The Man Emperor

The Energy Storm

---

Sanzhar Kravchenko

---

After a rather fruitful talk with Devan in the café, Sanzhar would continue on towards... hmmm...

"Where can I go..." Sanzhar pondered as he slowly prodded along, not knowing where to go. He was still at a lose on what to do, as the words he needed to write eluded him.

The soldiers were gathering up now. Sanzhar decided to take a backdoor, getting away from the major footpaths as he headed towards the FEMA camp. He heard that there was quite a bit of stuff going on in there, so he thought maybe, just maybe, he can run a story there. And perhaps get a raise too.

---

Karagoz Dimirci

---

Karagoz Dimirci walked along the length of one of the suburban areas south of the city of San Francisco, his face hidden by a cap and a black cloth face mask. Over one of his eyes was a grey eyepatch, given to him a few years ago after he came back from the sandy battlefields of Afghanistan. He had lost sight in his left eye, and used the eyepatch to keep the now useless ocular organ away from the sight of others. Besides, he looked particularly foreign, despite growing up in this city and country, and would be better off if he laid low. After everything that happened, many people weren't keen on people that looked like him.

But he wasn't going to lay low. Not now. This country had just passed a law. A law restricting people like him from certain professions, and now, he can't walk without getting suspicious eyes all over him. He fought for this nation, bled in foreign battlefields because of the flag he served was attacked, and now...

"Sir." A National Guardsman looked over him with scrutinous eyes. "Papers please."

Sullenly, Karagoz handed him his identity papers. The Guardsman read them for a few seconds, and looked back at him. "We need you to submit to testing, sir."

"Is this a joke?" Karagoz snarled. "I fought for this country, and you people have the nerve to force me into testing-"

"Sir, it's the law."

Karagoz scoffed. "Well it's a stupid law, just like you!"

"Sir, I will have to-"

But it was done. Karagoz tore off his facemask and vomited a whole Glas of white colored napalm right at the man, causing him to scream in agony. The attention of his comrades was turned towards the rapidly rising column of flame that arose out of their comrade, whose exposed face and arms were now as crispy as roast meat. Seeing that their newest arrival was a hostile Altered, they turned to open fire... only to be licked upon by rapidly spinning tongues of white flame, which burned very, very hot. Within seconds, Karahoz had burned the entire checkpoint as nearby civilians screamed and ran; others took videos that will be trending soon enough. But for now, Karagoz Dimirci, who had pulled out a gas mask from his bag and put it on his face by the time the footage began to roll, will be known as the Silver Flame, a friend of the Reaper who called upon other Altered humans to rise up...

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

---

Finbarr Callaghan

The Galactic Bazaar

---

Those funnels of darkness detached from the cloud, each one giving itself a grotesque but humanoid shape before manifesting it into reality. Landing on the ground, in front of the unconscious Alan and facing everyone else were what could only be described as...

"By order of the Low-Father, we demand justified subduction by enforcers of local law! Surrender or Die!" One of them said, pointing its axe at them. Even Maria was not avoiding conflict as one of them grew wings and headed right for her. The goblins on the ground - about the same amount as the amount of people currently at the location - did not wait for an answer as they rushed towards them like old-age savages.

"A, shut the hell up!" Finbarr turned towards one of the charging goblin creatures, the flickering light in his eyes betraying a sense of annoyance and irritation at the savages that had just threatened them. Granted, it was a natural reaction to the appearance of a pyrokinetic pillar in the middle of a market place, but death threats were just something else entirely. Was due process just not a thing anymore?

In any case, golden and purple lights shimmered around Finbarr's hands, magic energies coalescing into a beam of energy that struck the nearest charging Goblin right at its chest, sending it flying away several meters towards one of the stalls, which had become empty as the people or person manning it had already fled out of panic. Another goblin got too near for his comfort, and was immediately locked into place by Finbarr's Spacetime Lockdown spell, an azure beam that pulsated with quantum magic striking its head and exploding into the dimensional cage it was now stuck in.

Huffing, Finbarr then threw open a portal that led into the Xuanzang's doorstep, motioning at Trajan, who was carrying a still smoking Alan, as well as the others, to get a move on.

"Get your lazy bums out, now!"

---

---

Trajan Pyke

The Galactic Bazaar

---

"...Was it good for you?" He weakly said in jest, a just as weak smile on his face, perhaps as some way to try and ease up the tension in the air, or as a way to show to his likely worrying friends that he was alright. Either way, as soon as he said that, he collapsed to the floor, residual heat still on him.

"It's ok, he's unconscious but still alive. Everyone volunteering to take him back, now's your chance. Be careful though, his body's still exuding some heat."

"Come on now... ouch!" Trajan recoiled a bit as he touched Alan's still smoking form with his bare hand, lightly scalding his finger tips in the process. He waved his hand to cool it off a bit, and looked back at Alan, slipping on a pair of gloves as he carefully reached for the pyrokinetic, feeling the heat wafting out of Alan's body as if he was holding a recently doused out barbeque grill. Gently and carefully, he lifted him up, and started towards the portal that Finbarr had opened, only his peripheral vision to catch one of the gibbering goblins approaching his position with an axe in hand.

Trajan scoffed, and placed Alan unto his left shoulder as he pulled out his Revolving Blade Sword from the sheath on his belt. He waved it in front of the goblin, a gesture meant to warn it to stay away. "Stay the hell away, snake eyes." Trajan growled, protectively waving his sword at the creature. "Or else you'll taste a one thousand degree hot blade up your ass!" As he did so, he kept on inching towards the portal, aiming the blade at the goblin, as it was getting closer and closer...

---

Klein Harris

The Galactic Bazaar

---

As the cavalcade of goblins strode forward to strike as one, they'd find an unwelcome interruption to their assault. No less than twenty other creatures had been formed; grotesque monsters, formed out of the fears of everyone in the immediate vicinity. Some would see their vengeful ex-wives and abusive husbands, only if they were seven feet tall, had very sharp teeth, were constantly dripping blood, and smelt of rotting flesh. Some took the form of what could only be described as some strange amalgamation of man and animal, humanoid creatures with the heads of dogs and snakes and spiders, hissing like demented mental asylum patients as they threw themselves towards the nearest goblin or enforcer with wanton abandon. They didn't care if they got hacked apart by axes, or if they were shot; they would just charge, eager to cut open whatever they fell upon.

Klein shuddered inwardly. He had despised his own magic, as it was a horrible thing that called forth death and nightmares, but it was useful, nonetheless. If anything, they were going to be a distraction, as those weren't particularly durable.

This won't be enough, though. Klein reached into his bag, and produced an Avtonat Kalashnikova 89, a favorite of insurgents and mercenaries. He would, with impunity, unload plasma fire at the goblins that got too near to him as he steadily retreated. Not today, Satan.

The Energy Storm

Karagoz Dimirci

Character Profile

Name: Karagoz Dimirci
Age: 36
Gender: A Man
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 69 kilograms
Ethnicity: Turkish-Circassian
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Religion: Semi-Agnostic
Occupation: Ex-Soldier; Reaper’s Ally

Ability:

Argent Pyrokinesis (Or as he calls it, Dragonfire): He is able to breathe and spit white colored flaming napalm, which sticks on and burns combustible materials upon contact with a temperature of 2,400 Fahrenheit. He requires energy to use this ability; as such, if he uses it excessively, he will endure some weight loss. Karagoz can also manipulate existing flames within ten feet, controlling, amplifying, or extinguishing them.

As an added bonus, Karagoz is immune towards heat based damage; however, as fire burns up oxygen, he will often use a gas mask in order to avoid asphyxiating himself.

Background: Karagoz Dimirci was the youngest child of a family of Turkish migrants to the United States. He didn’t have a lot growing up, as the Dimircis were never the richest lot to begin with. They tried all sorts of odd jobs in the States, but even then, were not able to climb the social ladder. Karagoz would thus grow up to an existence that is marginally better than what they would have had back in Ankara.

While facing discrimination for their religion and heritage, Karagoz would eventually sign up for the army, going into three tours in Afghanistan and Iraq, each one progressively worse than the last. He came back, scarred by what he had seen in the conflict, but he would still be looked upon with distaste by society.

Karagoz would then be a bitter veteran, lamenting that he had only tried to make things better for everyone he loved, only for trash to be thrown at him for being the kid of Islamic immigrants. To make matters worse, he would be the only remaining member of the Dimirci family after the Energy Storm; their entire apartment collapsed after a pillar of energy bisected it, killing everyone inside. Then he got sick.

When he recovered, he discovered that he had pyrokinetic powers. At first, he couldn’t care less, but when the government passed laws that restricted the movement of people like himself, disappointment turned into rage. He was spurred on by Reaper’s speeches, convincing him that this nation has to be taught a lesson through force...

The Energy Storm

---

Sanzhar Kravchenko

---

San Francisco, California

Am I busy? He wondered before responding. "Not terribly, do you want to meet at the cafe down the road from the clinic?"

At the very least, the company would keep him from idling there much longer. He took one last long swig of the coffee before sending out another text. "I've been bored out of my mind over here."

Sanzhar quickly texted back, his thumbs tapping at the keyboard of his phone like in a blur. He almost never took more than a minute to reply to text messages, which has been noted by his publisher to have made it easy for him to be worked with. Plus he was absolutely patient and methodical with everything else he did. "Good, good, I'm on my way. See you friend."

As Sanzhar walked towards their supposed meeting place, he reminisced the older days with Devan and the others. They went to the same high school, and had been the source of some trouble back then. Funny how time seemed to pass so quickly these days. Natural disasters, superpowers... what else...?

Ah, right. He gained his own metal manipulation abilities after being afflicted by the Energy Plague. His brother Alek didn't manifest anything weird, but a common denominator of people that got powers were that they were of minorities, and had been down with the plague as well. Devan was Latino and had the plague too... maybe he has something...

With certain personalities trying to restrict their freedom, it was high time Sanzhar looked for others like him. Birds of the same feather flock together, after all.

---

After a few good minutes, Sanzhar arrived in the cafe, just to find Devan already there with his own cup of coffee. "Man, you really couldn't wait, huh?" Sanzhar chuckled, stooping down a little bit to give him a short hug. "Okay, I'll get my own coffee and a donut first. Gimme a minute."

Walking up to the barista, Sanzhar pulled out a few dollars. "Frappe cappuccino please. And one of those glazed donuts..."

With that done, Sanzhar got back to their table, setting his tray of orders. First thing he noticed were the bandages around Devan's hands. Weird. He didn't have those before.

"What's with the bandages?" Sanzhar asked, sipping from his cup with a straw. 'What happened?"

The Energy Storm

---

Sanzhar Kravchenko

---

San Francisco, California

"Hmmmm..."

Sanzhar quietly sat on his desk chair, staring at the empty Google Docs document in front of him. He had some ideas for a new book; a vision of some far future, where another star had a close flyby to the solar system, and thus kicked out the Earth, turning it into a rogue planet. Pretty much everyone was dead, except for those few million that had been able to stay within specially built domes powered by nuclear and geothermal energy. And then the story goes on from there...

And he's stumped. He couldn't tell why, but Sanzhar just couldn't find the right words for his first sentence. He already had everything! Why... why couldn't he think of something? Sanzhar cursed at himself, placing his feet on top of the desk and reclining on the chair whilst putting his hands on the back of his head. The writer's block had him again. And it was having him far too often these days. It was really unfortunate, too. He needed something to get his mind away from all that had been happening in the country; many sections of the city lay in ruins, millions are dead, there was a plague going on, and... people were getting superpowers.

Including himself.

Sighing, Sanzhar motioned at one of the magnetic earth balls lying in a tray on his desk, prying it from its magnetic connection to the container. The silver sphere levitated two or so inches above his palm, his eyes utterly fixated on its prime curvature. What to do, what to do...

Ah!

Taking on his imagination, Sanzhar began to shape the sphere with his metalbending, etching out depressions on its silver surface. The earth ball shuddered under the pressure of his newfound powers, but he was careful and gentle in his craft. The shapes of the world's continents etched themselves on the miniature sphere, turning the thing into a literal Earth ball. Sanzhar smirked as he looked upon his creation, and placed it onto a pedestal on his bookshelf.

"Hey, Sanzhar?"

"Mmmmm." Sanzhar turned to his brother, Erasyl. "What is it?"

"I... uh, I'm going out." Erasyl said sheepishly. "Just gonna get groceries for lunch today."

"You sure?" Sanzhar asked. "You just got discharged."

"Nah, I'm fine." Erasyl said. "By the way, did you hear about what that guy said on live tv? Benny... Sten?"

"Stein." Sanzhar corrected. "All I can say is that he's an ass and I'm making a post about it soon enough. Bound to get a lot of attention now..."

"Okay." Erasyl nodded and turned away. "I'm going now."

With his brother now gone from earshot, Sanzhar sat back on his bed, thinking about what to do. He had a severe case of writer's block, had nothing better to do, and...

Oh! He'll visit a friend. Maybe that will get his spirits up.

Quickly, Sanzhar pulled out his phone, and texted Devan Flores.

"Hello there friend, I was thinking of hanging out today. Are you busy today?"

Now, now. Now he'll wait for a response.

@Prosaic

The Energy Storm

Sanzhar Kravchenko

---

---

Name: Sanzhar Kravchenko
Age: 28
Gender: Man
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 57 kg
Ethnicity: Asian American (Kazakhstani)
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Religion: Baptist
Occupation: Author and Journalist

Ability:
Metalbending: Sanzhar is able to control, shape, and manipulate any kind of metal of up to 250 kilograms, whether ferromagnetic or diamagnetic. Metals that are liquid in natural form, such as gallium and mercury, are significantly more difficult to control. The metal has to be of significant enough quantities (meaning he cannot use the iron within someone's blood) within 10 feet to be manipulated. It also needs to be visible to the naked eye.

Background: Sanzhar comes from the city of Almaty, in Kazakhstan. He was born as the eldest of three children in a family that counted itself amongst the country's very small Protestant minority, and as such, has faced persecution from both the Kazakhstan government and society at large. Dmitri was only five years old when his family scrounged up enough to immigrate to the United States, thereby getting away from all the pressures and terrors of their homeland. It would be in San Francisco, California, where they finally settled down and made a new life for themselves.

Here, in the States, they prospered. Whereas they were looked upon with suspicious eyes back in Kazakhstan due to being of a different religion, here, the Kravchenkos could work more or less freely. Such was the upgrade to their situation that all three children were able to finish college, and got to careers of their own. Sanzhar in particular chose to go the risky path of the journalist, eventually returning to Kazakhstan as part of a documentary team. But that's not the interesting part; not yet, that is.

When he returned to his new home after that round in their ancestral homeland, the Energy Storm erupted. His brother and his parents were all injured in the storm, though by some intervention of providence, they managed to recover. However, Sanzhar in turn got sick from the epidemic that came next. Though he got well after, he didn't realize his own powers until a metal box got knocked out from the balcony right towards his head. Instinct kicked in, and he... well, used his metalbending to keep the thing from giving him a concussion.

Seeing that he got new gifts, Sanzhar would continually practice in secret, with only his siblings and best friend knowing that he was a freak of nature...

---

Karagoz Dimirci

Character Profile

Name: Karagoz Dimirci
Age: 36
Gender: A Man
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 69 kilograms
Ethnicity: Turkish-Circassian
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Religion: Semi-Agnostic
Occupation: Ex-Soldier; Reaper’s Ally

Ability:

Argent Pyrokinesis (Or as he calls it, Dragonfire): He is able to breathe and spit white colored flaming napalm, which sticks on and burns combustible materials upon contact with a temperature of 2,400 Fahrenheit. He requires energy to use this ability; as such, if he uses it excessively, he will endure some weight loss. Karagoz can also manipulate existing flames within ten feet, controlling, amplifying, or extinguishing them.

As an added bonus, Karagoz is immune towards heat based damage; however, as fire burns up oxygen, he will often use a gas mask in order to avoid asphyxiating himself.

Background: Karagoz Dimirci was the youngest child of a family of Turkish migrants to the United States. He didn’t have a lot growing up, as the Dimircis were never the richest lot to begin with. They tried all sorts of odd jobs in the States, but even then, were not able to climb the social ladder. Karagoz would thus grow up to an existence that is marginally better than what they would have had back in Ankara.

While facing discrimination for their religion and heritage, Karagoz would eventually sign up for the army, going into three tours in Afghanistan and Iraq, each one progressively worse than the last. He came back, scarred by what he had seen in the conflict, but he would still be looked upon with distaste by society.

Karagoz would then be a bitter veteran, lamenting that he had only tried to make things better for everyone he loved, only for trash to be thrown at him for being the kid of Islamic immigrants. To make matters worse, he would be the only remaining member of the Dimirci family after the Energy Storm; their entire apartment collapsed after a pillar of energy bisected it, killing everyone inside. Then he got sick.

When he recovered, he discovered that he had pyrokinetic powers. At first, he couldn’t care less, but when the government passed laws that restricted the movement of people like himself, disappointment turned into rage. He was spurred on by Reaper’s speeches, convincing him that this nation has to be taught a lesson through force...

Zeke Salazar, the Starforger

Character Profile

---

Name: Zeke Salazar
Age: 27
Gender: A Man
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 61 kg
Ethnicity: Latin American
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Religion: Roman Catholic
Occupation: IT Technician

---

Ability:
Astragenesis: Zeke is essentially a living solar furnace. He produces solar energy within himself, which he can then manifest into miniature stars. These stars have multiple applications; namely, they can be used to illuminate dark areas akin to an omni-directional flashlight, and be used as powerful explosives with a radius of five feet. In these detonations, it also showers living creatures inside the radius with cosmic radiation, causing painful burns that thankfully have no long term effects.

The stars continually radiate warmth as long as they're active, and could fire off coronal ejections of hot plasma, burning anything they come into contact with. Zeke himself has become immune to solar radiation; as such, he won't have sunburns ever again.

At any given time, he can only have two stars active.

Background: A true and tested native of San Francisco as long as he could remember, Zeke comes from its outer suburbs. He was born to a rather well off family, and had a pair of sisters that he would always refer to as the Spice Girls. As a general rule, he never got too deep into the city itself; Zeke had learned from his own father, who had seen that place for himself, that crime is rampant, and the casinos and nightclubs were just a facade that hid a festering core of desolation within the hearts of men.

And so, Zeke would grow up with the standard life; he went to elementary and high school, found his way into college, and graduated as a major in information technology. He went ahead and worked in one of the telecommunications companies in San Francisco, going in and out morning and night. It was all end, if not for the fact that he could never find a love for his life. Maybe he was too narrow minded to see the hints, but alas, he never tried harder.

Then the Energy Storm came. Much of the city became a ruin, and to compound things, Zeke was afflicted by the plague. Though he made a quick recovery, it would turn out that the illness had left a permanent mark on him. One night, as he looked over towards the shining band of the Milky Way, he found himself subconsciously manifesting a star of his own; a little golden sphere of plasmatic heat, levitating on his palm. And on that abandoned field out in the open, he started to play with powers he had yet to understand. Stars danced and winked away at will, and when he flung it towards the ground, it turned into a blinding flash, an explosion that left quite a mark on the ground. But that was just it. These powers are going to leave a mark.

And now, the stars may not be so kind to his fate. With such raw power, Zeke realized that the government would be very happy to use him as a power source for that experimental railgun in the navy… but he can't get out.

Not now.

Lysander Shen/Shen Yongzheng

Name: Lysander Shen
Age: 19
Gender: A Man
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 54 kilograms
Ethnicity: Asian-American (Chinese descent)
Sexual Orientation: Hetero
Religion: Methodist
Occupation: Undergraduate College Student (Sophomore)

Ability:

Object Imbuement: Nothing can say for sure what the limits of this are, but Lysander is psychically bonded with his stuffed dragon, which he has carried with him since childhood. When he is threatened, the little plaything is roused into life as a seven feet tall beast of fire and war that follows his every command to the letter. He could, in theory, turn any statue, mannequins or stuffed toy into a transformed weapon, but he can only have one at a time, and the sentimental value of the dragon ensures that he is sticking to it. He would also prefer something he could carry around without trouble.

A common trait of everything that Lysander transforms is that they are always on fire once active. Orange flames cover their every being, defying the laws of physics as they themselves do not burn even if their source material is flammable. Each one of them possesses the strength of five men and with the virtue of being non-biological beings, need no rest nor sleep. They can cross through space to return to Lysander's side, and if their source object is being harmed (ex, someone tries to rip the stuffed dragon apart), they will transform as a self protective measure.

If one is destroyed while transformed, Lysander will be free to imbue another object with his powers to make that one his pawn, but it takes several minutes to fully take control of it. Should it be roused into transformation too quickly, it will not follow his orders, and instead attack any living beings nearby until it has no more targets in sight or if it is destroyed.

Curiously enough, the objects he transforms turn out to be highly intelligent and speak to him on a regular basis, going as far as to call him Father. Whatever mind resides in there seems to retain all memories on previous vessels. What this means exactly, one cannot tell.

Background: Lysander Shen, youngest of three children, was born in Hong Kong as Shen Yongzheng to Shen Liwei and Shen Lanying. In the first five years of his life, Yongzheng would live under the thumb of enterprising parents that tried every business under the sky. And yet, despite their every effort, they ended up losing more than they gained at each turn. Times came when they had to skip a meal a day. Those were terrible days for the Shen family, their luck failing them at every turn.

Of course, not everything was terrible, really. When Yongzheng was three, their more affluent relatives from the mother's side supported their finances. Liwei, after all, graduated top of his class as a major in business. This was his thing, right? It was just that the competitors were being pesky and did everything to tear them down… Well, maybe there was a better life elsewhere.

And so it was decided. A few months after his fifth birthday, Yongzheng came to a whole new country, America. Though the locals were often not too receptive, they quickly found a community of their own people living there and integrated. The Shens then picked up Anglo names to better fit in. Since his mother was a fan of Greek history, she suggested Lysander to be his name, after the Spartan admiral of old. With a simple nod, Shen Yongzheng would then be known henceforth as Lysander Shen by anyone who wasn't his own kin.

From them on, he lived a normal life. Aside from the spates of racism, Lysander had it well. He wasn't buried under student loans like a lot of others, and made the parents proud with his academics. He always did his best.

And then… something happened at college. He had fallen for this girl from his class (and the feeling was mutual), and after a particularly drunken party, they spent the night in a less than ideal way for people of their age. It was just fun, they said. But she called a few weeks later, saying she was vomiting way too much.

He was now going to be a dad at 19.

What could he do, then? The foolishness of youth has jeopardized his future.

Before he could decide, the Energy Storm and Plague came. Both he and the girl were afflicted by the plague, and while he lived, she and the one within her perished. She had decided to keep it. He was the one that couldn't decide. To make matters worse, his mother had died from the Storm itself, crushed by a falling pillar when the beams of light coruscated from the skies.

Such was the pain, and yet, he told no one of his secret. Lysander feared that since he had been known as this flawless genius child, such a thing would be seen as a disgrace. And so he hides it to this day.

That wasn't all, though. The plague had given him something else other than pain and suffering. He found out that he was an Altered when he had wandered into an alleyway out of sheer numbness. A group of street thugs confronted him, and as he stared at them as they yelled obscenities, the stuffed dragon that hung from his backpack burst into unnatural life. It was reborn as a beast of fire, and its roar scared the group away, leaving an awe-stricken Lysander.

It was at this moment, when the fiery beast wrought from woven cloth and hellfire spoke to him, calling him Father as he had created it from his own dreams. Though he refuses to call the seven feet tall fire dragon his child, there was no doubt that he was its creator.

The Energy Storm

Sanzhar Kravchenko

---

---

Name: Sanzhar Kravchenko
Age: 28
Gender: Man
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 57 kg
Ethnicity: Asian American (Kazakhstani)
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Religion: Baptist
Occupation: Author and Journalist

Ability:
Metalbending: Sanzhar is able to control, shape, and manipulate any kind of metal of up to 250 kilograms, whether ferromagnetic or diamagnetic. Metals that are liquid in natural form, such as gallium and mercury, are significantly more difficult to control. The metal has to be of significant enough quantities (meaning he cannot use the iron within someone's blood) within 10 feet to be manipulated. It also needs to be visible to the naked eye.

Background: Sanzhar comes from the city of Almaty, in Kazakhstan. He was born as the eldest of three children in a family that counted itself amongst the country's very small Protestant minority, and as such, has faced persecution from both the Kazakhstan government and society at large. Dmitri was only five years old when his family scrounged up enough to immigrate to the United States, thereby getting away from all the pressures and terrors of their homeland. It would be in San Francisco, California, where they finally settled down and made a new life for themselves.

Here, in the States, they prospered. Whereas they were looked upon with suspicious eyes back in Kazakhstan due to being of a different religion, here, the Kravchenkos could work more or less freely. Such was the upgrade to their situation that all three children were able to finish college, and got to careers of their own. Sanzhar in particular chose to go the risky path of the journalist, eventually returning to Kazakhstan as part of a documentary team. But that's not the interesting part; not yet, that is.

When he returned to his new home after that round in their ancestral homeland, the Energy Storm erupted. His brother and his parents were all injured in the storm, though by some intervention of providence, they managed to recover. However, Sanzhar in turn got sick from the epidemic that came next. Though he got well after, he didn't realize his own powers until a metal box got knocked out from the balcony right towards his head. Instinct kicked in, and he... well, used his metalbending to keep the thing from giving him a concussion.

Seeing that he got new gifts, Sanzhar would continually practice in secret, with only his siblings and best friend knowing that he was a freak of nature...

---

The Energy Storm

Ah, looks like someone got a Russian before I did...

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

---

Finbarr Callaghan

The Galactic Bazaar

---

Narvia sends a message to the other Star Marines that aren’t with her that Finbarr is. ’ Finbarr and I will rendezvous with you, Ashton and Flame!’ Her messages are adorable when she sends messages to everyone since it is how she acts all the time. However, this message was a bit more adorable with how she put Finbarr before her in a different type of way. If it weren’t hinting at something, many people would be blind or deaf to what has happened between Finbarr and her.

"The bloody hell did that guy go get into this time...?" Finbarr grumbled lowly as the two of them ran towards the epicenter of the activity in the Bazaar. The pillar of flames were still visible from their view point, which only caused Finbarr to worry even more. "My Hid. Alan. He's in such an unlucky streak these days. First he gets captured and imprisoned by Ascendancy forces, and now, he blew up, literally. How he he is still alive and breathing right now is a big mystery to me."

"This is Maria...delay the last order, extinguish the pillar and Alan. Time is a luxury we no longer have." She said to everyone in the channel. It was around that time that she then heard Jude next.

"Ah, affirmative." Finbarr replied to Maria through the telepathic network. "Narvia, once I get within range, I'll open a portal in order to close the gap between us and Alan and get the extinguishers. We- what the he-"

Of course, he just saw one of the gunships careen out of control. It appeared that Nero had gotten himself a ride. And, there was the thing about the pirates that were hunting for someone with white flames; no one but Alan fit the bill.

As soon as Finbarr was within visual range of Alan, he opened a portal, running in to exit a few feet away from Alan. He grabbed one of the extinguishers and started blasting Alan with it, hoping that Narvia had followed him through the portal. "Don't worry, my man. I won't let anything happen to you!"

---

---

Trajan Pyke

The Galactic Bazaar

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When the whole shabang with Alan's fire magic had blown up all over the place, Trajan was in the nearby marketplace, buying souvenirs and rations with what extra money he had. Thankfully, he hadn't been purchasing alcoholic beverages, but that merely implied that he had a bunch of those still hidden under lock and key in his quarters back in Xuanzang.

And now, Alan was a pillar of flame, like the one that guides the Israelites in the desert of Sinai.

"Here we go again. Saving kids." Trajan simply mumbled to himself as he stuffed everything he had bought into his pockets and broke into a run towards the fiery outburst right in the middle of everything.

Once he reached the location of the pillar, Trajan took hold of another of the extinguishers and shot Alan with it as well. He would then speak through the telepathic channel that Maria had set up. "I'll go ahead and carry him once he's drained. If you don't mind."

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Klein Harris

The Galactic Bazaar

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"Keep calm and stand by, Klein. If they get too close, deal with them, but not a second earlier." She communicated to Klein.

"Okay, then." As the others fired the extinguishers at Alan's fiery outburst and himself, Klein kept guard, watching the movements of the Bazaar security in their gunships and whatnot. He could already see their worst nightmares, and it would take only a little nudge to summon these dark creatures from the underworld, but as Maria, now was not the time. There was no need to exacerbate an already deteriorating situation, but if those men and women did get too close, the first thing they'll see and feel would be the hulking monsters straight of their worst nightmares. Then, darkness might envelope their visions.

But again, with Nero running around with one of their ships, their attention might just be preoccupied at the moment.Q

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

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Finbarr Callaghan

The Galactic Bazaar

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Narvia remembered one thing before they genuinely get down with shopping. ” Um, Finbarr, do you have anything you want to buy? While we are shopping.” Narvia said with a curious look on her face. She did want to know what he was going to shop for since she had something to buy for him. It is a fun thing to deal with, wondering what the other person will buy while at the Galactic Bazaar.

"I'm not even sure what I want to buy at the moment..." Finbarr smirked in response to Narvia'scquestion. "Maybe some beef and tomato paste for me to make some kind of broth out of. Heh. Or whiskey."

Finbarr chuckled lightly at that one, tapping at her shoulder to wave away any worries she would have about that particular thing. "Ah, don't worry about it. I'll wait till I'm old enough. At the moment, I suppose I'll be wanting to-"

"There's a Pillar of Fire in Sector North! One of us is at fault! Help us put it out and then flee the Bazaar at once - Security will not look kindly on what we're going to do!"

"Ruddy bloody hell, here we go again." Finbarr shook his head and rolled his eyes at the apparent commotion that Alan had quite literally sparked right in the middle of the Galactic Bazaar. "Why can't we have nice things?! Damn it. Narvia, looks like we gotta go."

And now, they will go to the rendezvous with Ashton, Flame, and the others; it looks like that they will have another operation today. And in his head, Finbarr is calling it 'Operation Fire Extinguisher'. After all, that's what they need to do.

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Klein Harris

The Galactic Bazaar

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"Oohhhhh, SHHIIIIIIII-" Was all he could say as all the built-up energy suddenly burst forth from his hands and mouth, creating a giant pillar of white flames shooting towards the top of the dome, tall enough to where just about everyone in the Bazaar could see it, and all of the civilians began look in awe and dread. The civilians around Alan, Klein, and Maria in particular now running away in panic. The Bazaar's Security department and law enforcers saw what happened and were effectively on the move towards the source.

The sudden fiery outburst caused Klein to recoil in fear of being singed, and topple he did. He fell backwards onto the floor, shielding his eyes with his long spindly arms as a pillar of flame erupted in the middle of everything. He adjusted his glasses, and gaped at just how big the pillar of flame was. If anything, it was like a little volcanic eruption.

"What the hell did you eat?" Klein demanded, getting up from the floor with a bit of effort. "Mana infused burgers?"

Why were they going to flee again? Because Bazaar Security in gunships and old-fashioned ground vehicles (which were cheaper and less vulnerable to counterattack than hovering speeders), was already flying towards Alan and the pillar of fire, saying, "Attention! Attention! You kids are under arrest for Suspected Terrorism and Unauthorized Magic Use!"

"Do you want me to do something about that?" Klein asked Alan. Maria could sense his mind drifting towards the dark thoughts of his own shadowy magic, specifically the contemplation to send forth nightmares of the people around. Klein didn't do anything, though, not yet at least.

"This is bad, this is bad!" Klein grumbled lowly, readying to summon the nightmare creatures out of the worst dreams out of the civilians. They're going to be under arrest, anyway, so trying to negotiate would be useless. Would the security people even believe anything they say?