands.

At that moment, Eli felt a fervent half of his consciousness, stirring an immense hold of power needing to be unleashed. It was a dense yet forceful feeling emanating a ravenous comportment, later influencing the course of his actions. It was as if something conveyed a single, incomprehensible message within his thoughts, apprising what he should do. While merely a blur, one certain idea he could decipher was that it urged him to proceed on a destructive force. It shadowed him for a moment, allowing little time for him look over himself. Eli then felt the comfort of it, the voracity building up as he nearly felt it lounging inside his veins. Years spent confined at the ORB had him forget this feeling and now, never did he discern how alive he was, how his gluttonous leverage over his powers gave him a rationale to stand firm against the surface of this world.

However, even after mounting his grasp for power, Eli felt something strange latching behind his sagacity. At first it was a frail sight of a blood-curdling projection, stemming a disarray of shadows ― as what it seemed ― towards a singular route which Eli later noticed to be at his proximity. One thing he wouldn't dare to stumble across was the darkness. Eli hated it and somehow left him shivering in fear due to past experiences he couldn't express on recalling. As the shadows extended their reach, Eli then felt his stomach lurching, his mind raced a nagging fright that forced him to abide an action that was far beyond his control. He couldn't move ― or at least he couldn't let himself be. The sight of the darkness folded his recent claim of power to a spiraling obscurity. Eli grievously wanted to evade the shadow's advance but his sullen fright refused to give him even a single option to do so.

"Get the fuck away from me!" And so he brazenly shrieked, forcing a terrified emphasis of his youthful voice.

The sphere he was supposed to control vanished at an instant once his attention altered towards the shadows. He continued to let his vociferation battle an unseen enemy, often cowering from a pretentious display of a contrived bravery.

"FUCK OFF!" He persisted until one giant, formless being began charging towards him, later forcing a prolonged scream out from his lungs. Then, even from a clogged view, he noticed something familiar as he let his scrutiny flow over a few proportions. It was the giant man, attempting an odd practice of something he wasn't quite wary of.

"The fuck are you trying to do?" For once fear subsided but only a fraction of it drifted away. The shadows were still lounging but Eli wasn't too mindful of it now.

"You're trying to do this, aren't you?" He scowled at the giant as he pointed the emanating shadows. "Too bad it's a shitty attempt to hold me back."

While he regained a partial hold of his power, he still couldn't settle himself completely with the existence of these shadows reaching him. One of the spheres that orbited Eli slowly slipped from its place, finding its way on top of his hand as it glided tenderly. After what he assumed to be the cause of the giant man, Eli ended up being the most unhappiest person inside the room. At this point, neither any words nor action would pin him down into silence.

"But I must say, it's a nice try but it will take more than that to bring me down, ya piece of shit." Eli raised his hand as the sphere hid behind its caress, bringing his body sideways. With his leg set on one side, it'd be easily noticed he was imitating a pitcher's stance and although hurling the sphere felt only an instant aim away, Eli felt obligated to give the giant man some short time before bringing in a trail of destruction.

"Say, are you good at dodgeball? because if not, you'll be so unlucky today."

___________________________________________________________________

Lloyd Washterson

Lloyd chuckled in response as he lifted Victoria from her plight, smiling as his eyes met hers in a less tricky way. Afterwards, Elijah inched closer, checking for any circumstances that might have deemed beyond his reach. Every once in a while, a harmless encounter made these guards watchful as the uncertainty of those confrontations might result to an inevitable mess. Nobody knew how much secrecy could each individual bear, whether or not they'd be spies among the opposition. Every trust was established with utmost caution for the fear of committing mistakes that would potentially damage any further stand the organization could inaugurate. Nevertheless, even when someone was to be endowed with Lloyd's credence, it would most likely fall towards the doubts of others.

"I'm fine, Elijah," Lloyd assured before his escort could even speak. He then sifted back to Victoria, returning his attention to her. "I'd say these new people are certainly going to be your future companions or perhaps, your team."

Lloyd then resumed his way towards the simulation room, hinting the woman to follow behind.

"As you can see, every S.C.A.R. member is assigned to a team. Whether or not you're destined to take recon exercises or just be a part of the staff here among the many facilities, you're ― nonetheless ― obligated to be a part of something. I implemented this as I am not fond of people shying away from a unified crowd. We are one by the way and being a faction with one purpose doesn't excuse some to scatter on their own."

Within perfect timing, they arrived at the simulation room. Elijah stepped forward as he pressed some buttons on the biometrics machine, later initiating a laser scan which opened the door afterwards. Lloyd was half-stunned as he stepped in, noticing a few misconceptions from his standpoint. Regardless, it was far from being a mess out of his control as he saw the men in their calm state. However, there was this redhead who seemed far from being a favourable individual.

"My apologies for my late arrival," He spoke in a calm yet loud tone, making sure his voice is enough for everyone to comprehend. "As you can see, I'm a very busy man or so to speak, but I never bias my time over you people as I treat everyone equally."

Lloyd paused as he tried to close his distance towards the new faces.

"Anyway, I all welcome you to S.C.A.R., abbreviated for the Superhuman Crusade and Alliance Revolution. I assume some of you are quite familiar with our name as this faction was once the great resistance that crumbled the government's tyranny and hatred over the existence of a unique race ― a race they solely despise as they fear they will ascend as an embodiment of evolution, forever bringing a significant change to the world. There was also one noble man who fought for the cause of equality, sadly he isn't here anymore."

For a moment, the subtlety of that thought raced Lloyd's mind. He haven't tackled any subject concerning the loss of his father but even so, he tried to let his stance be firm of the tragedy as he was already leading a legacy that was left for him to reconstruct.

"But so much for all of that, I will provide any information you wanted to know if you can find some time to approach me. For now, I want to enlighten you all that you are now a part of this faction whether you like it or not because out there, nothing will be at your favor. The government will take whatever they can dispose from their powers just to hunt you down and place you back in that grimy prison facility. But here, you're all safe. No one can track you down as they firmly believed this place has been obliterated years ago and I'm ever so thankful that they're wrong."

One of the guards approached Lloyd, handing out a small device which seemed to be more of a remote control.

"Now I know you're still adjusting and absorbing the information I've just stated out but all of your questions will be answered after we have this practice."

As Lloyd pressed the center button of the device, the room screened a bizarre projection, slowly shifting to different dimensional displays. Flickers of light coruscated at the circular platform, all of them glowed uniformly which then impelled the metal bars at the center to wind up in a spinning motion. Afterwards, a pillar of light beamed vertically from the center, casting toward the room's ceiling and unfurled its radiance through connecting proportions. At a slow pace, the entire facility was changing, as if it was an old latent photo undergoing its visible development. The ceiling transformed into an azure blanket while clouds slowly assembled into its view. The surface transfigured, later warping into a scene of an outside, open city with high-rises conjoined to form an urban landscape. Within a few minutes, everyone from the facility were somewhat transferred to a city by an unimaginable process. Including Lloyd, they were all standing on a wide space, congested by angry protesters and a police force defending a line of restriction.

"This exercise will just test how you're capable of handling your powers. You don't need to worry about passing or failing because this is merely an exhibition. Think of it as a way of introducing yourself. Your shared goal is to just help the protesters pass from the police force who are blocking the way." Lloyd raised the remote, letting the new recruits become aware of the simulation concept. "I would just like to inform you that these are real, meaning that they are able to respond to your actions whenever I press a button from this remote. They will see you, smell you, tell the color of your hair but fear not, they're artificially constructed despite being relatively close to reality. Also, please be warned that the guns these police possess can hurt you as they are mimicked by A.I. but they are far from killing you."

With a smile, he looked at the new recruits with grace, placing his thumb near a specific button of the remote.

"So, who wants to go first?" He asked as he highly noticed the redhead and the giant man to be the first possible candidates.

_{Just to set up the mood.}

The Superhuman Crusade & Alliance Revolution (S.C.A.R.)

Apologies. I've been forced to accompany someone with Christmas shopping thus, interrupting my time to write a post. Don't worry guys, I'll have this one tonight. ;)

Music Appreciation Thread

@Dynamo Frokane I'm a sucker for songs with good lyrical content even though I'm not an avid listener of rap music.
8/10

Hider

[closed]

Matthias Korfred

^{SOLDIER base: Residential Quarters}

_______________________________________________________________________

Earlier.

The world etched to a blur, fluttering a seam of grayness high above and conjured billows of funneling cyclones that gushed piercing howls of savage winds. Shrill clatters of lightning scintillated a vast uproar of gleaming light, striking at a swiftness beyond a vigilant's gaze while smaller flickers of it expanded beneath the conduits of thick belching clouds. Tress danced in hapless grace as their stand became swiveled by surging winds; their meager leaves flew violently from its channel and swirled towards the nothingness that followed it. A cold thread of mist swallowed the residue of life form, casting an obscure hollow of oblivion as the storm brought forth its decaying emanation.

Matty stood above an uncanny platform, amorphous to what it was and bizarre as how it lifted him mid-air. He felt the stifling coldness of an unwavering tempest, biting the warmth from the armour he donned. The murky mist erased half of what he saw as it proceeded on devouring what his vision could've unraveled. The stormy gust of wind deemed worse as it forced his balance to falter away from the strange rostrum. Chaos was the only notion his mind could register as the roaring thunder deafened his aural faculty, wobbling the equilibrium of his already clogged perception. Matty later yelled a singular inflection of fear and uncertainty, racing his mind to battle an evoking maelstrom as it amplified itself with each passing minute.

"Help me!" A crumbling fold of lighting followed after a superficially familiar voice implored an unheralded entreaty.

From above, clouds loomed a circular opening ― a gaping maw of surging mass that encompassed the gray-blanketed sky. Shards of lightning panned to connect from its rift following a prodigious downpour.

"Matty, please ... help me!" The voice echoed from all proportions despite the drowning racket of thunder and rain. From its timbre struck Matty to his own surprise, knowing how gravely familiar it was.

"Jacky," His sights sifted albeit the zero visibility from what the mist provided. He craned recklessly, eager to find where his deceased fiancee stood about. "Where are you? Jacky!"

Matty cried out and continued until his voice frayed and dried up.

"I'm here, Matty." It stuttered along the lines of its words, shaking from the inevitable lack of certainty subjected from what the voice truly was, whether it'd be a piddling mirage summoned by the storm's continual wrath or a memory inscribing a void planted from Matty's wounded heart.

"Help me get out of here, please."

"Where are you Jacky?" Matty continued to aimlessly wander against ravaging squalls and roars of heavy rainfall until a swift and mighty ram of lightning struck the skies, piercing his ears from its rumbling clap, eventually losing the balance he have on the platform's stand. He nearly fell but immediately took hold while the rest of him remained suspend mid-air.

Then a laugh was uttered ― a vicious, sinister snicker redeeming a vile pitch of hinted iniquitous intentions. It lasted for a few seconds before being interrupted by a booming growl of thunder.

"She's gone now," What Matty heard before transcended into a deep, echoing mesh of malice voiced within the tendrils of hatred and rage. "And soon, you will be too."

Leaden clouds girdled in convulsion, seething a rapid heave of twisting gusts that formed a swirling monster. The immense strength of the tornado hollowed the remnants left by destruction, uprooting damaged trees and consuming them to its giant, cavernous vortex. It danced within an approximate distance before the platform where Matty stood and slowly, his strength started to wear out as the tornado's power pulled him away from his resistance.

---

Abruptly, Matty rose despite being bristled from the rigidity of his weariness. Eyes wide, panning throughout the sections of his room while his breaths throbbed wildly. Unwrapping himself from his clean, tender blanket, he kicked himself out of his bed then started to scrutinize what he had just underwent from a distant vision. He sauntered towards the mirror, fixating in its direction only to see a shirtless reflection of himself. He felt cold and this time it wasn't a reverie. He then drifted away from the mirror and settled himself down as he went back to his bed. Hands buried a part of his face as Matty exhaled a soft wisp of air.

"Christ." He murmured to himself, plunging all of his weight and laid himself back on top of the bed.

Throughout the recent weeks, Jacqueline started to become a subject of his rousing nightmares. The sulking memoir of her death was the fuel of a never-ending torment, ceaselessly plunging Matty below an abyss thwarted by dismay and a dreary apparition. Despite moving forward from the unpleasant tragedy, the ashes molded by his tenacious grudge remained crawling around his reasoning. Such took direct effect to the influences of his sleep, later adjourning a subtle and solemn night into terrorizing shrieks of unsavory dreams. Often did he become frustrated about how these frequented his firm grip towards solitude. However, having an established patience has its advantages. At times, Matty consulted people close to him about his swirling nightmares, seeking succinct opinions and advices on how to overcome it. It took a positive effect but even after awhile, a dose of his nightmares still returned.

Matty winced as he felt the persisting pain lodging through his left shoulder. Perhaps the idea he had yesterday of an exaggerated weightlifting demonstration was beyond appalling. At times, his humbleness was his widely known quality as he recurrently regarded his works for the betterment of others. Yesterday was far from that as he lately realized that only his shallow bravado was flaunted from his facade. He felt embarrassed himself that the majority of the said demonstration was only him showing off his strength and expertise on the field of weightlifting only to be rewarded with an unwanted consequence.

Subsequent thuds of knocking hammered the door to his room, placing an urge to get up from bed in spite of the stiffness he felt.

"Yes?" His voice raised, making sure to let the person hear it.

"It's Jacob."

"In a moment." Puzzled from his friend's early visit, Matty slowly got up, groaning in the process then limped a couple of steps towards his dresser where he grabbed a red bathrobe.

"What do you need by the way?"

It took a mere moment before a response was voiced out. Matty was about to open the door before being forced to halt and remain to where he stood.

"You don't have to open the door. I just ..." Jacob held the words to an obstruction, a quaver from his voice gave an obvious note that something's amiss, not that it'd severely worry Matty but he was always the curious kind. "Well I―"

"I'm listening."

Delving behind the younger man was perhaps a perplexing task Matty could've appointed himself with. Lately he believed there was something hidden among his abrupt and incomplete speeches and the mystifying truths it bore had Matty doused into the deeper facets of his own curiosity.

"Uh, I'll just tell you at the training grounds. Anyway, uhm ... did you notice your name from the announcement earlier?"

"What announcement?" Matty raised an eyebrow as he stood idly between the draperies on his room's walls. Most of them adorned the arrangement of picture frames and other works of art.

"Oh, Uh, you were required to attend something. Not sure what it was but for certain the co―"

"I'll be there swiftly. Please, let them know if they start to question my punctuality."

"Alright and uhm ... sir Matthias?"

"Matty." Matty corrected. Of all the things deemed worse, being called apart from his nickname proved to be rather vexatious.

"Sorry, I mean―"

"Look Jacob. If you're going to say something, don't be bothered on saying it directly to me. I'm not going to do anything vile to you as long as―"

"Thank you." After cutting his words off, Jacob left with the sound of his footsteps clunking towards a different location. it left Matty to wonder about the uncertainty residing at the cadet. Whatever his last statement meant might have something to do with the favours he often did with new students. Perhaps he could assume it was for that reason but the truth was yet to be known.

At the council room.

For the duration of his rushed preparation had Matty wore his usual attire for the conference. Dressed with formal apparel comprising of a long-sleeved shirt tucked inside of his dark-coloured slacks. His leather shoes brimmed an elegant glow as he ambled within the halls, greeting passersby with a mirthful smile and a courteous gesture. Occasionally, there'd be people who would stop by and constrain his attention upon them, later conversing about the plans he was bringing forth for the new SOLDIER cadets. As he redundantly mentioned, it was yet to be drafted and finalized. Matty often ended those queries with an abrupt and incomplete statement just to span away from their sights.

Upon opening the doors to the designated room, Matty came across a few familiar faces. Though it'd be a bit of an effort to greet them individually, he rested upon an unbiased decision by waving his hand with a smile following thereafter.

"Pleasant morning, everyone." He hailed, allowing glee to harmonize with his voice.

While waiting for things to get started, Matty found a chair to relax on. He crossed his legs and tapped a finger across the chair's wooden arm as he sat. He enjoyed the quiet state for awhile until Hal bustled in surprisingly. Despite how sudden it was, Matty fell in hilarity as he chuckled towards Hal's peculiar request.

"Hey look at you ..." Matty meddled with the scents his nose were manifesting. He was certain his shower session was thorough regardless of being done in a rush. As carefully reckoning on his scrutiny, later did he realize the scent was merging with Hal's. Matty hid his grimace as he tried to proceed with his words.

"Alright Hal, let's have a deal. I'll cook something special after this and have champagne to top it all off but," He paused, holding his breath for a split second. "you need to tidy yourself first. I'll allow you to borrow any soap I possess as I have an assortment of them. You may even want to consider on owning one but that's up to you."

Looking back, Matty could've thought he was mocking him but honesty was always his best solution to everything. Besides, it could further prevent any grueling scents from ever penetrating his sense of smell.