webboysurf

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

_{Volume 1: Revelations}

---

^{Chapter 1: Confessions}

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since I last confessed."

The confessional smelled of old sweat, rotting wood, and mothballs. It was dark, which was not unusual this late into the evening. Candlelight faintly gleamed in through some wooden slats on the doors leading out. The old priest who sat on the other side of the divider couldn't see the confessor through the shrouded mesh grate. "What troubles you, my son?"

The response was immediate. "I hurt people this week."

"Well, that is part of being in relation with other-"

"I beat them."

The silence was deafening. Matt could hear the priest shift uncomfortably in his seat. His heartrate began to sky-rocket. The smell of sweat was more potent. "You... assaulted people?"

"The cops aren't doing anything to stop it. When they do, charges aren't sticking. Abusers go back home to their wives, gangs are still flooding the alleys... I had to do something."

Realization. Fear. Adrenaline. "You're... you're telling me you're..."

"I tried everything, father. The last thing I wanted to feed that anger, that evil... but the system failed. So I'm doing things my way."

"You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen..."

"I am. And I am sorry, father, for what I must do."

♦♦♦

"Confess."

The bloodied man's sobs were overwhelming. He blubbered and wailed, occasionally gurgling on blood in the process before he spit it onto the ground in front of him. The faint smell of urine and iron permeated the air. The drum of that man's heartbeat rang in Matt Murdock's ears as blood dripped from his bruised knuckles. He reached forward, grabbing the man by his hair as he dragged him across the alleyway. The remnants of hair gel clung to his fingers. The man tried to claw at the ground, but he was too disoriented to find any purchase.

"You know what you did. Say it!"

The man drooled into the curb his face rested on, blood and saliva running together. He closed his eyes, trying to focus through the pain and delirium. "I... I don't know what you're-"

Matthew Murdock lifted his foot and smashed it down onto the man's head. The sound of teeth shattering rang in his ears like church bells. The howl of pain that erupted from the man in response echoed in the alley. Matt could hear the jingling of metal rushing his way... the fabric they brushed against sounded familiar.

A cop.

Matt looked back to the man, pushing him over with his foot. His face was covered with a white bandana, hiding his hair and eyes. He wore an old running outfit: black running pants, a black longsleeve, and gloves. His boots were now slick with his target's blood, smearing it into the pavement. "You're going to tell them what you did. You're going to plead guilty and not take a deal."

The man sputtered in confusion. "Wh... what?"

"You're going to tell the officer what you do to your wife. Do you want to know why?"

The man's cry was muffled as he buried his face in his hands. It sounded faintly like a question.

"You're safe in prison, because I'm out here."

The cop rounded the corner, finding it empty. Empty except for a battered young man who was wailing in pain. The officer took a deep breath, reaching up for the walkie mounted to her shoulder. "Dispatch... we've got another one."

Static came through the walkie for a moment, before a voice cut through the interference. "Another what? Over."

The cop sighed, pressing the button again. "Another damn vigilante."

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

I was forced against my will to use that villain

@Sep

Sure you were.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

@webboysurf is our Daredevil

@Master Bruce

Nelson and Murdock is open for business... can't wait for all the legal requests to roll in.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Let Him Out

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

D A R E D E V I L

---

^{"You can tell your boss the devil is coming..."}

^{_{M A T T H E W M U R D O C K ♦ L A W Y E R ♦ N Y C}}

O R I G I N S:

---

Matthew Murdock is an enigma. The son of a former boxer who died mysteriously when he was young, and a victim of a chemical spill that left him blind... he thought he was cursed. You know the story. He was an orphan for a time, raised by Catholic nuns who tried to teach him the straight and narrow. Trained under a mysterious man named Stick, and turned into a weapon... only to be abandoned yet again. A recent graduate from Columbia, and a surprising member of their gymnastics team. He had a number of offers from prestigious law firms lined up for him, but he opted to start a practice in Hell's Kitchen with his college roommate, Foggy Nelson.

The practice is only a year old, and Nelson and Murdock have already had a number of clients recently that they just can't seem to help. Vandalism, break-ins, and anonymous threats have been given to the residents and store owners 45th Street. With a lack of evidence, there is little the police is willing to do. This appears to be happening all over Hell's Kitchen. Someone is driving the good people of Hell's Kitchen out, and the Justice system is ill-equipped to deal with the anonymous harassment.

Matt, in response to recent strange news reports detailing masked men and women, has opted to follow in their footsteps to bring his community justice and answers. He doesn't don a fancy costume or neat gadgets, opting instead to wrap his fists and cover his hair and eyes. But the criminals and shadowy figures operating in the fringes of Hell's Kitchen are starting to hear rumors. The Devil doesn't wear horns, and doesn't fight with a pitchfork. The Devil is a flash of white in the night, and he sees you before you see him.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back in the old office chair. The soft footfalls on the old carpet were like war drums in his head: confident, short stride, lead foot... Foggy. As the door opened, Matt was already closing the laptop lid and removing his earbuds.

"Just got off the phone with a Detective North... the good old boys in Blue are calling it a wash. No DNA or fingerprints, No CCTV in the area, no witnesses coming forward. No suspects-"

"No one to arrest, no one to sue for damages, and insurance will claim it's a scam." Matt spun the chair around, removing his red-tinted glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, a wave of anger boiling in his chest. "This is the third shop this has happened to in three weeks... nothing was stolen. How is this not a priority?"

"NYPD is too busy looking out for a big spider or something to focus on 'domestic disturbances.'" Foggy shook his head in disgust, his cheap windbreaker rubbing against itself from his movements. Matt always hated that jacket. He spun around in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I'm calling it a night. It's 7, my dad just got back from the hospital so my ma is having us all over for dinner. She specifically asked me to invite you, in case you-"

"Thank you, but not tonight, Foggy." Matt gave a weak smile, his expression darkening as he felt that well of anger rising like bile in his throat. His jaw clenched as he tried to keep it in. "It just doesn't feel like enough."

Foggy froze, his mouth agape as the wheels turned in his head. "We just have to wait and see... maybe hire a private investigator to keep an eye out, try and get some pictures... so long as they take seven bucks and a Bodega punch card as a down payment." Foggy smiled awkwardly, waiting for some kind of amused reaction from his friend. It never came. "Right... look, Matt... you should get some sleep. We'll regroup in the morning, see if we can work out a game plan."

Foggy gave Matt a soft smile before leaving the office, with Matt waiting until he could hear the front door to their shared office space close. Matt nimbly slid open his desk drawer, removing the set of blood stained clothes and bandana.

He couldn't do more.

But maybe the devil could.

♦♦♦

"A three on one doesn't seem very fair."

A lone man was backed into a corner by three young men sporting windbreakers, a large depiction of a dragon hand-embroidered on the back. They understood what he said, but the leader of them pulled a knife from his jacket pocket, making a show of flicking it open with a single motion. They were all surprisingly calm, the booze on their breath permeating like a stinking cloud. They had done this so many times it was just like going into the office. The lone man they had targeted reached up to tighten the white bandana that covered his red hair and blue eyes.

They deserve this.

Before they could even make the demand for money, Matt lunged forward and closed the distance with the assailant on the right. He didn't even have time to lift up his hands in defense before the sucker punch dislocated his jaw. Matt quickly rotated around, delivering a roundhouse kick behind him into the mugger with the knife. Matt smiled as he heard the wind get squeezed out of his lungs in an instant. Their heartrates had doubled in a second. The last mugger remaining scanned the ground wildly, before stumbling over himself to grab something off the ground.

The scraping sound resonated in Matt's head. Stone on stone... maybe cement? Too small, too light, with the way the man was raising it over his head.

A brick.

The mugger quickly swung the brick down towards Matt, who responded by simply leaning to the side, lifting one arm to catch the assailant's elbow. Matt reached up to grab the brick with his other hand, swiftly yanking it free. His own heartbeat thrummed in his ears. Blood rushed through his veins. He smacked the brick into his assailant's kneecap, a sickening crunch and a loud cry echoing through the alley. Matt left the man to roll in his misery, crying and blubbering. There was one still standing, who had managed to recover his knife but not his confidence. The mugger was shaking in his sneakers, holding the knife out before him like a ward against evil. Matt didn't look at him, instead facing the man he had just brutally injured.

"11th and 45th."

The mugger's heartbeat was quick, but it didn't beat any faster or slower. No reaction, other than a slight intake of air. Confusion. He didn't know.

"Who... what are you?" His accent wasn't particularly thick. He was from here.

He should know better.

"The Devil."

S U P P O R T I N G C A S T:

---

• The Enforcers
• The Owl
• Foggy Nelson
• Karen Page
• Turk Barret
• Frank Farnum
• Cole North
  
  Wish List:
• The Eraser
• Vigilante (Adrian Chase / Alan Welles)
• Blockbuster (Roland Desmond)

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Let Him Out

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

D A R E D E V I L

---

^{"You can tell your boss the devil is coming..."}

^{_{M A T T H E W M U R D O C K ♦ L A W Y E R ♦ N Y C}}

O R I G I N S:

---

Matthew Murdock is an enigma. The son of a former boxer who died mysteriously when he was young, and a victim of a chemical spill that left him blind... he thought he was cursed. You know the story. He was an orphan for a time, raised by Catholic nuns who tried to teach him the straight and narrow. Trained under a mysterious man named Stick, and turned into a weapon... only to be abandoned yet again. A recent graduate from Columbia, and a surprising member of their gymnastics team. He had a number of offers from prestigious law firms lined up for him, but he opted to start a practice in Hell's Kitchen with his college roommate, Foggy Nelson.

The practice is only a year old, and Nelson and Murdock have already had a number of clients recently that they just can't seem to help. Vandalism, break-ins, and anonymous threats have been given to the residents and store owners 45th Street. With a lack of evidence, there is little the police is willing to do. This appears to be happening all over Hell's Kitchen. Someone is driving the good people of Hell's Kitchen out, and the Justice system is ill-equipped to deal with the anonymous harassment.

Matt, in response to recent strange news reports detailing masked men and women, has opted to follow in their footsteps to bring his community justice and answers. He doesn't don a fancy costume or neat gadgets, opting instead to wrap his fists and cover his hair and eyes. But the criminals and shadowy figures operating in the fringes of Hell's Kitchen are starting to hear rumors. The Devil doesn't wear horns, and doesn't fight with a pitchfork. The Devil is a flash of white in the night, and he sees you before you see him.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back in the old office chair. The soft footfalls on the old carpet were like war drums in his head: confident, short stride, lead foot... Foggy. As the door opened, Matt was already closing the laptop lid and removing his earbuds.

"Just got off the phone with a Detective North... the good old boys in Blue are calling it a wash. No DNA or fingerprints, No CCTV in the area, no witnesses coming forward. No suspects-"

"No one to arrest, no one to sue for damages, and insurance will claim it's a scam." Matt spun the chair around, removing his red-tinted glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, a wave of anger boiling in his chest. "This is the third shop this has happened to in three weeks... nothing was stolen. How is this not a priority?"

"NYPD is too busy looking out for a big spider or something to focus on 'domestic disturbances.'" Foggy shook his head in disgust, his cheap windbreaker rubbing against itself from his movements. Matt always hated that jacket. He spun around in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I'm calling it a night. It's 7, my dad just got back from the hospital so my ma is having us all over for dinner. She specifically asked me to invite you, in case you-"

"Thank you, but not tonight, Foggy." Matt gave a weak smile, his expression darkening as he felt that well of anger rising like bile in his throat. His jaw clenched as he tried to keep it in. "It just doesn't feel like enough."

Foggy froze, his mouth agape as the wheels turned in his head. "We just have to wait and see... maybe hire a private investigator to keep an eye out, try and get some pictures... so long as they take seven bucks and a Bodega punch card as a down payment." Foggy smiled awkwardly, waiting for some kind of amused reaction from his friend. It never came. "Right... look, Matt... you should get some sleep. We'll regroup in the morning, see if we can work out a game plan."

Foggy gave Matt a soft smile before leaving the office, with Matt waiting until he could hear the front door to their shared office space close. Matt nimbly slid open his desk drawer, removing the set of blood stained clothes and bandana.

He couldn't do more.

But maybe the devil could.

♦♦♦

"A three on one doesn't seem very fair."

A lone man was backed into a corner by three young men sporting windbreakers, a large depiction of a dragon hand-embroidered on the back. They understood what he said, but the leader of them pulled a knife from his jacket pocket, making a show of flicking it open with a single motion. They were all surprisingly calm, the booze on their breath permeating like a stinking cloud. They had done this so many times it was just like going into the office. The lone man they had targeted reached up to tighten the white bandana that covered his red hair and blue eyes.

They deserve this.

Before they could even make the demand for money, Matt lunged forward and closed the distance with the assailant on the right. He didn't even have time to lift up his hands in defense before the sucker punch dislocated his jaw. Matt quickly rotated around, delivering a roundhouse kick behind him into the mugger with the knife. Matt smiled as he heard the wind get squeezed out of his lungs in an instant. Their heartrates had doubled in a second. The last mugger remaining scanned the ground wildly, before stumbling over himself to grab something off the ground.

The scraping sound resonated in Matt's head. Stone on stone... maybe cement? Too small, too light, with the way the man was raising it over his head.

A brick.

The mugger quickly swung the brick down towards Matt, who responded by simply leaning to the side, lifting one arm to catch the assailant's elbow. Matt reached up to grab the brick with his other hand, swiftly yanking it free. His own heartbeat thrummed in his ears. Blood rushed through his veins. He smacked the brick into his assailant's kneecap, a sickening crunch and a loud cry echoing through the alley. Matt left the man to roll in his misery, crying and blubbering. There was one still standing, who had managed to recover his knife but not his confidence. The mugger was shaking in his sneakers, holding the knife out before him like a ward against evil. Matt didn't look at him, instead facing the man he had just brutally injured.

"11th and 45th."

The mugger's heartbeat was quick, but it didn't beat any faster or slower. No reaction, other than a slight intake of air. Confusion. He didn't know.

"Who... what are you?" His accent wasn't particularly thick. He was from here.

He should know better.

"The Devil."

S U P P O R T I N G C A S T:

---

• The Enforcers
• The Owl
• Foggy Nelson
• Karen Page
• Turk Barret
• Frank Farnum
• Cole North
  
  Wish List:
• The Eraser
• Vigilante (Adrian Chase / Alan Welles)
• Blockbuster (Roland Desmond)

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.

Marvel & DC: Emergence (Canon RP)

A tease at what I'm cooking up

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Escape Room from Hell, Academic Quadrangle, P.R.C.U. Campus}

Take on Me #3.065: I Just Want to Save You

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Haven @Skai}

Previously: In Too Deep & Wet Feathers

The only good thing about nearly drowning in shitty, disgusting water was that it all muffled the sound of a body being crunched under concrete. Not that there were many things good about the world crumbling around Rory. More corpses, cracking architecture, electrical lines, and a sinking floor... he had better days. He had managed to fall on his ass again, and watched as a gurney began sliding through the rushing water his direction. He blinked, steadying his vision and focus. He'd recognize those wings anywhere. He moved in its direction, but the waves and unsteady flooring kept fumbling his movements. It crashed into the wall, eliciting a small unintelligible cry from Rory.

Of course, the water seemed to surge a little behind him. He heard noise coming from the hallway, past the door. It could be help. It could be a trap. He didn't care. He scrambled through the water towards the gurney, vision blurred from water clinging to his eyelashes. As stone fell from above, Rory braced himself and kept moving. Every shift, every change in environment, was but a momentary obstacle in his path. Loose debris and old medical equipment battered his skin and tore through his clothes, but he hardly seemed to notice. He only stopped when he heard the doorway into the room seem to crumble and collapse, along with a major shift in the water levels. He turned back, wiping droplets from his eyes, to see Amma and Jim enter into the room. The familiar tendrils of Amma's destructive power coursed through the waves. Rory braced himself up against the wall, the sensation of her powers decimating the water molecules around him unnerving to say the least. The sudden change in pressure caused him to lose his balance, catching himself at the last moment. His eyes met the dragon but briefly, his expression grateful.

She upheld her part. He needed to uphold his.

Rory turned his gaze back towards the gurney, rushing to Haven's side and immediately giving a quick scan. Her eyes were open. She was awake. He opted to quickly move his hands to the leather restraints, fiddling with the buckles as his panicked questions poured out of his mouth. "Fuck, fuck... Haven, Haven, are you ok? Did they hurt you? They didn't hurt your wings, did they? Are you awake? Can you walk? We're going to get you out of here. I've got you." His hands shook as they worked the restraints, wildly flinging the straps out of his way once they were clear.

The sound of heavy footsteps nearby wrenched Haven’s momentary relief from her. She flinched where she laid on the gurney, fully expecting to see Daedalus as she turned her head towards the presence beside her. Fear and pain melted into shock as she quickly looked Rory over, as if she couldn’t believe he was standing next to her. Her eyebrows bunched together, and then rose as her relief returned to her.

Each strap undone from her body felt like a fresh breath of air. Her eyes followed him as he moved, tears beginning to slide down her temples. With her wrists freed first, Haven hastily moved her heavy arms to claw at the back of her head. She tugged at the strap that held the gag in place, eager to remove the rubber from her mouth . She tried to remain patient as Rory began to work on the leather that held her wings but her frustration soon boiled over as more tears ran down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands as she laid her head back against the table once more. So many emotions were passing through her at once. It took all of her will not to break down as she waited to be freed of the horrid gurney beneath her.

Rory's heart broke at her reactions, his jaw clenched tight as he did his best to compose his emotions. He had work to do. He took only a moment to breathe, steadying his hands. He had to focus. He quickly released the remaining straps with a fervor. Once they were freed, he immediately lifted his hands up to touch the sides of Haven's face. ”I'm here… but we need to leave, ok? We don't have much time.”

Haven removed her hands from her face as she felt Rory get to work on the gag. She first took a deep breath as her jaw was finally allowed to relax, and then she worked her jaw around as she tried to relieve it of the feeling. His touch against her cheeks grounded her, keeping her emotions from taking control. She looked into those clear blue eyes and found momentary strength within them. He was here. She was safe with him, no matter what circumstance they were stuck in now. She gave him a small nod before she sniffed as she tried to compose herself too. She’d have all the time she needed to cry and scream and rage once they escaped.

“I still have my wings,” Her voice was quiet, her throat and mouth dry and sore, but she wanted him to know. “I’m okay.” She looked between his eyes once more before she took one of his hands into her own. She used her other to slowly push herself up from the table. Her body ached with each movement, her wings once again feeling like dead weight along her back, but she eventually swung her legs over the side of the gurney. Her feet, wearing only the socks she’d fallen asleep in, barely grazed the slanted concrete floor.

She didn’t waste a moment as she slid off the side. Her balance wavered as she placed her weight onto her legs, arms reaching to Rory as she tried to stay upright. “Why?” Haven asked, her eyes searching the debris that gathered along the wall beside them as she tried to figure out how the room had come to be this way. The bottom of her socks were becoming wet from the still damp floor. She thought about her wet wings, and the cold sensation that she’d felt. None of it made sense.

”I… I don't know. Just watch your step.” Rory swung his shoulder under Haven's arms, giving her something to lean on as he took a cautionary step forward. The ground felt unstable, and he knew he didn't have a lot of time left with his vision. He just had to make it to the stairs. He called out. ”I've got her… let's go!”

Marvel & DC: Emergence (Canon RP)

I thought I was done...

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Academic Quadrangle, P.R.C.U. Campus - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Take on Me #3.061: In Too Deep

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Harper @Qia, Katja @Zoldyck}

Previously: Say Your Prayers

Rory felt his heart race as he stared into the abyss. Compounding fear around Haven's fate and suspicion of Katja swarmed in his stomach. In that moment of hesitation as they stood in front of the door, Rory's eyes briefly glanced towards Katja. Unless she had been invited to secret campus raves he hadn't heard about... he was unable to come up with an explanation for why she would know this place. When Katja volunteered to go first, he had no objections. If they were walking into a trap, Katja could take it. If she was the trap... he'd rather her be in front of him than behind. He knew how fast she could take him out of she really wanted to, and he'd take every advantage he could.

Rory gave Harper a quick look, eyebrows raised with a nod in Katja's direction when her back was turned to them. He didn't want to risk whispering, and he didn't have enough time to explain. He was just banking on the resident smartass to be able to pick up that he didn't feel quite right about their resident tank, in the event something did happen. Out of those gathered, Harper was the only one he was confident would be able to come up with a clever solution. Or, god-forbid, find him if he went missing next.

Haven would know what he meant.

Rory's fists clenched as he stared down the abyss. They were walking into the lion's den. He slung his duffel bag off his shoulder, tossing it at the side of the entrance. He considered bringing the bat... but odds were his hands were going to be full helping Haven out of this mess. He had Blackjack at his back. If things went south he could borrow their strengths. Hopefully that would be enough. He took a step towards Harper, taking a breath as he focused his efforts on sensing the field of energy around them. It was always easier with somatics, isolating the HZE ions just enough to borrow the right one. The transformation was quick, and he made sure to keep his eyes closed as he felt the odd sensation in his skull. The pressure behind the eyes would be excruciating if it weren't for the numbness of his nervous system. When he opened his eyes, he squinted a little. It took him a moment of blinking to remember how to switch between the different types of vision, grunting when he accidentally shifted to night vision while looking towards the sky. Once he had his vision back, he stepped into the spooky stairwell.

She had to be there. She had to be ok.

Nightvision made watching his step far easier in the low-light. It also helped him to settle on firm footing when the world around him shook. He immediately crouched low, rocking his weight backwards a little to prevent himself from toppling forward. Most of the quaking shot him into the wall, which proved a less than pleasant sensation. He fared better than Katja, however. It took him a moment to recognize the sound. It sounded a bit like something falling... but that wouldn't...

Explosions.

Katja called out from the bottom, lighting up a flashlight. “I’m fine! “Coast seems clear, there’s nothing here that seems out of the ordinary-”

Rory took the remaining stairs two at a time, practically tripping his way down the remaining steps. As he reached the bottom, his foot splashed into water. He looked about, his vision catching reflections of light in the ground. That didn't seem right... this wasn't a natural cave, this was a hallway. It took his eyes a second to process that it wasn't just standing water... the water was moving. “Guys! Unless any of you can breathe underwater, we’re gonna have to hurry!”

Rory looked up in the direction Katja was looking, and quickly slipped past her. His feet splashed with every step, his running shoes and socks soaked through in seconds. That didn't stop him as he charged through the water as it began to reach his ankles, and then his shins. He didn't care about being cautious anymore. This place was flooding... and if Haven was still here, it meant she didn't have much time left. Rory rushed his way down the hallway towards the closed door, water rushing through the cracks between it and the door-frame.

Rory dipped his shoulder towards the door-handle, tilting his head away from the impact as he dived forward. Wood splintered and cracked, groaning as it was forced between rushing water and over 200 lbs of athlete. It cracked open part-way, enough for Rory to stumble through before slamming shut behind him. Rory didn't bother looking back, accidentally catching a mouthful of grimy water as he scrambled to his feet. He spat and spluttered, his eyes looking around wildly. The ceiling looked like it had already been water damaged for quite some time, though more fresh cracks and fissures in the ceiling poured water into the rapidly filling room. It was nearing his knees by the time he managed to get a better sense of where he was and what was happening, the sound of his teammates splashing down the hallway behind him.

A couple small objects brushed up against his legs as he took a step forward. His looked down, catching a glimpse of what appeared to be bottle caps. He watched them ride the currents of water past him, before he felt something much large and more firm slam into his knee. He fell as his leg buckled, water rushing up over him and into his face. Rory instinctively lifted his arm to try and block the water from getting into his eyes and mouth. When he looked up at what had hit him, he felt his stomach lurch at the sight. Blood still oozed from a hole in the head of the deranged, smiling corpse.

Rory screamed, panic and fear radiating out as he blinked to switch to thermal vision. He scrambled back up to his feet, fighting the waves and corpses flowing in his direction, as he desperately scanned the room.

"No, no no... HAVEN!"

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Canis Dorms, P.R.C.U. Campus - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Take on Me #3.052: Say Your Prayers

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Amma @Rockette}

Previously: Anywhere, Whenever

Rory’s eyes locked on Amma, the world seeming dull and muted as all he could see were the recordings playing back in his mind. Amma’s cryptic conversation with Haven, the sight of what she had done to save her… and the sight of her power rolling through Haven’s wings. The two that arrived there to help were two of the last people Rory wanted to involve. When his eyes turned to Katja, he instantly looked away. The last time he saw her, she was covered in blood and viscera. It was so easy for the two of them to kill… and now he was dragging Harper into a mess with them.

“Thank you… Amma, But Haven isn’t just another statistic.”

"No, no, she won't. I made a promise I would never let someone suffer what I have. To become..." There was a pause in her words, as red tendrils of power radiated from her form.

"The world has enough monsters."

”Glad you’re here… just waiting on the rest of the team.”

A small exhale left Rory’s lips. After everything, nothing had changed. Same speech, same act. The forced, weak smile on his lips showed gratitude. It disgusted him to twist his face like that. He took a few steps towards Amma on their approach, making sure to keep Amma between himself and Katja. He got close, enough that that sickening feeling of her field of influence crawled over his skin. His faint scars itched with familiarity.

While his smile remained, his whispered words were slick with disdain as he leaned in close. _{”I trust you’ll be good to your word… she reminds you of someone, after all.”} He paused for a fraction of a second, just long enough to let any semblance of recognition slip in. <sub>”If your powers touch Haven again… or you threaten her, I’ll finish what we started in the Trials.”

“Yeah?”</sub> Amma breathed, a whisper punctured through her words donned in a warning, a manifest of the creature that recognized the man before her, leaned in close as she canted her head and dropped her lashes against the sudden glow captured in her eyes. <sub>“Don't forget it was I that saved her while you were running around in a mask.”

“Twice.”</sub>

The fake smile remained plastered on his face as he leaned back, looking down at Amma. It failed to reach his eyes. He lifted a hand, placing it on her shoulder and giving a small squeeze. Anger ran through his veins like ice, but she was right. He took a breath, and gave a small nod. _{”I saw.”} He looked down at the marks on his arms, before slowly removing his hand from her shoulder. The smile on his face slipped away. Ego tripping, threats... those weren't him. Those were...

Rory clutched at the strap of his bag. This wasn't the time for this. _{”I made her a promise. And I need help keeping it.”}

Something visibly coiled through Amma at his words, something unmarked and unnamed that writhed against the hand clasped over her shoulder whilst she swept her gaze up to meet his frigid glare that marked her on the spot for everything that went unsaid between them. Her fingers splayed and cracked, nails marked into her palms as a shuddering breath swept through her lungs and inflated on a trembling inhale from her fury bristling in response. Amma exhaled on a nod, reigning in the rage, clamping down on the red that angrily sluiced away beneath her skin and thrummed down her back liken to a serpent tongue that flicked away at her spine.

_{“I'll make sure you're able to keep that promise. Just like mine.”}

Rory gave a nod, the exhaustion on his face evident as he turned away, walking away a few paces. He folded his arms over his chest, his nails digging into his skin as he desperately tried to keep everything in. She was right. No matter all his big talk… he was right there. He should have woken up. He should have locked the window. He should have known they would come. He should have done something, anything, to save her. And now… he was just tagging along. He readjusted the strap of his duffle bag, just to give his hands something to do as he buried his anger and frustration down deeper and deeper. Amma knew he was useless here. Harper wasn't at 100% and was still doing more than he had. Katja would break down doors and walls all on her own until she found her. Rory couldn't do anything but follow their lead.

Haven needed the team.