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the universe is grand, but life is grander

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after they've been purified, they'll be reincarnated into a new body somewhere in the universe, and then you can obviously no longer converse with them since they're alive again.

Now, that's how it normally works. But if a person has "unfinished business", or something that strong ties them to the world, they can continue to linger on as a spirit. I imagine that's what happened with your character's witch friend.


Without the incarnation, this is largely what I had assumed, it's good to know the varying time limits, could make things interesting. I'll mention something about the constriction in the CS, is there anything else about it that needs changing?
Excuse me while I show up unannounced and swipe @MsMorningstar's format at the same time.

The Runaways, Issue 1 : Tyrone I
Wholesale District - LA 02:20



"Everyone okay?" Just the sound of Tandy’s voice brought Tyrone a wave of relief. He spared a quick glance at her to ensure she was in one piece before joining her frantic search through the mess they'd made for the other two. This was not how the night was supposed to go.

"Why were there so many? Any of them conscious enough to question?" Eddie landed in front of him, surveying the fires he had stared, then the starless-sky. “It was supposed to be raining by now.”

Tyrone shrugged. “You seen the kid?”

“She was going to deal with the other truck.”

As though on cue, a slow, but steady grinding noise began to come from the direction Eddie had pointed to. Tyrone didn’t need to look to know Tandy was at his shoulder, light blade in hand. The kid appeared from behind the tuck, dragging one of the bodies behind her with little effort. Tyrone was never really sure weather to be impressed with her, or afraid. It took a few moments for her to get close enough for the group to realize it wasn’t one of the thug’s she was pulling.

"What is it?" Tandy leaned between the two boys, offering an orb of light to let everyone get a better veiw.

“It looks like… a kid?” muttered Eddie. It was a kid. Tyrone’s eyes immediately did another sweep of the bodies around them, but no, there had only been grown men in the fight. More than was normal for trafficking. He hated that he knew that.

The kid was tied, Tyrone noticed as he was brought closer to Tandy’s light. The girl dropped his arms two feet in front of her companions and unceremoniously ripped the tape off his mouth. His eyes flew open, and a string of curses loud enough to rival the earlier fight filled the alley.

Tandy was the first to speak after the echoes subsided. "Who are you?" It took a minute for the boy to register her words, he was rubbing where the tape had been with bound hands.

"Wha-? Chase Stein." He paused as though that should have been enough for them. Tyrone looked to Tandy, who shook her head slightly, then Eddie who shrugged, the all returned their gaze to newcomer.

"You deal with Simon Marshall?" The kid hesitated, and Tandy charged him, the light that had lit the alley came to a focus on the boy’s throat.

Tyrone followed her forward "Tandy!" He had to forcefully pull her away. "What the hell? We’re here to help.”

"We didn't see what was in the other truck.” She shrugged his hand off, and was glaring at him. "He was here, the only one left here and he's still alive. He knows something."

Tyrone’s own heart skipped a beat. "Were there other kids?” He asked.

“Who the fuck are you people?” The poor kid was staring at both Tandy and Eddie in turn and looked equal parts terrified and confused. This kid wasn’t some great conspirator. Not that Tandy was so easily swayed.

“Answer the question”

"What?"

“Where are the other kids?” Tyrone held her wrist, not entirely certain she wasn’t going to lunge again. What was with her? She was always the one picking up any stray that landed at their feet.

"Kids? There were no kids, they were making a weapons deal- look I didn't have anything to do with it, I swear."

“He’s in as much shit as the rest of us.” Eddie said with a pitting smile. Tyrone nodded. The silent girl standing next to Chase crouched down and began undoing his bonds.

“You’re all really just going to trust him like that?”

“We did for them.” Tyrone felt comfortable letting go of Tandy’s wrist to gesture to the devil and mute of their crew.

“Besides,” Eddie pitched in “we can’t stick around here forever, the cops are bound to be on their way here by now.”
Tyrone looked at the four people surrounding him and considered his remaining stamina. He’d taken groups of six before, but those had been little kids, and even sitting it wasn’t hard to see the new kid was at least matched him in size. "Don't think I can take all of us."

“I can fly back.” Eddie offered. Tandy threw her arms into the air and turned from the group, making her way back to examine the small stack of remaining crates.

"Don’t think that’s the best idea Red.” Tyrone said as gently as possible while awkwardly gesturing to his tail, horns, and well, entire body. “We don’t know if there’s anyone left to follow us.”

“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Chase finally spoke up, and began to bring himself to his feet, wobbled for a moment then found his footing well enough to give Tyrone an indignant glare.

“Right, sorry. I’m Tyrone, that was Tandy, this is Eddie. We’re going to take you home with us.” He hesitated. “Unless you have another home to go to.” He’d gotten used to finding kids with nothing.

Chase stared at him blankly and slowly began to shake his head. “Why should I be going with you?”

Tyrone gave what he hoped was a comforting smile – seriously why wasn’t Tandy doing this part? “We can get you out of here fast, and maybe help with some of your other problems. Or maybe you can help by telling us what was going on here tonight.”

“Alright” he said after a moment. “Just let me get my things.”

Tyrone shrugged, and the kid went sprinting back to the truck. Suddenly his stomach dropped, he’d never hear the end of it if the one time he’d been the trusting one the kid had cut loose and ran back to a gang or something.

Tandy returned to them, a large object tucked between her arm and hip. “Well he’s not a complete liar at least.” She presented the thing to the group. “No idea what it does though.”

The supposed weapon didn’t look like much, sleek and black with no visible seems. Almost a rectangle with curved corners and a convex top.

“I’ll take a look at it back home.” Eddie said, though he was already reaching for whatever it was to examine more closely.

“Where’d the other girl go?” Chase had returned, this time with a pack slung over one shoulder.

“Headed back on her own I guess.” Tandy muttered, still looking at the weapon and not him. “She’ll fair better on her own then you did don’t worry.”

“We should be going too, before anyone shows up.” Tyrone reminded, before any note could be made on Tandy’s tone.

“How far is it?”

Tandy laughed, Tyrone grimaced, and Eddie took the boy’s elbow. “I suggesting thinking of something warm.”
The Runaways, Issue 1 : Chase I
Wholesale District - LA 02:06


Admittedly, Chase wasn't an expert on the whole superhero gig. But even his tenuous grasp on the subject told him being tied up and getting a stern talking-to about being sent back to your parents wasn't a stellar start to the career.

"Sure we should be letting him see this?"

"Nothing he hasn't already seen. Knows more than we do I bet." The two minder’s Chase had dubbed jackass and idiot, seemed just about as tired of him as he was with them.

"Should'a had him help unload then" Jackass grumbled as he began to roll a fourth cigarette. His name has been earned for punching Chase in the jaw. Idiot was idiot for letting him when he knew it was his employer's son his partner was hitting. Maybe that made him less stupid in the end.

"This is taking too long"

Chase nodded in silent agreement, fear has passed to boredom about an hour after they’d met up with a second group over an hour earlier, and he'd had a long day. Of course, the end of the night meant going home to dear ol’ mom and pop, whom he doubted would be holding a banner welcome. Best case scenario, they’d play it cool again and send someone else to do the dirty deed. More likely his father would just kill him. The former plan hadn't worked last time, and if there was one thing the Stien's were good for it was learning. Or so he'd been told, maybe that gene skipped every generation or something. There wasn’t much for Chase to do other than rub his wrists raw against his restraints, and every so often he catch himself craning for a better look at the action happening on the opposite end of the alley. Sure, he'd seen what was in the crates already, but he'd been a little more preoccupied with getting the stuff out so he could get in before anyone found him. As well as that plan had worked out.

Light broke through his thoughts self-pity before any noise. Fire and light cutting straight through the two groups 20 feet away. But distance didn't stop Chase from jumping to his feet in a panic - onto tied feet, which left him face flat on the pavement. That was when the noises began to register. Mostly shouting.

"Get the van!"

"They fuck us over?"

"Cops?!"

"It's those fucking kids!"

"Guess it's two for one night, lucky us!"

That last one was incredibly out of place. Young, and-happy? Chase twisted on the ground and with great effort managed to lift his head. His eyes still only level with the ground, it was hard to see much anything other than the fires, burning much closer than was comfortable. The other gang’s truck had started, had they even finished loading? So much for honor among thieves. Or criminals at least. His minder’s came out of their own shock and appeared to remembered his existence.

"I got the kid, let’s get out of here."

A pair of boots blocked Chase’s view and a hard grip dragged him up by the collar. His pride and favourite shirt ruined in the same night. The hit to the head obviously left him dazed. No sooner was on he on his feet, then the grip was gone and he was falling again, backwards this time. The back of his head hit the pavement, and the world instantly began to blur, but he could have sworn there was a kid standing over him just before it went black.
Sample post added. Sorry for the wait.
Just looking for feedback on concepts before diving into actual writing.
M A U R O



The sort of people that visited down-town area such as the Chateau Rouge rarely crossed over with those that visited Mauro's clinic. That didn't stop others from feeling the effects of the explosion, mere hours after it happened; emergency services were all but completely occupied, and emergency rooms in the real hospitals quickly reached capacity. Normal people who would never deign to come so far as the under-city were banging on the gated entrance to St. Benedetta's.

Mauro was blissfully unaware of the panic happening outside of his doors until being woken by a sharp poke below the ribs. He's fallen asleep leaning against a wall in the clinic, hardly a rare occurrence; no time was every really any calmer than another, and it kept more beds open. He blinked to try and wake himself more rapidly, but still had to ask Maria to repeat herself once away of her presence to his left.

"No time for naps. World needs saving." She handed him a battered clipboard which he glanced over, still barely able to register the few notes she'd written down.

"Weren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"I'm not the one passing out in the open. Not that either of us can afford beauty sleep right now, it's a madhouse out there."

"Something happen?" Mauro checked his pockets to make sure a wandering patient hadn't picked them, before walking towards the so called 'lobby' of the clinic, suddenly anxious. The entire city was on the brink, they'd been waiting for the final tip in the scales for days, it would be just like him to fall asleep while it happened.

"Dunno. I didn't hear anything." After the fifth radio they'd placed in the clinic had been stolen, they'd always been a bit behind with the city events, getting news from patients; an unreliable system at best. They reached the lobby filled with some of the most desperate residence of Santa Celia. Too many. On a weekend night they often had over ten people waiting. There were over thirty.

"Why are so many covered in blood?"

"Not blood. Rain. Really the city that keeps on giving"

Mauro shook his head. A problem for later, but definitely one worth looking into. He handed the clipboard back to Maria "You can handle stitches, and I'll help your reset the woman's broken bone when you're done." Maria didn't argue and disappeared to the back as Mauro opened the gate holding back the crowd. Half a dozen were screaming and waving for attention, those Mauro ignored. If they were well enough to be doing that, they didn't need his help. He took only two steps out in order to reach for a man purple in the face, swaying on his feet with unfocused eyes. People made room enough for him to be dragged through the crowds and into the clinic proper; it was well known enough that forcing your way in meant losing any chance of being treated.

The gate locked behind them as Mauro felt around the man's head and neck. Hyoid fracture, a few days old, but it'd been knocked around a bit and was causing issues with breathing. The man tried to say something unintelligible before slumping against the wall. Mauro wrapped the stranger's arm around his own shoulders and half walked, half dragged him down the hall. Everything else seemed stable, but lying down would make it worse. He'd need a tracheotomy while he tried to get everything back in place. There wasn't a place in the entire under-city that was sterile enough for such a procedure, never-mind that he had no way of making the man unconscious for it.

When Maria found him again, Mauro had given up suturing the temporary hole he made, and was bandaging the now unconscious man's neck tightly enough he was having nearly the same amount of difficult breathing as before; all while clutching his lower abdomen.

"Got a fighter did ya?" Mauro only grunted in response, motioning her over with his head, while he stepped back and tried to take a deep breath while pressing against the old scar the bastard had kneed him in.

"Still got a clean cut though" Maria complimented, as she tried her own hand at stitching the wound.

"Not that he seemed to appreciate it."

"Oh you're just going to open-fracture bitch then."

"You didn't mention it was open."

"She wouldn't let me cut off her jeans before. Still didn't let me to be honest but she was screaming bloody murder either way."

"Don't have enough resources to deal with infection, or time to be picking pieces of bone out."

Mauro sighed closed his eyes while Maria finished her work in silence. Losing a leg was never an ideal situation, worse still for the people that came to him. Whoever it was in the other room wasn't likely to have the option of getting a prosthetic.

"Not falling sleep on me again are you?"

"No just- get something to put the fracture woman out." He reached for a poorly sewn inner pocket in his shirt to hand her a keycard that would grant access to the poorly dubbed 'pharmacy'. Antibiotics were always in low supply, but there were always confiscated opioids to spare. "She's going to lose the leg, should probably warn her of that. I'm going to find some coffee and make sure they're not about to burn the place down out there."

"Already got one made, check my room." She left him alone with the patient again, who appeared to be resting normally, despite the fresh bandages around his neck and the make-shift brace. Mauro touched the man's wrist one more time before leaving, making sure to lock the room behind him.
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