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Sylas La femme semblait essayer de bloquer le marteau, un geste insensé. Mais à la surprise de Sylas elle a été lancée hors de la voie du mal plutôt que écrasée sous son attaque. Elle avait fait quelque chose d'intelligent avec son épée, mais même alors le pouvoir derrière l'attaque ne lui a pas permis d'atterrir facilement ou en douceur. Le lieutenant s'était posé sur son côté et s'était arrêté, tandis que le marteau était à nouveau brisé. « Une escroquerie », se mit à murmurer alors qu'il commençait à se remettre de l'attaque en se tenant debout. Mais avant qu'il ne puisse le taquiner et tirer à nouveau son pistolet. L'ex-capitaine, qui exhibait une vitesse et des réflexes étonnés, sauta de son côté à droite en tirant. La balle l'a de nouveau dépassé, confirmant que la première fois qu'elle avait manqué n'était pas un accident du moins. "Une stratégie intelligente," Sylas a recommencé, jetant la poignée de verre à la femme paresseuse. Même s'il l'a frappée, il n'y avait pas de force réelle derrière elle pour causer des dommages; il serait probablement juste casser une fois qu'il a touché le sol. "Gardez mon attaque et contre-attaque avant que je puisse récupérer complètement. Une technique plus facile à dire qu'à faire. Si vous aviez combattu un ennemi moindre, vous auriez réussi." Sa main droite s'est déplacée vers son front, poussant de façon spectaculaire ses cheveux en arrière alors qu'il frappa une pose avec sa main gauche pointant vers Hanna. "Mais tu ne me battras pas avec des tours comme ça. Aucun Marine ne peut m'arrêter. Ni pirate ni bête ne peuvent. Je suis Shattering Sylas! Conquérant du Bleu de l'Ouest! J'ai survécu à la guerre, à la mutinerie et à des milliers de câlins! Votre équipage sera juste un autre cran dans ma ceinture." Sa main sur la tête s'est déplacée et il a abandonné sa pose dramatique, regagnant une position de combat alors qu'il dirigeait ses deux mains vers le lieutenant. "Hari Hari pas d'ancre!" Le verre a commencé à se développer sous les pieds de Sylas, se développant rapidement en ligne directe vers Hanna. Une fois que le verre était sous ses pieds, il poussait vers le haut, se déplaçant pour attraper ses jambes et l'empêcher de bouger. Pendant que cette technique de piégeage se développait, Sylas a apporté ses mains à ses côtés. "Hari Hari, pas de Saber!" Deux sabres de verre ont grandi de ses paumes et il les a serrés chacun alors qu'il se précipitait à nouveau sur le lieutenant. Bien qu'il coure sur le verre lisse, il semblait le moins inhibé. "Mon histoire est loin d'être terminée. Ça ne fait que commencer!" Bien que clairement pas un expert avec des épées, Sylas sauta vers Hanna dans un tour, en ayant l'intention de la frapper plusieurs fois et d'utiliser la force pure pour la vaincre plutôt que de l'habileté ou de la tactique.

Name: "Shattering" Sylas Maison Height/Weight: 6'0" (182cm) / 170lbs (77.1kg) Age: 20 Personality: Eccentric and emotional, Sylas is known for being an overly melodramatic fellow. Prone to telling tale tales of grand feats he may or may not have ever accomplished, his flair for drama is second-to-none. He always strives to be interesting and unique, making it easy to spot him in a crowd by looks and sound alone. He is often written off as crazy by those that meet him, especially after they see what he is capable of. Sylas is as impulsive as they come, and accordingly unpredictable. He always strives to amaze those around him with feats of power or compassion, to be recognized as a man worthy of legend. At the very least his wierdness is legendary, but getting that point across to Sylas is impossible. Nobody looks up to Sylas more than Sylas himself. He is infallible in his own eyes and he won't stop until everyone else sees him that way too. Home Island/Sea: West Blue History: Born to Captain Ismael Maison of the Firefly Pirates, Sylas was immersed in the world of swashbuckling from a very young age. Though the Firefly Pirates and consequently Captain Ismael were nothing impressive that didn't stop the enigmatic leader to present grandiose tales to his son. Enamored with his unrealistic and romaticized view of piracy, young Sylas aimed to follow the footsteps of his father and become a legend (despite the fact his father's name was unheard of outside the West Blue). He spent his entire life on board the Firefly's ship, Chain Breaker, training to take the reigns from his father one day as the captain of the crew. When Sylas was fourteen he encountered the Hari Hari no Mi. And encountered is the correct word, as he saw the fruit on board an enemy ship while the crew was raiding it. Being he was hungry at the time he ate it without a second thought. It was only after Ismael questioned where the Devil Fruit was that it was realized Sylas had eaten it. This temporarily put a damper on crew relations, but it was found that Sylas was an even greater asset to the crew now. He was no longer just the captain's kid but now a useful member. Granted his odd personality didn't make him exactly likable. He trained to use his new abilities to the max, believing that they would be key to his future legends. Over time he became the powerhouse of the Firefly Pirates, surpassing anyone else on board by leagues. At nineteen his father finally grew ill and passed away (likely scurvy), leaving Sylas in charge of the Firefly Pirates rather than the more popular first mate, Hopper. Taking it to heart, Sylas immediately declared they would head to the Grand Line. As they made their way across the West Blue, slowly but surely, the crew grew dissatisfied with Sylas's style of leadership. They no longer pillaged towns or raided islands, instead marauding only other pirate crews. After three months they couldn't take it any longer. Following an overly-eccentric twentieth birthday party for Sylas, the crew immediately mutinied. Led by the former first mate, the mutiny forced Sylas to walk the plank. As a Devil Fruit user, this surely meant he would die. But quick thinking and the Hari Hari no Mi powers allowed him to create a small boat. Using his incredible strength and a single paddle, Sylas escaped his former comrades by fleeing towards a nearby island. Or so he thought. His sense of navigation wasn't very spot on and instead Sylas had traversed into the nearby Calm Belt. In a feat of fear-fueled stamina, Sylas managed to paddle his way across the calm belt and onto the Grand Line. With no food or water, Sylas found himself close to death before spotting Reverse Mountain and the Town of Contradiction. After arriving at the port he was given some food and water by sympathetic locals. It took only a day to recover his strength, in which Sylas was immediately indebted and forced to work off the bills for the food he had eaten. This brings us to today, two days after Sylas had arrived at the Town of Contradiction... Fruit: Known as the Glass-Glass Fruit, it is a Paramecia type Devil Fruit that grants the user the ability to create glass at a rapid pace and to manipulate existing glass under certain conditions. Notably not Logia class as users cannot turn themselves into glass nor are they invulnerable to physical attacks. The glass created by a Hari Hari no Mi user can have various properties as determined at the time of creation, though for existing glass to be manipulated it must be untempered and have no stain. The glass created can only ever be in a crystal, solid state though it may be structured to appear liquid. Liquid glass can also be manipulated, if pure and unstained, despite not being able to be produced by the user. The thicker the glass, the longer it takes to create. Glass can only be created from the user's body, but glass that is being manipulated has a much longer range. Most common uses of the Hari Hari no Mi are to create weapons or structures of glass, usually thick so as not to be broken easily. The fragile nature of thin glass makes it a great weapon for slicing even when broken, though thin glass is also useful for manipulating light. A skilled user can create illusions with cleverly manipulated glass and even a an unskilled user could reflect sunlight to blind foes. There are a wide range of possibilities with the Hari Hari no Mi, though it is not without weaknesses. Even the thickest glass is weaker than the equivalent thickness of steel, and due to the crystalline nature of untempered glass it is prone to fracture with ease if it is not made to be especially thick (and even then it is not on par with an identical weapon/structure made of metal). Due to the nature of Busoshoku Haki, Hari Hari no Mi glass of any thickness is shattered with ease if struck by it. Consequently, Busoshoku Haki can be imbued into the glass created if the user is adept with Haki, negating the Haki weakness to a degree. Fighting style: Sylas is a powerhouse, exhibiting incredible strength and the capability to wield absurdly large weapons of his own creation. Though agile in his own right he will stick to his greatest strength: strength. Sylas primarily fights using glass weapons, such as hammers and swords, but his style is just as versatile as his Devil Fruit. Though he is capable of fighting without his Devil Fruit powers, he does lack martial art skills and has to rely on pure physical capability to get by. Sylas is capable of using Busoshoku (Arms) and Kenbunshoku (Observation) Haki to certain degrees, though he reserves this ability. Hari Hari no Hammerfall Sylas creates an absurdly large hammer of glass, over twice his own size, and swings it down with enough force to annihilate the hammer and usually most anything in its path. This can be considered his signature technique and has attributed to his epithet, for the shattering hammer. This technique can be used alternatively, to allow extended use of the hammer by not immediately smashing it. Hari Hari no Great Hammerfall An enlarged version of his signature technique. Sylas creates an even more absurdly large hammer, this time large enough smash an entire building or even a ship. Notably takes more time to create the weapon and it is much more unwieldy in his hands. Only ever good for one attack. Hari Hari no Saber A large glass sword is created. Though fragile and easy to break, it is incredibly sharp. When it is broken the shattered pieces are capable of causing further damage. Sylas can repair the blade in order to extend how long it can be useful. Hari Hari no Windmill Two meter-long, six-point throwing stars are created and flung at the enemy. Due to Sylas's ability to control the glass they will give chase and home in on the desired target until broken beyond use or they hit their mark. Much like the Saber they are incredibly sharp and breaking them still has a probability of taking damage. Hari Hari no Geyser An eruption of thick and spiky layers of glass form from Sylas's feet, stabbing foes and repelling attacks. Due to the thickness of the glass it is less sharp and not as likely to completely slice through opponents, but it is more resilient and can withstand stronger attacks as well as still being able to harm whoever was in the blast zone. Hari Hari no Anchor By creating a sheet of glass across the ground (or oceanwater, if out at sea) and underneath a foe (or opposing ship), Sylas can trap his enemy. Once the glass reaches underneath the enemy it will grow upwards to anchor them in place. For humanoid foes this only requires reaching up to the waist to completely halt their leg movement, and for ships at seat it simply requires getting completely underneath and surrounding it only by a few feet (which is more than enough to completely remove the ship from the water). Hari Hari no Mirror One of Sylas's weaker moves, as it does not usually fit his style and is thus not often used or practiced. Sylas creates a pane of glass, warped to just the right angle to reflect the brightest light source available (usually the sun) and project it in the direction of his enemy to temporarily blind them. Hari Hari no Mist Two balls of glass are created before being broken (throwing, crushing, smashing, doesn't matter), causing them to explode into many tiny shards of glass. Controlling the direction of the spray can create a painful diversion for his foes, potentially blinding them (the permanent kind of blind). Hari Hari no Laser Using a large, circular disk of glass, Sylas focus sunlight onto a specific point via refraction and magnification. This is used to cause fires on anything wooden, and only requires a few seconds of accurate aiming once the disk is properly aligned with the sun. *Note* Due to the versatile nature of the Hari Hari no Mi, there are many more possibilities of use other than those listed above. This list is to cite the most common and most notable techniques, though more may be added as Sylas expands his uses. Ship Positions: TBA (Former Captain of the Firefly Pirates) Bounty: 3,000,000 Berries

DYING NE RÉPONSE PAS D'UNE DETTE Seulement des hommes en perte de vie après que quelqu'un ait mis leurs vies à l'abri. Le grand homme s'occupait facilement des marines, comme on s'y attendait. Zell savait que son homme n'était pas un homme ordinaire en un seul regard sur lui, Zell lui-même senti une grande aura rayonnant de lui. Zell s'est rapidement déplacé entre les batailles et il a sorti quelques marines sans attirer beaucoup d'attention des autres marines. Les marines étaient concentrés sur ce grand homme connu sous le nom de Tristan. Zell en a profité et a frappé le reste par derrière. Cependant, une autre tempête s'approchait rapidement, cette fois c'était une grande dame marine aux cheveux jaunes dorés qui attirait tous les yeux sur elle. Cet homme était coincé par son coup de pied supérieur. Heureusement, Tristan lui-même ne devrait pas être pris à la légère et il a rapidement résisté à l'attaque. Zell a vu la scène, ses mains accrochent le katana plus serré alors qu'il démangeait pour sauter dans les batailles. Zell s'est griffé la tête alors qu'il était confus sur la façon dont il devrait faire une entrée dans ce chaos. Un sourire a pu être vu dès qu'il a eu la réponse à sa question. La dame marine avait une petite conversation avec Tristan, et n'a montré que plusieurs mouvements. Il semblait qu'ils essayaient tous les deux de se taquiner, espérant que l'un d'eux attaquerait d'abord. En un clin d'œil, Zell s'est précipité vers Tristan et la dame marine, Zell a élevé son katana à la ligne de taille et il s'est approché de la grande dame marine dans une assez grande vitesse. Alors qu'il atteignait une bonne distance, il leva son épée et l'enfonça vers le bas, essayant de frapper le bras de la femme marine avec son katana. La femme marine était assez grande, donc elle était un peu facile à viser à moins qu'elle ne bouge dans une vitesse incroyable. Si elle se déplaçait rapidement, Zell se précipiterait vers l'arrière et serait une grande distance entre eux. Zell s'est moqué : "Il semble que tu aies des problèmes avec elle. Je devrais vous apporter une grande aide." J'ai dit Zell à Tristan.

Name: Zell Narukami Height/Weight: 5'10", 180 lbs Age: 23 Personality: Zell is a man whose been instilled with values.He is someone who believes strongly in being able to forge his own path by his own two hands. He's not opposed to fighting to protect his beliefs. Even if he looses. He's never set in his ways though he is constantly adapting to the world around him letting the way of the world help shape, define and re-define him. But his core beliefs never change. Fight for what you believe in, think with your head not your heart, if it's something that burns strongly within follow it. And help out those in need. Zell's reaction to people is initially friendly, however if they prove that they are against him or act to hurt someone without any provocation then he grows to dislike them. He's a charismatic person, he could persuade someone to do something for him. His ambitions lead him to a great path, the path shows the true side of him. He often respects his enemies in battle, humiliating them on the battle isn't his style. He has two major quirks to his personality, one being that be believes that the strongest beliefs always win. Regardless of the medium through which they are conveyed be it words or fists. The second quirk is a simple one. Living for yourself is the same as living for nothing. Live for others, don't only focus on yourself. Home Island/Sea: East Blue History: Zell was born in a nice kingdom of Goa. Subject to his loving parents, and an overwhelming amount of caring relatives and neighbors, he wanted for nothing as a child. When he was four, he had to say goodbye to Goa Kingdom, and move with his parents back down to Loguetown. They settled on Loguetown, and his parents set a business there. Between working out in the town, and managing his peace projects, his father was a very busy man, but he still made all the time he could to spend playing with his son. When he became old enough, he would follow him around all day while he took care of problems that had arisen and managing different aspects of the town. He was walking around the town with his father, something caught his eyes, a muscular man was punching on trees. Zell approached the man, and asked all about the man's tasks. Zell eyes stared at the dents on the stem and the scratches, he asked that man if he could teach him about martial art someday. When Zell turned 13, he decided to help that man, his job was to collect the broken wood from the trees. Zell taught by the man on how to punch properly when he reached the age of 14, Zell took a special class on the evening. When he turned to 16, he was able to punch through a plank. But, only in a small scale. He spent his free time training more on his martial arts after his father said that he should be able to protect everyone in the family. Zell trained hard and also worked hard to gain more knowledge. His parents was happy to see Zell.One day when Zell was 14 years old, A pirate crew stopped at his village, and went to the bar, they talked about Devil Fruits they got when they were sailing around the island. Zell read about Devil Fruits once, and the power was scary, but with such power, he could protect his family easily. He went to their ships, some people stood on the ships, guarding it. Zell approached them, and asked about a devil fruit. With his curiosity and cute face, they showed him the devil fruit, Zell glared at it, and took it instantly. Without any hesitation, he jumped to the sea because it was the fastest route to escape. They were chasing Zell, but Zell ate the fruit, he felt something weird, suddenly, he couldn't swim, and he lost his energy. Unfortunately, the pirates swam, and caught him. The furious captain came, and asked him about the devil fruit. When Zell told them that he ate it, they were furious, and wanted to kill him, but a villager who knew Zell called for help, the other villagers gathered, and asked the pirates to leave Zell alone. They released Zell, and Zell began to run away. The pirates took their swords, and advanced toward the villagers, the villagers stood up for Zell. Fortunately, a marine ship sailed toward the island, the marine ship was quite far, but if the pirates caused some trouble here, the marine would stop here, and caught them. One of the pirate crew spotted it, they decided to return to their ships, and flee. Zell found out his ability when he was training on the courtyard, suddenly his hands turned into blades when he tried to attack a dummy. Zell trained himself on his backyard, at first, it was a fail, he can't control the power, but after a lot of training, and dedication, he managed to turn his limbs into blade whenever he wanted to. When he turned 18, after more than a decade and a half of listening to his father's stories of the sea, he decided he wanted to go sail the sea too, his father experienced the sea at a very young age, Zell's grandfather always brought his father to every journey, they sailed around East Blue, but not all lands in East Blue explored, his grandfather wrote a journals about his journey, before he died, and he gave the journals to Zell's father. At first, his parents was afraid with Zell's decision. Luckily, the man who taught him everything interfered, saying Zell was more than prepared to go on his own adventure. His father worried, but couldn't stop him from leaving. Zell was aiming to find huge amount of treasures. To find a lot of treasure, you must become a strong person, he wanted a fame so much, so, the world will know about him, he need to be the strongest pirate, so, he can conquer the world easily, and find a lot of treasures. Hopefully, he can achieve him with individuals called as Nakamas. Fruit: Supa Supa no Mi (Dice Dice Fruit) Fighting style: He wields a single katana but mainly goes on hand-to-hand combat. This style is enhanced by his Fruit Power, it allows him to turn his limbs into blades, this can inflict a piercing damage or cuts to the target upon contact so he doesn't afraid to attack someone with bare fist. As a result, his main focus is on his martial arts. He also might use his gifts in Haki, but currently, they are inactive inside him unless he train himself to unlock it. Ship Positions: Fighter Bounty: 0

Brenda agite sous le poids du boulet de canon, et est plus qu'heureux de laisser l'un des autres la prendre d'elle. "J'ai pensé que nous pourrions construire une catapulte et la jeter sur eux. Arrêtez-les de couler plus de navires." Elle explique, en pointant vers innombrables, et en ajoutant "Il peut viser." Bien sûr, le milieu d'une bataille n'est pas le moment de discuter en profondeur de la stratégie. Brenda peut faire sa part pour aider là aussi, comme elle saisit quelques briques de la taverne effondrée et saute au sommet d'un marine abattu. Au début, on dirait qu'elle est sur le point de le battre avec, mais plutôt Brenda crie "Mix-Mix Combine!" et soulève l'uniforme de la marine d'une main en ramenant la brique avec l'autre. Le malheureux soldat trouve ses bras retenus par une chemise en pierre soudainement solide, et Brenda se met à faire la même astuce sur plus de marines.

Name: Brenda Wirrit Appearance: Height/Weight: 5', 90lbs Age: 19 Personality: Happy, upbeat and infinitely curious, Brenda tries her best to see the bright side in any situation. She panics easily, but quickly regains a manic sort of composure. She's more likely to act before thinking and deal with the consequences. The common tongue is her second language, so she sometimes misunderstands. Home Island/Sea: Okidou Island, East Blue. An island with large forests of strong trees, chiefly exported for shipmaking. The island's inhabitants take care to the forests to ensure they plant more trees than they cut down, to ensure future livelihood. The people have their own language. History: Brenda grew up on Okidou Island watching the varieties of ship arrive to buy the islands wood, amazed that pieces of her homeland would travel so far. She always wanted to find out how the ships were made. When she was nine, a storm sunk a ship near Okidou's coast. The people all helped out with the rescue. Much of the cargo was lost under the sea, but Brenda rowed her home-made raft out, swam down and found a watertight box containing a devil fruit, which she ate back at her 'secret hideout', a beach hut she also made herself. Brenda loved her amazing new powers, but the folk back home weren't quite so happy. The captain of the sunken ship was especially displeased, as he intended to trade the fruit for a large supply of wood, to supply his shipyard. Regardless, something about the young girl's passion for carpentry appealed to him, so he made a deal with Brenda's father. She would come with him to work off the cost of the fruit, learning a shipwright's trade. Ten years later, Brenda has finished paying off the fruit (Which also happened to be the day her tutor decided she'd learned all he could teach) and set out to explore the oceans, see new styles of carpentry. While she was working at the shipyard, Brenda took plenty of photographs (Some kind of snail-based camera?) to write letters home, and as a farewell gift the master of the shipyard gave her an empty book, to fill with memories of her journey. Fruit: Maze-Maze no Mi, AKA the Mix-Mix Fruit. Paramecia Type. Brenda has the ability to turn herself and other objects into a putty-like substance by rpidly kneading it with her hands. They turn back if left alone, but while transformed it can be mixed with another liquid or transformed substance, to combine the two. She can also separate the objects again by reaching 'in' and pulling it out. Common uses for Brenda include mixing a wooden plank into glue, to get a substance that's sticky and applyable by brush but hardens into a solid wooden coating, mixing a hammer into her hand for an iron punch, or mixing cloth with a sheet of metal to easily shape it, then remove the cloth and end up with metal in the required shape. The chief limitations on the ability are that Brenda can only transform an object small or light enough for her to lift, as she needs to use both hands to putty-ify something, and she is unable to use her ability on living creatures other than herself. Soaking combined objects in saltwater also unmixes them if done within the first few days, as the sea nullifies the devil-fruit power. It also has a tendancy to activate when Brenda is distracted or startled, mixing her with her gear. Her hat and hair often fuse as soon as she stops paying attention, giving her a hairstyle in the shape of a hat, with it's decorations mixed in. If Brenda trips into a pile of bricks, she may turn to putty and splatter into them, reforming herself very blocky. And she tends to wake up in the morning with a pillow for a head. Mix-Mix Combine Rapidly knead into putty and combine two or more objects. Mix-Mix Augment Combine an object with a part of her body, to boost herself somehow, or gain some measure of control over it. (e.g. Hammer fist, rope tail, telescope eyes) Mix-Mix Full Body Putty Brenda transforms her whole body into putty. Very limited mobility, but greatly increased defence. Needs to be in this state to use Mix-Mix Full Body augment Mix-Mix Full Body Augment Brenda combines her whole self with an object or objects. This needs a greater supply of objects to be effective, or else they are too diluted. Mix-Mix Separate Pull objects out of a Mix-Mix technique, restoring them to their original properties. So far, Brenda can only use Mix-Mix Separate on objects she's added to the mix herself. She may develop the ability to undo other mixtures or compounds in the future. As well as the size limitation, the more alive something is, the harder it is for Brenda to work on it. Something completely inorganic is the easiest, with 'dead' organic matter such as a plank, cloth or a steak being only a little harder. A living plant is the limitation of her ability. Animals or people (Other than herself) are beyond Brenda's capabilities to alter. For now, anyway. Fighting style: Brenda is not a skilled fighter, but if pressured into a fight her style would be best described as 'wild brawling'. She throws whatever is to hand, mixes tools into herself for extra punching power and crawls under tables, over chairs and slams doors in faces or dumps pots on heads. She's no match for a skilled fighter, but can keep an amateur off guard long enough to escape. If cornered, she'd probably try setting something on fire. Ship Position: Assistant Shipwright Bounty: Insignificant (May have picked up a few hundred for petty crimes in local jurisdictions, but nothing that would cross a sea)

Able a pris quelques respirations profondes de retour de sa rage de pêcheur. Les choses semblent se passer au port, mais d'abord il veut aider son allié Ahio. Alors que ces sabres pitoyables le retenaient, il veut toujours se concentrer sur son sabre. Il regarde autour de lui et voit qu'un seul marin se tient là avec son épée tirée faible aux genoux. Évidemment, il est terrifié par Able après l'avoir vu arracher le bras de Takahito. Able s'approche de l'évident novice marin et tient sa main puis dit "Vous êtes lame" les novices marins hoches et les mains Able same. Able observe la lame et voit que c'est une lame de meilleure qualité puis sa dernière, mais rien de remarquable. Able sentait la pisse venant du novice marine, et Able crie "Begon" et le novice marine s'enfuit craignant sa vie. Able commence à s'approcher d'Ahio et le marine qu'il combat et déclare haut et fort « Le seul qui va perdre leur vie sera vous marine."Able lance le marine avec les poteaux Takahito bras lui permettant de voir ce qui peut lui arriver aussi bien.

Name: Ableyo Samenoken Appearance: Height/Weight:9'6/230' Age:24 Personality: Despite his tormented life Ableyo always seems to be optimistic and always looking forward to a brighter future. His training as a child made him into a very disciplined person and usually comes off as rude due to his straight forward attitude. Ultimately he is kind and can be seen as a father figure as he always willing to lend anyone advice if he can give it. Due to recent events in his life he has tried to ultimately relax and live life to its fullest for life is short. He usually spend his days training, meditating or other hobbies like writing. Despite what others have done to him he does not harbor any ill will to other races, as he knows not everyone carry the sins of their own kind. Their are some times though were he haunting memories comes back and this usually appears when he is holding his left side of his chest. Home Island/Sea: Wano Country History: Ableyo grew up in the Wano Country in a respected fishmen clan known as the Samenoken (Translate to Shark Sword). Their they taught him everything he needed to know about being a Samurai but he had no interest, and practiced half heartily despite the disapproval of his clan. One day when Ableyo was 12 his clan was attacked by a crew of pirates/slavers. He saw his own friends and family killed in front of him, and he tried to fight back but he was to weak. That night only a handful of the clan managed to escape, Ableyo however was not so lucky. He was sold at the highest bitter and began working as a slave for a Celestial Dragon. He was branded on his left chest even to this day the pain is still there. Once the Celestial Dragon was finished with him he was sold for dirt cheap to work as manual labor. Each day the memories of his clans destruction still vivid in his mind and he vowed to never allow that to happen again, so whenever he could he trained. For once took his training seriously with a strong goal fueling his resolve. Ultimately events happen to were he was able to escape his slavery and join Nikko, but all that is a story for another day. Fruit: Too awesome for fruit powers Fighting style: He uses a one sword fighting style usually with two hands unless he needs his left hand for something else.....like punching or grabbing something. The Samenoken swordsmanship relies on finding a opening in a opponents defense and unleashing a brutal attack when that opening is found. So when it looks like he is outmatched it really is him looking for a opportunity to strike. All techniques are much stronger in water as with most fishman fighting styles. * Sudden dash: Its a stepping technique were the user can bolt forward at incredible speeds, even when the user is not in motion. This is the foundation for most of the Samenoken fighting style. * Shark Leap strike: Once the user see a opening in the opponents defense the user uses Sudden dash along with a horizontal or vertical strike. The sudden speed from the dash gives this strike a ton of brute power. * One slash many strikes : A strike attack that uses the concept of Sudden Dash but with their arms not their legs. Doing so allows the user to make multiple attacks so quick it looks like one strike. Right now the user can only use a maximum of three strikes. * Launching water missile : The user strikes so the moisture or body of water in the area compresses to become a projectile weapon. This attack is weaker with less water in the area. * The water hypnosis trance: a type of trance a user puts himself in, in order to fool his body into thinking its under water by using the moisture around him. It increases his physical abilities and endurance but sadly lasts only a few minutes, upon which he can not do it again unless the user risks damages to his psyche. Completely useless in the desert. Ship Positions: 1st Mate Bounty: 0

Ryan s'est éparpillé et a eu quelques vrilles d'huile sur ses épaules. Il a saisi le boulet de canon et l'a soulevé au-dessus de sa tête avec une petite lutte. "Alors nous nous dirigeons vers les quais? Génial. Allons-y!" Ryan a commencé à errer dans la direction générale des quais, mais s'est arrêté. "Vous venez ou quoi? Parce que je ne sais pas comment construire une catapulte." Il a demandé avec une expression confuse. Un marine voisin a commencé à précipiter Ryan pour essayer de le descendre, Ryan a rapidement sorti une arme et l'a tiré dans le genou. La marine s'est effondrée sur le sol et Ryan a rembourré son arme. Il sourit et commença à errer de nouveau vers les quais.

Name: Ryan Chideta Height/Weight: 5"4, 110 Pounds Age: 22 Personality: Ryan is a very contradictory individual. He constantly pushes himself to the brinks of death as he trains constantly to become the best at what he does, but he can spend entire days doing absolutely nothing as he just lies down and stares at the sky. He's an easily excited individual who can never focus on one thing for long periods of time, but the dedication he puts into his marksmanship is rivaled by few. In battle though he seemingly becomes a new person as he pinpoints enemy weaknesses and environmental advantages and disadvantages. He doesn't talk during battle either, he instead let's his bullets do the talking. Few things faze him as he becomes a machine dedicated to his current goal. He can be serious outside of battle, he just prefers not to. His life motto is, "Life is already too serious. Why make it more so on purpose?" Home Island/Sea: East Blue History: Ryan was born on a pirate ship known as The Horsemen of War. They had kidnapped a prostitute and one of the crew members had a child with her. They kept it well hidden until the child was born, the crew killed the prostitute and the crew member. The captain, Quiet Shot, refused to kill the child and instead has the rest of the crew take care of him. The boy grew up fast, he learned to shoot with the best of them and every so often he went treasure hunting with the rest of the crew too. It was at the age of 13 that life changed for him. The Navy was finally cracking down on them and there were few people besides the captain left. Quiet Shot sent Ryan away on the last lifeboat as the Navy closed in on them, for the last time. Five years pass by and Ryan is hunting for treasure on an unnamed island in the middle of nowhere. He digs up a chest and after breaking it open he finds a bunch of fruit. He gets pretty pissed and throws a lot of it into the ocean. As he's about to throw the last piece his stomach growls and he realizes just how hungry he is. He has some fruit, so why not eat it. He immediately regretted that as he tasted oil mixed with dog crap. He swallowed it begrudgingly and almost immediately felt something wrong. He passed out for a bit, when he woke up his left arm was gone, with only oil spilled all over the beach sand. After about five minutes or so of panicking he began hoping and praying for his arm to be back, it began reforming out of the oil. He then realized exactly what happened. He had heard rumours of Devil Fruits from other pirates, he had just eaten one. Fast forward 6 years and he's traveling the seas in search of a worthy captain and a worthy goal. Fruit: Oiru-Oiru no Mi, Logia Class The Oiru-Oiru no Mi allows the user to turn into Oil, and use said oil for anything oil may be used for. The user can produce large amounts of oil and can liquefy their entire body if needed. If the user wanted to hide in a small bottle then they could, they could also power a vehicle with their own body if they wanted. Typical weaknesses apply, the user cannot float on water using the Oiru-Oiru Fruit. They will just solidify into their body and sink as usual. The major weakness of the fruit is the users own weakness to fire, when turned into oil they are highly flammable. Fighting style: Ryan uses guns, lots and lots of guns. While most people can only hold two guns, Ryan can form arms of oil to hold more guns and fire more bullets. He is also adept at reloading fast, but there is a limit to how much he can multitask. More complex tasks will require more attention, while simple things like loading and firing a gun is easy for him to do. He tries to stay away from the enemy, but he's no slouch in close combat. He uses typical Logia tactics like liquefying to avoid hits, but he also uses the oil he produces with incendiary bullets to create fires and in extreme cases, explosions. He keeps 10 guns on him at minimum at all times. Ship Positions: TBA, could be maintenance guy. Bounty: 0

C'est Nabil. C'était drôle, pour Nabil du moins, que son adversaire soit plus ou moins comme lui-même. Comme l'homme âgé devant lui, il n'avait senti qu'un soupçon d'agitation qu'il devait poursuivre ce combat, qu'il ne l'avait pas terminé et ne pouvait pas continuer avec ses fiançailles précédentes. Le poteau plié à sa main et le marin sauta sur sa coupe guillotine, atterrissant pas trop loin de lui. Un instant de plus, il tenait sa prise super-chauffée sur le poteau avant de finalement le laisser revenir à son propriétaire. C'était une arme assez inutile à son avis, mais peut-être que c'était dangereux dans la main du vieil homme. Pendant que l'homme parlait, Nabil tapait l'orteil de ses bottes contre le sol, ses yeux suivant les fissures du ciment alors qu'il, fondamentalement, doutait du discours de l'homme cliché. Avant que l'homme ne puisse terminer la partie naïve de sa mort, Nabil dirigea sa paume vers l'homme, ses yeux encore sur le sol. Il l'a déjà entendu, il l'a interrompu, tournant ses yeux calmes sur le marine. Chaque fois et à chaque fois m'a conduit à m'éloigner d'un cadavre chauffé. Un courant d'air chaud s'est précipité de sa paume. Il serait caché derrière le flux normal d'air, une surprise une fois qu'il s'est écrasé dans l'homme; Nabil a gardé son sang-froid comme une concentration séparée de chaleur formée autour de lui. Petit à petit, cette collecte de chaleur s'est formée en quinze aiguilles rouges. Ils étaient restés autour de lui jusqu'à ce qu'il déchaîne une volley de cinq vers le marine aussi bien. Je trouverai vos secrets.

Name: Nabil "The Calm" Valley Height/Weight: 5’9” / 142lbs Age: 18 The alias “The Calm” was given to Nabil due to his infallible ability to seem un-phased by most antagonist. Some assume that he hides an intelligence behind this composed wall. Those are lies. He is as smart as the next man, maybe a bit more so, but that’s mainly due to his innate caution. He knows when to shut his mouth and when to speak out against others. In that aspect, he travels in a gray area. Where one person’s reality is not his own, but instead an adjacent to what could have been. In other words, he attempts to empathize with others. His love for the sea is directly tied to his extensive love for freedom, which contradicts his abnormal caution. Home Island/Sea: Provestal Island. The son of two Marines, it was very unlikely that Nabil would later become a pirate. In fact, his parent’s loving nature left little to be desired. When the two were deployed, expecting to be gone for several years, he was sent to live with distant relatives on Provestal Island. A quaint, small place where a unnerving calm saturated the air. On the island he explored the deep woods that surrounded the small town. Finding interest in the giant wild life and floral. He couldn’t understand it for the longest, unwilling to show his ignorance he would remain that way for several months. When he finally asked his aunt and cousin, they explained that the oxygen levels on the island was abnormally high. He took those words to face value and continued finish his breakfast, a rather calm fascination now inside of him. By the age of thirteen, Nabil had seemingly become the living force of Provestal Isle’s calm. Though many had resided on the isle, not many could match his level of tranquil. When others were too afraid to enter the force, he would walk through the greenery, alongside the giant beasts, and gaze at the crater in its center. Every day he returned there, he felt the urge to delve inside grow stronger. It was like the sound of the careening waterfall hitting the dark bottom was a calling card. It beckoned for him to adventure below but caution staid his descent. At the age of fifteen, Provestal Isle was visited by a band of pirates. They washed ashore on a broken and shattered boat, the captain deeply worried about his crew. The island offered them shelter for three nights. Those three nights were filled with stories of stormy adventures and fanciful tales of the unnatural. Needless to say, Nabil was enticed by them. On the fourth night, the Marines surrounded the isle with a fleet of ranked officers. The Pirate Captain, who expressed his desire to not tangle the island up in his affairs had decided to give himself up. He left with his crew moments later. An hour had peacefully passed before cannon fire had begun to rain down. A scarce group of the pirates returned in tears, warning that the marines was going to kill them all, despite their surrender. Behind them, the marines trampled forward. Nabil and his cousin, along with others, were told to retreat to the forest. To let the beasts protect them as a last resort. As Nabil guided his cousin to the crater, he could hear the cries of villagers as some of the beasts prowled on them. Dark smoke soon billowed from the tree line, orange heat lined its treetops. Nabil believed his cousin and himself to be safe. That was until canon fire came dangerously close to them. Fear led him to trying to convince his cousin to dive into the crater with him; the promise of water below was not enough though. The boy, who was supposed to jump on three with him, had stayed on top, where canon fire had seared his face and tossed him out of sight. At the bottom of the cavern spring, Nabil immediately swore vengeance on the Marines. He followed the water to the mouth of the island, one that led out into the ocean. Once he returned back to the shore, he witnessed the pirate captain shackled and ready to be inhumanly executed. Nabil realized that the majority of the Marines had left during his long stay in the cavern and that only a few was left. He would have heroically saved the guy, if he had been so afraid. He was shot several times in the head before finally being left alone. Nabil waited until nightfall, when the sea was quiet and empty till he finally approached. The captain was dead but the beach was littered with members of his crew. As Nabil walked through, a bloodied hand grabbed him and instructed, with vexation in his voice, to avenge them. With that in mind, he told Nabil the location of a treasure near the inn in the village. The village was burned to the ground and Nabil had all but given up hope on finding anyone alive. They all had bullets in them, one for each alive he figured. Once to the treasure chest, he found a fruit inside. He bit it after a bit of hesitance and after spitting it out, found out it was a devil fruit. He became a 10,000 degrees human. Years later and he had become a pirate, one hell bent on getting in the marines way. Usually his actions were small, intervening with rookie marines in small towns and allowing the escape of other pirates. Though recently he hijacked a marine ship and sailed it to Reverse Mountain. Devil Fruit: Atsu Atsu no Mi (Hot Hot Fruit) Fighting style: Direct and brutish, Nabil fights in conjunction with his Hot Hot Fruit abilities. Landing searing blows and burning away those that stand in his way. He seems to know some form of martial arts, as he often lowers into a stance when fighting one on one. With all the potential of a Supenova. Nabil has the possibility to use Observation Haki, Arms Haki, and Conquerors Haki. Though these have not been explored and largely unseen. He will need immense training to bring these out of himself. Atsu Atsu no Spears Nabil shapes the heat that fumes from his body into several needles. He launches these needles at the speed of a musket's bullet and pierces those he's up against. With a cold calculation, he uses this technique to take out mass armies of weaklings. Though fast and effective, it pretty easy to dodge if you're perceptive. Ship Positions: - 10,000,000

M a r x o Un peu trop facile pour un capitaine si vous me le demandez. Ce mur là-bas sera probablement ma sortie. Je n'ai pas d'intérêt à être bombardé par un bâtiment qu'il a détruit... Moa Moa Hyaku-Bai Giri! Au début, le faux n'était pas plus grand que son palmier intérieur, mais il a commencé à croître à mesure que ses pouvoirs de fruits diables flottaient dans tout le matériel. «SLASH! Le bâtiment a été coupé dans deux Marxo n'a pas perdu de temps à sauter par le trou ouvert. Il a atterri sur le terrain et a fait des recherches pour Nabil. En le voyant, il a remarqué que Nabil combattait encore le marine. En général, Nabil a terminé ses combats en premier. Cela a fait penser à Marxo que peut-être Nabil avait l'adversaire plus fort. Parfois, ce n'était pas tout sur le grade. Il a appelé Nabil, il l'a fini. Tu ne joues pas avec ta proie si vigoureusement. Ça nous donne un mauvais nom.

Marxo St. Laurant Height/Weight: 6’1, 160lbs Age:19 Personality: Marxo is quite calm and collected. He tends to speak in a very collective manner. Even in dire situation, he is always the one to keep his cool. He thinks it would better help the situation if he acts this way. It is often hard to make him made but not impossible. The most two major things that upset him are being turned down by females and running out of smokes. Other than that he remains almost monotone, from his voice, personality, and mindset. His persona is due to his past. Its almost like he has a split personality . His other half is a maniacal , senseless man with no disregard to human kind. His only interest in that time is seeing everything colored red with the blood of this enemies. Home Island/Sea: St Laurants’ Isle,South Blue History: Marxo was born in the East Blue . His family had traveled to the South almost immediately after he was born. They settled on a deserted island and used the wildlife to live off of. His mother happened to be a master chef but not one of legend and lore. His father on the other hand was a hunter so this made the couple well adept to their surrounding. Within the first three years of Marxo’s life his parents had already tamed the island and renamed the newly cultivated place St. Laurant’s isle after his family. At 7 he was taught how to hunt alongside his father. it seem to come naturally to the boy. his first catch was a friendly panda shark whom his father told him to release back into the sea. After all his mother had no use for such meat. At the age of 14 ,he met his first neighbors. They had also traveled from an island off in the distance. From first sight they seemed like nice people, but eventually more unwelcomes began to turn up. Marxo saw this as a good thing but his parents knew better. They decided to establish a hierarchy with Marxo’s family heading the pack. This was agreeable since they were the first one aboard the island, but one family had different plans. They wanted the St. Laurant’s lifestyle , or better yet their lives. So one day the cooked up a scheme to take out this new head family. Since the St. Laurants’ did all of the hunting and cooking the other family decided that taking the load off of them for a day would be the best way to trick the family. It seemed like a convenience to Marxo and his family so they gladly accepted the invitation. The other would hunt and prepare a monstrous feast for the now,small village and the heads of the village but inside of the meals that they could would be either sleeping or paralyzing powder. On the night Marxo was turning 15 . He could never forget this night. It would be forever burned into his mind. His parents had been gutted like fishes in front of his very eyes. They had received the sleeping powder while he the paralyzing one. He knew they never stood a chance but he begged and pleaded with the other family. They just smiled and kept cutting till his parents resembled carved turkey. He knew he’d be next. Just as they made their way towards him , the powder began to wear off. He could feel the blood rushing in his hands, then to his arms , and legs. Next came the pain. Tears swelled up in his eyes , as he continued to play helpless. As soon as the family made its move he’d destroy them. The father began to untie his hands. The moment he felt free he took the chair his was once sitting in and slammed it across the man’s face. He then picked up a piece of broken wood the chair and ran it like a dagger straight thru his heart. He stared at the other two women with soul-less eyes. “Your next.”, he exclaimed as he rushed towards them both with the same piece of wood he’d taken the man out with previously. He stabbed the women repeatedly until he was satisfied and passed out from exhaustion. A few hours later he awoke to find himself on a slave tradeship, along with his fellow neighbors. The boat was headed for the east blue. He would spend the next 2 years as a cook aboard a floating restaurant in the sea until his killer mentality got the best of him and he slayed the entire crew. Before deserting the emptied cafe he’d stumbled upon an odd fruit. Upon eating the fruit his body began to turn into shadows. He later came to find out it was the “Yami Yami no Mi” fruit. For the next two years he trained and study everything he could find about the fruit .He truly wants to learn how to fully control the fruit and manipulate it to help him become a pirate. Fruit: Moa Moa no Mi: The Moa Moa no Mi is a Paramecia-class Devil Fruit that allows the user to amplify the size or speed of any object they touch. More More Sanjubai Giri (モアモア百倍斬り Moa Moa Hyaku-bai Giri, literally meaning "More More Thirtyfold Slash"): enlarges a scythe to 30 times its original size while it's flying towards his opponent. More More Jubai Soku (モアモア十倍速 Moa Moa Jū-bai Soku, literally meaning "More More Tenfold Speed"): increases speed to 10 times original speed, More More Sanjubai Soku (モアモア三十倍速 Moa Moa Sanjū-bai Soku, literally meaning "More More Thityfold Speed"): increases his speed to 30 times his original speed. Fighting style: Jeet Kune Do(Wing Chun)- not fixed or patterned, and is a philosophy with guiding thoughts. It was named for the Wing Chun concept of interception or attacking while one's opponent is about to attack. Jeet Kune Do practitioners believe in minimal movements with maximum effects and extreme speed. The system works by using different "tools" for different situations, where the situations are divided into ranges, which are kicking, punching, trapping, and grappling, where martial artists use techniques to flow smoothly between them. Ship Position: Tba. -For the Death and Desecration of an Entire Island -Deaths of a Cook Captain and crewmembers.

"En dehors de la poêle qui était sur le point de se faire tirer dessus, dans le feu qui va se faire tirer dessus." Quitter dans la peur alors qu'il entendait l'homme littéralement lui dire que Leonard ne serait pas rempli de trous de balles YET, Leonard a fait ce que n'importe qui ferait, Grovel. À plusieurs reprises, alors qu'il faisait beaucoup de choses, Leonard s'est mis à crier : « VEUILLEZ NE PAS L'IMPORTER » avant de voir un bon nombre de marines brouillés s'évanouir. Presque tous. Frappé à plat sur le dos de la force du vent, Leonard a couvert ses yeux de son capot et a attendu que la rafale massive tombe alors qu'il regardait l'homme avec le Bazooka. Heureux que quelqu'un d'aussi puissant ait été là, il s'est brouillé les genoux et a regardé de nouveau d'où venaient les marines et sa mâchoire a failli tomber assez pour abattre son propre masque."T-T-T-T-T-Cet homme est HUUUUGE! Et ces gens ont l'air différents... beaucoup plus forts... il s'est lamenté, griffant la tête. Et puis il s'est rendu compte. En regardant avec frénésie Nikko une fois qu'il a entendu son gémissement, il s'est brouillé à ses pieds une fois qu'il l'a vu parler à la femme aux cheveux bleus tenant un boulet de canon. Panting et griffant son cœur, Leonard hoche la tête à sa demande, en disant : « J'ai des médicaments antidouleurs... u-um, certains de ses forts, donc je vais vous donner les médicaments non somnolents. » Alors qu'il a fini de parler, il a récupéré ce qui semblait être un petit sachet de thé attaché en haut par une corde grise, tissu propre abritant le médicament à l'intérieur. En le plaçant dans sa main, il a mis en garde: "J-J'ai juste à ne boire qu'une heure après que vous l'ayez pris. Il se mélange mal avec l'alcool." avant de soupirer profondément. C'était bon d'aider. Même si c'était des pirates. Puis la discussion sur la façon dont ils allaient sortir de ce désordre a commencé, avec des idées d'une catapulte même jetée là-dedans. Leonard n'était même pas sûr s'il devait s'impliquer davantage avec ça, étant donné qu'il n'était pas un pirate. Il en a juste marqué un par des gens qu'il vient de rencontrer aujourd'hui. Hésantement, il s'est éloigné des marines et des pirates, prêt à tourner la queue et à courir jusqu'à ce qu'il entende un coup de feu. C'était incroyablement évident, d'après la marine qui frappait le sol, à quel point il souffrait. Leonard ne pouvait pas lui en vouloir, c'était une balle directe dans sa rotule, ce qui signifiait sans aucun doute qu'il souffrait d'une douleur absolument exécrable. Le genou était, après tout, un faisceau d'os, de cartilage et de nerfs, qui étaient probablement coupés par une balle, et sinon il y avait une balle assise au centre de tous ces tissus. Sans doute le marine s'était-il évanoui de la douleur ou était-il trop douloureux pour crier. Clenchant son poing, Leonard dut s'empêcher de crier carrément sur l'homme avec une peau grasse, et au lieu de choisir de se précipiter devant le lot d'entre eux à la marine blessée, rapidement défourner son manteau entier et le retourner sur le sol, des centaines sur des centaines de bouteilles de médicaments, d'outils, de bocals de... quelque chose d'écume, et de seringues toutes capitonnées pour éviter de se salir. Leonard s'en foutait de qui il était à ce moment-là, ou qui allait essayer de se précipiter sur lui, de l'arrêter, ou de l'aider. C'était un putain de docteur et il y avait un homme qui souffrait au-delà des mots. Rapidement, Leonard a sédifié le marine, la douleur au moins engourdissant à un grand degré avant d'essayer d'enlever la balle. Quelle que soit la procédure, il devait d'abord enlever le projectile avant de pouvoir fermer la plaie. Plus que probable, la balle était du plomb, ce qui signifie que tout moment d'exposition était dangereux. Même alors, le liquide synovial à l'intérieur de la rotule était déjà en train de dissoudre la balle, ce qui signifie qu'il y avait déjà du plomb dans le flux sanguin de la marine. Enlevant rapidement la balle, Leonard la mit de côté et se mit à arrêter le saignement, priant que quiconque avec un cœur le laisserait au moins finir cela avant qu'ils ne commencent à essayer de le tuer. "D-D-Ne meurs pas de d-d-d-dare!" Il a murmuré, essayant de se calmer au milieu du sang et des fluides.

Name: Leonard Siegfriedt Appearance: (Ignore the gun, his pansy ass probably couldn't even lift it) Height/Weight: 5’2, 112 lbs. Age: 19 Personality: While Leonard may seem like a rather grim person, that’s just a misconception most people would get from his clothing. He’s actually rather shy, and tries to hide as much of himself from others as he can, hence the hood and the faceguard. He’s actually a lot nicer than you’d take him for, difficult to anger and easy to please. As a doctor, he believes it to be his duty to help the unwell, and can’t stand to see people suffer when he can do something to help. Even though he has Hypochondriasis. Home Island: North Blue, Principality of Eurijk History: To understand why Leonard is the way he is, it’s more important to know who his parents were, or rather, parent. A woman by the name of Charlotte Siegfriedt, infamously known as the Plague Woman. A person who consumed a rather odd Devil-Fruit by the name of the Toru-Toru no Mi, the Thieving fruit. Despite the powerful nature of the fruit, Charlotte solely used the innately malicious power of the fruit to, rather than steal things such as other’s organs or lives, instead stole from them their ailments, their weariment, their sickness, and their afflictions. Truly a saint, Charlotte traveled the world, willing to help whoever she could save by using her own body as the host for innumerable viruses. Doing so was no easy task for her, however. The pain was unbearable at times, with several fevers racking her body every week, sometimes hitting at the same time. Were it not for her strong conviction to help others, she likely would have died in her sleep countless times. Naturally, carrying that many ailments would shorten one’s lifespan dramatically, and as such, she was fated to die by the age of 30, if not sooner. Doing what she could with her remaining time, she travelled the North Blue, where she was already infamous for having eliminated the lethal Muave Pox that spread through it years before; infamous for being the only known carrier of it. As such, she was shunned and nearly stoned to death several times, resulting in the loss of one of her eyes. From there, Leonard isn’t sure of how he came to be. He isn’t sure who his father is, or how an infant was able to be born without getting deathly ill from a woman like his mother. But what he did know was that his mother was dying every moment he was with her. It was a terrifying experience for the boy, knowing that his mother would die soon. But he never expected the day she would leave their make-shift home in the middle of the swamp-land region of Eurijk. Without a word of goodbye besides a letter telling Leonard to live honestly, his mother vanished. Sailing off to sea, she perished in the middle of the sea somewhere, her body drifting to the bottom of the sea with her host of plagues. Terribly saddened and alone, Leonard soon declined into depression, cursing the world that there was never anyone who could cure his mother of her illnesses. Now alone in the world, Leonard studied tirelessly to perfect medicines of his own concoction, using himself and various animals around the area to test his brews. One of those concoctions also happened to nearly blow his entire home to pieces, resulting in the left side of his face to be burned quite severely. Years later, without a penny to his name, he set off into the world to cure the incurable, more than aware of his dream being absolutely ridiculous. But then...a world free of sickness never was his own dream. It was his mother’s. Fighting Style: Do No Harm Despite his Hippocratic Oath, Leonard understands perfectly well that in this violent world, conflict is inevitable. While not a proficient hand-to-hand fighter, he has the knowledge required to dislocate someone’s bones if given enough of an opening, as well as having amazingly precise and steady hands. Combined with his accurate vision, he is able to throw scalpels like throwing knives with a great deal of precision. Crew Position: Doctor Bounty: 0 Others: Wears his faceguard more to hide his face than to keep from catching something, despite his frightfully strong immune system. While he does have the potential to have rather strong Observation Haki, he is currently unaware of Haki's existence, and has no idea how to use it. Character Theme

-Main STREET - -Main STREET - -Main STREET - -Main STREET - -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET Tristan et Zell se tiennent tous les deux devant la grande femme avec des chaussures lourdes. Les chaussures sont noires, mais on dirait qu'elles ont des taches sur le fond. Elle se lève et ajuste ses lunettes avec le bout de son doigt moyen. Elle jette un éblouissement irrité sur les deux et sillonne son front. "Deux contre un? Contre une petite dame comme moi. Comme c'est impie." Elle gronde mais leur fait un petit sourire enroulé au bord de sa bouche. De toute évidence, elle les taquine et fait un mouvement rapide et rapide vers eux. Elle s'éloigne à quatre pas et, au deuxième pas, elle augmente brusquement sa vitesse et saute vers l'avant. Elle claque les deux pieds aux deux hommes en même temps dans un double coup de pied volant. "Ne t'énerve pas, bande de pirates!" elle crie (je vais juste le déplacer un peu pour qu'on puisse continuer plus vite. L'homme avec le personnel court regarde comme son capitaine est littéralement désarmé par le grand pêcheur de requin. Il a été revivifié pour voir qu'il s'est enfui plutôt que de rester à double équipe contre lui. Se recentrant sur lui-même, il se retourne vers l'homme de l'éclairage. Cela allait être assez difficile à vaincre s'il fait même une erreur. Cette puissance d'éclairage n'était rien à éternuer non plus. "Vous serez abattus. Il n'y a aucun doute à ce sujet." Il a dit calmement avant de fermer les yeux. Soudain, il se déplace à une vitesse incroyable avec ces yeux encore fermés. D'une certaine façon, il semble savoir exactement où est Ahio. Il fait une balançoire sur la tête d'Ahio qu'il est à peine capable d'esquiver. Les mouvements de l'homme sont plus vifs qu'auparavant et soudain il apparaît sur Ahio qu'il pourrait ne pas être en mesure de le vaincre sans prendre un certain risque. "C'est la fin du pirate!" l'homme hurle alors qu'il élève son bâton et frappe l'estomac d'Ahio. Il y a un flash de lumière que le personnel frappe Ahio dans l'estomac. La force de l'attaque était en quelque sorte affaiblie par l'onde de choc de l'énergie électrique qu'il avait concentrée sur cette partie de son corps. Les lames d'Ahio étaient aussi coincées dans le marine. Cependant les coupes étaient très peu profondes et Ahio a pris beaucoup plus de dégâts. La première lame était coincée dans l'épaule gauche supérieure de la marine et l'autre dans la région du centre de la poitrine. "Ha! C'est mon pirate de victoire! » Il dit avec confiance. Ahio dit lentement. "Choc cardiaque." Il laisse perdre une explosion d'énergie électrique qui court du haut de son épaule à son abdomen qui court directement à travers le cœur du marin. Le Marine tombe au sol. LE PORT Hanna a fait un rapide retour pour atterrir sur ses pieds seulement pour voir qu'il y avait une feuille de verre qui venait à elle sur le sol. Elle saute rapidement sur le côté seulement pour trouver le verre qui change de direction pour la suivre. "Eh bien, c'est ennuyeux..." elle mute sous son souffle. Elle attend jusqu'à ce que le verre soit sur elle et ensuite elle saute dans l'air au-dessus. C'était, avec le recul, un mauvais mouvement. Maintenant, au milieu de l'air, le verre lui tire dessus. Son bras se branle rapidement alors qu'un puissant coup frappe la majorité du verre, mais certains trouvent leur chemin dans sa chair. Quelques shards sont dans son estomac et deux ou trois sont dans sa jambe. Elle atterrit maladroitement et sort rapidement les morceaux de verre. Ses yeux s'élargissent avec colère et elle éblouit à Sylas. "Bastard... je vais te tuer..." elle tient son épée maintenant dans une poignée inversée, puis prend son pistolet et le recharge rapidement. "Je vais te mettre fin... maintenant." Elle dit que ses grands yeux se rétrécissent et elle saute en avant sans se méfier du verre sur le sol maintenant. Elle saute soigneusement au-dessus du verre et passe juste quelques shards qui lui ont tiré dessus. Elle balance une fois avec l'épée dans une tentative de frapper / briser les épées de verre et puis immédiatement après a tenté de tirer à portée de main. Le problème, cependant, c'est qu'elle s'est laissée trop ouverte après une telle attaque. Le vieil homme regarde Marxo revenir de son combat. Il semble surpris qu'il ait gagné, mais pas trop. Il ne perd pas son sang-froid. Il frappe simplement sa barbe, puis se fend l'épaule. "Hmm. Je suppose qu'il ne sera pas promu. Oh oui... j'ai oublié de mentionner quelque chose. Tous les officiers de cette mission peuvent être promus selon leur façon de procéder. J'avais espéré qu'il aurait gardé sa tête plutôt que de sortir comme ça. C'est le plus embarrassant de mes élèves." Le vieil homme a dit à propos de l'homme de boule de canon. "Il était loin d'être imprudent. Tant qu'il est vivant, je peux toujours le faire s'entraîner plus loin. » Il laisse ses pensées s'envoler un moment, mais c'était à ce moment-là que Nabil créa les aiguilles de chaleur. "Oh ho." Le vieil homme a dit avec une légère curiosité. "Chauffez les armes. Non physique, mais sera probablement infliger une sorte de dommage physique. Pas mal." Il tient son bâton et prend une position étrange. Il ressemble presque à une position d'épée car il tient simplement le poteau à la fin. Il semble qu'au moment où il s'était fait piéger le poteau de pêche. Les aiguilles volent sur lui, mais il s'éloigne rapidement et doucement du chemin et frappe en fait deux des aiguilles avec le poteau et plie leur trajectoire loin de lui. Avec un lancer rapide et puissant, il a jeté le crochet à la fin de la corde derrière Marxo et Nabil. Il était accroché sur un gros morceau de pierre qui avait été brisé par la boule de canon. Avec un abruti de ses poignets, il lance la pierre sur le dos de Nabil. Le poteau semble cependant avoir légèrement déformé et la puissance de la pierre a été réduite. Le vieil homme regarde le poteau et voit où la chaleur a affaibli le métal. "Trop mauvais. C'était aussi une bonne arme." Il le dit à la légère en le jetant de côté. Maintenant, entrer dans le port est un requin massif de sept pieds. À sa droite, près du bord du port, un homme utilise du verre pour combattre une jeune fille avec une arme et un sabre. A l'autre bout du port, il semble y avoir une bataille de 2 v 1 en cours des deux du bar alors qu'ils combattent un vieil homme mystérieux. Cependant, Able remarque quelque chose ou plutôt quelqu'un debout sur le navire de la Marine. La figure saute et atterrit au milieu du port et attire l'attention de tout le monde. C'est un homme d'apparence normale debout à environ six pieds et huit pouces de haut avec un cinq o horloge non éparpillée shaddow et brun buissonnant cheveux. L'homme porte une veste de capitaine et semble essuyer le sommeil de ses yeux. LE TAVERN Nikko se frotte la tête et accepte gracieusement les médicaments du docteur. Sourire qu'elle a laissé le médicament pour utilisation ultérieure car elle ne veut rien d'autre pour entrer dans son système et perturber ses compétences de combat. Elle en aura probablement besoin bientôt. Surtout avec cette figure imminente d'un capitaine et de ses leiutenants qui pèchent de plus en plus. La foule des marines causait encore le chaos dans la ville et il semblait que l'escarmouche qui avait été en train de descendre dans quelques rues était terminée et la majorité des combats se faisait au port. Maintenant sa main sur ses yeux pour agir comme une visière de soleil, elle s'accorde avec ses yeux étranges pour voir Abel arriver non la scène au port. Les deux individus pompeux qu'elle avait rencontrés dans la taverne étaient déjà sur les docs qui combattaient certaines personnes. Gritant ses dents, elle tremble légèrement alors que l'excitation de tout l'événement s'enfonçait. Elle ne peut s'empêcher de sourire d'oreille à oreille jusqu'à ce qu'elle remarque que tous les navires ont été coulés. "Eh bien, ça craint..." Elle ne dit pas vraiment de quoi elle parle. Cependant, elle remarque qu'il y a encore... un bateau... qui est parti. Juste une. L'énorme vaisseau amiral était encore à flot et avait beaucoup de munitions et probablement des fournitures. -- Oui... dit-elle lentement. Son tremblement est maintenant un peu plus visible. Elle jette les bras en l'air. "Oui!" Elle hurle. Il ne semblait pas que beaucoup de gens aient réagi à ce qui était probablement bon car c'était un peu embarrassant. Elle a regardé comme la fille à cheveux bleus a transformé les vêtements de l'homme en briques qui sont maintenant couchées sur lui. Ses yeux s'élargissaient et elle marchait vers elle. "C'est une bonne capacité. Vous avez l'option de mélanger des objets en fonction des propriétés? C'est incroyable... » Elle dit apparemment en état de choc pour une raison quelconque. Puis elle pose sa main sur l'épaule de la fille. La main de Nikko est couverte d'un gant massif qui est évidemment de plusieurs tailles à grandes pour elle. "Je veux que tu rejoignes mon équipage. Mon nom est Nikko. Je commence une équipe et nous avons déjà quelques membres potentiels." Elle rappelle le docteur. "Il n'y en a qu'un. C'est notre médecin. Mon premier ami est le grand requin au port. Dunno qui tous les autres ont décidé de rejoindre mais vos pouvoirs sont intéressants. Je pense que je peux avoir une grande utilité pour eux." Elle lui donne un sourire chaleureux et se tourne ensuite vers l'homme qui avait pris la boule de canon alors qu'il tirait sur un marine dans le genou. "Vous avez l'air fort aussi. Jusqu'à ce qu'on se joigne?" Elle demande à Ryan d'une manière décontractée. "Qu'en dites-vous..." Elle dit de marcher vers lui. "Faisons un marché. Je m'occupe du capitaine et de ses lieutenants et vous m'aidez à prendre ce navire." Elle met l'accent sur l'énorme vaisseau marin. « C'est le dernier qui flotte encore et quelle serait l'importance de mettre la voile dans la grande ligne sur un navire destiné à nous capturer? » Ses yeux brillent alors qu'elle tient les mains pour la boule de canon. "J'ai aimé l'idée de la catapulte, mais j'ai une idée légèrement meilleure." Atteindre elle saisit la boule de canon, pas d'une manière grossière, mais juste la ramasser. Elle se promène vers l'endroit où les Marines montent la légère inclinaison vers la Taverne depuis le port et soulève la boule de canon au-dessus de la tête. Avec un saut rapide, elle fait une pleine attaque d'été et atterrit dur sur ses pieds alors qu'elle lâche la balle de canon, la jetant effectivement à pleine vitesse au capitaine qui n'a pas eu le temps de réagir. Il s'enflamme et souffle les marines dégagés de la route leur donnant un chemin rapide et facile vers le port. "Voilà." Nikko dit d'enlever ses gants. "Maintenant nous pouvons y arriver en un rien de temps." Elle regarde en arrière pour voir le médecin à peine prêter attention à ce qu'elle a dit, mais au lieu de traiter un marin blessé. Ça l'a ramenée un peu en laissant sortir un soupir. Elle ne s'attendait pas à ce que le docteur fasse quelque chose comme ça. Ça l'a rendu un peu étonnant à ses yeux. Elle le tape sur le dos. "Wow. Peu de gens feraient ça à des gens qui venaient de les menacer. Vous êtes vraiment un bon docteur, n'est-ce pas?" Elle sourit, puis le ramasse et le jette sur son dos. "Mais je suppose que tu es lent. Je vais vous déposer. Allons-y." Sans même une seconde pensée, elle saute dans un sprint complet sur la nouvelle route défrichée vers le port.

Name: Nikko Tenchi Appearance: Height/Weight: 5ft'7in/ enough Age: Appears to be about 18. Personality: While in public she seems well put together and confident in private she is often childish and stubborn. She is headstrong no matter where she is however. Once her mind is made up it would take an act of god to change it. In fact if history provides any reference even that might not. While generally a happy-go-lucky kind of person she has hot blood running through her veins. She may break tables or throw things through walls when she gets angry (or just drunk). It is her inquisitive and curious mind that rules her passion. Her favorite thing to do is to experiment or tinker with things. She has a vast desire to know how things work and to replicate them herself. Her collar and gloves are made with her inventing in mind. Her goggles, which are of her own invention stay on her head without any support at all. She can move them around where she needs and will often bring them down over her eyes during a fight that seems dangerous. Home Island/Sea: Taiko Island History: I am breaking my own rule slightly as some of her past has to do with the overall plot. But in the recent year she has made her name adventuring a bit through different parts of the grand line. While never declaring herself as a pirate per-se she has always considered herself one ever since she has left home which was a year and a half ago. Since then she has met plenty of people. Roughly one month ago she met a person who rivaled her in strength. It was a massive shark fishman hailing from the Wano Country. They initially didn't like each other as he was a bit rude and didn't have the proper respect for women that she felt she deserved. They got into no less than three fights before drawing the attention of a prominent pirate of the area. The two were forced to work together to escape. However in the rush they found themselves stuck in the calm belt. Having spent three days in the calm belt fighting off sea kings and running like hell they managed to pop out in west blue. From there they found a pirate with a bounty worth only a million. It was hardly even effort to take down this man and his crew but it did provide them with enough spending money to ferry a ride with a group of people heading into the grand line. Fruit: None Fighting style: Brawling. Despite her petite figure she is actually incredibly physically strong. Her punch packs a hell of a wallop and her speed is nothing to sniff at. Her style of fighting doesn't follow any particular martial art and is mostly self taught. However despite this self taught style she incorporates moves from several different arts into her own. For example many of her punches seem to be a mix between the way Karate and Boxing punch. However the movements are more fluid and natural than stylized. Many of her kicks seem to come from Tae Kwan do or Muai Thai. She knows how to grapple and throw as well. Her grip is strong enough to stop most ships and the gloves that she wear are made of an incredible material that doesn't seem to rip or tear no matter how much pressure and tension she puts on them. Haki of Observation is her most powerful Haki at this point. She has useage of the Haki of Armament as well. Ship Positions: Captain/Shipwright (looking for apprentice shipwright) Bounty: Currently 0

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Name: Nikko Tenchi Appearance: Height/Weight: 5ft'7in/ enough Age: Appears to be about 18. Personality: While in public she seems well put together and confident in private she is often childish and stubborn. She is headstrong no matter where she is however. Once her mind is made up it would take an act of god to change it. In fact if history provides any reference even that might not. While generally a happy-go-lucky kind of person she has hot blood running through her veins. She may break tables or throw things through walls when she gets angry (or just drunk). It is her inquisitive and curious mind that rules her passion. Her favorite thing to do is to experiment or tinker with things. She has a vast desire to know how things work and to replicate them herself. Her collar and gloves are made with her inventing in mind. Her goggles, which are of her own invention stay on her head without any support at all. She can move them around where she needs and will often bring them down over her eyes during a fight that seems dangerous. Home Island/Sea: Taiko Island History: I am breaking my own rule slightly as some of her past has to do with the overall plot. But in the recent year she has made her name adventuring a bit through different parts of the grand line. While never declaring herself as a pirate per-se she has always considered herself one ever since she has left home which was a year and a half ago. Since then she has met plenty of people. Roughly one month ago she met a person who rivaled her in strength. It was a massive shark fishman hailing from the Wano Country. They initially didn't like each other as he was a bit rude and didn't have the proper respect for women that she felt she deserved. They got into no less than three fights before drawing the attention of a prominent pirate of the area. The two were forced to work together to escape. However in the rush they found themselves stuck in the calm belt. Having spent three days in the calm belt fighting off sea kings and running like hell they managed to pop out in west blue. From there they found a pirate with a bounty worth only a million. It was hardly even effort to take down this man and his crew but it did provide them with enough spending money to ferry a ride with a group of people heading into the grand line. Fruit: None Fighting style: Brawling. Despite her petite figure she is actually incredibly physically strong. Her punch packs a hell of a wallop and her speed is nothing to sniff at. Her style of fighting doesn't follow any particular martial art and is mostly self taught. However despite this self taught style she incorporates moves from several different arts into her own. For example many of her punches seem to be a mix between the way Karate and Boxing punch. However the movements are more fluid and natural than stylized. Many of her kicks seem to come from Tae Kwan do or Muai Thai. She knows how to grapple and throw as well. Her grip is strong enough to stop most ships and the gloves that she wear are made of an incredible material that doesn't seem to rip or tear no matter how much pressure and tension she puts on them. Haki of Observation is her most powerful Haki at this point. She has useage of the Haki of Armament as well. Ship Positions: Captain/Shipwright (looking for apprentice shipwright) Bounty: Currently 0

Ryan s'est tourné vers Nikko et a lâché. "Bien sûr, je me joins à vous. Je n'ai rien de mieux à faire en ce moment et vous semblez plutôt cool. Je suis Ryan, c'est sympa de te rencontrer... et tu prends le boulet de canon, c'est cool je suppose." Ryan l'a laissée prendre le boulet de canon et siffler alors qu'elle le jetait sur le capitaine et ses hommes. Il marchait vers elle et le navire rapidement et souriait. "Bon coup. Comment vous appelez-vous déjà?" Il demanda à la poussière de rester dans son sentier alors qu'elle se précipitait vers le navire. Il a cligné deux fois et s'est précipité après elle. "Ne me quitte pas! Je n'aime pas ces stupides Marines!" Ryan a crié alors qu'il courait après elle.

Name: Ryan Chideta Height/Weight: 5"4, 110 Pounds Age: 22 Personality: Ryan is a very contradictory individual. He constantly pushes himself to the brinks of death as he trains constantly to become the best at what he does, but he can spend entire days doing absolutely nothing as he just lies down and stares at the sky. He's an easily excited individual who can never focus on one thing for long periods of time, but the dedication he puts into his marksmanship is rivaled by few. In battle though he seemingly becomes a new person as he pinpoints enemy weaknesses and environmental advantages and disadvantages. He doesn't talk during battle either, he instead let's his bullets do the talking. Few things faze him as he becomes a machine dedicated to his current goal. He can be serious outside of battle, he just prefers not to. His life motto is, "Life is already too serious. Why make it more so on purpose?" Home Island/Sea: East Blue History: Ryan was born on a pirate ship known as The Horsemen of War. They had kidnapped a prostitute and one of the crew members had a child with her. They kept it well hidden until the child was born, the crew killed the prostitute and the crew member. The captain, Quiet Shot, refused to kill the child and instead has the rest of the crew take care of him. The boy grew up fast, he learned to shoot with the best of them and every so often he went treasure hunting with the rest of the crew too. It was at the age of 13 that life changed for him. The Navy was finally cracking down on them and there were few people besides the captain left. Quiet Shot sent Ryan away on the last lifeboat as the Navy closed in on them, for the last time. Five years pass by and Ryan is hunting for treasure on an unnamed island in the middle of nowhere. He digs up a chest and after breaking it open he finds a bunch of fruit. He gets pretty pissed and throws a lot of it into the ocean. As he's about to throw the last piece his stomach growls and he realizes just how hungry he is. He has some fruit, so why not eat it. He immediately regretted that as he tasted oil mixed with dog crap. He swallowed it begrudgingly and almost immediately felt something wrong. He passed out for a bit, when he woke up his left arm was gone, with only oil spilled all over the beach sand. After about five minutes or so of panicking he began hoping and praying for his arm to be back, it began reforming out of the oil. He then realized exactly what happened. He had heard rumours of Devil Fruits from other pirates, he had just eaten one. Fast forward 6 years and he's traveling the seas in search of a worthy captain and a worthy goal. Fruit: Oiru-Oiru no Mi, Logia Class The Oiru-Oiru no Mi allows the user to turn into Oil, and use said oil for anything oil may be used for. The user can produce large amounts of oil and can liquefy their entire body if needed. If the user wanted to hide in a small bottle then they could, they could also power a vehicle with their own body if they wanted. Typical weaknesses apply, the user cannot float on water using the Oiru-Oiru Fruit. They will just solidify into their body and sink as usual. The major weakness of the fruit is the users own weakness to fire, when turned into oil they are highly flammable. Fighting style: Ryan uses guns, lots and lots of guns. While most people can only hold two guns, Ryan can form arms of oil to hold more guns and fire more bullets. He is also adept at reloading fast, but there is a limit to how much he can multitask. More complex tasks will require more attention, while simple things like loading and firing a gun is easy for him to do. He tries to stay away from the enemy, but he's no slouch in close combat. He uses typical Logia tactics like liquefying to avoid hits, but he also uses the oil he produces with incendiary bullets to create fires and in extreme cases, explosions. He keeps 10 guns on him at minimum at all times. Ship Positions: TBA, could be maintenance guy. Bounty: 0

Ignorez ça, la muse est un peu meh en ce moment et j'ai fait un pspst merdique

Name: Tristan S. Jasper Height: 5'4" Weight: 180lbs Appearance: (couldn't find a pic that worked) He's usually seen wearing a tan cloak with the hood down and a pair of red goggles usually just under his hair line. His hair is medium length and curls at the ends however there's usually a few stray strandd of hair that stick out and curl over in the front partially covering his goggles. He wears light brown light weight work boots. Under his cloak is a thin silk black long sleeve shirt and thin black leather gloves as well as thick black pants with turquoise padding over the pockets. Personality: He's quiet, kind, and gentle. He always has a smile on his face no matter what the situation is. When it comes to fight his calm and collected, his attacks are all precise to make up for his lack of strength. He also likes to collect all of the things he learns along his travels in journals and is quite skilled at assessing situations and making plans as well as changing plans quickly whenever something goes wrong. Home Island/Sea: Due to so much traveling in his life his home island is unknown but his home sea is East Blue History: Tristan S. Jasper lived his life for the most parts on the streets moving from town to town, island to island (whenever a nice captain would come along and allow him to hitch a ride). His chest and face had some scars on them. Since he never really had any money and wasn't very popular with..well people in general because of his beggar appearance people assumed he was some kind of beggar or thug. People often tossed him around, picked fights with him, and kicked him around, but he never fought back or did harsh things to anyone. Anytime he saw an opportunity to help someone he'd take it, never wanting only giving. Even though his life was harsh he always had a smile on his face. One day he noticed an old man on a road being jumped by a group of thugs so he jumped in used his body to shield the old man. The old man seeing his kindness offered to let him stay with him. A few years later Tristan was out with the old man on a food run when those thugs showed up again..this time in a larger group. In the fight he had decided to target one of the thugs who was bigger than the rest and was going on about how he was the strongest person. Once the boy saw an opening in the man's attack and reacted within almost the blink of an eye and he'd won the fight shortly after and the old man explain that this was the potential he had seen in him when they first met. All of this happened..let's say a good five years before where he starts in the rp. At this point he's just been traveling since the old man died. Fruit: No fruit Fighting style: His fighting style is one he developed over time. It relies mainly on dodging and countering. Assessing the enemies strengths and using them against him. It's completely hand to hand he never uses weapons, his impressive reaction time also helps him in his fighting. As for techniques he currently has two. Keen Eye in which he heightens his focus relying on all senses rather than just sight and sound to judge the enemies movements letting him react to their attacks with more accuracy and pinpoint which where in he puts more focus on sight to spot an enemies weak spot and deal more damge. Ship Position: Doesn't have one yet. Bounty: 0

Nabil laisse sortir un petit gémissement au commentaire de Marxo, son poing ferme sur son côté quand il a baissé la tête et l'a secoué. Il a brouillé, se dirigeant vers le bâtiment ruiné. Il a demandé avec un sourire faible. Les dommages collatéraux étaient sûrs d'ajouter quelque chose à son prix déjà impressionnant. Il entendit le Marine derrière lui murmurer, impressionné par ses capacités de fruits du diable, mais il ne lui montra aucune attention. C'était toujours plus déconcertant – au moins il le lui semblait – quand il ignorait ses adversaires. Il s'est frotté le cou à moitié en conversant avec son partenaire de façon décontractée. Tu as battu le capitaine aussi vite que ça? Peut-être que je perds mon avantage. Peut-être devrions-nous rejoindre cette équipe de couteau-oreilles du tout... Marxo serait probablement ramasser sur son sarcasme, pas beaucoup le pourraient. C'était un témoignage de leur amitié. Avec les yeux fixés sur le Marine, il avait remarqué les pieds agiles et a rétréci les yeux sur eux. Même l'adversaire de Marxo n'avait pas été aussi rapide ; il l'avait remarqué avec sa première grève. Ce bâtard de boulet aurait été facilement battu si ce n'était pour l'homme devant lui. L'homme devant lui était plus fort qu'il ne l'avait pensé. La main qu'il avait cousue dans sa poche sortit alors qu'il suivait la ligne de pêche passant au-dessus de Marxo et lui-même. Le crochet était assez fort pour soulever une épaisse dalle de terre et l'incliner vers lui. Nabil a pensé à l'exploser avec ses capacités, mais a opté pour simplement sortir de la voie avec une lune. En entrant dans une croûte, Nabil trouva à nouveau le Marine et tira ses aiguilles vers lui. Comme ils se rétrécissaient sur l'homme âgé, il serre son poing et les mélange en une grande lance. Sa main bougerait, suivrait le Marine, et la lance ferait de même avec une précision mortelle. Désolé... mais il semble que mon coéquipier soit impatient. Je vais mettre fin à ça maintenant.

Name: Nabil "The Calm" Valley Height/Weight: 5’9” / 142lbs Age: 18 The alias “The Calm” was given to Nabil due to his infallible ability to seem un-phased by most antagonist. Some assume that he hides an intelligence behind this composed wall. Those are lies. He is as smart as the next man, maybe a bit more so, but that’s mainly due to his innate caution. He knows when to shut his mouth and when to speak out against others. In that aspect, he travels in a gray area. Where one person’s reality is not his own, but instead an adjacent to what could have been. In other words, he attempts to empathize with others. His love for the sea is directly tied to his extensive love for freedom, which contradicts his abnormal caution. Home Island/Sea: Provestal Island. The son of two Marines, it was very unlikely that Nabil would later become a pirate. In fact, his parent’s loving nature left little to be desired. When the two were deployed, expecting to be gone for several years, he was sent to live with distant relatives on Provestal Island. A quaint, small place where a unnerving calm saturated the air. On the island he explored the deep woods that surrounded the small town. Finding interest in the giant wild life and floral. He couldn’t understand it for the longest, unwilling to show his ignorance he would remain that way for several months. When he finally asked his aunt and cousin, they explained that the oxygen levels on the island was abnormally high. He took those words to face value and continued finish his breakfast, a rather calm fascination now inside of him. By the age of thirteen, Nabil had seemingly become the living force of Provestal Isle’s calm. Though many had resided on the isle, not many could match his level of tranquil. When others were too afraid to enter the force, he would walk through the greenery, alongside the giant beasts, and gaze at the crater in its center. Every day he returned there, he felt the urge to delve inside grow stronger. It was like the sound of the careening waterfall hitting the dark bottom was a calling card. It beckoned for him to adventure below but caution staid his descent. At the age of fifteen, Provestal Isle was visited by a band of pirates. They washed ashore on a broken and shattered boat, the captain deeply worried about his crew. The island offered them shelter for three nights. Those three nights were filled with stories of stormy adventures and fanciful tales of the unnatural. Needless to say, Nabil was enticed by them. On the fourth night, the Marines surrounded the isle with a fleet of ranked officers. The Pirate Captain, who expressed his desire to not tangle the island up in his affairs had decided to give himself up. He left with his crew moments later. An hour had peacefully passed before cannon fire had begun to rain down. A scarce group of the pirates returned in tears, warning that the marines was going to kill them all, despite their surrender. Behind them, the marines trampled forward. Nabil and his cousin, along with others, were told to retreat to the forest. To let the beasts protect them as a last resort. As Nabil guided his cousin to the crater, he could hear the cries of villagers as some of the beasts prowled on them. Dark smoke soon billowed from the tree line, orange heat lined its treetops. Nabil believed his cousin and himself to be safe. That was until canon fire came dangerously close to them. Fear led him to trying to convince his cousin to dive into the crater with him; the promise of water below was not enough though. The boy, who was supposed to jump on three with him, had stayed on top, where canon fire had seared his face and tossed him out of sight. At the bottom of the cavern spring, Nabil immediately swore vengeance on the Marines. He followed the water to the mouth of the island, one that led out into the ocean. Once he returned back to the shore, he witnessed the pirate captain shackled and ready to be inhumanly executed. Nabil realized that the majority of the Marines had left during his long stay in the cavern and that only a few was left. He would have heroically saved the guy, if he had been so afraid. He was shot several times in the head before finally being left alone. Nabil waited until nightfall, when the sea was quiet and empty till he finally approached. The captain was dead but the beach was littered with members of his crew. As Nabil walked through, a bloodied hand grabbed him and instructed, with vexation in his voice, to avenge them. With that in mind, he told Nabil the location of a treasure near the inn in the village. The village was burned to the ground and Nabil had all but given up hope on finding anyone alive. They all had bullets in them, one for each alive he figured. Once to the treasure chest, he found a fruit inside. He bit it after a bit of hesitance and after spitting it out, found out it was a devil fruit. He became a 10,000 degrees human. Years later and he had become a pirate, one hell bent on getting in the marines way. Usually his actions were small, intervening with rookie marines in small towns and allowing the escape of other pirates. Though recently he hijacked a marine ship and sailed it to Reverse Mountain. Devil Fruit: Atsu Atsu no Mi (Hot Hot Fruit) Fighting style: Direct and brutish, Nabil fights in conjunction with his Hot Hot Fruit abilities. Landing searing blows and burning away those that stand in his way. He seems to know some form of martial arts, as he often lowers into a stance when fighting one on one. With all the potential of a Supenova. Nabil has the possibility to use Observation Haki, Arms Haki, and Conquerors Haki. Though these have not been explored and largely unseen. He will need immense training to bring these out of himself. Atsu Atsu no Spears Nabil shapes the heat that fumes from his body into several needles. He launches these needles at the speed of a musket's bullet and pierces those he's up against. With a cold calculation, he uses this technique to take out mass armies of weaklings. Though fast and effective, it pretty easy to dodge if you're perceptive. Ship Positions: - 10,000,000

Tristan regardait la femme qu'il combattait de près, sans remarquer l'homme qui se tenait à côté de lui, pour voir comment elle réagirait à son contre-mouvement. Il voit l'homme charger vers l'avant et l'attaquer en grincant les dents et en marmonnant à lui-même " Dammit cela va rendre les choses plus difficiles... " Il continue d'analyser la situation en observant ses mouvements et maintenant en observant les mouvements de l'homme. Tristan a remarqué qu'elle commençait à courir vers eux à une vitesse plus lente et a élevé sa garde dans la suspicion. Une fois qu'elle les lançait à une vitesse plus lente et amenait ses jambes vers le bas sur les deux, il se penchait sur le côté et poussait contre le fond de sa jambe en le déplaçant un peu puis en l'attrapeant. Alors que son pied glissa du mouvement, utilisant le mouvement pour fournir un levier pour la lancer sur les deux, il lui répondit. " J'ai dit que je n'étais pas un pirate... et que je peux m'occuper de toi tout seul, je ne voudrais pas être injuste contre toi! " Il regarde l'homme et bouge sa tête en essayant de le signaler pour courir vers la jetée et aider les combats là-bas. Tristan remodele sa position d'avant avec ses jambes serrées et un bras derrière lui et un devant lui. Il change alors rapidement de position plus détendue face à ses côtés avec une jambe un peu plus loin puis l'autre et ses bras détendues "Drons - nous danser alors m'dame? "

Name: Tristan S. Jasper Height: 5'4" Weight: 180lbs Appearance: (couldn't find a pic that worked) He's usually seen wearing a tan cloak with the hood down and a pair of red goggles usually just under his hair line. His hair is medium length and curls at the ends however there's usually a few stray strandd of hair that stick out and curl over in the front partially covering his goggles. He wears light brown light weight work boots. Under his cloak is a thin silk black long sleeve shirt and thin black leather gloves as well as thick black pants with turquoise padding over the pockets. Personality: He's quiet, kind, and gentle. He always has a smile on his face no matter what the situation is. When it comes to fight his calm and collected, his attacks are all precise to make up for his lack of strength. He also likes to collect all of the things he learns along his travels in journals and is quite skilled at assessing situations and making plans as well as changing plans quickly whenever something goes wrong. Home Island/Sea: Due to so much traveling in his life his home island is unknown but his home sea is East Blue History: Tristan S. Jasper lived his life for the most parts on the streets moving from town to town, island to island (whenever a nice captain would come along and allow him to hitch a ride). His chest and face had some scars on them. Since he never really had any money and wasn't very popular with..well people in general because of his beggar appearance people assumed he was some kind of beggar or thug. People often tossed him around, picked fights with him, and kicked him around, but he never fought back or did harsh things to anyone. Anytime he saw an opportunity to help someone he'd take it, never wanting only giving. Even though his life was harsh he always had a smile on his face. One day he noticed an old man on a road being jumped by a group of thugs so he jumped in used his body to shield the old man. The old man seeing his kindness offered to let him stay with him. A few years later Tristan was out with the old man on a food run when those thugs showed up again..this time in a larger group. In the fight he had decided to target one of the thugs who was bigger than the rest and was going on about how he was the strongest person. Once the boy saw an opening in the man's attack and reacted within almost the blink of an eye and he'd won the fight shortly after and the old man explain that this was the potential he had seen in him when they first met. All of this happened..let's say a good five years before where he starts in the rp. At this point he's just been traveling since the old man died. Fruit: No fruit Fighting style: His fighting style is one he developed over time. It relies mainly on dodging and countering. Assessing the enemies strengths and using them against him. It's completely hand to hand he never uses weapons, his impressive reaction time also helps him in his fighting. As for techniques he currently has two. Keen Eye in which he heightens his focus relying on all senses rather than just sight and sound to judge the enemies movements letting him react to their attacks with more accuracy and pinpoint which where in he puts more focus on sight to spot an enemies weak spot and deal more damge. Ship Position: Doesn't have one yet. Bounty: 0

Brenda regarde dans l'admiration comme Nikko, qui était dehors froid il y a quelques instants, lance ce gros canonball sans effort. Et lui offrir une place dans l'équipage? "Oui!" Brenda ne cache pas complètement son excitation, mais continue à un volume plus raisonnable "Je ne vous laisserai pas tomber, capitaine! Brenda Wirrit! C'est moi." Puis Brenda sprinte après Nikko, trébuchant un peu dans son excitation et se percutant doucement dans le dos de Nikko quand le capitaine s'arrête à nouveau.

Name: Brenda Wirrit Appearance: Height/Weight: 5', 90lbs Age: 19 Personality: Happy, upbeat and infinitely curious, Brenda tries her best to see the bright side in any situation. She panics easily, but quickly regains a manic sort of composure. She's more likely to act before thinking and deal with the consequences. The common tongue is her second language, so she sometimes misunderstands. Home Island/Sea: Okidou Island, East Blue. An island with large forests of strong trees, chiefly exported for shipmaking. The island's inhabitants take care to the forests to ensure they plant more trees than they cut down, to ensure future livelihood. The people have their own language. History: Brenda grew up on Okidou Island watching the varieties of ship arrive to buy the islands wood, amazed that pieces of her homeland would travel so far. She always wanted to find out how the ships were made. When she was nine, a storm sunk a ship near Okidou's coast. The people all helped out with the rescue. Much of the cargo was lost under the sea, but Brenda rowed her home-made raft out, swam down and found a watertight box containing a devil fruit, which she ate back at her 'secret hideout', a beach hut she also made herself. Brenda loved her amazing new powers, but the folk back home weren't quite so happy. The captain of the sunken ship was especially displeased, as he intended to trade the fruit for a large supply of wood, to supply his shipyard. Regardless, something about the young girl's passion for carpentry appealed to him, so he made a deal with Brenda's father. She would come with him to work off the cost of the fruit, learning a shipwright's trade. Ten years later, Brenda has finished paying off the fruit (Which also happened to be the day her tutor decided she'd learned all he could teach) and set out to explore the oceans, see new styles of carpentry. While she was working at the shipyard, Brenda took plenty of photographs (Some kind of snail-based camera?) to write letters home, and as a farewell gift the master of the shipyard gave her an empty book, to fill with memories of her journey. Fruit: Maze-Maze no Mi, AKA the Mix-Mix Fruit. Paramecia Type. Brenda has the ability to turn herself and other objects into a putty-like substance by rpidly kneading it with her hands. They turn back if left alone, but while transformed it can be mixed with another liquid or transformed substance, to combine the two. She can also separate the objects again by reaching 'in' and pulling it out. Common uses for Brenda include mixing a wooden plank into glue, to get a substance that's sticky and applyable by brush but hardens into a solid wooden coating, mixing a hammer into her hand for an iron punch, or mixing cloth with a sheet of metal to easily shape it, then remove the cloth and end up with metal in the required shape. The chief limitations on the ability are that Brenda can only transform an object small or light enough for her to lift, as she needs to use both hands to putty-ify something, and she is unable to use her ability on living creatures other than herself. Soaking combined objects in saltwater also unmixes them if done within the first few days, as the sea nullifies the devil-fruit power. It also has a tendancy to activate when Brenda is distracted or startled, mixing her with her gear. Her hat and hair often fuse as soon as she stops paying attention, giving her a hairstyle in the shape of a hat, with it's decorations mixed in. If Brenda trips into a pile of bricks, she may turn to putty and splatter into them, reforming herself very blocky. And she tends to wake up in the morning with a pillow for a head. Mix-Mix Combine Rapidly knead into putty and combine two or more objects. Mix-Mix Augment Combine an object with a part of her body, to boost herself somehow, or gain some measure of control over it. (e.g. Hammer fist, rope tail, telescope eyes) Mix-Mix Full Body Putty Brenda transforms her whole body into putty. Very limited mobility, but greatly increased defence. Needs to be in this state to use Mix-Mix Full Body augment Mix-Mix Full Body Augment Brenda combines her whole self with an object or objects. This needs a greater supply of objects to be effective, or else they are too diluted. Mix-Mix Separate Pull objects out of a Mix-Mix technique, restoring them to their original properties. So far, Brenda can only use Mix-Mix Separate on objects she's added to the mix herself. She may develop the ability to undo other mixtures or compounds in the future. As well as the size limitation, the more alive something is, the harder it is for Brenda to work on it. Something completely inorganic is the easiest, with 'dead' organic matter such as a plank, cloth or a steak being only a little harder. A living plant is the limitation of her ability. Animals or people (Other than herself) are beyond Brenda's capabilities to alter. For now, anyway. Fighting style: Brenda is not a skilled fighter, but if pressured into a fight her style would be best described as 'wild brawling'. She throws whatever is to hand, mixes tools into herself for extra punching power and crawls under tables, over chairs and slams doors in faces or dumps pots on heads. She's no match for a skilled fighter, but can keep an amateur off guard long enough to escape. If cornered, she'd probably try setting something on fire. Ship Position: Assistant Shipwright Bounty: Insignificant (May have picked up a few hundred for petty crimes in local jurisdictions, but nothing that would cross a sea)

M a r x o Marxo a remarqué que la ligne de pêche était liée à la fin d'une arme surchauffée. Il semblait qu'il allait l'utiliser pour voler quelque chose à Nabil. Tout comme il pensait qu'un morceau de gravier s'est envolé vers Nabil, la ligne et le crochet étaient tous deux reliés à elle. Il a remarqué que Nabil s'éloignait du chemin, mais a décidé de se montrer un peu en détruisant le rocher avec un coup de poing puissant. Nous sommes maintenant sergent. N'est-ce pas un peu au-dessous de vous?, il a ri de Nabil, remarque antérieure comme il a coaxé le marine. Ce n'est pas un 2 sur 1 et à moins que vous vouliez qu'il se transforme en Je vous suggère d'équiper vos lunettes et de regarder où vous lancez.

Marxo St. Laurant Height/Weight: 6’1, 160lbs Age:19 Personality: Marxo is quite calm and collected. He tends to speak in a very collective manner. Even in dire situation, he is always the one to keep his cool. He thinks it would better help the situation if he acts this way. It is often hard to make him made but not impossible. The most two major things that upset him are being turned down by females and running out of smokes. Other than that he remains almost monotone, from his voice, personality, and mindset. His persona is due to his past. Its almost like he has a split personality . His other half is a maniacal , senseless man with no disregard to human kind. His only interest in that time is seeing everything colored red with the blood of this enemies. Home Island/Sea: St Laurants’ Isle,South Blue History: Marxo was born in the East Blue . His family had traveled to the South almost immediately after he was born. They settled on a deserted island and used the wildlife to live off of. His mother happened to be a master chef but not one of legend and lore. His father on the other hand was a hunter so this made the couple well adept to their surrounding. Within the first three years of Marxo’s life his parents had already tamed the island and renamed the newly cultivated place St. Laurant’s isle after his family. At 7 he was taught how to hunt alongside his father. it seem to come naturally to the boy. his first catch was a friendly panda shark whom his father told him to release back into the sea. After all his mother had no use for such meat. At the age of 14 ,he met his first neighbors. They had also traveled from an island off in the distance. From first sight they seemed like nice people, but eventually more unwelcomes began to turn up. Marxo saw this as a good thing but his parents knew better. They decided to establish a hierarchy with Marxo’s family heading the pack. This was agreeable since they were the first one aboard the island, but one family had different plans. They wanted the St. Laurant’s lifestyle , or better yet their lives. So one day the cooked up a scheme to take out this new head family. Since the St. Laurants’ did all of the hunting and cooking the other family decided that taking the load off of them for a day would be the best way to trick the family. It seemed like a convenience to Marxo and his family so they gladly accepted the invitation. The other would hunt and prepare a monstrous feast for the now,small village and the heads of the village but inside of the meals that they could would be either sleeping or paralyzing powder. On the night Marxo was turning 15 . He could never forget this night. It would be forever burned into his mind. His parents had been gutted like fishes in front of his very eyes. They had received the sleeping powder while he the paralyzing one. He knew they never stood a chance but he begged and pleaded with the other family. They just smiled and kept cutting till his parents resembled carved turkey. He knew he’d be next. Just as they made their way towards him , the powder began to wear off. He could feel the blood rushing in his hands, then to his arms , and legs. Next came the pain. Tears swelled up in his eyes , as he continued to play helpless. As soon as the family made its move he’d destroy them. The father began to untie his hands. The moment he felt free he took the chair his was once sitting in and slammed it across the man’s face. He then picked up a piece of broken wood the chair and ran it like a dagger straight thru his heart. He stared at the other two women with soul-less eyes. “Your next.”, he exclaimed as he rushed towards them both with the same piece of wood he’d taken the man out with previously. He stabbed the women repeatedly until he was satisfied and passed out from exhaustion. A few hours later he awoke to find himself on a slave tradeship, along with his fellow neighbors. The boat was headed for the east blue. He would spend the next 2 years as a cook aboard a floating restaurant in the sea until his killer mentality got the best of him and he slayed the entire crew. Before deserting the emptied cafe he’d stumbled upon an odd fruit. Upon eating the fruit his body began to turn into shadows. He later came to find out it was the “Yami Yami no Mi” fruit. For the next two years he trained and study everything he could find about the fruit .He truly wants to learn how to fully control the fruit and manipulate it to help him become a pirate. Fruit: Moa Moa no Mi: The Moa Moa no Mi is a Paramecia-class Devil Fruit that allows the user to amplify the size or speed of any object they touch. More More Sanjubai Giri (モアモア百倍斬り Moa Moa Hyaku-bai Giri, literally meaning "More More Thirtyfold Slash"): enlarges a scythe to 30 times its original size while it's flying towards his opponent. More More Jubai Soku (モアモア十倍速 Moa Moa Jū-bai Soku, literally meaning "More More Tenfold Speed"): increases speed to 10 times original speed, More More Sanjubai Soku (モアモア三十倍速 Moa Moa Sanjū-bai Soku, literally meaning "More More Thityfold Speed"): increases his speed to 30 times his original speed. Fighting style: Jeet Kune Do(Wing Chun)- not fixed or patterned, and is a philosophy with guiding thoughts. It was named for the Wing Chun concept of interception or attacking while one's opponent is about to attack. Jeet Kune Do practitioners believe in minimal movements with maximum effects and extreme speed. The system works by using different "tools" for different situations, where the situations are divided into ranges, which are kicking, punching, trapping, and grappling, where martial artists use techniques to flow smoothly between them. Ship Position: Tba. -For the Death and Desecration of an Entire Island -Deaths of a Cook Captain and crewmembers.

"Tu n'as pas le droit de mourir" La respiration peu profonde pouvait être entendue derrière le masque de Leonard. Même s'il était médecin, et un sacré bon en termes d'habileté, il manquait encore un facteur décisif pour pouvoir gérer quelque chose comme ça. Expérience. Un chirurgien vétéran ne voulait pas voir un corps mutilé, et il n'était certainement pas un vétéran. Alors qu'il finissait de traiter le genou, les nausées, le malaise et le manque de confiance ont commencé à faire leur mal. Peu de temps après, il avait l'air de ne pas avoir mangé depuis un mois, et ses mains tremblaient alors qu'il commençait à recoudre la plaie. Le saignement a été arrêté, la balle a disparu, et les souillures du genou ont été déplacées ou remises en place s'il croyait qu'elles guériraient assez bien ensemble. Debout, ses jambes tremblaient alors qu'il ramassait ses affaires, plusieurs seringues et scalpels qui se déplaçaient, luttant pour se couvrir de son manteau. Il espérait avoir réussi à sauver la jambe de l'homme, au moins. Se sentant comme s'il allait s'envoler, il était sur le point de nettoyer le sang de ses gants avant que Nikko ne vienne le prier. En fait, elle l'a loué pour avoir fait quelque chose d'aussi stupide et imprudent que de sauver quelqu'un qui était prêt à le tuer. Une légère teinte de rouge, cachée par son masque en fer noir, surgissait sur ses joues alors qu'il souriait. "Merci, je n'ai pas été facile, mais je pense qu'il va s'en sortir." il a expliqué, les jambes tremblent toujours et la plupart des bégaiements provenant de ses dents bavardant. Il était aussi nerveux qu'il pouvait l'être. Puis elle l'a ramassé et l'a jeté sur son dos. Confus comme tout le monde s'en va, il a un peu échoué pendant qu'elle courait, se rendant compte qu'elle avait toujours l'intention de l'avoir dans son équipage. Démissionner lui-même, il l'a laissé le porter. Il en avait assez pour un jour à ce moment-là.

Name: Leonard Siegfriedt Appearance: (Ignore the gun, his pansy ass probably couldn't even lift it) Height/Weight: 5’2, 112 lbs. Age: 19 Personality: While Leonard may seem like a rather grim person, that’s just a misconception most people would get from his clothing. He’s actually rather shy, and tries to hide as much of himself from others as he can, hence the hood and the faceguard. He’s actually a lot nicer than you’d take him for, difficult to anger and easy to please. As a doctor, he believes it to be his duty to help the unwell, and can’t stand to see people suffer when he can do something to help. Even though he has Hypochondriasis. Home Island: North Blue, Principality of Eurijk History: To understand why Leonard is the way he is, it’s more important to know who his parents were, or rather, parent. A woman by the name of Charlotte Siegfriedt, infamously known as the Plague Woman. A person who consumed a rather odd Devil-Fruit by the name of the Toru-Toru no Mi, the Thieving fruit. Despite the powerful nature of the fruit, Charlotte solely used the innately malicious power of the fruit to, rather than steal things such as other’s organs or lives, instead stole from them their ailments, their weariment, their sickness, and their afflictions. Truly a saint, Charlotte traveled the world, willing to help whoever she could save by using her own body as the host for innumerable viruses. Doing so was no easy task for her, however. The pain was unbearable at times, with several fevers racking her body every week, sometimes hitting at the same time. Were it not for her strong conviction to help others, she likely would have died in her sleep countless times. Naturally, carrying that many ailments would shorten one’s lifespan dramatically, and as such, she was fated to die by the age of 30, if not sooner. Doing what she could with her remaining time, she travelled the North Blue, where she was already infamous for having eliminated the lethal Muave Pox that spread through it years before; infamous for being the only known carrier of it. As such, she was shunned and nearly stoned to death several times, resulting in the loss of one of her eyes. From there, Leonard isn’t sure of how he came to be. He isn’t sure who his father is, or how an infant was able to be born without getting deathly ill from a woman like his mother. But what he did know was that his mother was dying every moment he was with her. It was a terrifying experience for the boy, knowing that his mother would die soon. But he never expected the day she would leave their make-shift home in the middle of the swamp-land region of Eurijk. Without a word of goodbye besides a letter telling Leonard to live honestly, his mother vanished. Sailing off to sea, she perished in the middle of the sea somewhere, her body drifting to the bottom of the sea with her host of plagues. Terribly saddened and alone, Leonard soon declined into depression, cursing the world that there was never anyone who could cure his mother of her illnesses. Now alone in the world, Leonard studied tirelessly to perfect medicines of his own concoction, using himself and various animals around the area to test his brews. One of those concoctions also happened to nearly blow his entire home to pieces, resulting in the left side of his face to be burned quite severely. Years later, without a penny to his name, he set off into the world to cure the incurable, more than aware of his dream being absolutely ridiculous. But then...a world free of sickness never was his own dream. It was his mother’s. Fighting Style: Do No Harm Despite his Hippocratic Oath, Leonard understands perfectly well that in this violent world, conflict is inevitable. While not a proficient hand-to-hand fighter, he has the knowledge required to dislocate someone’s bones if given enough of an opening, as well as having amazingly precise and steady hands. Combined with his accurate vision, he is able to throw scalpels like throwing knives with a great deal of precision. Crew Position: Doctor Bounty: 0 Others: Wears his faceguard more to hide his face than to keep from catching something, despite his frightfully strong immune system. While he does have the potential to have rather strong Observation Haki, he is currently unaware of Haki's existence, and has no idea how to use it. Character Theme

Sylas Cette femme ne comprenait pas à quel point son adversaire était grand. Sylas n'a fait qu'un soupir déçu alors qu'elle sautait pour éviter son sol en verre en expansion. « Vous, les marins, n'avez pas compris », a commenté Sylas avant de remarquer que Hanna lui avait fait un coup de fouet très direct pour une attaque. Le jeune ex-capitaine a élevé ses épées de verre en forme de X, bloquant son sabre au prix de leurs lames. La collision a brisé les deux épées mais a suffisamment dévié l'épée d'Hanna pour empêcher Sylas de nuire. Dans ce bref moment, le temps semblait ralentir. Les sabres des épées viennent de s'accrocher en l'air alors que la femme marine a encore une fois visé son pistolet à Sylas. "Je ne serai pas vaincu." Le pirate a filé autour de son axe et s'est penché en arrière, secouant le chemin du but d'Hanna juste avant qu'elle tire. Le verre qui s'était cassé et qui s'était jeté autour de l'air a commencé à se déplacer, étant manipulé et tiré en arrière vers Sylas. Les deux sabres cassées qu'il tenait ont commencé à attirer le verre, reformant les lames comme s'ils n'avaient jamais cassé en premier lieu. Tout le temps qu'il a continué sa rotation pour faire un cercle complet, face à l'air et vulnérable Hanna. "Souviens-toi de mon nom." Dans une démonstration de vitesse et de brutalité, Sylas a apporté les deux sabres sur son côté droit, créant une coupe profonde en forme de X le long de sa section médiane droite. Un coup pour mettre fin à un combat, sûrement, mais pas nécessairement mortel. Le verre sur le sol qui se déplaçait pour la capturer avait cessé ses activités, devenant tout simplement des planchers inanimés. Les sabres sanglantes sont tombées au sol alors que Sylas a déplacé ses deux mains pour enlever considérablement ses lunettes avant de frapper une pose sur le marine vaincu. "Sylas Maison, la prochaine grande légende." Il a remis ses lunettes, prenant un moment pour regarder Hanna pour s'assurer qu'elle n'essaierait pas de l'attaquer à nouveau. Elle semblait tenace, après tout, et une épée dans le dos serait un excellent moyen pour elle de se venger.

Name: "Shattering" Sylas Maison Height/Weight: 6'0" (182cm) / 170lbs (77.1kg) Age: 20 Personality: Eccentric and emotional, Sylas is known for being an overly melodramatic fellow. Prone to telling tale tales of grand feats he may or may not have ever accomplished, his flair for drama is second-to-none. He always strives to be interesting and unique, making it easy to spot him in a crowd by looks and sound alone. He is often written off as crazy by those that meet him, especially after they see what he is capable of. Sylas is as impulsive as they come, and accordingly unpredictable. He always strives to amaze those around him with feats of power or compassion, to be recognized as a man worthy of legend. At the very least his wierdness is legendary, but getting that point across to Sylas is impossible. Nobody looks up to Sylas more than Sylas himself. He is infallible in his own eyes and he won't stop until everyone else sees him that way too. Home Island/Sea: West Blue History: Born to Captain Ismael Maison of the Firefly Pirates, Sylas was immersed in the world of swashbuckling from a very young age. Though the Firefly Pirates and consequently Captain Ismael were nothing impressive that didn't stop the enigmatic leader to present grandiose tales to his son. Enamored with his unrealistic and romaticized view of piracy, young Sylas aimed to follow the footsteps of his father and become a legend (despite the fact his father's name was unheard of outside the West Blue). He spent his entire life on board the Firefly's ship, Chain Breaker, training to take the reigns from his father one day as the captain of the crew. When Sylas was fourteen he encountered the Hari Hari no Mi. And encountered is the correct word, as he saw the fruit on board an enemy ship while the crew was raiding it. Being he was hungry at the time he ate it without a second thought. It was only after Ismael questioned where the Devil Fruit was that it was realized Sylas had eaten it. This temporarily put a damper on crew relations, but it was found that Sylas was an even greater asset to the crew now. He was no longer just the captain's kid but now a useful member. Granted his odd personality didn't make him exactly likable. He trained to use his new abilities to the max, believing that they would be key to his future legends. Over time he became the powerhouse of the Firefly Pirates, surpassing anyone else on board by leagues. At nineteen his father finally grew ill and passed away (likely scurvy), leaving Sylas in charge of the Firefly Pirates rather than the more popular first mate, Hopper. Taking it to heart, Sylas immediately declared they would head to the Grand Line. As they made their way across the West Blue, slowly but surely, the crew grew dissatisfied with Sylas's style of leadership. They no longer pillaged towns or raided islands, instead marauding only other pirate crews. After three months they couldn't take it any longer. Following an overly-eccentric twentieth birthday party for Sylas, the crew immediately mutinied. Led by the former first mate, the mutiny forced Sylas to walk the plank. As a Devil Fruit user, this surely meant he would die. But quick thinking and the Hari Hari no Mi powers allowed him to create a small boat. Using his incredible strength and a single paddle, Sylas escaped his former comrades by fleeing towards a nearby island. Or so he thought. His sense of navigation wasn't very spot on and instead Sylas had traversed into the nearby Calm Belt. In a feat of fear-fueled stamina, Sylas managed to paddle his way across the calm belt and onto the Grand Line. With no food or water, Sylas found himself close to death before spotting Reverse Mountain and the Town of Contradiction. After arriving at the port he was given some food and water by sympathetic locals. It took only a day to recover his strength, in which Sylas was immediately indebted and forced to work off the bills for the food he had eaten. This brings us to today, two days after Sylas had arrived at the Town of Contradiction... Fruit: Known as the Glass-Glass Fruit, it is a Paramecia type Devil Fruit that grants the user the ability to create glass at a rapid pace and to manipulate existing glass under certain conditions. Notably not Logia class as users cannot turn themselves into glass nor are they invulnerable to physical attacks. The glass created by a Hari Hari no Mi user can have various properties as determined at the time of creation, though for existing glass to be manipulated it must be untempered and have no stain. The glass created can only ever be in a crystal, solid state though it may be structured to appear liquid. Liquid glass can also be manipulated, if pure and unstained, despite not being able to be produced by the user. The thicker the glass, the longer it takes to create. Glass can only be created from the user's body, but glass that is being manipulated has a much longer range. Most common uses of the Hari Hari no Mi are to create weapons or structures of glass, usually thick so as not to be broken easily. The fragile nature of thin glass makes it a great weapon for slicing even when broken, though thin glass is also useful for manipulating light. A skilled user can create illusions with cleverly manipulated glass and even a an unskilled user could reflect sunlight to blind foes. There are a wide range of possibilities with the Hari Hari no Mi, though it is not without weaknesses. Even the thickest glass is weaker than the equivalent thickness of steel, and due to the crystalline nature of untempered glass it is prone to fracture with ease if it is not made to be especially thick (and even then it is not on par with an identical weapon/structure made of metal). Due to the nature of Busoshoku Haki, Hari Hari no Mi glass of any thickness is shattered with ease if struck by it. Consequently, Busoshoku Haki can be imbued into the glass created if the user is adept with Haki, negating the Haki weakness to a degree. Fighting style: Sylas is a powerhouse, exhibiting incredible strength and the capability to wield absurdly large weapons of his own creation. Though agile in his own right he will stick to his greatest strength: strength. Sylas primarily fights using glass weapons, such as hammers and swords, but his style is just as versatile as his Devil Fruit. Though he is capable of fighting without his Devil Fruit powers, he does lack martial art skills and has to rely on pure physical capability to get by. Sylas is capable of using Busoshoku (Arms) and Kenbunshoku (Observation) Haki to certain degrees, though he reserves this ability. Hari Hari no Hammerfall Sylas creates an absurdly large hammer of glass, over twice his own size, and swings it down with enough force to annihilate the hammer and usually most anything in its path. This can be considered his signature technique and has attributed to his epithet, for the shattering hammer. This technique can be used alternatively, to allow extended use of the hammer by not immediately smashing it. Hari Hari no Great Hammerfall An enlarged version of his signature technique. Sylas creates an even more absurdly large hammer, this time large enough smash an entire building or even a ship. Notably takes more time to create the weapon and it is much more unwieldy in his hands. Only ever good for one attack. Hari Hari no Saber A large glass sword is created. Though fragile and easy to break, it is incredibly sharp. When it is broken the shattered pieces are capable of causing further damage. Sylas can repair the blade in order to extend how long it can be useful. Hari Hari no Windmill Two meter-long, six-point throwing stars are created and flung at the enemy. Due to Sylas's ability to control the glass they will give chase and home in on the desired target until broken beyond use or they hit their mark. Much like the Saber they are incredibly sharp and breaking them still has a probability of taking damage. Hari Hari no Geyser An eruption of thick and spiky layers of glass form from Sylas's feet, stabbing foes and repelling attacks. Due to the thickness of the glass it is less sharp and not as likely to completely slice through opponents, but it is more resilient and can withstand stronger attacks as well as still being able to harm whoever was in the blast zone. Hari Hari no Anchor By creating a sheet of glass across the ground (or oceanwater, if out at sea) and underneath a foe (or opposing ship), Sylas can trap his enemy. Once the glass reaches underneath the enemy it will grow upwards to anchor them in place. For humanoid foes this only requires reaching up to the waist to completely halt their leg movement, and for ships at seat it simply requires getting completely underneath and surrounding it only by a few feet (which is more than enough to completely remove the ship from the water). Hari Hari no Mirror One of Sylas's weaker moves, as it does not usually fit his style and is thus not often used or practiced. Sylas creates a pane of glass, warped to just the right angle to reflect the brightest light source available (usually the sun) and project it in the direction of his enemy to temporarily blind them. Hari Hari no Mist Two balls of glass are created before being broken (throwing, crushing, smashing, doesn't matter), causing them to explode into many tiny shards of glass. Controlling the direction of the spray can create a painful diversion for his foes, potentially blinding them (the permanent kind of blind). Hari Hari no Laser Using a large, circular disk of glass, Sylas focus sunlight onto a specific point via refraction and magnification. This is used to cause fires on anything wooden, and only requires a few seconds of accurate aiming once the disk is properly aligned with the sun. *Note* Due to the versatile nature of the Hari Hari no Mi, there are many more possibilities of use other than those listed above. This list is to cite the most common and most notable techniques, though more may be added as Sylas expands his uses. Ship Positions: TBA (Former Captain of the Firefly Pirates) Bounty: 3,000,000 Berries

-Main STREET - -Main STREET - -Main STREET - -Main STREET - -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET -Main STREET La capitainene semblait plutôt intriguée par ses mouvements et avait même un léger sourire sur son visage. Se brosser les cheveux de son visage et réajuster ses lunettes elle prend aussi une position latérale. "Tu es plutôt bon. On dirait que je ne peux pas me retenir contre toi." Elle tient toujours son sourire de gingembre, elle tire ses deux chaussures une à la fois. Aucune des chaussures lourdes n'a été lancée à Tristin. La première a atterri sur un tonneau de grain et il a cassé le tonneau immédiatement. Le second a atterri dur sur la rue pavée en creusant les pierres. Elle se tient maintenant pieds nus dans la rue et apprécie le sentiment de la terre nue sous elle. "Ce combat vient de commencer... ou alors j'aimerais vous le dire." Elle soupire alors qu'elle regarde vers la taverne. Une explosion massive de canons avait propulsé l'autre capitaine de marine dans la ville et elle ne pensait pas qu'il se relèverait bientôt. Elle regarde la bande de pirates qui arrive sous la direction de Nikko. "Je n'ai pas vraiment envie d'essayer de prendre autant de pirates à la fois par moi-même. D'ailleurs, on dirait qu'on pourrait avoir besoin de moi au port aussi. Je suppose que je te verrai là-bas." Elle éternue. Avec un timbre de son talon, elle semble presque disparaître alors qu'elle bouge incroyablement vite. Sa vitesse n'était rien à renifler avant, mais maintenant elle est incroyable. Le changement soudain de rythme prend Tristin hors de garde et elle pose son pied droit à l'inte qu'il centre de sa poitrine. "Voulez-vous aider une dame?" Elle dit juste avant de lancer la poitrine de Tristan et de se lancer dans l'air atterrissant plusieurs maisons loin. Avec grâce, elle atterrit dans un arrière-plan et saute de nouveau vers le port qui atteint sa destination assez rapidement. Nikko arrive aux endroits où les batailles venaient d'avoir lieu il n'y a pas longtemps. Elle voit le corps d'un marin avec une morsure de requin. Le bras détaché s'étendait sur le chemin à côté de deux hommes qui portaient des insignes de lieutenant. Il y avait aussi un certain nombre d'autres marins blessés et le dernier commandant de relève combattait deux hommes à la fois. Soudain, elle sauta après avoir repéré Nikko et les autres venant vers eux. "Bon sang." Nikko exhale. Elle enquête sur l'épave et pose Leonard. Elle avait pour la plupart ignoré ses protestations jusqu'à ce point. "On dirait qu'on a raté la fête. Et cette femme, je ne pense pas qu'elle se soit retirée par peur. Je pense qu'il va se passer quelque chose dans le port. Tout le monde est prêt pour ce que ça peut être?" Elle demande au groupe qui était avec elle. Puis elle se tourne face aux nouveaux aussi. "On dirait que vous vous êtes battus avec mon 1er pote. C'est un gros gars. C'est un requin. Difficile à manquer. Quoi qu'il en soit, si l'un d'entre vous s'était battu à ses côtés, vous êtes les bienvenus pour vous joindre à moi et aux autres pour s'occuper de ce bordel au port. » "Oh..." elle s'arrête quand Ryan lui a demandé son nom. "C'est Nikko. Ravi de vous rencontrer." Elle tient sa main pour serrer la sienne. "Je serais heureux d'avoir toute l'aide que nous pouvons obtenir ici en un rien de temps. Je pense que nous devrions probablement continuer." Elle rétrécit les yeux et le groupe se dirigea une fois de plus vers le port. Arrivé juste après la femme qui s'était battue avec Tristan. LE PORT Marxo et Nabil étaient toujours face à l'ancien sergent. Ils ont peut-être remarqué l'autre capitaine qui était arrivé sur les lieux quelques instants plus tôt, mais ils ne semblaient pas lui donner l'esprit. Nabil lui-même a commencé à faire une arme mélangée de ses propres mains et le sergent préparait quelque chose lui-même. Pas quelque chose de spécial, mais simplement un kempo à l'air d'une position de combat. "Vous deux... allez devenir dangereux si je ne vous arrête pas." Le vieil homme dit. "Mais comme vous êtes en ce moment, ça ne me dérange pas de faire une 2 v 1. Bien qu'à ce stade il ne restera pas longtemps comme ça. Mon deuxième meilleur élève s'est réveillé et je doute qu'il vous facilite les choses, même si vous réussissez le miracle de me vaincre. » La lune s'est produite rapidement et il s'est soutenu. Les lances l'ont suivi et certains lui ont gratté la poitrine en faisant une longue marque de brûlure chantée. La chemise du sergent allume le feu et il la jette rapidement sur le côté en atterrissant à plusieurs mètres de sa position de départ. Il est plutôt musclé, mais surtout couvert de cicatrices. "Eh bien, c'est intelligent." Il dit regarder sa nouvelle cicatrice. "Votre capacité est assez agaçante. Il a même été endommagé par un poteau de pêche." Avec un timbre de son pied le plancher bâbord craque et le vieil homme fait une attaque de poussée qui gère une onde de choc. C'est un peu comme l'épée volante frappe de l'impressionnant sabre, mais au lieu de cela, c'est un coup de palmier émoussé qui traverse l'air dirigé vers Nabil. Hanna a été battue après avoir été coupée en plusieurs fois. Elle n'a pas eu tant de chance de commencer par mais elle a eu assez de talent pour se tenir au moins. Elle a entendu son nom encore une fois avant de perdre conscience sur le terrain. La victoire devrait être courte à mesure que la capitaine féminine aux lunettes arrive sur la scène juste à temps pour assister à la défaite d'Hanna. La femme est très grande, plus de six pieds, avec de longs cheveux blonds et est notamment pieds nus. "Hanna?" Elle s'évanouit mais ne s'approche pas. Il semble que quelque chose d'autre ait aussi attiré son attention. "Rickshaw..." Elle regardait maintenant le capitaine tête de lit qui avait atterri sur le port il y a quelques instants. Il se tenait à côté du grand Fishman qui venait d'arriver. Le jeune homme qui venait de sauter du navire avec la tête de perle se casse les épaules et regarde les combats qui se déroulent dans le port. Il gratte le chaume sur son menton et semble légèrement intéressé. Cependant, avant trop longtemps, il repère l'imposant pêcheur de requin qui venait d'arriver. "Oh? Vous avez l'air fort. Tu peux m'aider à me réveiller? Un grand type comme toi doit se battre dedans?" Il le demande de façon plutôt décontractée. C'est déconcertant à quel point il est calme. Non, c'est au-delà du calme, c'est... c'est éparpillé.

Name: Nikko Tenchi Appearance: Height/Weight: 5ft'7in/ enough Age: Appears to be about 18. Personality: While in public she seems well put together and confident in private she is often childish and stubborn. She is headstrong no matter where she is however. Once her mind is made up it would take an act of god to change it. In fact if history provides any reference even that might not. While generally a happy-go-lucky kind of person she has hot blood running through her veins. She may break tables or throw things through walls when she gets angry (or just drunk). It is her inquisitive and curious mind that rules her passion. Her favorite thing to do is to experiment or tinker with things. She has a vast desire to know how things work and to replicate them herself. Her collar and gloves are made with her inventing in mind. Her goggles, which are of her own invention stay on her head without any support at all. She can move them around where she needs and will often bring them down over her eyes during a fight that seems dangerous. Home Island/Sea: Taiko Island History: I am breaking my own rule slightly as some of her past has to do with the overall plot. But in the recent year she has made her name adventuring a bit through different parts of the grand line. While never declaring herself as a pirate per-se she has always considered herself one ever since she has left home which was a year and a half ago. Since then she has met plenty of people. Roughly one month ago she met a person who rivaled her in strength. It was a massive shark fishman hailing from the Wano Country. They initially didn't like each other as he was a bit rude and didn't have the proper respect for women that she felt she deserved. They got into no less than three fights before drawing the attention of a prominent pirate of the area. The two were forced to work together to escape. However in the rush they found themselves stuck in the calm belt. Having spent three days in the calm belt fighting off sea kings and running like hell they managed to pop out in west blue. From there they found a pirate with a bounty worth only a million. It was hardly even effort to take down this man and his crew but it did provide them with enough spending money to ferry a ride with a group of people heading into the grand line. Fruit: None Fighting style: Brawling. Despite her petite figure she is actually incredibly physically strong. Her punch packs a hell of a wallop and her speed is nothing to sniff at. Her style of fighting doesn't follow any particular martial art and is mostly self taught. However despite this self taught style she incorporates moves from several different arts into her own. For example many of her punches seem to be a mix between the way Karate and Boxing punch. However the movements are more fluid and natural than stylized. Many of her kicks seem to come from Tae Kwan do or Muai Thai. She knows how to grapple and throw as well. Her grip is strong enough to stop most ships and the gloves that she wear are made of an incredible material that doesn't seem to rip or tear no matter how much pressure and tension she puts on them. Haki of Observation is her most powerful Haki at this point. She has useage of the Haki of Armament as well. Ship Positions: Captain/Shipwright (looking for apprentice shipwright) Bounty: Currently 0

"Bon de vous rencontrer Nikko! Je suis Ryan!" Ryan s'est serré la main et a commencé à regarder autour. Il sourit même en voyant le carnage autour de lui. Il avait vu bien pire avant, en enfer, il avait fait bien pire avant. La vie d'un pirate était violente. Il a regardé Leonard et a ri. "C'est un drôle de masque. Je t'aime bien. Mon nom est Ryan! Quel est votre nom?" Il tendit la main pour se serrer la main et sourit encore plus. Il a ensuite remarqué que Nikko se déplaçait de nouveau et il l'a suivie, en envoyant une vrille d'huile pour s'assurer que Leonard s'en tenait à lui, ce par quoi je veux dire qu'il a pris Leonard et l'a emmené au port.

Name: Ryan Chideta Height/Weight: 5"4, 110 Pounds Age: 22 Personality: Ryan is a very contradictory individual. He constantly pushes himself to the brinks of death as he trains constantly to become the best at what he does, but he can spend entire days doing absolutely nothing as he just lies down and stares at the sky. He's an easily excited individual who can never focus on one thing for long periods of time, but the dedication he puts into his marksmanship is rivaled by few. In battle though he seemingly becomes a new person as he pinpoints enemy weaknesses and environmental advantages and disadvantages. He doesn't talk during battle either, he instead let's his bullets do the talking. Few things faze him as he becomes a machine dedicated to his current goal. He can be serious outside of battle, he just prefers not to. His life motto is, "Life is already too serious. Why make it more so on purpose?" Home Island/Sea: East Blue History: Ryan was born on a pirate ship known as The Horsemen of War. They had kidnapped a prostitute and one of the crew members had a child with her. They kept it well hidden until the child was born, the crew killed the prostitute and the crew member. The captain, Quiet Shot, refused to kill the child and instead has the rest of the crew take care of him. The boy grew up fast, he learned to shoot with the best of them and every so often he went treasure hunting with the rest of the crew too. It was at the age of 13 that life changed for him. The Navy was finally cracking down on them and there were few people besides the captain left. Quiet Shot sent Ryan away on the last lifeboat as the Navy closed in on them, for the last time. Five years pass by and Ryan is hunting for treasure on an unnamed island in the middle of nowhere. He digs up a chest and after breaking it open he finds a bunch of fruit. He gets pretty pissed and throws a lot of it into the ocean. As he's about to throw the last piece his stomach growls and he realizes just how hungry he is. He has some fruit, so why not eat it. He immediately regretted that as he tasted oil mixed with dog crap. He swallowed it begrudgingly and almost immediately felt something wrong. He passed out for a bit, when he woke up his left arm was gone, with only oil spilled all over the beach sand. After about five minutes or so of panicking he began hoping and praying for his arm to be back, it began reforming out of the oil. He then realized exactly what happened. He had heard rumours of Devil Fruits from other pirates, he had just eaten one. Fast forward 6 years and he's traveling the seas in search of a worthy captain and a worthy goal. Fruit: Oiru-Oiru no Mi, Logia Class The Oiru-Oiru no Mi allows the user to turn into Oil, and use said oil for anything oil may be used for. The user can produce large amounts of oil and can liquefy their entire body if needed. If the user wanted to hide in a small bottle then they could, they could also power a vehicle with their own body if they wanted. Typical weaknesses apply, the user cannot float on water using the Oiru-Oiru Fruit. They will just solidify into their body and sink as usual. The major weakness of the fruit is the users own weakness to fire, when turned into oil they are highly flammable. Fighting style: Ryan uses guns, lots and lots of guns. While most people can only hold two guns, Ryan can form arms of oil to hold more guns and fire more bullets. He is also adept at reloading fast, but there is a limit to how much he can multitask. More complex tasks will require more attention, while simple things like loading and firing a gun is easy for him to do. He tries to stay away from the enemy, but he's no slouch in close combat. He uses typical Logia tactics like liquefying to avoid hits, but he also uses the oil he produces with incendiary bullets to create fires and in extreme cases, explosions. He keeps 10 guns on him at minimum at all times. Ship Positions: TBA, could be maintenance guy. Bounty: 0

Tristan regarde la femme et elle lui donne un coup de pied et la regarde attentivement "Il semble que je vais devoir être sérieux maintenant." Il remarque son attention étant attiré vers quelque chose d'autre alors qu'il regardait derrière lui pour voir la bande de pirates se précipiter vers eux. "on dirait que je vais me diriger vers la jetée." Il se retourne vers elle tout comme elle s'est précipitée sur lui et a posé son pied sur sa poitrine lui donnant pas le temps de réagir alors qu'elle repousse loin de lui « nngh..pas mal... semble que je vais devoir être plus prudent la prochaine fois que nous nous rencontrons.. » Il gémit doucement et frotte l'endroit sur sa poitrine où son pied a fait le contact toussant un peu avant de prendre une profonde respiration et de s'étirer mis. Tristan a planté ses pieds plus serrés dans le sol après avoir remis son manteau sur "bien ici nous allons... maintenant la bataille commence vraiment." Il s'élance vers la jetée à des vitesses suprémentaires.

Name: Tristan S. Jasper Height: 5'4" Weight: 180lbs Appearance: (couldn't find a pic that worked) He's usually seen wearing a tan cloak with the hood down and a pair of red goggles usually just under his hair line. His hair is medium length and curls at the ends however there's usually a few stray strandd of hair that stick out and curl over in the front partially covering his goggles. He wears light brown light weight work boots. Under his cloak is a thin silk black long sleeve shirt and thin black leather gloves as well as thick black pants with turquoise padding over the pockets. Personality: He's quiet, kind, and gentle. He always has a smile on his face no matter what the situation is. When it comes to fight his calm and collected, his attacks are all precise to make up for his lack of strength. He also likes to collect all of the things he learns along his travels in journals and is quite skilled at assessing situations and making plans as well as changing plans quickly whenever something goes wrong. Home Island/Sea: Due to so much traveling in his life his home island is unknown but his home sea is East Blue History: Tristan S. Jasper lived his life for the most parts on the streets moving from town to town, island to island (whenever a nice captain would come along and allow him to hitch a ride). His chest and face had some scars on them. Since he never really had any money and wasn't very popular with..well people in general because of his beggar appearance people assumed he was some kind of beggar or thug. People often tossed him around, picked fights with him, and kicked him around, but he never fought back or did harsh things to anyone. Anytime he saw an opportunity to help someone he'd take it, never wanting only giving. Even though his life was harsh he always had a smile on his face. One day he noticed an old man on a road being jumped by a group of thugs so he jumped in used his body to shield the old man. The old man seeing his kindness offered to let him stay with him. A few years later Tristan was out with the old man on a food run when those thugs showed up again..this time in a larger group. In the fight he had decided to target one of the thugs who was bigger than the rest and was going on about how he was the strongest person. Once the boy saw an opening in the man's attack and reacted within almost the blink of an eye and he'd won the fight shortly after and the old man explain that this was the potential he had seen in him when they first met. All of this happened..let's say a good five years before where he starts in the rp. At this point he's just been traveling since the old man died. Fruit: No fruit Fighting style: His fighting style is one he developed over time. It relies mainly on dodging and countering. Assessing the enemies strengths and using them against him. It's completely hand to hand he never uses weapons, his impressive reaction time also helps him in his fighting. As for techniques he currently has two. Keen Eye in which he heightens his focus relying on all senses rather than just sight and sound to judge the enemies movements letting him react to their attacks with more accuracy and pinpoint which where in he puts more focus on sight to spot an enemies weak spot and deal more damge. Ship Position: Doesn't have one yet. Bounty: 0

"Physicien, traite-toi une fois que tu sortiras de ton train fou." Finalement capable de toucher le sol avec ses pieds, Leonard était un peu agité, un soupçon de vert évident sur ses joues même en dépit de son masque. La maladie des mouvements associée à des nausées... Leonard a eu de la chance qu'il était déjà nauséeux, sinon la vue de ce bras coupé l'aurait poussé au-dessus du bord. Presque. Est-ce que c'était... des morsures de shark? Quoi qu'il en soit, ses genoux tremblaient régulièrement, ses bras s'accrochant sous son manteau alors qu'il était accueilli par un individu plutôt étrange... il semblait familier. Lapse en mémoire à part, Leonard sourit un peu au compliment au masque, et étendit sa main maintenant stable pour secouer le sien. "P-Pleasure est à moi... Je suis Leonard." Il a dit en introduction, en regardant de travers. Il n'a jamais été bon de rencontrer de nouvelles personnes, surtout quand il se sentait sur le point de vomir et de se pisser, ET de se chier. Et peut-être vomir à nouveau. Notant également que Nikko allait de l'avant, Leonard s'est déplacé pour la suivre, bien qu'il ait été rapidement manipulé par l'homme par un pétrole-tendril. Confus, un peu effrayés, et nauséeux encore une fois, Leonard essaie sans défense de se déchaîner jusqu'à ce qu'ils atteignent le port.

Name: Leonard Siegfriedt Appearance: (Ignore the gun, his pansy ass probably couldn't even lift it) Height/Weight: 5’2, 112 lbs. Age: 19 Personality: While Leonard may seem like a rather grim person, that’s just a misconception most people would get from his clothing. He’s actually rather shy, and tries to hide as much of himself from others as he can, hence the hood and the faceguard. He’s actually a lot nicer than you’d take him for, difficult to anger and easy to please. As a doctor, he believes it to be his duty to help the unwell, and can’t stand to see people suffer when he can do something to help. Even though he has Hypochondriasis. Home Island: North Blue, Principality of Eurijk History: To understand why Leonard is the way he is, it’s more important to know who his parents were, or rather, parent. A woman by the name of Charlotte Siegfriedt, infamously known as the Plague Woman. A person who consumed a rather odd Devil-Fruit by the name of the Toru-Toru no Mi, the Thieving fruit. Despite the powerful nature of the fruit, Charlotte solely used the innately malicious power of the fruit to, rather than steal things such as other’s organs or lives, instead stole from them their ailments, their weariment, their sickness, and their afflictions. Truly a saint, Charlotte traveled the world, willing to help whoever she could save by using her own body as the host for innumerable viruses. Doing so was no easy task for her, however. The pain was unbearable at times, with several fevers racking her body every week, sometimes hitting at the same time. Were it not for her strong conviction to help others, she likely would have died in her sleep countless times. Naturally, carrying that many ailments would shorten one’s lifespan dramatically, and as such, she was fated to die by the age of 30, if not sooner. Doing what she could with her remaining time, she travelled the North Blue, where she was already infamous for having eliminated the lethal Muave Pox that spread through it years before; infamous for being the only known carrier of it. As such, she was shunned and nearly stoned to death several times, resulting in the loss of one of her eyes. From there, Leonard isn’t sure of how he came to be. He isn’t sure who his father is, or how an infant was able to be born without getting deathly ill from a woman like his mother. But what he did know was that his mother was dying every moment he was with her. It was a terrifying experience for the boy, knowing that his mother would die soon. But he never expected the day she would leave their make-shift home in the middle of the swamp-land region of Eurijk. Without a word of goodbye besides a letter telling Leonard to live honestly, his mother vanished. Sailing off to sea, she perished in the middle of the sea somewhere, her body drifting to the bottom of the sea with her host of plagues. Terribly saddened and alone, Leonard soon declined into depression, cursing the world that there was never anyone who could cure his mother of her illnesses. Now alone in the world, Leonard studied tirelessly to perfect medicines of his own concoction, using himself and various animals around the area to test his brews. One of those concoctions also happened to nearly blow his entire home to pieces, resulting in the left side of his face to be burned quite severely. Years later, without a penny to his name, he set off into the world to cure the incurable, more than aware of his dream being absolutely ridiculous. But then...a world free of sickness never was his own dream. It was his mother’s. Fighting Style: Do No Harm Despite his Hippocratic Oath, Leonard understands perfectly well that in this violent world, conflict is inevitable. While not a proficient hand-to-hand fighter, he has the knowledge required to dislocate someone’s bones if given enough of an opening, as well as having amazingly precise and steady hands. Combined with his accurate vision, he is able to throw scalpels like throwing knives with a great deal of precision. Crew Position: Doctor Bounty: 0 Others: Wears his faceguard more to hide his face than to keep from catching something, despite his frightfully strong immune system. While he does have the potential to have rather strong Observation Haki, he is currently unaware of Haki's existence, and has no idea how to use it. Character Theme

Les pleurs tranquilles de la femme vêtue de blanc ont fait sortir Aglovale de son état apathique. Il se tenait près d'elle dans cet étrange champ de roses blanches, ressemblant à des rêves, qui semble durer éternellement. En fait, il erre dans cet endroit sombre depuis très longtemps maintenant. Il ne peut même pas se rappeler combien de temps ça fait. Mais, peu importe combien il marchait, il finirait toujours au même endroit - à côté de cette mystérieuse femme aux mains sanglantes couvrant son visage. « Assez déjà... » il parla faiblement à la femme en blanc. Aglovale en a marre de ses pleurs, mais peu importe ce qu'il dit, la femme n'est pas au courant de sa présence. Épuisé, Aglovale s'est effondré sur le lit de roses en dessous. Il regarde le ciel blanc sans traits avec des yeux lourds. "Est-ce... tout ce qu'il y a en Enfer...? Quelle étrange terre..." Les paroles d'Aglovale s'enfuient alors qu'il tombe peu à peu inconscient. Il ne semblait pas une seconde plus tard quand Aglovale se réveille brusquement. Il s'assied et scanne fiévreusement la zone qui l'entoure. Il n'était plus dans le champ des roses blanches, mais plutôt dans un cimetière au crépuscule. "Où..." Quelque chose l'arrête. Un sentiment effrayant : le battement de son cœur. Aglovale a senti quelque chose qu'il n'avait pas ressenti depuis longtemps : la peur - la peur amère et paralysante. "Je-je suis... Vivant!? Non, je ne peux pas. Je me souviens clairement de ma mort." Il se rappela, stupéfait de sa situation. Soudain, Aglovale a remarqué quelque chose sous ses vêtements. Quand il a enlevé sa chemise pour vérifier, il a vu une étrange marque sur le côté gauche de sa poitrine. "Qu'est-ce que cette marque maudite?" Il s'est demandé. Finalement, reprenant son sang-froid, Aglovale répara sa chemise et se mit à errer dans le cimetière. Il a tenté de chercher n'importe qui qui qui pouvait être d'aide mais en vain. Bientôt, il a trébuché sur la sortie et, ensuite, sur la route. Un panneau en bois pointait dans les directions de plusieurs colonies voisines; l'une d'elles est reconnue par Aglovale. "Oldenstead..." Aglovale a dit avec une nostalgie tranquille. "Peut-être que je trouverai peut-être encore du réconfort là-bas." Soudain, un bruit a attiré l'attention d'Aglovale loin de ses pensées : le bruit fougueux des loups. Au loin rôdait une meute de loups avec des fourrures aussi sombres que la nuit et des yeux comme des étoiles. Ils n'ont pas peur d'une présence humaine suggérant qu'ils ont déjà chassé des humains. En voyant le paquet de cinq, une sensation alarmante a vaincu Aglovale. Son sang est bouillant et, dans le fond de son esprit, une voix sournoise suggère qu'il tue les loups ; Aglovale se sent obligé de se conformer à la voix. Les éclaboussures de sang sur l'herbe et la saleté, et les cris hersants remplissent l'air. Les loups sont morts les uns sur les autres, exsanguinés et couverts de leur propre linceul sanglant. Aglovale, avec des mains tachées de sang, s'est tenu ébranlé et a panté lourdement; un sourire presque sadique a encadré son visage. "Cela sentait... satisfaisant..." il se moquait, au sujet des loups qu'il venait d'assassiner. Aglovale se tenait de nouveau debout et regardait vers la direction d'Oldenstead. « Si je suis vraiment en vie, alors je ne vais pas gaspiller cette opportunité. Morgan, je viens te voir." il se dit avant de partir vers sa destination. Château Pendragahst - la puissante forteresse qui se trouve au centre de la capitale massive d'Astoria. Avec des murs de pierre de dragon et une armée de soldats patrouillant jour et nuit, cette forteresse impénétrable représente le domaine de l'homme qui a fini un âge et a fondé un royaume: le Seigneur Galant de la Première Épée. Malheureusement, le château sert plus qu'un trône à gouverner, il sert aussi de prison du roi. Une salle pleine de conseillers et de dignitaires attend patiemment leur roi, mais ils ne sont accueillis que par un trône vide. Dans les chambres du roi - une chambre légèrement éclairée par des bougies avec un lit assez grand comme pièce maîtresse - un soldat arrive et s'incline respectueusement à son roi et à sa reine. "Mon Seigneur, un représentant de la Sainte Eglise demande un public." Il l'a informé. Lord Galant - caché derrière des rideaux de soie pourris - n'a pas donné une toux sévère en réponse. Sa silhouette montre la figure d'un homme malade. L'ancien Seigneur Tout-Puissant Galant n'est plus qu'un écueil de l'homme qu'il a été, frappé par une maladie indéterminable. "Comme vous pouvez le voir, le Seigneur Galant n'est pas dans un état où il peut avoir de l'audience avec qui que ce soit, l'Eglise ou non. Dites à ce représentant de chercher le roi à une date ultérieure." La reine Andora, debout près du lit du roi, l'a dit au soldat. "Ma Reine, le représentant déclare que la question est d'une grande urgence. C'est en ce qui concerne la peste du sang." "Envoyez-le dans..." Le Seigneur Galant a finalement parlé, quoique faiblement. "Mon Seigneur", la reine Andora tente de protester, mais le Seigneur Galant l'interrompt. « S'il s'agit de ce fléau contre nature, mon royaume est en proie, alors je veux connaître toute nouvelle que l'Eglise cherche à partager avec moi. » Il le dit à la chambre. "Envoyez-le." Le Seigneur Galant a répété.

Name: Aglovale "Aglo" Pennore Epithet: Sir Aglovale of the Brightsword; Bright Lord Aglovale; Aglovale of Tarvayne Age: 100+ (Appears 17) Sex: Male Date of Birth: July 24th Legends Slain: Kingslayer Esclabor; Great Iron King; Salamander Zant; Good Blood Witch; The Beast of Tarvayne Slain By: The Five Heavenly Kings Height: 5'05" Weight: 114 lbs Mark Appearance: Click Here Mark Location: Left side of chestAglovale, or as his close compatriots refer to him simply as Aglo, is characterized predominantly by his frankness and straightforward attitude. He is also known for his utter fearlessness both on and off the field of battle. Despite appearing to be a very calm and composed person, Aglovale is quick to anger against those he find disrespectful and, especially, those who threaten his allies. Ever since his unusual resurrection, Aglovale seems to have developed a dark side when under the influence of the bloodlust. He becomes cold, quiet, ruthless, and murderous unless he finds a way to satisfy his dark urges. In his long life, Aglovale has managed to acquire many allies as well as enemies but none of his other relationships matter more than of that between him and his adopted daughter, Morgan. Aglovale's closest comrades describe Morgan as, "the only person Aglovale truly loves." Aglovale's deepest regret is that he died before he could say goodbye to his daughter.Much of Aglovale's early childhood is unknown. He was abandoned in the small village of Tarvayne located near the mountain regions of the Great Continent. He was taken in by the chapter of the Holy Church located within the village. Aglovale was an odd child. He never spoke more than a word or two to anybody and always seemed to disappear off somewhere during all hours of the day. However, even as a child, he harbored great potential within himself. When a gigantic beast began terrorizing the village of Tarvayne, the villagers were quick to entertain the idea of abandoning their homes. But at only the age of nine, Aglovale, with a makeshift spear in hand, traversed the mountains to face the beast in its lair. The result? Aglovale came back to the village with the beast's severed head in tow, impaled on the spearhead. The tale of Aglovale of Tarvayne began to spread to the nearby towns and settlements. "The Beast of Tarvayne was slain by a mere child," the stories went. Aglovale became somewhat of a small legend in that local region as a result of his brave action. Consequently, the sisters of Tarvayne's chapel decided to send Aglovale to Pendragahst, the capital city of Astoria, to join the ranks of the Holy Church. But once he got there, he instead showed such great prowess that he was recruited as a Knight of the First Sword - Lord Galant's personal army; Aglovale was only fifteen at the time. In his time as a Knight of the First Sword, Aglovale vanquished the likes of the Good Blood Witch and the fearsome dragon, Salamander Zant. From the mountains of treasure hoarded by Salamander Zant, Aglovale received two weapons of legendary fame: the Brightsword Caliburn and the Demon Sword Wrathbone. As the years went by, the names "Sir Aglovale of the Brightsword" and "Bright Lord Aglovale" were immortalized by the people of the kingdoms and beyond. The bards sing praises of Aglovale's heroic exploits and adventures. "The lord who wield the Brightsword Caliburn," they would sing in his honor. In the later years of his life, Aglovale relinquished his title of Knight when he saved a little girl named Morgan - his adopted daughter. Aglovale retired and opened up his own tavern in the hopes of living out the rest of his life in tranquil bliss. Of course the curse of the immortalized had other plans for him. Aglovale, by request of the Holy Church, went on to slay the Great Iron King and even Kingslayer Esclabor who was once one of Lord Galant's most trusted knights. But for some reason after fulfilling the request, Aglovale turned rogue and went after the Five Heavenly Kings who are stern allies of Lord Galant and the Holy Church considering their involvement in the war against the Church of the Good Blood. Alas, he alone was not enough to fell the Five Kings. Their might proved too much for the Bright Lord and his death came swiftly. In the final moments of his life, all Aglovale could think about was his regret of not being able to say goodbye to Morgan. That day, a legend was ended. It wasn't until years later that the blight arrived and began to resurrect the dead; with one of the risen being the Bright Lord, himself. Combat Information Caliburn: A legendary weapon of lore said to have been wielded by a great king preceding the Age of Blood, the Caliburn is also known by the epithet, the Brightsword, because of its innate ability to control light. Interestingly, Caliburn's power scales by the time of day. Starting at sunrise, the Caliburn gradually grows in strength until it reaches its apex at noon then it begins to diminish in power until nightfall. Furthermore, Caliburn has two additional forms it can change into: a longsword and a greatsword. In its passive state, it exists as a shortsword with a blade length of only two feet. The wielder of this sword must be deemed worthy by the sword, itself, before they can access its other forms. Wrathbone: The Demon Sword Wrathbone is a legendary weapon said to contain monstrous amounts of power. During the Age of Blood, the Wrathbone appeared in the world and was wielded by a powerful demon knight whose name was lost in history, overshadowed by this very blade. The sword thrives off the blood of its victims, growing increasingly more powerful with every foe it slays. Furthermore, it feeds off of its wielder's rage, growing stronger as a result of it; hence the name "Wrathbone". The full potential of this sword is unknown because, for some reason, Aglovale is highly reluctant to use it. Bright Lord Armor: The set of armor worn by the legendary Bright Lord himself. Crafted from dragon fire-tempered steel and dragon bone from Salamander Zant, this armor is powerful enough to deter Aglovale from the idea of using a shield during his time with the Knights of the First Sword. However, ever since his retirement from the Knights, Aglovale has retired the armor.Slaying Wave: When Caliburn's blade is enveloped in light energy, Aglovale can release it as a destructive wave of power capable of cutting through thick rock. The speed of the attack is also quite impressive. At release, it can cover a distance of 110 meters in about four seconds. Counter: This technique was created by Aglovale out of necessity due to the fact that he does not use a shield. Using a sword, in this case Caliburn, Aglovale can redirect an opponent's attack in full when timed at the correct moment. Depending on his preference, Aglovale can redirect the attack right back at its user or even towards another enemy. Of course, Aglovale can only use his Counter if an enemy has initiated an attack first. Bright Lord's Spear: When Caliburn is enveloped in light energy, Aglovale can thrust the blade at an encroaching enemy and release the light energy in a straight line. The result will be a spear-like attack that can potentially impale the strongest of armor.

Zaélios était peu conscient qu'il était brisé, une douleur douloureuse pendant un moment avant que les sorts ne s'évanouissent de l'existence. Seuls les plus puissants - ceux qui tiennent ensemble sa 'conscience' - centrés dans le réservoir massif et inexploité d'énergie dans le diamant ont résisté aux autres sorts déchirés. Normalement, tant de sorts liés ensemble déchireraient naturellement les voisins et ainsi de suite, tout comme un château qui s'effondre. Le diamant qu'il a tombé à terre en une douzaine de fragments, chaque grand et assez tranchant pour couper en morceaux quiconque se trouve tomber sur eux. Et puis il était à nouveau entier. Il tomba à terre avec un doux bruit, au milieu d'une prairie. Absent, rêveusement, il jeta un sort pour rétablir sa vue. Il ne s'est rien passé. Panic se leva, et soudain il put voir à nouveau. C'était comme si... bien. Il était de retour dans sa forme mortelle, armuré dans son... armure. Il a regardé autour de lui, se demandant ce qui s'est passé, et a vu une femme. Blanc, une couleur inconnue dans une forme aussi pure. Il pouvait sentir une présence massive de magie, une taille paralysante, pour une créature qui vit et se nourrit d'elle. Il s'est donc tourné vers l'endroit où la présence était la plus faible, et a commencé à courir, incapable de former sa forme alimentée. C'était comme s'il courait un siècle, et pourtant quand il se retourna, regardant la femme blanche, c'était comme si un moment s'était écoulé. Il a essayé de courir dans une direction différente, et tout à coup, il s'est senti comme s'il tombait, tombait, tombait, puis s'affaiblissait! Il s'est écrasé dans le sol avec ce qui aurait été une fracture douloureuse d'une jambe. Au lieu de cela, sa jambe s'est plié latéralement à un angle maladroit, avant de se réaligner lentement. Il l'a secoué, et a regardé autour de lui, prenant note de son environnement. Rien de ce qu'il devrait être ne devrait exister en ce moment. Il s'est brisé. Toute sa forme, des sorts entiers, ont été déchirés. Son diamant s'est brisé... le cristal sur lequel il était ancré. Puis quand il regarda autour de lui, il vit que non seulement il était sur une colline stérile au milieu d'une zone boisée, il se tenait à l'intérieur d'un cercle - un cercle de 12 points - où les lignes montrent que quelque chose a été traîné au milieu, où il se trouvait maintenant. À la fin de chaque point se tenait un homme, vêtu de robes bleu foncé, patché, déchiré et mal teint. Fait maison. Il était encore vivant, et il pouvait sentir les magiciens collectivement puissants autour de lui. Des idiots qui ne savaient pas ce qu'ils faisaient. Le ciel lumineux et ensoleillé a disparu en un instant, de grands nuages de tonnerre sont apparus et la foudre a filé à travers les nuages. Le tonnerre roulait avec chaque boulon, s'accrochant à l'humeur de son créateur alors que Zaélios jetait des vrilles de puissance aux sorciers, en utilisant leurs propres sorts contre eux. Au fur et à mesure qu'ils chantaient, il devenait plus puissant; d'autres sorts se superposaient aux originaux, essayant de le lier à eux. Au lieu de cela, ils ont commencé à crier alors qu'il battait de côté leurs défenses individuellement faibles, et aspiraient leur corps sec de la puissance qu'ils contenaient. Nécromanèse sous la forme la plus pure. Il ne restait plus que des cendres.

Name: Zaelios Epithet: Zaelios the Lightning, Master of Storms, Caller of Storms, Stormcaller, Žaibas Viešpats (Lightning Lord) Age: He's really old cause he's a magical being created a long time ago when magicians were all superpowerful, instead of being weak enough to be controlled by Kings. Sex: Male Date of Birth: A long, long time ago. Legends Slain: - The Mountain King - Valkahar the Swift - The Great Werebear - The Lone Power - Firewyrm of the Western Mountains - Draconian Blazer - Stark Scyther Slain By: The Conjurer of Shadows Humanoid form- Otherworldly armor forged of an unknown dark metal (not exactly black, but dull and dark). Layered plate armor forming full-body medium armor, capable of stopping a waraxe or warhammer while still remaining more fluid and mobile than heavy armor. Based on his ability to turn into a form of multicolored cloud of mist, flesh, blood, and armor are all of magical origin, or heavily influenced and infused with. Magical form- a cloud of mist that can expand to, max, about the size of a car. Capable of all things mist is- getting inside a body, through vents or doors, etc. While very few have even seen him in this form, this is his true form- a cloud of pure magical self-sustaining spells. Powered form- A being of energy, held together by the spellweave that keeps him alive and sentient. This is his most powerful form, and requires regular consumption of mages or something magical in nature. In this form, he is a wingless drake of blue energy, just as large as a house. Combined with his almost-ethereal legs and his innate power, he mainly launches himself like an arrow from a bow to collide powerfully against targets. Destroying and consuming magical Legends makes all forms more powerful. Personality: Spontaneous, indecisive at first but terribly stubborn once decided, confused easily with paradoxes or the like, but can be terribly quick to figure out an ambush. Is also paranoid. Hard to talk to, personally. Lore: "Aye, it's said that the Master of Storms feeds off the power of those around him. He needed naught but the magic in your blood, in anythin's blood, indeed, and he'd starve so, since there are so few. So he'd hunt down other Legends, hunting them down so he'd not starve, using their powers to feed his own accursed strength. Then, one of them figured out how he ticked, and with a single spell, cast him from existence! Only the source of his power was left- a gem the size of your head, a great flawless diamond!" - an old tale told by the old storyteller in the tavern. Combat Information In mortal form: - A greatsword made of the same mysterious dark metal, with a dull red metal lining the edges and the hilt of the sword. Gems are embedded in both the hilt and the winged guard. - Two, dual longswords, hand-and-a-half, made entirely of the dull red metal, strapped to either side of his waist in scabbards made of grey leather, edged by dull, beaten iron. - Six saxe knives (almost like shortswords) set in small scabbards positioned on both his lower legs, his forearms, and next to his longswords. - A bow made from, again, a dark grey wood, reinforced with the same unknown dull dark metal, with runes of unknown origin inscribed across their length. An over-the-shoulder quiver with swan-fletched grey arrows sit. All weapons are very, very magical. In mist form: Well... he has the ability to solidify parts of his mist in unusually light, strong lengths of tentacle-like appendages. The mist itself also erodes at exposed flesh, burning like acid. Since it's a mist, any weapon, magical or otherwise, would likely be ineffective against it. Air spells and the like still have effect, though. In powered form: Magical teeth like shortswords, claws like longswords, magical scale as strong as his armor, but a bit thicker, and dissipates slightly when broken. Breathes the same mist he can turn into, though it's heavier and not as 'alive' as himself, though it still may form up around living creatures until they're consumed. Anything eaten by his own mouth or the mist has all the magic slowly sucked from it to be pulled into Zaelios's life force. Can sometimes shoot magical bolts, depending on necessity. Magical bolts when in mortal or powered form, medium control of elemental powers in mortal form, air elemental powers in powered form. The reality of Zaelios is that he's over a thousand intertwining spells. Actually "killing" him is next to impossible by normal means. Spells of most any kind are generally, in the long run, ineffective, and conventional weapons like arrows or swords are also nearly ineffective. Since he's made of spells, it would take a single master socrerer casting the disperse-magic spell, or a dozen powerful sorcerers, to actually "kill" him, which would leave behind his "soul" in the giant diamond gemstone. The gem itself is where all the spells are anchored. Theoretically, breaking it while he was "alive" or "dead" would permanently kill him, but it's unlikely to even be able to find it before he kills you. He can also summon storms, hence the name.

C'était une bonne fin, ça ne s'est pas passé comme il aurait préféré mais une bonne fin néanmoins, après tout, il est tombé à la lame d'un ami proche et d'un guerrier maintenant supérieur... du moins ce qu'il se disait juste avant que le monde s'assombrisse devant ses yeux. Curieusement, il se sentait en paix, le genre de paix que l'on attendait probablement de la mort peut-être, ou dans son cas, DOIVENT s'attendre. La transition était instantanée, un moment où il était à quatre pattes, toussant du sang pour rivaliser avec le ruisseau qui coulait de sa poitrine, entouré d'une prairie herbacée sur une rue pavée et en un clin d'œil, il était dans la même position mais un endroit très différent. Une grêle douce échappa à ses lèvres en regardant le sol, une grande couverture de roses blanches pures poussa tout autour, leurs tulipes minces s'échappant à travers les fentes entre ses doigts. Curieusement, il ne souffrait plus. Il se leva lentement, une expression bâclée se plissée sur son visage alors qu'il inspectait sa personne, puis ses environs. Il semblait parfaitement bien, pas de blessures, pas de douleur, rien, et il était au milieu d'un océan sans fin apparent de roses blanches s'étendant jusqu'à l'œil pouvait voir à l'horizon et, comme il le soupçonnait, au-delà de cela. Il a prononcé un fain Wha avant de se retourner, sentant une présence derrière lui. Ses muscles tendus et il a instinctivement atteint pour son arme attendant un adversaire, mais il a été surpris de constater qu'il ne saisit rien, son épée non plus à ses côtés et devant lui se tenait non pas un ennemi armé mais une femme, vêtue d'une longue robe d'un blanc si immaculé que l'on pouvait facilement confondre avec les roses qui l'entouraient, ce qui donne l'impression qu'elle faisait partie de cet endroit. Son visage était la seule chose cachée, obscurcie par les paumes de ses mains, si fortement tachées de sang qu'elles se distinguaient de l'environnement comme un pouce douloureux. Qui est cette personne? Sairasu s'approchait d'elle, il était rare pour lui d'être CET prudent lorsqu'il traitait avec une personne non armée, «Qu'est-ce...qu'est-ce que c'est..place? » il prononça, ses paroles apparemment tomber sur les oreilles sourdes comme la femme ne donnait aucune réponse. Il s'est approché, répétant sa question mais toujours pas de réponse. Ce n'est qu'alors qu'il a remarqué que tout son corps était engourdi, regardant autour et même à la robe de la femme on pouvait clairement dire qu'une brise légère balayait dans la prairie alors que Sairasu ne ressentait pas ses caresses glaciales ou rien d'autre à ce sujet. C'est là... Il murmurait en étirant un bras, gingembre, vers la femme, des brins de ses longs cheveux noir-jet brossant légèrement contre ses doigts alors que la brise soufflait, il ne sentait pas ça non plus. À seulement quelques centimètres de toucher ses mains de couleur pourpre s'arrêta-t-il, resserrant sa paume tendue dans un poing alors qu'il terminait sa phrase précédente inachevée « Est-ce... l'enfer? » Il se rétracta la main, toujours sans réponse, la femme se tenait juste devant lui, mais apparemment l'ignorant. Sairasu a fermé son seul bon œil, en respirant profondément. Et maintenant? Sans aucune alternative, il a commencé à errer, sans but, à travers le champ. Il n'avait aucun sens de la direction où il allait, il n'y avait absolument aucun changement dans l'environnement quel que soit son chemin ou jusqu'où il allait, pas qu'il pouvait dire exactement jusqu'où il allait de toute façon. Il regardait vers le haut, essayant de voir s'il pouvait avoir une vague idée de la direction en observant les nuages mais le ciel était une immense toile monotone de gris, il ne pouvait même pas voir le soleil... il ne pouvait même pas dire s'il y avait un soleil à commencer par. Il a continué à errer, pendant et après ce qui semblait être un temps impie. Il sentit les minutes s'étirer jusqu'à des heures et des heures à des jours, mais peu importe jusqu'où ou combien de temps il errait, il semblait toujours revenir à l'endroit où il a commencé, où se tenait cette mystérieuse femme en blanc, l'attendant patiemment avec ses mains sanglantes coupant son visage. Sairasu était perdu. Complètement et complètement perdu. Il soupira profondément et se mit à s'asseoir parmi les roses, à côté de l'endroit où se tenait la femme. Si c'est l'Enfer, est-ce là ma punition? Il y a réfléchi. S'il s'agit en effet de sa punition, pour un guerrier qui n'a connu que la bataille et n'a fait que chercher de plus en plus d'opposants dans la vie, à errer dans un champ «barren» pour toute l'éternité sans rien combattre, ce genre de punition serait en fait... Ça n'explique toujours pas la femme... quelle est sa présence ici supposée... Son train de pensées a été interrompu alors qu'il tournait son regard vers ici seulement pour voir que la femme en blanc avait soudainement disparu de la vue. Maintenant, il était tout seul... un mélange d'émotions a commencé à le remplir, la colère, la peur, la confusion, la curiosité et la peur se sont toutes transformées en un seul. Il a entendu quelque chose. Un son lointain qui résonne autour de lui... un son familier... ça sonnait comme... un battement de cœur. Dans un simple instant, inconcevable, tout était à nouveau sombre. Cependant, il n'est pas resté longtemps. L'obscurité s'est lentement effondrée, laissant place à un flou désordonné alors que sa vision se redressait lentement. Il entendait plus de sons... les sons de terre jetés de côté par des pelles, les sons de points de suture s'étirant sur des vêtements en cuir... et des voix... il entendait des voix qui ne pouvaient pas encore faire ce qu'ils disaient. Il a fallu plusieurs instants à sa vision et à son audition pour clarifier jusqu'à ce qu'il puisse comprendre ce qui se passait. Il regardait le ciel... mais ce ciel n'était pas la même dalle grise d'avant... celui-ci était brouillé par des nuages de tempête sombres et obscurci par les branches osseuses d'un arbre sans vie. Ce qu'il a entendu, c'était une paire de voix gutturales, qui se moquaient de quelque chose... Sairasu écoutait attentivement... Tu vois ces nuages en haut? Déplacez la deuxième voix qui a répondu avait un ton plus aiguisé. Moi, je pense que nous avons obtenu un bon sort..Regardez ce 'ère!.Sa curiosité lui a légèrement fait lever la tête et tourner son regard pour voir de quoi ces deux voix parlaient...c'est-à-dire quand il a vu Meiyaku, son arme, sa possession la plus chère, encore gainée dans son fourreau, levait juste au-dessus de lui dans les griffes rugissantes d'un étranger. La voix gutturale a répondu d'un ton plus agressif qu'avant.Il faut dire qu'elle m'appartient! » C'est quand une seconde paire de mains lourdement habillées s'est étendue et s'est emparée de son arme, essayant de l'éloigner de la première paire de mains. C'est parti, mon pote! La voix plus nette a protesté et n'a été rencontrée qu'avec une série d'insultes de la guttural comme les deux paires de mains se battaient apparemment pour le katana juste au-dessus de la tête de Sairasu. Il ne comprenait pas complètement ce qui se passait... mais il comprenait que quelqu'un essayait de voler son précieux Meiyaku et il n'était pas sur le point de le laisser arriver. Soudain, son corps ne s'est plus senti engourdi ou raide, ses muscles tendus et il a pu sentir la vie brûlante pendant qu'il se poussait rapidement vers le haut, écartant la fine couche de saleté qui restait sur ses genoux. Sa main a été tendue et il a soudainement saisi le katana par le milieu, le revendiquant là où il appartenait légitimement. "Mine..." Dans quelques secondes après avoir dit cela, les deux voleurs de tombes ont sauté en arrière, brouillant dans la terreur de ce qui s'est passé. L'un d'eux a trébuché sur la pelle plantée dans le sol derrière lui et est tombé sur son arrière tandis que l'autre dans une sombre panique sous son épais manteau raggué avant d'arracher un grand couteau. Qu'est-ce que c'est que ça? Qui êtes-vous? Qui êtes-vous?Il bégayait et criait, peur présente dans sa voix tandis que Sairasu se levait et sortait de sa tombe peu profonde. Il se mit à saisir la poignée de son katana et tira lentement la lame de son fourreau, le bruit de métal sonnant dans l'air alors que l'autre homme se retirait du sol, si épouvantable et si écarlate qu'il respira presque tout en essayant de retrouver son équilibre. Celui avec le couteau continuait à maudire, encore et encore, tandis que la peur froide descendait sa colonne vertébrale, le second grave-robber a rapidement saisi la pelle derrière lui pour se défendre avec avant de crier "Feck! Il s'agit d'un ou d'eux Blood Praged buggers! Son affirmation a été rencontrée avec une autre question paniquée de son associé "Blood Plagué? Qu'est-ce qu'on fait maintenant?La question a été répondue avec un rushed Comment ça sanglant "je suis s"possed tha" feckin, savez-vous?Sairasu ne pouvait s'empêcher de sourire maniaquement alors qu'il soulevait le katana, sa lame nue pointant vers le ciel. J'ai une idée... Il murmurait, son ton sonnait plus sombre qu'il ne l'avait probablement voulu. Il a laissé le fourreau tomber à terre alors qu'il se dirigeait vers une position de combat..Et vous mourrez?.Il a prononcé et puis l'air du petit bosquet a été rempli avec les cris courts et forts de terreur des deux grave-robbers que Sairasu leur a tranché membre de membre, le sang germant qui a plu à l'herbe morte et tacher leurs vêtements enragés tandis que leurs corps sans vie sont tombés immobile au sol. Ce n'est qu'après que sa tête se soit débarrassée de l'effervescence qui l'avait soudainement saisi, que Sairasu a commencé à traiter et à réaliser sa situation actuelle. Je... Je suis vivant... Il murmurait dans l'incrédulité totale, tombant à genoux, son katana coulissant dans sa paume ouverte comme il ne regardait rien dans l'horizon. Comment est-ce possible? Il s'est posé la question. Il se rappelait comment il était mort, le souvenir de sa bataille avec Binshentsu était encore frais comme si cela s'était passé plus tôt aujourd'hui, ainsi était le souvenir du grand champ de roses blanches et la femme dans la robe blanche avec le sang des mains tachées. Il était censé être DEAD! Pourtant, il est... sentant le froid du vent du crépuscule alors qu'une tempête s'approchait lentement, les légères douleurs dans ses articulations de la raideur du corps étaient toutes à réelles, c'était tout... vrai. Sairasu a levé son regard une fois de plus dans le ciel en plaçant ses paumes sur son visage alors qu'il a simplement commencé à rire maniaque en criant : "Qu'est-ce qui m'arrive?C'est quoi, ça? Après quelques minutes de prise en main de la situation, Sairasu s'empare de son katana, se lève, retourne à l'endroit où se trouvait son ancienne tombe, passant devant les membres coupés et sanglants de ses voleurs, ramasse le fourreau du sol et y emporte Meiyaku. Il a pris une profonde inspiration en faisant de son mieux pour calmer ses nerfs et son esprit encore effondré. Il n'a absolument aucune idée de ce qu'il lui arrive... mais... attendez un moment? Il s'est souvenu... Qu'est-ce qu'un voleur de tombes disait alors qu'il déchauffait son katana? Blood Plagué... Il a murmuré sous son souffle. C'est peut-être un indice de ce qui lui arrive actuellement. Avec une détermination renouvelée, Sairasu sortit avidement du petit bosquet, laissant derrière lui la tombe de fortune ouverte et les cadavres sanglants. Il n'avait toujours aucune idée de ce qui se passait encore pour le moment, son meilleur pari était d'atteindre le village le plus proche et de découvrir autant qu'il pouvait à propos de cette peste de sang.

Name Murasame Sairasu Epithet Sairasu of the East ; Wanderer Sairasu ; The Ronin Vagabond ; Sairasu the Indomitable Age Unknown, presumably late 30s Sex Male Date of Birth 21st August Legends Slain he Skulking Beast ; Musahashi the Green-Blade ; Smiling Charles ; The Blackwall Company ; The Sisters of Carnage ; Suiryuu the Water God Slain By Binshentsu the Grey Appearance 1.87m tall, light colored skin now with a slight grey-ish tint after his resurrection. Slender yet well toned body deceiving his strength, sharp facial features. Long, jet-black hair of which the back portion is tied in a messy ponytail. A light stubble decorates his jaw-line and chin. A small scar is visible just under his left eye which is kept closed at all times indicating that it is lost, his right, functioning eye displays a pale gold colored iris. Personality During his life, Sairasu was known for his sarcastic remarks and light-hearted demeanor, prone to making jests more often than not, these jests turned to mockery when facing opponents which only added to the cocky image he had painted for himself. However, this attitude vanishes whenever he faces a worthy opponent, his jests turning silent, his grin replaced by a frown and his gaze piercing his opponent while his very presence emanates killing intent. After his resurrection, he has come to discover that the later is starting to be more common than usual. Lore Not much is known about Sairasu’s childhood, according to him it is best left buried deep under the sands of the past. His story begins only at the age of 17, when he and Binshentsu, his closest friend, had left their homeland from the distant East to wander the world in search for glorious battle and mighty opponents. For a time, they traveled together, enjoying the ‘privileges’ of being a pair of sellswords, living from one odd-job to the next, slaying foes left and right be them man or beast. However they soon discovered that each must walk their own path, Binshentsu accepted the proposal of joining a mercenary company and traveling with them, the same invitation extended to Sairasu but he refused, continuing to wander the world by himself. Alone, Sairasu made a name of himself as a wanderer of great skill, always searching for challenges with the most impossible odds and succeeding. At the age of 21, he slew the Skulking Beast whose hide is said to be impervious to any man-made blade. About 2 years later after a rather insulting jape, he found himself engaged in a duel with Musahashi the Green-Blade, a warrior of legend from his homeland, needless to say that legend ended that day. A few years later, an apparent friendly completion turned bloody and deadly, in which the revolutionary warfare inventions of Smiling Charles proved no match against Sairasu’s skills. After that victory, the legend of the Ronin Vagabond spread across the lands and rumors of great forces drew him to Astoria where he sought out the infamous Blackwall Company of mercenaries. After singlehandedly slaying the whole company, he learned from interrogating one of his foes of the existence of an ancient dragon of immense power which the locals called a ‘Water God’, this piqued his interest and Sairasu was off in search for more information. The Sisters of Carnage were rumored to have the power of clairvoyance which they used to make themselves nigh-on invincible, yet ‘nearly invincible’ did not mean ‘impossible to kill’ as Sairasu proved by slaying one, then extracting relevant information about the dragon he sought from the other before killing her as well. The battle with Suiryuu the Water God, proved the hardest, none of his former opponents could even come close to the formidable power of this Dragon. However, against all odds, Sairasu managed to slay the beast with the last of his strength and a stroke of luck. After the battle, Sairasu’s legend was well known across the land, which only brought the attention of someone from his past. After many long years, he was reunited with his friend Binshentsu yet he was vastly changed. Instead of warm greetings and a joyous reunion, Sairasu only encountered cold steel and battle. He couldn’t explain why yet his old friend was hell-bent on claiming his life, which in the end was exactly what happened. The last thing Sairasu recalls was Binshentsu cleaning his blade of blood as the world darken around him….and now, he finds himself awake again…. Equipment His armor is made of an exotic design from his homeland, crafted in such a way as to offer good protection yet not restrict mobility, in the meantime he had also reinforced it with the pelt of the Skulking Beast which is said to be as strong as the scales of dragons. His most prized possession is his weapon, Meiyaku, a katana with a longer than average blade said to be forged in ancient times by a powerful entity. The legend says that this entity placed a portion of its own spirit within the weapon to continue living through it and a warrior strong enough could call upon its power Techniques/Spells Kin-Kou Form – A stance and combat form relying on a fine balance of strength and speed. Adopting this form, Sairasu can fight on par with even the most skilled of foes while still holding his guard up, prepared for any counter-attack and rarely caught off-guard. Fukutsu Form – A defensive variant of the Kin-Kou Form, a stance and combat form relying on either the user’s strength to deflect and resist incoming attacks or the user’s speed and mobility in dodging stronger attacks altogether. Sairasu usually adopts this stance to endure a battle and patiently wait for an opening on his opponent which will be swiftly met with a devastating counter-attack. Hakai Form – A highly offensive variant of the Kin-Kou Form, a stance and combat form relying entirely on the user’s speed to rain down uncountable blows and attacks, fluidly strung together in a long chain of quick strikes. Sairasu would adopt this form when catching his opponent in a tight spot, his surreal speed leave almost no opportunity for attack.

Il a maudit sa mort. Damné la bête qui l'a brisé, irrité qu'il ait échoué après toutes les années d'attente et de recherche du monstre misérable pour être tué par elle. En fin de compte, il ne pouvait pas changer ce qui s'était passé et cela ne l'a pas frustré à aucune fin incapable d'échapper au champ des roses. Les derniers instants avaient été rapides, la bête était rapide, et malgré tout son entraînement, il ne pouvait pas suivre le mouvement erratique de la bête. Il se souvenait avoir senti son corps soudainement écrasé par une pression énorme, puis il y avait eu une fissure et un engourdissement. Combien de temps il avait été coincé dans le champ de fleurs qu'il ne pouvait pas dire, rien n'a changé dans ce royaume et le temps semblait inexistant. Il a erré sans l'arrêter jusqu'à ce qu'il rencontre quelqu'un qui pleure. Le son l'a brisé de ses pensées et de ses malédictions. Il n'avait vu personne d'autre ici à son arrivée. Au début, il ne pouvait pas voir qui pleurait, et croyait que tout était dans sa tête, succombant finalement à une forme de folie jusqu'à ce qu'il puisse enfin faire une forme d'une femme qui ses vêtements correspondaient à la même couleur des roses dans le royaume. Il s'est approché de la femme qui lui semble inconsciente d'être là. Elle continua à pleurer et, à mesure qu'il s'approchait, il remarqua que le sang cramoisi la tache, la seule couleur de la mer de blanc tout autour. Plus il s'approchait, plus il se sentait engourdi, plus ses membres se sentaient engourdis. "Peut-être que le repos m'éclaircira l'esprit", murmura-t-il avant de basculer, en dérivant et en sortant de la conscience, seul le son des pleurs de la femme vint à ses oreilles jusqu'à ce qu'il perde conscience. Il se sentait froid, froid qui était suffisant pour engourdir un homme à son os. Son esprit s'est lentement réveillé, ne sachant pas où il était. Il ne se souvenait pas se sentir froid dans le royaume des roses blanches encore quelque chose lui a dit qu'il était loin de cet endroit maintenant. Où il n'était pas sûr jusqu'à ce qu'il s'asseyât enfin. Il a vu autour de lui de la neige mais son esprit ne comprenait pas pourquoi? Il était mort, il savait qu'il était encore là, il y avait de la neige. Le paysage n'était pas très différent de la mer des roses blanches, mais c'était le froid qui le rendait sûr qu'il était vivant, la chaleur du sang qui courait dans ses veines le gardant seulement légèrement chaud avec son équipement, équipement qui semblait être intact. C'était son lieu de mort ce dernier jour? C'était la seule chose qu'il pouvait penser à la raison pour laquelle il était seul au milieu du désert. Personne ne savait où il était, il avait toujours travaillé seul dans ses chasses et vivait surtout dans le désert. Le retour à la vie lui a apporté un sentiment de vigueur et de force nouvelle alors qu'il se levait. Il était vivant et pouvait continuer sa tâche, mais il devait d'abord trouver la ville la plus proche. Quelque chose a dit à l'intérieur de se déplacer vers le sud et ainsi il l'a fait, commençant son long voyage vers le sud vers la ville la plus proche, en se baladant à travers la neige un pied à la fois.

Zaccar Drogoth Hunter of the North/Knight of Winter Age: 36 Sex: Male Date of Birth: November 14th Legends Slain: -The Great Gray Wolf of the North -Sealameet the Everlasting Dragon -Yharnis, the Weaver of the Nightmare -Maneating Boar -Darkbeast Guyral -Scorth, Queen of Shadows -The Abhorrent One Slain By: A beast that appears under a blood red moon beckoned by it's calling. Oedon the Old One. Appearance: Personality: He is a rather impassive person, with only one goal in mind, to kill Odeon the Old One. He will kill any beast, demon, or monster that stands in his way however. Despite this cold shoulder nature he can be caring once you get to know him and even might laugh at a joke or two if one is lucky to catch him in a good mood or if you are extremely lucky maybe a smile. Internally he battles over who he is, if this is all he wants out of life? A life of killing beasts or do something beyond that. Lore: Born in the northern lands, he grew up in an environment that was survival of the fittest. His village was deep in the mountains where the sun hardly brought enough light to melt the snow. Yet despite the cruelty of the environment, they survived. He began life as a simple son of a farmer, hearing tales of what lived in the forests and caves around the village, it was off limits to enter them, especially at night when supposedly the beasts came out to hunt any poor wretched soul that did not find cover within their home or at least a tavern. Of course peace does not always last and eventually a beast did attack the village out right. Perhaps it was agitated about something, or it just finally had enough of the village. It struck out tearing the little village apart. The few men who could wield a weapon tried to fight it but were nothing more then a mere agitation to the beast as it killed it's fill of men, women, and children. Not many survived that night and those who did, left the village without hesitation. Zaccar and his family managed to live, though they suffered loses. His uncle had been torn in two, a sister who he would never see again, and his father's arm so mangled it had to be amputated. From that day forth Zaccar knew he would return for vengeance for his people. He grew distant from all he knew and decided to learn the trade of sword fighting. It took many years, longer so to find someone willing to train him but he eventually became the man he needed to be and upon feeling ready, returned to the burned down village of the north to hunt down the beast that destroyed it. He had learned the creatures name, a name spoken under whispers: Odeon the Old One, a beast that lurked under the guide of the moon, only coming out of it's hiding place when a red moon rose. The night it attacked there had indeed been a blood moon. So Zaccar searched and in the mean time, killed many other beasts, the few other people that lived in the north or traded there shared tales of a man who seemed to slaughter the beasts in the harsh realm with ease. His cloak coming from the Great Gray Wolf that had terrorized a village or that the armor he wore came from the dragon Sealameet an ancient resident of the norther mountains. He slayed many beasts but it wasn't for years until he found his pray, Odeon. It spoke to him but what he said Zaccar could not remember even if he wished to. The battle was long and tedious the beast was the hardest thing he had ever fought and in the end the beast won out snapping Zaccar in two and leaving him in a realm of darkness until he would be called again to the hunt. Combat Information Equipment: His longsword which is quite unique because it functions as two weapons really. For you see he can wield the weapon in hand while carrying a shield or he can lock it in place with the large piece on his back and it becomes a greatsword with devastating power. He also carries a shield which is made from the skull of Sealameet the Everlasting Dragon. Another prize he has is his cape which was made from the pelt of the Great Gray Wolf of the North and the horns atop his helm belong to the Elusive Stag, perhaps not a beast that was harmful to men but it was said to be unkillable and he proved otherwise. Shield: Sword: Techniques/Spells: Beast's Claw: It is said that when you hunt beasts for to long, you yourself start becoming one. As flesh is flayed and blood is sprayed, the beast within awakens, and in time, the wielder of this technique surges with both strength and feverish reverie. What once was mortal flesh becomes bestial and clawed to tear prey apart in a fit of frenzy. Beast Roar: This technique borrows the strength of the terrible undead darkbeasts, if only for a moment, to blast surrounding foes back with the force of a roaring beast. Able to deflect projectiles for the short span it is used as well. The indescribable sound is broadcast with the caster's own vocal cords, which begs the question, what terrible things lurk deep within the frames of men? The Mark: Left side of chest

Qu'attendriez-vous d'être la pensée finale de quelqu'un alors qu'ils quittaient ce monde? Est-ce qu'ils méditeraient s'ils menaient une bonne vie, ressentaient du malheur pour les gens qu'ils abandonnaient, souhaiteraient qu'ils se réconcilient pour des erreurs passées, ou peut-être même qu'ils ressentiraient la peur qui vient avec le phénomène mystérieux qui est la mort. Pas une de ces pensées n'a fait leur chemin à travers la tête du dragon autrefois puissant Nighith comme il a posé sur le sol brisé, les bottes d'acier d'un homme fermement placé sur sa poitrine. Tout ce que Nighith pouvait penser c'était que c'était un bon combat, le meilleur combat qu'il avait eu de toute sa vie. Il s'était battu de toutes ses forces, brûlant la terre autour de lui et d'innombrables hommes et femmes avec elle. Il s'était battu pendant des heures, ou était-ce des jours, il ne pouvait plus le dire. Des vagues de chevaliers l'avaient attaqué, tirant des flèches dans sa peau ou tentant de l'affronter de près avec de simples lames. Mais comme les flocons de neige s'empilent l'un sur l'autre pour former une avalanche, les nombres des chevaliers ont fini par dépasser Nighith. Maintenant, il a posé sur le sol mis en valeur par le nombre d'humains et la planification d'un seul homme, celui qui se tenait sur sa poitrine dans la victoire. Daud, un chevalier qui cherchait à réparer les torts de ce monde, était celui qui bestia Nighith et maintenant l'homme semblait prêt à terminer son travail. « C'est pour toutes les familles que vous avez déchirées. Pour tous les villages que vous avez brûlés loin de ce monde. Pour votre avidité monstrueuse. Et pour tout mon frère et tous mes assistants en armes que tu as envoyés à leur grand-père! Daud souffle alors qu'il leva sa lame au-dessus de sa tête. Le chevalier puis rapidement et avec hésitation a plongé son épée à travers la poitrine et le cœur de Nighith. La scène a commencé à s'estomper pour Nighith alors que Daud a commencé à enlever son épée, apportant le cœur du dragon avec elle. Les bruits de chevaliers applaudissant et crépitant les feux s'éteignirent, les odeurs de sang versé et de chair carbonisée s'évanouirent, et la vue du beau ciel nocturne s'évanouissait à mesure que les lumières des yeux de Nighith s'éteignaient. Mais comme une vision s'est évanouie, une autre est apparue. Une mer de Nighith blanc aveuglé pendant un moment, ses yeux prenant un moment pour s'ajuster et reconnaître qu'il était debout dans un champ de roses de couleur neige sans fin. Nighith ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de se demander, il marchait sur le terrain pendant des minutes, puis des heures, puis des jours, puis des mois, puis le temps s'arrêtait à l'importance et tout ce que Nighith pouvait faire était simplement réfléchir à ses propres pensées. Le plus fréquent était à propos de l'endroit où il était maintenant confiné. Si c'était une damnation éternelle, ce n'était pas ce que Nighith attendait. Il attendait un monde de feu et de soufre, rempli des cris des méchants et des méchants, un lieu de douleur et de misère inébranlables. Puis encore une fois peut-être que cela lui convenait, il a passé la majorité de sa vie à transformer le monde des vivants en une telle terre de feu et de misère. C'est à une époque où Nighith était perdu parmi ces pensées qu'il l'a vue. La femme a commencé une robe qui s'est mélangée dans le champ de roses dans lequel elle se tenait. Son visage était couvert de ses mains qui étaient à leur tour couvertes de sang, quelque chose de Nighith comme tout à fait familier avec. La femme pleurait doucement, mais ses pleurs étaient le seul son dans le monde entier. Nighith l'a approchée avec suspicion, était-elle une autre âme maudite pour errer dans ce champ, était-elle une de ses victimes passées, toutes ces questions ont couru à travers la tête de Nighith jusqu'à ce que le monde s'assombrisse. Les yeux de Nighith étaient ouverts, il était sûr qu'il ne devait pas y avoir d'obscurité, il lui a fallu un moment pour se rendre compte que sa vue était obstruée par quelque chose. Il était solide et froid, deux choses qu'il avait presque oubliées dans le domaine du blanc. C'était une grande pierre, plus exactement il était beaucoup de pierres que Nighith était entouré par eux. De l'extérieur sa petite pierre gardant Nighith pouvait entendre des voix basses, comme s'ils chantaient, mais il y avait une autre voix. C'était masculin et plein de fierté. Qui était l'homme qu'il croyait de tout cœur dans ce qu'il disait, ce qui était le long de la ligne de « De son souffle vint des feux si intenses qu'ils brûlèrent pendant des décennies! ». Nighith pressa la main contre la pierre qui était directement au-dessus de lui, il fut posé comme au repos, mais il se retira pour bouger. Il a laissé un léger soupir d'ennui avant d'essayer d'utiliser un peu plus de force, rien. Finalement Nighith a laissé un faible grognement et a frappé la pierre avec toute sa puissance, il a craqué et est rapidement allé naviguer à travers l'atterrissage aérien quelque part avec un fort accident. Tandis qu'il s'asseyait, la poussière de la pierre s'installait sur lui, les voix qui chantaient s'arrêtaient. Il a fallu un moment à Nighith pour enregistrer ce qu'il voyait. Il venait de se briser d'un tombeau de quelques sortes, il avait des marques qui dépeignaient un grand dragon respirant le feu sur un champ de guerriers sculptés dans chacun de ses côtés. La chambre qu'il avait entrée semblait se trouver dans une sorte de grotte à en juger par les parois rocheuses, bien que des marques semblables à celles sur le tombeau ornaient les murs avec des torches qui illuminaient la grotte. Quant aux occupants de la grotte, ceux qui étaient la source du chant, ils étaient des hommes et des femmes de différents âges, des jeunes enfants aux personnes âgées, vêtus de robes pourris profondes. Ils regardèrent tous Nighith dans un silence choqué, y compris l'homme qui se tenait devant le groupe le plus proche de Nighith. "Y-You..." L'homme a étouffé, révélant qu'il était la voix masculine de tout à l'heure. "Vous êtes Nighith. L'homme a réussi à finir. Nighith rétrécissait les yeux alors qu'il marchait sur le côté du tombeau, il n'avait pas encore remarqué sa forme humaine nue, mais il ne s'intéressait guère en ce moment même s'il le faisait, comme il marchait vers l'homme. Nighith tournait sur l'homme, littéralement, comme il a regardé vers lui. "Comment connais-tu cet homme?" Nighith dit à l'homme, sa voix froide dégoulinant de venin. L'homme tomba presque immédiatement à genoux en louange. "Oh, c'est bien!" Il s'est exclamé, le reste des occupants de la chambre bientôt costume de jachère. Après son indignation et l'homme s'est levé à ses pieds Nighith lui a demandé d'expliquer ce qui se passait exactement. Il s'avère que c'était un culte qui s'est formé peu après la mort de Nighith pour louer la puissance et la force du dragon. "Si grand que vous pouvez voir pourquoi votre retour est un tel honneur pour nous de témoigner." L'homme dit que la tête s'inclinait. Nighith était sur le point de clin d'œil quand le coin de l'œil a aperçu quelque chose. C'était un trône qui était clairement fait des os d'une grande créature et bordé de velours. -- Qu'est-ce que c'est? Nighith demanda de sa voix froide, suscitant un cri de l'homme, qui avait dit à Nighith qu'il était le grand prêtre du culte. "Que oh grand est le trône de Jaw rushing il est fait de Nighith-" Avant qu'il puisse finir Nighith avait attrapé le grand prêtre par la gorge et a levé sans effort l'homme dans les airs. "Tu as utilisé mes os pour faire une chaise?" Nighith a dit, sa voix un grognement qui pourrait secouer les hommes adultes à leur cœur. Le grand prêtre a essayé de répondre, mais sa voix n'est apparue que comme un gag étouffé, Nighith connaissait déjà la réponse. Les yeux du dragon resplendit un rouge plus profond alors qu'il serre son emprise autour du cou du prêtre plus serré. C'est peut-être un moment plus tard, jusqu'à ce que la pop humide grotesque remplisse la grotte et que le prêtre soit tombé au sol, sans vie et boiteux. Nighith se tourna vers les autres cultes, le sang cramoisi coulant dans son bras. Ils le regardaient tous dans un mélange de peur et d'admiration. Les yeux de Nighith revinrent à leur couleur normale alors qu'il regardait le groupe. "Maintenant... quelqu'un m'apporte une robe." Il a dit simplement. Nighith était de retour, il ne savait ni comment ni pourquoi, mais il était de retour et il avait prévu de tirer le meilleur parti de tout ça.

Name Nighith Epithet Nighith The Scourge Of The Night Skies, The Rushing Jaws, Bringer Of The Burning Winds Age Died At The Age Of 2937 Sex Male Date of Birth October 31st Legends Slain Sulavin The Dark Tower, Zosth Dragon Of The Depths, Lillith The Temptress, Mulvain Wyrm-Heart, Ernoc The Foul, Old Penoul One-Eye, The Giant Brothers Of The Western Mountains Slain By Daud The Blade Of Retribution And His Band Of Justice Seekers Appearance Humanoid Form When Nighith is in his humanoid form he is a towering individual, standing a little over seven feet tall, with a slender build, though he does not appears to be lanky. His hair is as black as night and hangs neatly down past his neck. His skin is a startling grey color, further proving he is not human. He has four horns that sprout from his head and curve towards the back of his head. His face has sharp features, giving him a regal type look to him. His eyes are a literal burning fiery red, they give off a faint light that only grows with his anger. His ears are quite odd as they end with three points. His body is peppered with scars, such as the one that goes over his left eye, the most noticeable of which is the large jagged one that is over where his heart should be. Dragon Form When Nighith takes his true form he becomes quite the fearsome looking creature. He grows dramatically is size, easily becoming larger than the average home. He sprouts enormous wings from his back that have unimaginable strength. He becomes covered in dark grey and black scales. He also sprouts two more horns, bringing the total up to six. His teeth are replaced by razor sharp fangs and his nails turn into deadly claws. His eyes turn into burning infernos with reptilian slits for pupils. Like in his humanoid form Nighith has a large scar over his heart. Personality A few decades of battle can turn the most cheerful of men hardened and cold, imagine what multiple centuries could do, that is exactly what has happened to Nighith. Lifetimes of battling his own kind, foolish humans trying to make themselves legends, and greedy treasure hunters has left this dragon with a bitter taste in his mouth and cynical out look on the world. Nighith firmly believes that people will always look out for their own well being over others in the end, not hesitating to stab each other in the back when the opportunity rises. Though his out look may be steely he still has a fiery wrath that if triggered will burn his foes to a crisp. Lore Nighith's beginnings were like many other dragons, he was a hatchling among his dozen other siblings. He was raised by his mother for a few years until she deemed that his children were ready to strike out on there own, Nighith and his siblings spread to the corners of the Earth ready to set up their own nests. Nighith attacked the world with the same enthusiasm of every young dragon, he loved the thrill of battles with other creatures and the sight of his fire burning a village to nothing but dust. He spent centuries amassing his hoard of stolen treasures, he acquired so much that it could fund a kingdom for lifetimes. Along with his fortune came the renown of being a vicious dragon and along with that came the challengers. There were countless amounts of them, human and monster alike, all came to him in the hopes of slaying him and taking the fame that would come along with it. Needless to say they all failed The years upon years of ransacking kingdoms, burning knights into ash stains, and defending his hoard from other beasts began to weigh on Nighith. He started to see the people of the world for what they truly are, greed driven beings that have the nerve to call everything else a monster. He spent centuries with his bitter thoughts until he was finally slain by Daud and his band of other knights, Daud took Nighith's heart as a trophy and proof that someone had finally slain the dragon. Nighith thought that was the end until he awoken from what felt like a slumber with a feeling he forgot about, the feeling of wanting to actively seek battle and bloodshed. Equipment Even while in human form Nighith has strength that far surpasses that of a human, being able to pick up and toss full grown men with one arm. He is also far faster and more durable than humans. While in his dragon form Nighith's strength only increases as well as he gains claws and fangs that are capable of ripping flesh and breaking bone. His scales are also incredibly thick, normal weapons basically bounce off of him. Techniques/Spells Dragon Fire- Nighith is able to breath a fire, both while in humanoid and dragon form, that is far more intense than a normal flame. Humanoid Transformation- Nighith is able to change back and forth between his humanoid and dragon forms at will.

Un peu plus de deux heures après sa confrontation avec les loups, Aglovale arriva finalement à destination : Oldenstead. Il a maintenant porté un manteau beige en lambeaux avec une capuche portée sur sa tête. C'était sa tentative de rester discret. Aglovale a également réussi à trouver un ruisseau plus tôt dans lequel laver le sang qui lui a câblé les mains. Le petit village d'Oldenstead était calme; tout le monde était enfermé dans ses maisons. Il a perplexe Aglovale de voir le village dans un tel état mais, à l'heure actuelle, il avait d'autres choses en tête. Bientôt, il s'approcha du bord du village où se trouvait une taverne. L'Aube Maiden - un établissement qui fonctionne depuis deux décennies et qui n'a été fondé que par le Seigneur Bright lui-même: Aglovale. Le même Aglovale qui se tient devant lui maintenant. À l'intérieur de l'Aube Maiden, un homme au milieu des années soixante se tient derrière le bar pour nettoyer diverses tasses d'argent avec un chiffon humide. Les portes en bois de la taverne s'ouvrent soudainement et arrivent Aglovale. "Nous sommes fermés pour la nuit. Reviens demain matin." le barman a dit instinctivement droit comme il a entendu quelqu'un entrer. "Depuis quand cette ville est-elle si vide le soir?" Aglovale demanda alors qu'il s'approchait du comptoir du bar. Le barman s'est arrêté et l'a regardé de façon suspecte. "Certainement, vous plaisantez. Depuis que les morts ont commencé à revenir à la vie, tout le monde a été enfermé dans ses maisons la nuit. » Comme il l'a expliqué, l'entretien furtivement atteint pour un couteau sous le comptoir. "Tu n'essaies pas de tuer un vieil ami, Balin?" Aglovale a beaucoup demandé à la surprise de l'entretien de bar. "Qui êtes-vous? Tu n'es pas assez vieux pour être un ami à moi." Balin a dit qu'il avait mis son couteau sur le comptoir tout en le saisissant. "Au contraire, j'ai quelques années sur vous si je me souviens bien. Maintenant, gardez-vous toujours le Caliburn dans le bureau arrière?" Aglovale a demandé à qui Balin a finalement réalisé à qui il parlait. "Vous ne pouvez pas... Aglovale...?" Balin a demandé avec hésitation. Après un certain temps, Balin était finalement convaincu que la personne à qui il parle est en fait Aglovale de la légende et de son vieil ami. "Vous êtes l'un d'eux..." Balin a dit gravement. "A 'risen', vous avez dit?" Aglovale a demandé. Balin a tout simplement hissé dans l'affirmation. "Avez-vous déjà ressenti le désir de tuer?" Balin a demandé. Au début, Aglovale était calme. "Oui, je l'ai fait. J'ai tué plusieurs loups en venant ici. Soyez assuré, Balin. Jusqu'à présent, ils semblent avoir étouffé mon effusion de sang." "C'est vrai? D'habitude, il faut la mort d'un humain pour satisfaire la soif de sang d'un ressuscité. » Balin a répondu par suspicion à la déclaration d'Aglovale. "Je sais que tu ne peux pas me faire confiance, mais tu n'as pas d'autre choix. J'ai besoin de savoir où je peux aller pour en savoir plus sur cette "plague de sang"." Aglovale a déclaré. Les soupirs de Balin. "Malheureusement, je suis impuissante à t'arrêter. Si vous voulez vraiment en savoir plus sur la peste du sang, cherchez la cathédrale de Pendragahst. Outre les archiprêtres du Palais du Matin lui-même, les archiprêtres de Pendragahst auront le plus d'informations sur la peste du Sang." "Merci." Aglovale dit qu'il se lève. "J'ai besoin du Caliburn." -- Ai-je le choix en la matière? Balin a demandé. "Pas vraiment." Aglovale répondit. Un peu plus tard, Aglovale a récupéré les Caliburn de Balin ainsi qu'un changement de vêtements. "Et Wrathbone. Qu'en est-il de cette épée maintenant?" «Vendu à la Fraternité des armes comme vous l'avez demandé avant de quitter votre mission pour l'Eglise et à votre mort brutale. Dites-moi : pourquoi avez-vous poursuivi les Cinq Rois Célestes? » Honnêtement, je ne me souviens pas. Le seul souvenir que j'ai avant de mourir, c'est le moment où j'ai été tué par eux. Cela et mon regret de ne pas pouvoir dire adieu à Morgan. Comment va-t-elle dernièrement? Je ne peux pas imaginer qu'elle travaille ici plus longtemps." "Vous avez raison. Elle n'est plus là. Après votre mort, Morgan est parti en voyage pour qui sait où. J'ai essayé de l'arrêter mais... tu peux trouver le reste. En tout cas, je travaille ici depuis quinze ans et il n'y a pas eu de nouvelles d'elle." -- Je vois... répondit Aglovale avant d'approcher de la porte pour partir. -- Vous réalisez que je dois vous signaler à l'Église, n'est-ce pas? "Tu fais ce dont tu as besoin, Balin. Je ne vous blâme pas pour votre prudence. Cependant, vous pouvez envoyer ces prêtres à leur mort si vous le faites. Au revoir, mon vieil ami. J'espère que tu n'auras plus jamais de nouvelles de moi." Ce sont les derniers mots d'Aglovale avant qu'il ne parte. Alors qu'il sortait du village, il regarda à distance et contempla son nouveau but : trouver la vérité sur la peste du sang.

Name: Aglovale "Aglo" Pennore Epithet: Sir Aglovale of the Brightsword; Bright Lord Aglovale; Aglovale of Tarvayne Age: 100+ (Appears 17) Sex: Male Date of Birth: July 24th Legends Slain: Kingslayer Esclabor; Great Iron King; Salamander Zant; Good Blood Witch; The Beast of Tarvayne Slain By: The Five Heavenly Kings Height: 5'05" Weight: 114 lbs Mark Appearance: Click Here Mark Location: Left side of chestAglovale, or as his close compatriots refer to him simply as Aglo, is characterized predominantly by his frankness and straightforward attitude. He is also known for his utter fearlessness both on and off the field of battle. Despite appearing to be a very calm and composed person, Aglovale is quick to anger against those he find disrespectful and, especially, those who threaten his allies. Ever since his unusual resurrection, Aglovale seems to have developed a dark side when under the influence of the bloodlust. He becomes cold, quiet, ruthless, and murderous unless he finds a way to satisfy his dark urges. In his long life, Aglovale has managed to acquire many allies as well as enemies but none of his other relationships matter more than of that between him and his adopted daughter, Morgan. Aglovale's closest comrades describe Morgan as, "the only person Aglovale truly loves." Aglovale's deepest regret is that he died before he could say goodbye to his daughter.Much of Aglovale's early childhood is unknown. He was abandoned in the small village of Tarvayne located near the mountain regions of the Great Continent. He was taken in by the chapter of the Holy Church located within the village. Aglovale was an odd child. He never spoke more than a word or two to anybody and always seemed to disappear off somewhere during all hours of the day. However, even as a child, he harbored great potential within himself. When a gigantic beast began terrorizing the village of Tarvayne, the villagers were quick to entertain the idea of abandoning their homes. But at only the age of nine, Aglovale, with a makeshift spear in hand, traversed the mountains to face the beast in its lair. The result? Aglovale came back to the village with the beast's severed head in tow, impaled on the spearhead. The tale of Aglovale of Tarvayne began to spread to the nearby towns and settlements. "The Beast of Tarvayne was slain by a mere child," the stories went. Aglovale became somewhat of a small legend in that local region as a result of his brave action. Consequently, the sisters of Tarvayne's chapel decided to send Aglovale to Pendragahst, the capital city of Astoria, to join the ranks of the Holy Church. But once he got there, he instead showed such great prowess that he was recruited as a Knight of the First Sword - Lord Galant's personal army; Aglovale was only fifteen at the time. In his time as a Knight of the First Sword, Aglovale vanquished the likes of the Good Blood Witch and the fearsome dragon, Salamander Zant. From the mountains of treasure hoarded by Salamander Zant, Aglovale received two weapons of legendary fame: the Brightsword Caliburn and the Demon Sword Wrathbone. As the years went by, the names "Sir Aglovale of the Brightsword" and "Bright Lord Aglovale" were immortalized by the people of the kingdoms and beyond. The bards sing praises of Aglovale's heroic exploits and adventures. "The lord who wield the Brightsword Caliburn," they would sing in his honor. In the later years of his life, Aglovale relinquished his title of Knight when he saved a little girl named Morgan - his adopted daughter. Aglovale retired and opened up his own tavern in the hopes of living out the rest of his life in tranquil bliss. Of course the curse of the immortalized had other plans for him. Aglovale, by request of the Holy Church, went on to slay the Great Iron King and even Kingslayer Esclabor who was once one of Lord Galant's most trusted knights. But for some reason after fulfilling the request, Aglovale turned rogue and went after the Five Heavenly Kings who are stern allies of Lord Galant and the Holy Church considering their involvement in the war against the Church of the Good Blood. Alas, he alone was not enough to fell the Five Kings. Their might proved too much for the Bright Lord and his death came swiftly. In the final moments of his life, all Aglovale could think about was his regret of not being able to say goodbye to Morgan. That day, a legend was ended. It wasn't until years later that the blight arrived and began to resurrect the dead; with one of the risen being the Bright Lord, himself. Combat Information Caliburn: A legendary weapon of lore said to have been wielded by a great king preceding the Age of Blood, the Caliburn is also known by the epithet, the Brightsword, because of its innate ability to control light. Interestingly, Caliburn's power scales by the time of day. Starting at sunrise, the Caliburn gradually grows in strength until it reaches its apex at noon then it begins to diminish in power until nightfall. Furthermore, Caliburn has two additional forms it can change into: a longsword and a greatsword. In its passive state, it exists as a shortsword with a blade length of only two feet. The wielder of this sword must be deemed worthy by the sword, itself, before they can access its other forms. Wrathbone: The Demon Sword Wrathbone is a legendary weapon said to contain monstrous amounts of power. During the Age of Blood, the Wrathbone appeared in the world and was wielded by a powerful demon knight whose name was lost in history, overshadowed by this very blade. The sword thrives off the blood of its victims, growing increasingly more powerful with every foe it slays. Furthermore, it feeds off of its wielder's rage, growing stronger as a result of it; hence the name "Wrathbone". The full potential of this sword is unknown because, for some reason, Aglovale is highly reluctant to use it. Bright Lord Armor: The set of armor worn by the legendary Bright Lord himself. Crafted from dragon fire-tempered steel and dragon bone from Salamander Zant, this armor is powerful enough to deter Aglovale from the idea of using a shield during his time with the Knights of the First Sword. However, ever since his retirement from the Knights, Aglovale has retired the armor.Slaying Wave: When Caliburn's blade is enveloped in light energy, Aglovale can release it as a destructive wave of power capable of cutting through thick rock. The speed of the attack is also quite impressive. At release, it can cover a distance of 110 meters in about four seconds. Counter: This technique was created by Aglovale out of necessity due to the fact that he does not use a shield. Using a sword, in this case Caliburn, Aglovale can redirect an opponent's attack in full when timed at the correct moment. Depending on his preference, Aglovale can redirect the attack right back at its user or even towards another enemy. Of course, Aglovale can only use his Counter if an enemy has initiated an attack first. Bright Lord's Spear: When Caliburn is enveloped in light energy, Aglovale can thrust the blade at an encroaching enemy and release the light energy in a straight line. The result will be a spear-like attack that can potentially impale the strongest of armor.

Isabeau a cligné quelques fois, recommençant à se concentrer. Elle avait glissé dans un dédale... ou du moins elle pensait. Bien que cela ait eu l'impression d'une éternité depuis que son corps a été mis dans le sol. Tout ce qui s'est passé après était flou, jusqu'à maintenant. Depuis combien de temps suis-je sorti? Elle a réfléchi. Un rapide virage de sa tête pour évaluer son emplacement l'a fait doubler dans la douleur. Les événements sont apparus dans son esprit, ses souvenirs, son corps s'est évanoui tout au long de sa vie, ce qui s'était passé hier soir. Elle avait travaillé tranquillement pour découvrir un traître au sein de leur organisation. Leur nombre a diminué rapidement au cours des derniers mois, sans aucune explication. Bien sûr, il était naturel pour ses frères de prendre un congé prolongé, d'être parti pendant des mois à la fois, mais quelque chose ne se sentait pas bien. Non... il n'y avait rien de juste à propos de ce qui se passait. Marcher dans les jardins lui a toujours calmé l'esprit. Mais elle ne pouvait pas ébranler le sentiment troublant qu'elle avait cette nuit-là. Elle a senti quelqu'un derrière elle. Elle a atteint la dague à sa taille et a rapidement pivoté. Personne n'était là. Mais quand elle se tourna une fois de plus pour continuer à travers les jardins, elle le vit. Certains pourraient penser que c'est lui qu'il était pour elle qu'elle a laissé tomber sa garde à ce moment-là. À d'autres, le simple a pensé à être trahi par celui que vous aimez qui a brisé sa détermination dans les derniers instants de leur bataille. Quoi qu'il en soit, tout s'est terminé avec son poignard dans sa poitrine. Elle secoua la tête, laissant passer les souvenirs de sa vue. Quand elle ouvrit les yeux une fois de plus, elle fixa une mer sans fin de blanc. Elle avait été assise dans un grand champ de roses blanches, étirée au-delà de ce que ses yeux pouvaient voir, se mêlant parfaitement dans un ciel gris dingy, poussière avec des nuages blancs dingy. Elle a glissé doucement et a pensé à elle-même Est-ce cet enfer, ou ai-je trouvé mon chemin vers un autre endroit oublié parmi les étoiles? Un bruit étrange l'avait arrachée de ses pensées. C'était si étranger au début, jusqu'à ce qu'il commence à s'infiltrer dans son noyau même. Elle se tourna pour voir ce qui avait fait le bruit, et fut surprise de voir une femme assise juste à côté d'elle. D'où vient-elle dans cet enfer?! Elle s'est cognée la tête sur le côté, examinant l'étrange femme. Sa robe s'est mélangée avec la mer sans fin des roses. Une pensée a rapidement traversé son esprit et elle était reconnaissante pour le manque d'arôme du champ. Car s'ils avaient senti, ce serait vraiment l'enfer dans laquelle elle était assise. Soit ça, soit son propre service funéraire. Au fur et à mesure que son regard s'avançait, elle remarqua que les mains trempées de sang de la femme craignaient son visage. Bien qu'ils aient étouffé ses sanglots, le bruit semblait être partout maintenant, de plus en plus fort et intense. Un petit mandrin lui échappa, devenant lentement plus fort et plus rassasié. Elle ne pouvait pas s'en empêcher. S'il y avait un sens à ça, oh l'ironie derrière tout ça. Elle enterra son visage dans les pétales doux comme elle coulait dans le champ de fleurs, son rire se fondant en larmes amères. Elle s'y est couchée en sanglotant, inconsolable, et ses cris correspondent à la femme à côté d'elle jusqu'à ce qu'elle s'endorme. Ses yeux s'ouvrirent dans une panique, elle saisit sa poitrine et tenta désespérément de reprendre son souffle. Elle a dû faire un cauchemar car son cœur était... son corps gelé, son regard dardé autour d'elle, la tension dans sa main libérée alors qu'elle mettait sa paume à plat sur sa poitrine. Il battait! La course plutôt, et plus elle y réfléchissait, plus elle battait vite. Elle était complètement entourée par l'obscurité et avait très peu d'espace pour se déplacer. Suis-je coincé dans ma propre tombe? C'est impossible, je dois rêver ou... elle a légèrement levé sa tunique, a balancé ses doigts sur ses blessures, à la recherche de la cicatrice. Le voilà! Mais ça ne pouvait pas être réel, n'est-ce pas? En portant ses poings sur le bois au-dessus de sa tête, elle les battit contre la surface dure jusqu'à ce qu'elle le sente éclater et craquer sous la pression de ses articulations. Dirt a commencé à s'écrouler pendant qu'elle traversait. Bientôt même le clair de lune s'est déversé dans son petit fossé et elle était libre. Gratuit. Ce mot lui semblait si étrange. Il lui a fallu sa mort pour y arriver. Mais comment? Elle a brossé la saleté de ses vêtements, et a remarqué le sang sur ses mains. "Je suis vraiment vivant, n'est-ce pas" dit-elle, se vantant de la teinte de sang qui scintille au clair de lune. -- Mais comment? Et avec cela, elle a fait son chemin de l'alcôve sous l'arbre, elle a traversé les bois jusqu'à ce qu'elle trouve une route. Si elle était vraiment vivante, il y avait tant de choses qu'elle voulait faire. Mais d'abord sur sa liste, elle avait besoin de savoir ce qui lui est arrivé et pourquoi elle s'est retrouvée vivante et ici.

Isabeau Falkenrath Aliases: Lady Millisandre DeFlur, Alexandria Cortese Epithet: Fireheart, Shadow walker Age: died at the age of 26 Sex: female Birth date: July 13th Legends Slain: Amari- High Witch of the Ironteeth Clan, The Desert Prince, High Priestess Adalynn of the Black Hand, the White Dragon of the Dark Spires, Lyndon and Jake Brice (The Brice Bandits), Cain- Champion of the Northern Badlands, Asher- Leader of the Silent Brotherhood Slain By: James Holde - First officer of the Assassin’s Guild and betrothed to Isabeau Isabeau has short auburn hair. It is longer in the front, sitting just below her chin. Bangs, neatly parted to the side, hang over her forehead and just barely brush over her eyebrows. Her eyes are something to behold; light green surrounded by a thin ring of gold. Freckles sprinkle lightly over her nose. She stands at about 5’7” tall, a petite upper body sitting upon wider hips and thick thighs. Not overly muscular though her body is tone. When exposed, displayed on her back are a number of scars, some seeming a bit more prominent. On the outside, she's cold and calculating, quiet and reserved. However there is a burning passion within her. Vengeance simmers from her pores and hatred seeps through every exhale. She wasn't always like this though. And deep down inside, there is a hope for redemption, to return to the wildfire she once was, burning bright and free. Though actual details of her birth are a mystery, there are rumors of a witch who fell in love with a prince from a far away land. The prince had journied far in search of a magical herb that was said to cure a sickness plaguing his kingdom. He came upon a young woman living deep within the woods. Beautiful in every way imaginable, the Prince became enthralled with the young woman and insisted that she leave the woods and return with him to his castle. But she could not leave her home. For she was a witch, just as her mother before her, and so on down the line. Their family and gifts had been banished from the kingdom long ago, and since, had taken refuge in the forest, tending to the wilds and those who lived within its sanctuary. Unsatisfied, the prince vowed that he would speak with his father to lift their exile if she would return with him as his bride. Gleefully, the young woman accepted. And with the prince as her guest, she spent her last few days in the woods saying her goodbyes and making arrangements for after she left. Those last few nights blanketed by the stars, we're magical for her and the prince, though as the story goes, it was the last shred of happiness for the young couple. Grandmother Amari, the high witch of their clan, had high expectations for the young witch. Plans which did not include the Prince, plans which would've been especially ruined if the prince took her away to become a princess in the castle. Though a silver lining appeared that would help Amari's plans along. And so the high witch gathered her kin, and her plot for war went into action. The night before the two lovers were to leave for the castle, Amari had one of the youngest within their clan travel to the cottage where the two were staying. She silently crept in, cloaked within the shadows and darkness of the night. With one clean swipe of her blade, she sliced his throat open, and without anyone noticing, made her way back out. He bled out onto the bed next to his beloved, who never stirred, and never realized his death until the next morning. It wasn’t until many months later did they all realize the young witch was with child and when the news had traveled to the High Witch, it was ordered to discard the baby once it was born. The young witch with fire red hair and green eyes encircled with a gold ring would never know her daughter. Despite her childhood being sprinkled with happiness here and there, betrayal and despair became common for her as she grew older unfortunately. Bred into a world of death and darkness, she was raised within the Keep of the Assassin’s Guild and was honed into the land’s deadliest weapon. She was taught to cast all emotions aside, especially that of love. Though Isabeau was very passionate and vibrant, just as her mother. Her only downfall, her one weakness is what led her to her death. Combat Information: Through her training, she has become a jack of all trades. Though her favorite weapon is the rapier saddled on her left hip. She has a dagger hidden within her boots and one strapped to her belt opposite from her sword. The dagger hanging from her belt is a curved dagger, with a ruby embedded within the hilt. She typically wears light fabrics, leathers and cloths of darker shades, red being her favorite color. Part of the reason why the witches wanted to do away with her because she did not have the affinity for magic as they did. However her time in the Assassin’s Keep allowed her to develop other skills and techniques: Shadow Prison: Isabeau is able to shadow step to her foe for an attack. During this attack, her foe’s movement speed is drastically reduced temporarily Wild Blow: Isabeau is able to manipulate the shadows around her weapons, increasing the damage done by her attacks. The attack is usually used when attempting to sunder a shield. Wildfire: Despite not having the understanding of the weave, as the witches did, Isabeau was bestowed with a gift from her mother. The gift of Wildfire. This gift takes an enormous amount of energy to control and wield. When called upon, the shadows immediately surrounding Isabeau will ignite and deadly flames will surround her as well as coat her sword, adding fire damage to her attacks. This generally leaves Isabeau quite drained afterwards ~~*~~

Se sentant revitalisé par son court duel avec les dizaines de mages de puissance moyenne, il se discuta si ou non voyageant à pied, en brume ou en vol. À pied, il restait indétecté plus longtemps mais faisait le temps le plus lent, et l'utilisation de deux pieds était quelque chose qu'il regardait toujours vers le bas. La brume dépend beaucoup trop du vent, mais encore une fois, le vent reprenait avec sa tempête, et il pouvait l'utiliser pour voyager. Herm... Il n'avait pas pensé à ça avant. Enfin, il pouvait sauter son chemin vers la ville la plus proche dans sa forme la plus puissante, naturelle, mais les chasseurs de légendes pas si aimables pourraient le voir et en profiter. Il soupçonnait que les soubresauts de son cœur, de son esprit et de son âme seraient très précieux pour les bijoux ou comme trophée. Comme il venait de décider de la forme de brouillard, il a détecté quelque chose... un soupçon de magie, derrière lui. Il se retourna dans le temps pour voir une figure cachée sortir de l'ombre de plusieurs arbres, et relâcher une flèche. Les flèches ne le dérangent pas, elles ne sont que des "coureurs" dans sa forme mortelle, et même alors, elles sont facilement éparpillées et jetées. Mais cette flèche était très différente. La magie tournait autour d'elle. Il sentit son sortilège atteindre l'autre à elle, drainant la flèche si rapidement et si paisiblement que la flèche n'a même pas hésité dans son vol. L'impact de la flèche, cependant, a été plus que prévu. L'arbre était aussi long que son bras- donc il était probablement d'une longbow, un peu un. Il a trébuché sur le côté car il a heurté le côté de sa poitrine, probablement juste à l'extérieur du cœur d'un mortel. Lui? Sa forme de brouillard a commencé à s'en échapper, faisant semblant d'être une sorte de sang légendaire. Plus il s'est échappé... assez lentement, plus il a semblé s'affaiblir. En effet, trois autres flèches le frappent rapidement, plus vite que Zaélios ne le croyait possible. Et pourtant, il n'est toujours pas tombé. Au lieu de cela, ses mains tendirent la main et s'emparèrent d'épées éthérées, resplendissantes et nageant avec de l'énergie et de la lumière pourpre et bleue. Avec des épées dans les deux mains, il s'est précipité à la position de l'ennemi arcman-il pourrait sauver son autre forme pour plus tard. Six autres flèches l'ont frappé avant qu'il n'arrive à l'atteindre, en fonction de la longueur des cheveux pendant qu'ils se tournaient pour courir, et il a tout simplement jeté son épée pendant que l'archer de lithe tournait la queue. L'épée s'est changée en couteau avant qu'il ne quitte sa main, et l'archer ne cherchait pas à voir ce qui lui arrivait. Un thoud, une tape à la froideur glaciale de l'arme magique, et puis elle est tombée. Zaélios, pendant ce temps, regarda les flèches qui sortaient de sa poitrine, aggravées. L'un d'eux avait même percé son casque, en s'accrochant à l'endroit où son œil droit aurait dû être. Curieusement, ça fait mal, même si pas autant qu'un humain pourrait le ressentir, un humain serait mort. Il s'approcha d'un de ses poings gantés, et l'enfila, regardant curieusement la tête large en acier, qui autrefois tenait la magie. Il était couvert de sang, mais c'était propre quand il l'a frappé. Qu'est-ce qui lui est arrivé? L'archer se déplaçait faiblement alors qu'il tirait le reste des flèches, les jetant dans une pile soignée à côté de l'archer. Il se sentait lui-même, sentant les multiples trous où son armure était percée, et se couvrant lentement en arrière, se réparant. Il a essayé de le réparer consciemment, comme il l'avait pu auparavant, et au lieu de cela, l'armure est tombée, comme il l'avait simplement enlevé. Il s'est dissipé dans sa brume, en recouvrant le sol autour de lui, alors qu'il regardait un corps humain. Bien sûr, l'œil droit était sanglant, et il pouvait voir le sang en couler, mais ça n'a pas fait beaucoup de mal. Sa poitrine était couverte d'une tunique vert clair, cachant une poitrine musclée, et il portait un pantalon en tissu brun. Curieusement, puisqu'il n'avait jamais eu de forme humaine. Les mages ont-ils utilisé un sacrifice? Peut-être qu'ils ont dû utiliser l'un des leurs pour lui rendre sa vie. Ils l'ont ramené? Ça en avait l'air. Il leva ses mains rugueuses, et les fixa un moment à l'arrière, puis les retourna pour voir la paume. Et sur les deux paumes, il y avait un marquage rouge-sang d'une drague sans ailes, arcant de son pouce à son rose, avec de petits boulons de foudre rouge tirant dans l'intérieur de ses doigts. Et soudain, il a senti une balle de culpabilité tirer à travers lui. Il fixa ses mains sur l'elfe, le fixa avec des yeux peureux et confus, et le poignard éthéré dans son dos disparut. Les larmes couraient silencieusement, alors qu'il se penchait et commençait à l'aider, malgré ses blessures qui se fermaient très lentement, laissant des trous sanglants dans sa tunique.

Name: Zaelios Epithet: Zaelios the Lightning, Master of Storms, Caller of Storms, Stormcaller, Žaibas Viešpats (Lightning Lord) Age: He's really old cause he's a magical being created a long time ago when magicians were all superpowerful, instead of being weak enough to be controlled by Kings. Sex: Male Date of Birth: A long, long time ago. Legends Slain: - The Mountain King - Valkahar the Swift - The Great Werebear - The Lone Power - Firewyrm of the Western Mountains - Draconian Blazer - Stark Scyther Slain By: The Conjurer of Shadows Humanoid form- Otherworldly armor forged of an unknown dark metal (not exactly black, but dull and dark). Layered plate armor forming full-body medium armor, capable of stopping a waraxe or warhammer while still remaining more fluid and mobile than heavy armor. Based on his ability to turn into a form of multicolored cloud of mist, flesh, blood, and armor are all of magical origin, or heavily influenced and infused with. Magical form- a cloud of mist that can expand to, max, about the size of a car. Capable of all things mist is- getting inside a body, through vents or doors, etc. While very few have even seen him in this form, this is his true form- a cloud of pure magical self-sustaining spells. Powered form- A being of energy, held together by the spellweave that keeps him alive and sentient. This is his most powerful form, and requires regular consumption of mages or something magical in nature. In this form, he is a wingless drake of blue energy, just as large as a house. Combined with his almost-ethereal legs and his innate power, he mainly launches himself like an arrow from a bow to collide powerfully against targets. Destroying and consuming magical Legends makes all forms more powerful. Personality: Spontaneous, indecisive at first but terribly stubborn once decided, confused easily with paradoxes or the like, but can be terribly quick to figure out an ambush. Is also paranoid. Hard to talk to, personally. Lore: "Aye, it's said that the Master of Storms feeds off the power of those around him. He needed naught but the magic in your blood, in anythin's blood, indeed, and he'd starve so, since there are so few. So he'd hunt down other Legends, hunting them down so he'd not starve, using their powers to feed his own accursed strength. Then, one of them figured out how he ticked, and with a single spell, cast him from existence! Only the source of his power was left- a gem the size of your head, a great flawless diamond!" - an old tale told by the old storyteller in the tavern. Combat Information In mortal form: - A greatsword made of the same mysterious dark metal, with a dull red metal lining the edges and the hilt of the sword. Gems are embedded in both the hilt and the winged guard. - Two, dual longswords, hand-and-a-half, made entirely of the dull red metal, strapped to either side of his waist in scabbards made of grey leather, edged by dull, beaten iron. - Six saxe knives (almost like shortswords) set in small scabbards positioned on both his lower legs, his forearms, and next to his longswords. - A bow made from, again, a dark grey wood, reinforced with the same unknown dull dark metal, with runes of unknown origin inscribed across their length. An over-the-shoulder quiver with swan-fletched grey arrows sit. All weapons are very, very magical. In mist form: Well... he has the ability to solidify parts of his mist in unusually light, strong lengths of tentacle-like appendages. The mist itself also erodes at exposed flesh, burning like acid. Since it's a mist, any weapon, magical or otherwise, would likely be ineffective against it. Air spells and the like still have effect, though. In powered form: Magical teeth like shortswords, claws like longswords, magical scale as strong as his armor, but a bit thicker, and dissipates slightly when broken. Breathes the same mist he can turn into, though it's heavier and not as 'alive' as himself, though it still may form up around living creatures until they're consumed. Anything eaten by his own mouth or the mist has all the magic slowly sucked from it to be pulled into Zaelios's life force. Can sometimes shoot magical bolts, depending on necessity. Magical bolts when in mortal or powered form, medium control of elemental powers in mortal form, air elemental powers in powered form. The reality of Zaelios is that he's over a thousand intertwining spells. Actually "killing" him is next to impossible by normal means. Spells of most any kind are generally, in the long run, ineffective, and conventional weapons like arrows or swords are also nearly ineffective. Since he's made of spells, it would take a single master socrerer casting the disperse-magic spell, or a dozen powerful sorcerers, to actually "kill" him, which would leave behind his "soul" in the giant diamond gemstone. The gem itself is where all the spells are anchored. Theoretically, breaking it while he was "alive" or "dead" would permanently kill him, but it's unlikely to even be able to find it before he kills you. He can also summon storms, hence the name.

TRAIN → GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS INTERACTION AVEC } CHAQUE AUTRES () Les salles de bains de train n'étaient pas le cadre le plus romantique, mais elles le feraient pour l'instant. Si le groupe a prévu de courir pendant un certain temps, le ‘soleil et la lune= peut aussi bien s'habituer à cela. Alors que Max sortait de la petite pièce exiguë, il pensait que ce n'était pas une tâche impossible. Traînant ses doigts à travers ses cheveux sales et essayant désespérément de réparer le collier tendu de sa chemise, il a enregistré que le secret serait la partie la plus difficile de cet arrangement. Il y avait, bien sûr, l'option d'avoir l'un ou l'autre rester derrière quelques minutes et sortir à différents moments, mais tout le monde était déjà habitué à eux à l'heure actuelle - et, en outre, ils étaient déjà partis ensemble. Pour les criminels, ils n'étaient pas exactement subtils. Bien qu'il ait certainement voulu, Max n'a pas traîné Spencer; au lieu de cela, il a juste agité une main après lui-même, en faisant signe, pour éviter d'être trop exigeant. Les autres étaient assis quelques rangées vers le bas, encombrés autour de l'un des rares stands disponibles avec une table, et dans divers états d'être: dormir, lire, jouer avec des lecteurs MP3 et d'autres appareils. Sans intérêt dans tout cela, Max est allé pour le journal d'aujourd'hui, évidemment laissé par quelqu'un d'autre. Ses yeux grinçaient dessus et il plisait dans un siège à travers l'allée de leur table, frottant la sueur de son visage avec sa manche comme il le lisait. Une section très spécifique lui a attiré l'attention, et il a envisagé de la présenter aux autres pour qu'ils voient par eux-mêmes, mais bien sûr ils avaient des enfants analphabètes dans le groupe. C'est triste, vraiment. Décidément perturbé par le rapport, il l'a remis à Spencer, sourcillé soudainement. Lire cela, a-t-il dit résigné, ne sait pas s'il faut se sentir découragé par leur apparition dans un texte public ou fier d'une nouvelle renommée. Un groupe d'adolescents de Boston, au Massachusetts, ont disparu après avoir été arrêtés par la police de Boston. Ils ont été vus pour la dernière fois en fuyant les locaux le 15 juillet à 17h, mais près de 2 mois plus tard, il n'y a toujours aucun signe du groupe qui est actuellement surnommé "Les Renegades de Boston". Les autorités ne savent pas comment ces Renegades se sont réunies, ni quel est leur but commun. Cependant, le calendrier de leurs disparitions nous a amenés à croire qu'ils sont impliqués les uns avec les autres d'une manière ou d'une autre. Lire la suite... L'autre garçon l'a pris des mains de Maxs, ses yeux de cèdre scrutant les mots; à la recherche d'une forme de réconfort ou d'orgueil dans ce qui lui était montré. Il n'y avait rien de tel. Son front sillonnait comme il le lisait, regardant ses mugs et ceux de son amant. C'était tellement surréaliste. Il savait qu'ils étaient en fuite, mais il n'a jamais pensé une seconde que quelqu'un les considérerait disparus, ou quelque chose du genre. En fait, voir les nouvelles devant lui est presque devenu un fardeau. Qu'est-ce que... qui sont les Renegades de Boston? Sommes-nous une sorte de groupe pop, maintenant? L'idée d'être démoralisé à rien de plus qu'un nom bon marché était... en colère, pour le moins. Il regarda en arrière Max, un feu brûlant dans ses yeux, mais, en même temps, la tristesse. Comme le feu et la glace, tourbillonnant et dansant à l'iris de cèdre. Soudain, les lumières se sont terminées, tandis que Spencer en vint à se réaliser. Il faut descendre du train. Comme, dès que possible, il murmura, debout brusquement et errant vers l'un des points de sortie. Pour être honnête, il a sucé le cul d'être ‘incompréhensible'. Heureusement pour lui, la voix du conducteur a sauté à travers les haut-parleurs, annonçant leur prochain arrêt - Gloucester, MA. Max's regard suivi Spencer, un peu mal à l'aise avec le changement soudain d'humeur. Mais ce n'était pas hors de la norme pour lui, alors Max s'est levé et est parti juste après, fronçant à l'annonce. Les USA étaient trop gigantesques pour aller très loin du tout - pour être justes, ils n'étaient dans le train que quelques heures, donner ou prendre, mais ils étaient encore dans le même état stupide. Il s'est juste réconforté du fait qu'ils étaient directement sur la côte maintenant. Lorsque les portes du train ont glissé, il a veillé à ce que les autres soient sortis d'abord, prenant un compte tout le temps (bien que les autres passagers n'étaient pas exactement heureux d'obtenir leur route de sortie coupée). Sac à dos serré sur ses épaules d'où il était officiellement sous leur table de train et journal embrayé dans sa main, Max a sauté du train en dernier après Spencer, gardant sa tête baissée pour éviter la reconnaissance. Il a eu la chance d'avoir un visage assez peu impressionnant, mais Spencer... Spencer avait quelques traits très distinctifs. Au moins aucune d'entre elles n'est trop habillée pour s'intégrer au grand public. En fait, Max était habillé d'une chemise noire et d'un jean qui devait être bleu à un moment, mais qui étaient maintenant affligés au point de griser - il avait juste l'air d'un adolescent épouvantable. Probablement pas les meilleurs vêtements pour leur nouveau milieu, le soleil brillant en été et le vent doux. "Vous avez déjà vu l'océan?" Il s'est moqué, s'approchant de l'épaule de Spencer, afin que sa voix puisse être entendue. Nous devons rester ici un moment. Les autorités de transport autour de Boston garderont un œil sur nos visages. Oui, je pense que nous voyageons à pied et faisons des promenades dans certains camions de gens, s'ils laissent tant d'adolescents rouler à un moment donné. Jusqu'à ce que les gens oublient cet article de journal, Spencer murmura en arrière, regardant derrière eux pour s'assurer qu'ils avaient tout le monde. Ouais, ça semblait leur montant habituel. Il a juste remercié Dieu qu'ils étaient tous d'accord, eh bien, fuyant leur putain de vie. Plus il y pensait, plus il le regrettait, mais tant que Max était avec lui, il était au moins heureux. Il n'oserait pas penser à ce qui s'est passé s'ils essayaient de retourner à leur vie normale. Leurs familles seraient-elles tuées, avec elles? Comment Michael s'occuperait-il d'eux - les effacer complètement, comme rien? Spencer s'est ébranlé, remuant les pensées, avant de se tourner vers le groupe après s'être arrêté plus loin sur la plate-forme. D'accord, on va devoir trouver un endroit où camper pour la nuit. J'espère que vous avez tous emballé des fournitures de lit, il a dit, assez franchement. Ça ne sert à rien d'espérer, n'est-ce pas? Max, d'autre part, a poursuivi le processus de pensée qui semble être réciproque entre eux. La famille. Il n'avait pas vu sa mère depuis des années, et si Michaels traquait son père d'une manière ou d'une autre, il s'en soucierait vraiment. L'aîné Reed n'était pas vraiment agréable. Quant à la famille Spencer, ce n'était pas une affaire de Max, mais il pensait qu'ils méritaient tout le destin que Michaels avait à l'esprit pour eux; le traiter de cynique, mais il n'avait pas de remords pour les parents qui n'acceptaient pas. Il n'a pas exprimé ces pensées, bien sûr. Au lieu de cela, Max vient juste de soutenir Spencer de court message aux autres avec un sourire rassurant de son propre. Contrôle des dommages, si vous voulez. Un coup d'oeil épargné vers les panneaux qui longent la station a dit à Max qu'ils avaient atterri à West Gloucester. Tissage à travers la foule, il a navigué vers le centre d'information et saisi un livret, en voyant une section sur un abri voisin, mais s'est rapidement écumé dessus. Les refuges ont toujours demandé trop de renseignements personnels - ils n'avaient rien à épargner. Cependant, il y avait un terrain de camping un peu plus au nord, et bien qu'il n'était pas idéal de rester à l'extérieur pendant une nuit d'été... c'était mieux que de risquer d'être pris dans un hôtel ou une auberge à proximité. Le logement minimal offrait de très petites cabines, au moins. "Spence, comment ça?" Il a offert, se penchant pour partager la brochure. Spencer a regardé ce que Max lui donnait, hésitant un moment. Après tout, la dernière fois qu'il a reçu quelque chose à lire par Max, c'était quand il a découvert qu'ils avaient toute la ville à leur recherche, aussi. Quoi qu'il en soit, il a pris la brochure en la regardant. C'est comme, parfait, il murmurait, tenant le morceau de papier comme un artefact ancien. En ce qui concerne le groupe, il a mis son meilleur visage de jeu. Il a dû garder leurs espoirs réalistes, mais les empêcher de tomber trop, aussi. D'accord, Max nous a trouvé un endroit où rester. Ce n'est pas exactement un hôtel spa de luxe, mais un camping vaut mieux que rien, non? De plus, il est moins probable qu'ils nous trouveront. Je ne pense pas que Michaels ait des gens autour de cette zone. On peut y arriver d'ici ce soir. Qu'est-ce qu'il a dit?Il s'est interrogé, espérant que personne n'aurait de pensées opposées. Bien que, encore une fois, ils ne pouvaient pas exactement se plaindre - c'était mieux que d'être retournés ou de dormir dans la rue.

DISCORD • MAXIMILLIAN LUCAS REED • • moon • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • SPENCER RYAN BRADSHAW • • sun • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • ADDISON ‘ADDIE’ TAVINGTON • • sprocket • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • JACE THEODORE O’BRIAN • • chip • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • KATIE ‘KAT’ GARDINER • • wallflower • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • EMILY FLORENCE WARING • • bitch •

Lieu: TRAIN → GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS Interagir avec: ‘Boston Renegades', Max et Spencer en particulier Habituellement, quand Max et Spencer (que Emily a constamment surnommé M. Spencer souvent) étaient quelque part ensemble, Emily avait habituellement ses deux cents à mettre à ce sujet, mais aujourd'hui son esprit était trop occupé à se mêler avec elle alors qu'elle se moquait de son lecteur MP3. Bien sûr, elle n'avait pas adapté la stature d'un citoyen respectueux de la loi ou même d'une "bonne" fille dans ce cas, mais elle n'a jamais pensé que les enjeux allaient devenir si élevés. Bien sûr, la prison était quelque chose. Pas le meilleur des endroits, surtout après qu'elle ait frappé avec tous les prisonniers de sexe masculin décent (et même un officier, le laissant menotté à l'une des cellules, son pantalon de l'autre côté de la pièce), dans la prison. C'est alors que ça devient vraiment une nuisance. Tout de même, elle était heureuse pour la cassure. Elle se doutait d'une façon ou d'une autre, mais pas si vite, elle n'a jamais pensé qu'il était venu à cela, à la fois le peuple de la justice et le roi du crime sur sa queue. Bien qu'elle n'ait pas été tout à fait capable de formuler les mots comme M. Spencer (insérer le bout de fedora ici) a pris leur siège, elle leur a donné un regard suggestif qui a dit exactement ce qu'elle avait à chaque fois, "Avez-vous des oiseaux d'amour se sont amusés à s'occuper?, attendant que les deux pour obtenir son message du visage avant de leur donner un regard malicieux à côté d'un snicker avant de revenir jouer autour avec son MP3, tête en train de sauter jusqu'à la musique, un son faible possible d'être entendu par ceux assez proches. Bien sûr, le commentaire non verbal était en bon plaisir, dans la plupart des cas, que deux personnes ont volontairement marché dans la pièce seule, elle dirait qu'ils baguaient ou faisaient quelque chose de semblable, cependant, il semblait que ces 2 étaient en fait à elle, tous les signes l'ont pointé. Pour deux criminels, ils n'étaient pas du tout maîtres de la subtilité. Soit ça, soit Emily avait fait l'amour tant de fois avec tant d'hommes qu'elle pouvait pratiquement sentir qu'ils venaient de l'avoir, soit Emily la laissait se moquer d'elle. Peu de temps après que Max eut attiré l'attention sur le journal entre ses mains. Emily s'en est brièvement remise. Elle a dû admettre, elle a été surprise d'être sur un rapport de personne disparue. Ses yeux ont vite trouvé son nom, aucune image disponible. Des salauds. Ils n'ont probablement pas apprécié sa persistance pour sa figure obscène de mugshots, ou pour enlever le sourire sur son visage (les menottes ne peuvent pas résoudre tout ce que ma chérie). Elle pouvait dire que c'est ses parents qui n'ont pas fait de commentaire, oh bien. C'était mieux que sa mère n'ait pas donné de commentaire sinon ce serait mieux que tu ne reviennes pas dans cette maison Emily Florence ou qu'elle me perde et me sauve le chagrin. Son père était beaucoup trop occupé pour s'occuper comme d'habitude, elle a donné un soupir assis dans son siège et de retour à sa musique. Emily snickered au commentaire Spencer. "Nous sommes renégats, pas seulement dans les yeux de Michaels, mais dans les lois, la dernière chose qu'ils veulent faire est de nous faire paraître bon," elle répond dans un murmure brouillé, "Eh bien, si nous allons faire cette chose de groupe pop, je bags étant celui qui se bat et jette des trucs aux paparazzi!" elle plaisante. Rapidement Emily saute de son siège comme Spencer le fait et le gifle juste au-dessus de son oreille gauche avant de murmurer. Il n'est pas étonnant que vous ayez été pris,, permettant à la voix de griffe déversant à travers les haut-parleurs pour couvrir ses mots et éviter quiconque n'était pas dans un rayon proche de l'entendre. Elle le regarda plus longtemps avant de s'en aller pour que le reste du groupe puisse marcher. Ils n'avaient même pas quitté l'état jusqu'à présent. Emily a soupiré. Elle n'était pas du tout optimiste sur l'endroit où ils sont arrivés, surtout si cet article était partout Boston, il aurait été préférable de rester dans le train jusqu'à ce qu'ils quittent l'État. Qui a mis les copains de Banging en charge? Eh bien, elle pensait, en suivant ça a probablement montré qu'elle était d'accord. Quoi qu'il en soit, la scène de la côte était assez belle. Emily n'avait presque pas sa place avec son vieux short court s'affaissant dans certains endroits et ses cheveux de gingembre ondulés un nid de rat, les parties étant soufflées par la brise douce. L'eau était douce, formant la moindre des vagues. Entre elle, le beau bleu et la rive sablonneuse, il ressemblait à quelque chose qui appartenait à une brochure. Comme Spencer a trouvé le groupe un endroit pour rester Emily a pris la brochure oh-si-précieuse de Maxs la tourner dans sa propre main, le traiter avec beaucoup moins de soin que Max avait mais assez de soin pour qu'il ne s'écroule pas ou déchire. Je n'ai jamais aimé les stations thermales de toute façon, entré par effraction dans une chambre une ou deux fois, plein de snobs. Un terrain de camping semble parfait," elle dit dans une tentative boiteuse de garder les esprits du groupe, et n'importe quel taux elle était d'accord avec le couple de garçons sans faire des commentaires si harcelants ou suggestifs, qu'est-ce qu'elle pourrait dire? Elle s'est sentie gentille à ce moment-là.

Emily Florence Waring You Call Me A Bitch Like It's A Bad Thing– Halestorm • I Don't Care- Fall Out Boy • Bad Girls ~ MIA NAME }} Emily Florence Waring CODENAME }} Bitch. She insists it. AGE }} 19 SPECIALTY }} (She claims to be their) PR and distraction specialists, she the one after the mission dealing with the witnesses, keeping them quiet about their sightings. {{ Extroverted• Rebellious • Flirty • Careless • sharp-tongued }} PERSONALITY }} If you hadn't gathered Emily is definitely not the best of people, nor does she pretend or try to be. She is wild, rebellious and careless. Not for a day has she taken life seriously and doubts she ever will. She does what pleases and entertains her, no matter how reckless it is. Emily has no filter between her mind and her mouth nor between her mind and her actions. She speaks and acts without considering the consequences for herself or anyone else and tends to wear those consequences like a badge. She is a master liar and will tell as many lies as possible to get out of a bad situation or being caught. She will say or do anything to get her will or her way. She's not afraid to use another's confidences against them. Emily is very much an extrovert and often the life of the party. She will push her friends into uncomfortable situations for fun. She's fun-loving and does possess a heart for her friends, however, she’ll never admit it She'll happily take the blame for people she's close too, but would prefer assisting them lie their way out of punishment. Emily is open about who she is, she will be the first to tell you she's a bitch and often proclaims she's whore. She wears her worst traits as her crown and armour. Her ways make her seem heartless to a majority of people. Inside she does possess a soft heart, however, an almost impossible to break shell is in the way caused by her upbringing and past. Inside she’s still broken by the past, something she turned to a rebellious, wild nature to cover the wounds. She’d never admit so, she’s come to a point where she fools herself constantly. On top of her grief she has a form of vengeance toward her parents and past relationships. STRENGTHS }} Doesn't care what people say/think about her. Can talk/negotiate her way out of a lot of things She's gained quite a few tactics for not being caught. WEAKNESSES }} Her close friends. Alcohol. She can't say no to the stuff but becomes tipsy rather easy, she also gets the worst of hangovers She can't handle kids, she hates them in fact HISTORY }} Emily’s mother never liked her. Born an only child of a CEO of a large accounting firm and his unemployed wife, Martha The money Michael earned paid enough for the family of three to live a rather luxurious life and Emily hasn't known a life without such a lifestyle. While most parents cooed over their children Martha groaned. It wasn’t that Martha didn’t like children, she loved them in fact, but seemed to possess some dislike toward Emily for no reason. As her father was out on business trips extremely often Emily was left to almost defend from herself Perhaps a reason for Martha’s displeasure in her daughter was Emily’s knack at not excelling… at anything. She was never a high achiever in school, never excelled on piano when her mum bought her lessons, wasn’t the standout in ballet. The list goes on. As time went on the pair started arguing, it became evident there was problems between them and, as Emily’s father was either away on a work trip or too busy to deal with her Emily was practically left to fend for herself. With little guidance Emily mixed with the wrong crowd, however, she had fun. Soon enough she was known for a bad reputation among people. She was always misbehaving and arrogant. The only notice she took to rules was how to break them. She was often in trouble for graffiting, defacing properties and even minor thefts. As time went on she had learnt the best tactics to not being caught. Emily was 15 when she snuck out to a part, of course it wasn't her first rebellious or misbehaving act. She found to fit in perfectly and it was there she had her first try of alcohol and intimacy to a new degree. Since then the sneaking off to parties has become more common despite her mother trying to run her daughter's life. Unfortunately she couldn't stay hidden forever. Caught in the process of defacing an old and important artifact in her town she was taken to a court hearing where a very small amount of her crimes were brought to light and she was eventually sent to jail. OTHER }}

Lieu: TRAIN → GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS Interagir avec: ‘Boston Renegades' Tu l'avais dans tes filets, Maintenant tu ne l'as que dans ta chemise de nuit, j'ai jeté toutes les nuits coquines pour la gentillesse, a atterri dans une crise très commune» Katie était assise dans une position plutôt inconfortable à l'un des endroits de la fenêtre autour de la petite table à l'étroit. Elle s'assit normalement avec son corps droit, mais son cou était légèrement courbé pour pouvoir pencher la tête contre la fenêtre du train. Sa tête secoua doucement au fur et à mesure que le train passait, de temps en temps, forçant un soupir hors d'elle. Une chanson de singes arctiques a joué dans ses écouteurs de pommes blanches au plus haut volume, faisant écho aussi aux gens autour d'elle comme elle jouait aussi. Parfois, quand ça s'est bien passé, elle a un peu hoche la tête, mais à part ça, tu pensais qu'elle dormait. Ses lunettes de soleil l'ont aidée, protégeant ses yeux de tout le monde pendant qu'elle regardait les environs passer. Elle n'a pas été utilisée pour des voyages en train aussi longs. De retour à la maison, si elle avait été dans un train aussi longtemps qu'elle aurait pu être dans une autre ville, pourtant elle n'était toujours pas en dehors de l'état. Ce pays était trop grand. Elle a à peine remarqué que Max et Spencer revenaient, assis à table. Elle a regardé juste une seconde, les regardant pendant qu'ils s'asseyaient et Emily pendant qu'elle faisait une blague sur où ils venaient d'être. De l'angle de l'œil, elle pouvait voir un autocollant sur le mur du train qui disait "ne pas fumer". C'était la taquiner. Elle était mourante pour une cigarette depuis qu'elle est montée dans le train, et chaque fois qu'elle voyait ce panneau, elle en voulait encore un. Elle a atteint son côté, se sentant autour de sa zone de poche trop instinctivement toucher la boîte de cigarettes qu'elle avait. Leur forme était clairement visible à travers son jean maigre. "Sauvez le saké". Elle a dit sous son souffle, à personne en particulier. Elle avait considéré plusieurs fois dans ce voyage juste debout sur son siège, ouvrant la petite fenêtre et essayant de fumer hors de là. Ça valait presque la peine de se faire attraper. Elle a remarqué que quelqu'un venait de jeter un journal sur la table, et après un moment de réflexion, elle s'est mise à le chercher et l'a saisi avant que quelqu'un d'autre ne le puisse. Elle l'a déplié, et a vu le gros titre. 'Hunt for the 'Boston Renegades' continue les renégades de Boston? Est-ce qu'il y avait un nom maintenant? Elle a regardé aussi le texte ci-dessous, une grande boîte avec juste beaucoup et beaucoup de texte. Elle a laissé sortir encore un soupir, ça allait aussi prendre un peu d'effort. Elle scannait les mots un par un, les piétant lentement au fur et à mesure qu'elle allait. Ce serait tellement plus facile si elle n'était pas stupide. Cela lui a pris un certain temps, mais elle a aussi réussi à obtenir trop sa partie de l'article. "Rien?" Elle murmura, voyant que ses parents n'avaient rien écrit. Pas de demande d'aide. Ne demande pas où elle était. Pas de souci. Je m'en fiche. Elle a mordu sa lèvre doucement alors qu'elle laissait ses yeux s'éloigner du journal. Elle était blessée, elle ne mentait pas. Qui ne serait pas blessé s'ils avaient des parents qui se moquaient de leur disparition depuis des jours, des semaines? Elle a jeté le journal comme elle a décidé de leur donner le bénéfice du doute. Le train s'est arrêté, et tout le monde descendait. Elle a attendu que tout le monde soit parti, et s'est serré le long des sièges jusqu'à ce qu'elle saute du bord, marchant lentement derrière tout le monde à travers les foules jusqu'à ce qu'ils descendent du train. Dès qu'ils l'ont fait, elle est entrée dans ses poches et a attrapé ses cigarettes. "J'ai besoin d'un pédé." Elle a parlé avec un accent anglais fort, un Londres plus commun aussi être précis. En sortant un de son paquet, elle l'a mis dans sa bouche et a serré ses lèvres inversées autour d'elle. Elle ne savait pas si c'était légal ou pas trop de fumée dans une gare, mais elle était dehors. Elle avait attendu trop longtemps. Alors qu'elle écoutait aussi les autres qui parlaient de campings, de spas et de tout le reste, elle s'approcha dans sa poche gauche et sortit son briquet. C'était un simple briquet de 1 $ qu'elle a obtenu du dernier magasin où ils sont entrés avant d'arriver dans le train. Elle l'a relevée aussi à l'extrémité de la cigarette, l'a coupée et a allumé le briquet. Une fois, deux fois. Trois fois chanceux. La flamme a brûlé l'extrémité, et elle a tiré dessus aussi faire brûler. Le briquet est retourné dans sa poche, et ses mains se sont reposées sur ses côtés pendant une seconde, alors qu'elle prenait un long tirage de sa cigarette. Elle est revenue, la prenant entre deux doigts et la respirant à nouveau dans sa gorge. Le sentiment familier de la fumée qui lui griffait à la gorge alors qu'elle la respirait en sentait la libérer aussi, et elle l'a soufflée dans une longue ligne droite, fermant les yeux alors qu'elle souriait aussi elle-même. "Je m'en fiche d'un terrain de camping. C'est une bonne idée, en fait".

KATIE "KAT" GARDINER Catfish and the Bottlemen - Homesick • The Kooks - Naive • Arctic Monkeys - When the sun goes down KATIE }} KAT }} 17 }} ACTING}} {{ Cynical • Addictive • Sensitive • Lonely • Laid back }} PERSONALITY }} Cynical; Katie knows how people work, including herself, and has come too the conclusion that people are in it for themselves. She finds it hard to trust people if she hasn't known them for a while after what has happened with Micheal's and other events in her past. This means though, that the people she does trust she relies on more than she otherwise would if she had more people by her side. Emotional support is something that wasn't readily available too her when she was younger for most of her life, so while sometimes she doesn't know how to take it she does appreciate it. Addictive; Katie is a victim of having an addictive personality. Once she tries something once and enjoys it, she will usually go out of her way too keep that thing in her life. Not even Katie knows if this is just her natural shitty personality, or if its a way too keep her happy and hide what lies deep below, buried below the drugs and cigarettes. Sensitive; Although she would hate too admit it, Katie is sensitive. She cares what people think, much more than you would guess if you had been around her for ten minutes. She hates being judged for who she is, where she's from or how she acts which is why she may seem either more reserved around new people, or try too seem more intimidating. However, the latter rarely works. Lonley; Katie grew up Lonely. Sure, she had friends, but they weren't people she could really get on with or connect with. They were people for her to go out and cause trouble with. Sure, she cared for them, and they cared for her, but they all knew that it wasn't going to last. She grew up lonely, causing trouble and searching for connections to fill the gaps. Maybe this is why she cares so much for the group she is with now, she doesn't want to feel overwhelmed by loneliness again. Laid back; Contrasting all of this, Katie has become rather laid back. She tried too keep the group from internal conflicts and hates too see splinters start too form, but would rather sit back and relax than get involved in the fights and arguments. She doesn't hold much of a sharp posture, and seems too not care less about the risks of most things she does. STRENGTHS }} Actress; Katie is an amazing actress, and coupled with this she uses what natural beauty she has too her advantage, luring in targets and infiltrating small groups and buildings, tricking men with her charm. Small and nimble; Katie isn't huge, standing at 5'4 and only just reaching a healthy weight for a girl of her height. She has good agility, she can climb and sneak around and move in and out of places quite well without being seen thanks too this. Makes infiltration easier, along with shoplifting. Seems innocent; Nobody expects a girl who looks like her too be carrying drugs around for criminals, or too be on the run from them. WEAKNESSES }} Weak; Katie is physically weak. There is no way she could win a close quarters fight. At all. Intelligence; While she definitely isn't the most stupid, she isn't the most smart. She has minor dyslexia, so while she can read its harder and takes longer. She was never any good at maths or English in school either. HISTORY }} Katie grew up in south east London, on a council estate in Plumstead. It was nick-named 'concrete city' in the local area, as it was a mess of tall flat complexes, small sweet shops and gangs. Drugs, alcohol, stabbings and mugging was common where she lived. Her father had recently lost his job, and was looking for another one, and her mother was working two low paying jobs day and night. While they waited too be able too move, they were placed by the government in a temporary flat in concrete city. Temporary for 15 years. Katie was okay in primary school. She didn't excel in school but she wasn't the worst, coming in average for most things. She didn't have many friends, and the journey from school too home was a perilous one. She finished when she was 11, and went too secondary school the summer after. Somehow, she managed too become friends with the 'popular' people, and this is where is all went wrong. She suddenly started going out more. She got older friends. She experimented with different things. On her twelfth birthday one of her older friends introduced her too weed for the first time, and it quickly became a regular thing for her. By her thirteenth birthday, she had managed too get herself an older boyfriend who was 16 at the time. A few months later at 14, she started smoking cigarettes. Parties every weekend. Watching gang fights. Drinking and smoking at every chance she had. Shoplifting. For her fifteenth birthday, the same friends got her coke and she tried it for the first time with them. This was used less frequently compared too everything else, but more than average. She started skipping school and her parents wanted nothing more than too be out of concrete city. Her dad took a job offer in America, and her whole life was taken and moved across the Ocean. After settling down in America, she met the group before they got involved with Micheal's. She made friends. She started getting better. But, while trying to repair her damaged life, she managed too get herself into more trouble than she was in before. OTHER }} She is a smoker. English accent. Bi-sexual. More pictures of her;

TRAIN → GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS INTERACTION AVEC }} SA TECHNOLOGIE Des blips ludiques et des explosions crépitantes sonnaient dans les écouteurs de Jace, alors qu'un petit bateau pirate de 8 bits traversait les vagues, tirant des pixels sur des navires opposés. Ses doigts incroyablement rapides martelaient le tampon numérique d sur l'écran tactile tandis que son pouce droit tirait simultanément rapidement les canons du vaisseau. Un petit jolly roger se faufila au-dessus du bateau dans des abrutis rapides et contre nature alors qu'il s'élançait dans la mer surpeuplée. Tout comme Jace était sur le point d'anéantir le dernier navire, le jeu a glissé, et a dit que le navire adverse l'a annihilé à la place. Jace soupira et lâcha la tablette dans ses genoux. Les singes en poudre avaient encore besoin d'un peu de travail. Le code était patchy au mieux, mais le jeu n'était pas à moitié mauvais pour un gamin de dix-sept ans qui venait de lire quelques livres et l'a ailé. Bien sûr, dans les yeux de Jace, ce serait de la poubelle jusqu'à ce qu'il le juge parfait, et il n'avait pas encore à considérer quelque chose qu'il a créé «parfait». Il a tiré ses yeux bleus de la technologie, espérant voler un bref coup d'œil à Max et à son adorable mop de boucles de châtaigne. Tant pis pour ça, Max n'était nulle part où être vu, et Spencer non plus. Bien sûr... bien sûr qu'ils étaient tous les deux partis. Jace sentit le sang se précipiter vers ses joues, tout aussi embarrassé et irrité par son romantisme désespéré. Il a tiré la capuche de son pull rayé sur sa tête et s'est essuyé dans le siège. Ses joues se sont enflées dans un huff silencieux. Jace a envisagé de tirer les ficelles de son sweat à capuche pour cacher son visage comme Kenny de South Park, mais ce ne serait probablement pas très discret. Travaillant à travers la partie bâclée du code sur son ordinateur portable a passé le temps et a gardé Jace-Sesprit de course occupé jusqu'à ce que Max et Spencer finissent par revenir de leur petit rendez-vous. Jace s'est subconsciemment retrouvé assis un peu plus droit quand ils l'ont fait. Il a même réussi un demi sourire semi-croyable en regardant au-dessus du bord supérieur de son écran d'ordinateur. Max a posé un journal sur la table et Jace a étudié prudemment les gros titres, ses yeux ne s'éclaboussaient qu'au début. C'est la photo de son profil Facebook qui lui a vraiment donné une pause. Il était là, il se fixait à partir des pages en noir et blanc. Il a remarqué à haute voix que son cerveau suractif traitait cette nouvelle information. Jace a ensuite lu les déclarations que ses parents ont laissées et ont porté sur ses lèvres. Il pouvait pratiquement goûter la culpabilité en voyant de leurs paroles, et cela le rendait coupable. Jace regarda loin et scanna les visages des autres comme une distraction. Personne d'autre n'avait l'air de réagir beaucoup plus différemment qu'il ne l'était. Au moins, il ne semblait pas qu'ils l'étaient, mais Jace avait toujours été assez pauvre à lire des indices sociaux. Spencer a souligné le titre ridicule que les médias avaient donné à leur groupe et Jace s'est dit d'accord. Emily s'est cognée avec ses propres pensées. Jace a répondu avec un ringard comme elle a mentionné lancer des trucs à paparazzi. Spence a soulevé le fait qu'ils allaient trouver un endroit pour se reposer pour la nuit et Max a suggéré de camper. Jace's ventre a chuté quand tout le monde semblait être d'accord avec cela, et ce n'était pas juste parce que Max l'a dit. Camping signifierait pas de wifi, et limité à pas d'électricité. Ils seraient complètement hors de la grille et hors de sa zone de confort. Bien sûr, pour le bien de la morale du groupe, Jace n'a rien dit et a continué à sourire. Il pouvait faire ça, ouais, surtout parce qu'il devait le faire. Les criminels ne pouvaient pas vraiment choisir et choisir, et des compromis devaient être faits le long du chemin. Mais qui sait, avec la puissance de cerveau partagée de Sprocket et Chip, peut-être que le duo pourrait monter quelque chose d'utile, ou à tout le moins divertissant, pour quelques nuits. Et donc, ils étaient là: recherchés et en fuite, certains d'entre eux avec leurs visages plâtrés dans la presse. Jace regarda en arrière le journal et se brouilla le nez, remuant ses lèvres en arrière et en arrière dans la pensée. Peut-être devrions-nous changer notre regard, aussi, il chuchotait une suggestion assez forte pour qu'ils l'entendent. Vous savez... teintez nos cheveux, changez notre style, ce genre de choses... Jace revient sur la photo qui a été prise de façon effrayante récemment. C'était beaucoup trop comme regarder dans un miroir. Il n'a pas pu faire de mal... Il s'est emparé de l'accent supplémentaire.

JACE “CHIP” O’BRIAN THE DORK ANTHEM • GAME OVER • WE DON’T HAVE TO DANCE NAME }} Jace Theodore O’Brian. He goes by 'Gaymer' on the internet, after his well-known gamertag and username 'Gaymer1618' CODENAME }} Chip - like a computer chip, not the snack, even though those are good too! AGE }} 17, Birthday: March 5th SPECIALTY }} Hacking {{ QUIET • BRAINY • IMPRESSIONABLE • COMPETITIVE • DELICATE }} PERSONALITY }} The first thing one thinks of when looking at Jace is ‘nerd’. It’s his stature, and the way he carries himself, but he truly does have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge that can be cut down into multiple sects of ‘geekiness.’ Terms like that might be intended as insults from his peers, but he deeply identifies with being intelligent and takes pride in his skills. He enjoys sharing what he knows, confident in his mastery of certain subjects, but prefers to design and execute a plan rather than spew facts that others might deem uninteresting. Unless, of course, it is movie trivia, be prepared to be thouroughly uninterested! Jace is such a generally pleasant person that he appears to drift in and out of a daydream, but truthfully, he is constantly thinking. It may make him seem reclusive or reserved - which he is, to an extent - but he isn’t pensive or detached in the slightest. He’s often conducting full-fledged debates in his mind, but on paper or verbally, Jace is very friendly when fully realising these thoughts; when he’s particularly excited, the conversation can border on incoherence as he tries to explain a daisy-chain of logic or trivia or anything that pops into his mind. Oftentimes, he doesn’t ever reach a point, he will simply jump ship to a new topic altogether, expecting others to completely understand what he meant. They often don't. What really holds him back, though, is his pervasive fear of failure. He is so prone to reassessing his own thoughts and theories, worried he’s missing something critical in his puzzle, that he can stagnate and get lost in a world of self-doubt. This world is nothing public, however. Jace is certainly not an actor by any means, but you’d think he was trained in the art by how secretive he is of his self-criticism. He is set on making others happy (probably to keep them from getting like him), and ensures none of his depressed episodes see the light of day. Jace is a silent sufferer, and goes to all ends to make sure it stays that way. That said, he finds it easy to use warm, sensitive language just to get along with others. He’s not malicious in any way, although given the people he’s surrounded by constantly, you’d think he was a much more volatile individual. He takes great care of other people’s feelings, and expects the favor to be returned - sometimes that means giving him space for a while. Jace needs time to decompress after any overstimulation or lots of social interaction, so he withdraws himself from the public eye plenty. It’s for the best - he usually doesn’t even take care of himself. He’s passionate about what he cares about so much, working so hard to avoid the dark cloud of doubt always over his head, that he quickly gets exhausted and overstressed. This is when he generally turns to some form of distraction or self-medication in order to feel better. {Special thanks to for helping here ❤} STRENGTHS }}.:CYBERPHILE:. Being a competitive gamer and all-around nerd, Jace is very skilled with computers and all things internet. At the age of 14, he successfully built his own rig that he has modified and customized into the absolute BEAST that it is today. In his spare time, he likes to read books about coding and cybersecurity and, as such, he has a firm grasp of how the technological world works, and exactly what he needs to do to hack it. .:AESTHETICIAN:. Jace really enjoys the digital art platform and the ability to technically recreate the beauty of the world. He loves designing websites for people and making graphics for all of his favorite things. Two years ago, he started drawing and painting digitally using a tablet, and has exhibited some considerable talent that he hopes to go to college to hone in on. .:CINEPHILE:. This kid LOVES movies. Directors, actors, cinematography, you name it! Jace proudly boasts that he is the “Master of Useless Movie Trivia”. Go ahead, ask him about it, just make sure you’re comfortable first, because once he gets started he doesn’t let off the gas. This is one of the few things he actually feels comfortable talking to strangers and acquaintances about. WEAKNESSES }}.:WIMP:. The boy is an absolute twig and completely unathletic in every way. He has never participated in any organized sport and was, very shamefully, the gym class zero in school. Seriously, if it came to a fight, a person could probably own him just by looking at him too strongly. .:BROKEN:. Jace suffers from undiagnosed depression that stems from the bullying he received growing up. Coming out to his parents, and their reaction to it, didn’t make things any better. Because he has never talked about it or actually seen a therapist, he self-medicates in whatever way he can find to feel better for the moment. It hardly ever works and is mostly harmful in some way or another. .:FOLLOWER:. If Jace decides that a person is safe enough to talk to, he can become a bit much. His incessant chattering can border on annoying and has often gotten him shunned from friend groups in the past. If he sees someone as a role model in any way, he is prone to changing parts of himself in order to better fit in with and be accepted by that person. HISTORY }} Jace comes from an upper middle class Irish-American family. Growing up, the boy wanted for nothing and had a lovely childhood, despite feeling like he was a little bit different from his friends and classmates. Okay, so he was a lot a bit different from them, but still, there was a time when he was quite happy. He kept excellent grades and a tiny group of close friends throughout elementary school. At the age of 13, Jace finally came out as gay to his parents. Being the ‘religious’ Catholics that they were, his parents were less than loving and supportive. Joseph and Eleanor didn’t go as far as to kick him out of the house or anything, but they still weren’t accepting. His parents constantly insisted that this was 'just a phase' that he would grow out of. There was that, and the affectionate reminders that being homosexual was a sin and he was destined to burn in hell if he 'chose' that lifestyle. When Jace first started coming to terms with the fact that was, in fact, gay, and then subsequently faced the rejection of coming out to the people he loved most, his depression worsened. He is no stranger to self-harm and, when he was 15, he even tried to end his own life by taking a cocktail of pills that he found in the medicine cabinet. Jace woke up a few hours later vomiting uncontrollably, and it scared him enough to not try that again. His parents assumed he had just been out drinking with friends and actually punished him for it. To this day, they still don’t know the truth. Because of this, he distanced himself from them, and from other people that were close to him. He never officially dated a guy for fear of rejection, and instead focused on his technology, his artwork, on learning and growing as a person. Jace dreamed of going to college after high school to study animation at an art institute. Because of the lack of familial support, he turned to hacking as a means to earn money and save up for putting himself through school. That’s how the whole criminal enterprise thing started for him. His means to escaping reality through learning about the computer world had turned into a small time hacking business, which then snowballed into involvement with Michaels' organization. Jace never thought he would be a criminal, but something about it got addicting… it was the pleasing people, mostly, and trying to impress his new crushesfriends with his skill set and false bravado. He had turned into someone unrecognizable in this short time with them. And now, he was running from it. Wasn’t that fitting, though? Jace has always been running. OTHER }} I don’t understand the twenty one pilots meme thing because I’m old but I promise I read all of your rules. <3

Lieu: TRAIN → GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS Interagir avec: FAMILLE? De son coin de l'œil, celui qui avait trois petites étoiles de cristal bleu sur le côté, Addie a vu deux des trois garçons disparaître dans une petite pièce. Ils ont dû perdre quelque chose ou étaient à la recherche de quelque chose à manger - il y avait toujours des craquelins ou des croûtons dans l'armoire du garde-manger à la maison. Parfois, quand elle a mangé les petits craquelins hexagonaux, sa mère s'est énervée quand c'est venu le temps de la charcuterie de palourdes. Mais était-ce vraiment la faute d'Addie que ces petits snackeroos salés étaient si parfaitement munchables. Quelle que soit la raison pour laquelle les deux avaient décidé de partir ensemble, cela signifiait une chose simple: la supervision était indisposée! Quand ils sont arrivés dans le train, c'était l'un de ces deux - Maximus? Spangler? - l'un d'eux avait dit aux autres réunis de rester dans les limites générales de la voiture dans laquelle ils se trouvaient. Les autres semblaient le comprendre assez bien, avec l'autre garçon qui blootait et blooping actuellement ("Est-ce un robot?" était la première pensée d'Addie sur lui et son blooping bleeping appareil) et les autres filles avaient des choses dans leurs oreilles. ("Mais alors comment peuvent-ils entendre?") Mais c'est à Addie que l'explication a été donnée plus d'une fois. Cela aurait été un peu démoralisant et grossier - ils la traitaient comme un enfant qui ne comprenait pas les concepts de base tels que « rester et ne pas se déplacer » - à l'exception du simple fait qu'avec ses soi-disant experts de supervision tous étant indisposés avec leurs propres activités...Addie n'allait pas s'en tenir à la voiture dans laquelle elle était. Dès que les deux garçons aux cheveux foncés ont disparu, Addie s'est effondrée sur le sol, glissant sur son siège de train comme si elle avait été un cône de crème glacée fondante. Rester bas au sol, presque mettre ses mains sur le sol et marcher à quatre pattes, Addie s'est précipitée à la porte des autres voitures et a glissé à travers. La plupart des passagers ont à peine remarqué l'étrange fille avec les étoiles bleues cristallines et les cheveux blonds de platine brillants qui étaient frisottis et avaient des taches de peinture rouge sur eux (« Vous devez peindre vos cheveux qu'on appelle un ces gars-là, duh » avait été son raisonnement avant que les autres l'obligent à la laver. Avec un tuyau.) ce qui était idéal. Juste un autre train à Boston. Quiconque a pris connaissance d'elle a probablement juste supposé qu'elle était actuellement sous l'ecstasy ou un autre médicament de partie avec combien large oeil et sourire elle était en marchant dans l'allée du centre. Une gonzesse s'est arrachée des lèvres et elle a pratiquement sauté dans le siège vide en face d'un petit garçon assis tout seul. Le gamin n'aurait pas pu avoir plus de cinq ans, peut-être six ans, mais il était seul et froncé, regardant par la fenêtre. Addie s'assit en face de lui et le regarda, les yeux larges et souriants, jusqu'à ce qu'il remarque sa présence. Ça a pris cinq minutes. "Salut!" Addie parlait, sa voix n'était pas aussi haute que l'ont supposé les passants; c'était plutôt une voix comme 'ce groupe de geeks de ce film' comme l'a dit l'un de ses frères. -- Bonjour... répondit le gamin, clairement nerveux devant cet étrange étranger. "Où est ta mèremmmmmm?" Pas exactement la meilleure question à poser à un mineur non accompagné, mais Addie n'a rien vu de mal avec elle. C'était une question inoffensive! Sans danger! "Là-bas..." le garçon a pointé devant, derrière Addie. Les parents du petit enfant, ou juste sa mère, étaient assis à deux places. La parentalité idéale, quel est le pire qui puisse arriver à un enfant dans un train. À l'heure actuelle, la mère à tête rouge était occupée à travailler sur son ordinateur portable - beaucoup plus important que de garder un œil vigilant comme un adulte. "Quel est ton nom?" Addie avait cette mauvaise habitude de poser des questions en étirant vraiment la syllabe finale dans le mot final. Juste un autre dans une longue liste de fonctionnalités qui est venu standard avec le système d'exploitation d'Addie. "Brian." L'enfant était clairement ennuyé, bien que plus à son isolement que la blonde potentiellement ennuyeuse qui l'interrogeait. "Eh bien mon nom est Addie," Heureusement que les autres n'étaient pas à l'oreille ou sinon ils auraient pu avoir un peu d'ajustement pour ça, "Tu veux jouer à un jeu, Briannnnnnn?" Addie hurlait la tête rapidement, avec empressement, l'empoignant de répondre par l'affirmative. "Non..." La réponse de Brian a fait froncer Addie, se bousculant les lèvres comme un enfant a refusé un bar de bonbons à la ligne de caisse du supermarché. "Mais ce sera amusant! Si tu gagnes, je te donnerai des bonbons!" Addie avait toujours des bonbons à la main, bien que ce n'était pas le type de bonbons que tout le monde devrait manger car il était soit resté ou fondu ou autrement sorti du sol et re-emballé. Cinq secondes, c'est ça? "Quel genre de jeu?" La promesse de bonbons potentiels tournait Brian vers l'idée. Comme les bonbons à la plupart des enfants. "Le jeu est appelé..." Addie a mis ses deux mains devant son visage, "MAKEAFUNNYFACEANDMAKEYOULAUGH!" Alors qu'elle parlait fort, rapidement, elle lâcha les mains et ouvrit les lèvres sur le côté, se baissant la langue dans un effort pour faire un visage aléatoire, j'espère drôle. Tout ce qu'il a pu faire, c'était rire Brian, même si ça aurait pu être une toux. Addie a alors dû prendre un moment pour expliquer les règles assez simples du jeu entièrement composé. Il a fallu un peu de persuasion, à savoir montrer qu'elle avait, en fait, des bonbons dans la petite poche sur sa ceinture, mais Brian jouait avec l'espoir d'un chewing-gum dans son futur. Le jeu a continué, avec Brian obtenir des bonbons chaque fois qu'il a fait rire Addie - ce qui était à chaque fois jusqu'à ce que l'AP a annoncé l'arrêt suivant était Glauchester et la mère de Brian est venu le fouetter loin, l'exhortant (et Addie) pour parler à des étrangers. Avant que Brian et sa mère ne partent pour attendre l'ouverture de la sortie, Addie a cependant demandé à emprunter le téléphone de la mère - une urgence, urgente à cela. Après avoir reçu le téléphone - après s'être pratiquement mis à genoux et mendier comme un paysan, Addie s'est faufilé à la caméra et, s'emparant de Brian par l'épaule, l'a serré pour prendre un selfie rapide et soudain. "C'était votre urgence?" la mère lui demanda de lui arracher le téléphone avec une expression dégoûtante sur les lèvres. "Ouais, une urgence d'ami, duh." Addie n'a pas vu le problème en utilisant le téléphone de quelqu'un d'autre pour prendre un selfie - le concept de ne pas être sauvé à son propre appareil ne semblait pas traverser son esprit. Tous les téléphones étaient connectés, c'est comme ça que les appels fonctionnaient, Duh. Quand le train s'est arrêté, Addie s'est évanouie derrière Brian et sa mère, et la blonde a même suivi le duo comme si elle faisait partie de la famille de Brian tout d'un coup. "Alors, où allons-nous"? Addie semblait vraiment penser qu'elle allait avec Brian, clignotant dans la confusion quand la mère menaçait d'appeler la police tout d'un coup, scamper loin de la fille qui ne pouvait que clignoter et regarder en silence. "Bye Brian, enjoigne la candille!" Addie se tenait sur le trottoir, agitant à la famille qu'elle n'avait pas comme si elle était une relative les agitant d'adieu après une visite. De retour dans le train - tout comme il a roulé - Addie a dû faire une double prise pour s'assurer que les cinq autres avec qui elle avait embarqué étaient là - et ils étaient, blottis autour d'une sorte de brochure ou quelque chose. Ils allaient la laisser derrière eux! Comme c'est impoli! C'est comme s'ils n'avaient même pas remarqué qu'elle était partie, et qu'elle allait le traiter comme ça, en se dirigeant vers le groupe comme un ninja sournois. "Où allons-nous maintenant? "BOOOOOO"! Addie a annoncé son arrivée en sautant vers le groupe, dans une tentative à la fois pour les surprendre et les effrayer, bafouant comme elle l'a fait, comme on le fait.

SPENCER “SUN” BRADSHAW LET’S KILL TONIGHT • READY TO GO • LYING • BONUS THEME — BUT IT’S BETTER IF YOU DONAME }} Spencer Ryan Bradshaw CODENAME }} ‘SUN’ AGE }} 16 SPECIALTY }} Infiltration— Spencer’s skill is similar to Max’s, but utilised in a different way. The intention of Spencer’s specialty is to enter the premises and survey the situation - plot out faster routes for the group, detect movement from security or, hell, even criminals, etc.{{ OUTSPOKEN • FIERCE • SARCASTIC • SMUG • COCKY }} PERSONALITY }} As his history might suggest, Spencer is a born entertainer. He loves the spotlight, but all the world’s a stage. He speaks with a unique and cultured wit, which contradicts how sheltered he was in a religious home and is, undeniably, the best part of most social outings. He is hedonistic and has an eye for attractive things, which is likely how he maintains his own appearance and keeps others interested. He is so focused on immediate pleasures, however, that he often neglects whatever duties are necessary to make these luxuries possible. Spencer relies far more on luck or opportunity (or those around him) to get him through life rather than using any complex problem-solving. Even though it’s not immediately obvious, Spencer is quite aware that not everything is always about him. He is observant and sensitive to others’ emotions, but that doesn’t necessarily means he cares enough about them to help a majority of the time. In fact, Spencer is fairly jaded, and will usually only offer his help to those he is close to or knows well. He is definitely not one to rely on for emotional support or practical advice unless you’re absolutely sure how much of an asset you are in his life. In any case, he is more likely to avoid a conflict than address it head-on. He enjoys a little bit of drama and passion, but when he’s the center of criticism, he doesn’t take it very well at all. He doesn’t seem especially ‘ruthless’ upon first impressions, but Spencer definitely has the charisma and confidence down to be a leader (truthfully, he’s considered one among his group of friends, but he’d never adopt an official label). He easily overwhelms those who are more timid and sensitive, and his determined relentlessness could easily repel those who aren’t used to his domineering nature. A true powerhouse, Spencer cultivates an image of being larger than life; but, hell, all of this gets to his head sometimes. He’s arrogant, with seemingly unmoving convictions and an intolerance towards ‘outsiders,’ which typically disgusts those who get close enough to recognise exactly how dominant he can be. With all his headstrongness and self-confidence, Spencer easily steps over unwritten boundaries. He’s extremely sarcastic, and with his wit, it’s no surprise when he spits out some sharp insult at someone he deems too incompetent for the team. When he isn’t careful enough, he gets too caught up in the moment, takes things too far, and runs roughshod over more sensitive people. He definitely keeps things interesting and competitive. Other people’s feelings and emotions come second to his own (and his own feelings come second to those of people closest to him), and his blunt honesty mixed with that definitely leaves him seeming rather insensitive. Max has such an effect on his personality that Spencer practically has an entirely separate persona from his ‘normal’ state. He retains all the exuberance, but loses any potential bite to refrain from hurting Max - that is, unless it’s necessary to uphold a back-and-forth of good-natured quipping. They’ve learned each other’s boundaries well, and know how to interact so well you’d think they were friends from birth. Spencer upholds a certain image, however, in which he appears unaffected by petty romance, so these moments are reserved for only ‘the sun and the moon’. STRENGTHS }} Spencer has sex appeal that is very difficult to ignore. He knows how to use it masterfully, and can often bend people to his will using this strength alone. In his (unfortunate) world, age has never seemed to be a problem to those who find him attractive. Compelling and attractive, Spencer never has a problem getting along with anyone he meets. He is extremely charismatic and, with all his observational skill, picks up on how people would like him to act. Wisely so, he does just that. Spencer rarely acts on his own accord when trying to earn a new ally. Spencer’s fine motor skills are amazing. He’s no magician and doesn’t casually whip out cards to show off his talent, but he has mastered sleight of hand. He is incredibly cunning, although most wouldn’t believe it until they learned of his dexterity. Incredibly deceptive, Spencer can lie about anything he’d like to, given the right materials. His habit goes beyond pathological, quite honestly; he does it for sport at this point. WEAKNESSES }} While he is fine enough at using it for advantage, Spencer’s gravitation towards sex is his ultimate downfall some of the time. Spencer can be too proud sometimes. Whether it sets another person off or simply threatens them, his ego could easily get him into trouble at some point. It’s happened before, and it’s only a matter of time before Spencer gets into serious trouble. Surprise, surprise: Spencer isn’t a perfect person. He’s a bit prejudiced, actually. Although he’s not full-on misogynist, Spencer is somewhat sexist, and underestimates women as a gender both physically and mentally. If someone so much as threatened Max, Spencer’s world would crumble. All important duties, all his other predicaments, would be set aside to help his ‘moon’. That said, Spencer could easily be subject to blackmail.HISTORY }} Well, you don’t get involved with Richard Michaels by being all sunshine and flowers. Spencer is a shining example of that fact. Sure, he was raised by a mormon family, but like that stopped him. After a few hiccups in school (read: breakdowns) due to the pressure being put on him to act like a fucking angel, Spencer decided enough was enough for his mormon lifestyle. He started off slow; showing up to church less often, avoiding his family as best he could and, hell, sneaking off in the middle of the night. It was innocent at first - he went to the local bar to play music and stare at the ladies (which soon turned into staring at the boys), having a pretty good time. That was, until, he met Maximillian Lucas Reed V. Ridiculous name. Anyway, this boy sent Spencer hurtling into the clouds. All it took was a good while in the back room of a gay bar and before he knew it, Spencer had just taken up a bouncer job at the local strip club (slash drug trading hotspot for criminal extraordinaire Richard Michaels). Of course, this wasn't when Spencer got involved with Michaels, oh, no, that time would come very soon. In fact, it was a week later. Spencer was in the middle of a little ‘show’ he’d put on for Max in the back room (which, might he add, is still one of their best moments to this date), having hired some random guy to take up the slack for the night, when the police came banging on the door. Three minutes, two arrests and one awkward moment later, the dynamic duo found themselves in a police department with other teenagers. That was when Richard Michaels came in. One teenager, Sinéad, had the bright idea of running from the department. Despite the obvious doubt that arose, her bright idea actually worked. It was only then that they realised they were screwed. So, the group went to the only person they knew of that could help them - the King of the Criminal Underworld. Luckily for them, they were all followers of the man (which had been the police’s original reason for arresting them before they found out about their less-than-legal activities). So, they were taken under Michaels’ wing - given jobs in the criminal network, provided a safe enough place to live without fear of authorities, gave them food and water; all the good stuff. Some of them found joy in the various substances they smuggled, others found different ways of entertaining themselves on the side. But, no matter what they did, nothing could’ve prepared them for what happened next - Spencer included. Then again, when do you ever expect that one day you’ll be violently awoken and told to flee your place of refuge; to go back into the world you’d managed to escape? At least, Spencer certainly didn’t. OTHER }} BELIEVE with jishwa

MAXIMILLIEN LOCATION }} HEST GLOUCESTER TRAIN STATION » EN ROUTE AU CAMPGROS DE LA RIVIÈRE LIMITE LES RENEGADES DE BOSTON Emily pourrait même être plus arrogante que Spencer parfois. Annoyé, Max a rendu son regard malicieux avec un œil manifestement aggravé. Ses commentaires au sujet d'un groupe pop lui ont apporté une image très claire : Emily pourrait être une batteuse avec toute son énergie, ou, pour une meilleure mobilité, la guitariste qui s'est brouillée sur scène en faisant le tour de la foule et en rendant le travail des gardes du corps encore plus difficile lorsqu'elle a sauté dans la foule. Non pas qu'il envisageait de devenir un véritable groupe musical, mais c'était juste amusant de penser que la plupart des enfants ici étaient probablement faits pour les projecteurs. C'est dommage qu'ils se soient écartés de toute opportunité en faveur d'une vie de crime. Spencer, particulièrement, pourrait chanter. Il pouvait faire n'importe quoi sur le plan musical. Bref. Ça ne sert à rien de recevoir de telles pensées inutiles. Ses sourcils se sont levés sur sa mini-agression de Spencer, mais il n'a pas essayé de médiation. Les jabs entre ces deux-là ne se sont jamais transformés en attaques personnelles, Dieu merci - ne pouvaient pas avoir les deux plus fébriles à la nuque l'un de l'autre. Quand ils étaient hors du train, Kat était prompt à récupérer une cigarette (Max a fait une note mentale pour l'informer de lingo américain qui différait beaucoup de son argot de Londres), et il ne lui en voulait pas. Kat n'avait jamais l'air d'avoir une famille merdique ou une vie de famille torrentielle, mais le fait qu'il n'y ait pas de commentaire dans le journal de ces gens... ça pourrait être insultant pour n'importe qui, surtout si leur relation avec leurs parents était bonne. Il a respiré dans la fumée, tirant le groupe plus serré autour d'elle de peur qu'ils ne soient hurlés par un conservateur opposé au tabagisme adolescent. Se sentant pratiquement béni par l'évitement d'Emily de faire quelques commentaires rugueux sur leur choix de séjour, Max vient de lui faire signe. Pas étonnant qu'elle soit entrée dans un trou d'enfer de 1%. Plus surprenant que cela était Jace en fait parlant, en quelques mots de plus qu'un - ce qui était habituellement son record à moins que vous l'ayez mis sur un sujet particulièrement inintéressant. Max l'a tourné à moitié vers lui, suivant son regard vers le journal en main. La suggestion était bonne, vraiment, mais il ne pouvait pas aider l'image mentale amusante qui a surgi. Jace aux cheveux javel-blonde, Emily une brune au lieu de sa signature rouge? Il a donné à Jace un drôle de regard, essayant de fermer sa propre imagination, et a sonné lentement dans une tentative de maintenir le calme. "C'est en fait un bon plan, si vous êtes tous un jeu", a-t-il accepté, en gardant sa voix basse. "Je suis sûr qu'il y aura un dépanneur le long -" "Où allons-nous maintenant? "BOOOOOO"! Mon Dieu. Et Em pensait que Spencer était mauvais à la subtilité. Pour être juste, Addie était plutôt calme en s'approchant d'eux, et donc Max n'avait aucune idée qu'elle s'approchait - ou même qu'elle n'était pas là tout le temps. Il trébucha un peu, grimpant une main sur son visage comme s'il essuyait toute son irritation. En réponse à sa très haute question, il a fait un geste vague vers la brochure encore dans la main d'Emily. "Juste penser à rester dans un terrain de camping pendant un moment, Sprock, ça te va?" Ce n'était pas une vraie question, à en juger par son ton condescendant. Il n'a pas demandé où elle était, vu la myriade de mondes qu'Addie aurait pu facilement se perdre. Il était juste content que sa photo n'ait pas été dans le journal - alors ils seraient en danger réel de reconnaissance. En parlant de... il a ramené le journal, en veillant à le garder invisible aux yeux des étrangers. Il s'est déplacé vers l'extrémité de la gare, manœuvrant autour du bâtiment court et vers les panneaux de navigation les plus proches. Ils étaient sur la bonne voie vers le nord, jusqu'à présent - l'information sur la brochure leur a dit que c'était cinq minutes en voiture, donc sûrement il ne pouvait pas être beaucoup plus de quinze à pied. Le journal avait une image assez récente par son apparence, mais encore une où il n'avait pas l'air trop chaud. "Est-ce que j'étais ivre?" il s'interrogea à haute voix, agitant sa tête incrédulement. L'absence de commentaires de sa famille n'était pas aussi surprenante. Son père n'était pas si facile à communiquer, et ils ne pouvaient probablement pas retrouver sa mère. Quant à Spencer, il avait une bonne image et une déclaration. C'est un chanceux enfoiré. Jace, cependant, avait l'air tout à fait ridicule avec sa vignette d'une photo. "Qu'est-ce que c'est, Chip? "Ma photo de l'espace?" Au moins, il n'a pas fait de blague sur Grindr. Même si Katie avait une photo en haut, il ne serait pas trop préoccupé; elle pourrait facilement changer son look et se fondre dans plus que n'importe lequel d'entre eux, malgré le fait qu'elle avait des traits de visage très distincts. Quant à Emily... c'était un sacré choc. Elle doit avoir cinquante mugshots flottant autour, ou alors Max a supposé; peut-être qu'ils étaient juste trop inappropriés pour un journal de famille. Addie, il n'était pas si sûr. Elle l'avait probablement prise avant, mais cette fille était un énorme point d'interrogation. En tout cas, toutes leurs descriptions étaient beaucoup trop vagues pour les clouer entièrement. Il n'y avait même pas de section « dernière fois que l'on a vu porter », les amateurs. Plus encore que les médias sociaux ou les étrangers en général, ils s'inquiétaient de Michaels. L'esprit de Max a traversé un roladex de son peuple, se demandant qui ils pourraient rencontrer, à qui ils devraient se méfier, et atterri sur un en particulier. "Spence, Michaels ne fait pas le sale boulot. Il doit avoir le gamin aux yeux bleus après nous, n'est-ce pas?" Hunter-quelque chose. Max ne s'en souciait pas assez. Il s'est davantage tourné vers le reste du groupe. « Lorsque nous y arrivons, nous devons penser à un plan d'action pour si nous nous faisons attraper. » Il a rétréci les yeux cyniquement. "Mettre l'accent sur si."

DISCORD • MAXIMILLIAN LUCAS REED • • moon • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • SPENCER RYAN BRADSHAW • • sun • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • ADDISON ‘ADDIE’ TAVINGTON • • sprocket • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • JACE THEODORE O’BRIAN • • chip • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • KATIE ‘KAT’ GARDINER • • wallflower • ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ • EMILY FLORENCE WARING • • bitch •

Lieu: GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS Interagir avec: ‘Boston Renegades', Jace parlait un peu surprenant, il parlait vraiment en anglais et habituellement dans la langue Emily, qui avait décidé à ce moment-là qu'elle était la maîtresse des surnoms, surnommée « Geekish ». Quoi qu'il en soit, elle appréciait l'accord, ce qui le rendait évident par le sourire sur son visage. La prochaine fois que Jace ouvrit la bouche, Emily n'était pas si impressionnée. Sa main a filé à ses serrures de gingembre, quelle autre couleur représenterait son attitude ardente mais rouge? Et c'était naturel aussi, bien, malgré la stries qu'elle a parfois teintes dans la moitié inférieure de ses cheveux. Quoi qu'il en soit, le gingembre était naturel et elle l'aimait bien. "Non," dit-elle simplement. Certes, c'était un bon plan mais, que ce soit au nom de la vanité ou quelque chose d'autre qu'Emily ne savait pas, mais elle savait qu'elle ne s'y intéressait pas, du moins pas facilement. Avant qu'Emily ne puisse aller sur Addie applaudit de nulle part, faisant sauter Emily. Elle s'écrie en état de choc en se tournant vers Sprocket. Si elle avait assez de mugshot flottant autour de la fille sera la raison pour laquelle ils ont été pris.Elle a regardé la fille dur et bien avant Max en lui racontant le camp. Emily a regardé dans son équipe de ragtags. Au fil de leur temps ensemble, ils étaient venus pour être comme sa famille. Elle les aimait tous comme des frères et sœurs, ou comme elle l'imaginait, elle n'avait jamais eu de frères et sœurs pour qu'elle ne puisse pas comparer pour être sûre. Non pas qu'elle ait jamais admis cela bien sûr, pas sans une remarque snide au moins. D'abord ses yeux reposaient sur M. Spencer alias 'The Banging Buddies'. D'abord son eys a frappé Max qui pouvait presque être aussi snarky qu'Emily parfois, notez le presque (par cette étape Emily avait décidé qu'elle était aussi reine de snark). C'était décevant qu'il lui ait rarement donné du sang-froid, ils auraient les meilleurs combats. Quoi qu'il en soit, il était marrant de se moquer de lui. Presque autant que Spencer, son pote qui baise. Maintenant, il était vraiment sympa de s'amuser avec. Il est devenu si défensif si facilement, c'était génial. Ses retours étaient amusants et terribles. Il semblait que la plupart des gens n'avaient pas l'air de le ridiculiser si facilement alors pourquoi l'a-t-elle fait? Quoi qu'il en soit, être cette personne était amusant pour elle. Ensuite, elle s'est tournée vers le gars de Geek, Jace. Gay aussi, Michaels n'a engagé que des gays? De toute façon Emily ne pensait pas qu'elle coucherait avec ces gars de toute façon. Jace semblait parler une langue différente beaucoup de temps, cette langue étant geek, Emily serait la première à lui dire de parler anglais. Ce n'était, bien sûr, que lorsqu'il a parlé, ce qui était loin d'être aussi souvent qu'elle. Kat était la suivante, probablement celle à qui Em a montré le plus d'amour, pour ne pas dire que Kat a évité son snark, comme Ems va laisser ça arriver, mais elle a certainement reçu moins. Le Brit a eu le moins de nerfs. La dernière était Addie, si le groupe était attrapé Emily pari Addie serait la raison dans ses manières excentriques Em trouvé odieux. Le truc, c'est qu'Emily déteste les enfants et qu'elle a trouvé les manières de presque-femme, eh bien, enfantine. Comment elle était si intelligente à d'autres égards Emily ne savait pas, elle était presque en attente d'Addie à un jour éclaté de rire et admettre qu'elle avait joué avec le groupe tout le temps, mais qui devait savoir? Elle espérait juste que les photos de la fille n'étaient pas abondantes. Ce n'est qu'après avoir entendu Max Mutterings qu'elle s'est souvenue de Hunter. Elle a toujours eu de mauvaises vibrations de la part de ce type, il était sournois. À un moment, il a essayé d'obtenir le plus d'informations possible de Bitch, il n'est pas allé loin mais, que ce soit lui ou paranoïa, Emily jure que ses affaires étaient hors de sa place plus tard ce jour-là. Elle a frotté ses paumes transpirantes sur son petit short avant d'ajouter, "Hopefully nous n'avons pas gagné en premier lieu, mais avec vous beaucoup je doute que "sera facile," Elle dit tout simplement en voyant entre, particulièrement, Rocket et Spencer. Le groupe est le plus fort et le moins subtil. Connaissez-vous la définition du calme et de la subtilité?

Emily Florence Waring You Call Me A Bitch Like It's A Bad Thing– Halestorm • I Don't Care- Fall Out Boy • Bad Girls ~ MIA NAME }} Emily Florence Waring CODENAME }} Bitch. She insists it. AGE }} 19 SPECIALTY }} (She claims to be their) PR and distraction specialists, she the one after the mission dealing with the witnesses, keeping them quiet about their sightings. {{ Extroverted• Rebellious • Flirty • Careless • sharp-tongued }} PERSONALITY }} If you hadn't gathered Emily is definitely not the best of people, nor does she pretend or try to be. She is wild, rebellious and careless. Not for a day has she taken life seriously and doubts she ever will. She does what pleases and entertains her, no matter how reckless it is. Emily has no filter between her mind and her mouth nor between her mind and her actions. She speaks and acts without considering the consequences for herself or anyone else and tends to wear those consequences like a badge. She is a master liar and will tell as many lies as possible to get out of a bad situation or being caught. She will say or do anything to get her will or her way. She's not afraid to use another's confidences against them. Emily is very much an extrovert and often the life of the party. She will push her friends into uncomfortable situations for fun. She's fun-loving and does possess a heart for her friends, however, she’ll never admit it She'll happily take the blame for people she's close too, but would prefer assisting them lie their way out of punishment. Emily is open about who she is, she will be the first to tell you she's a bitch and often proclaims she's whore. She wears her worst traits as her crown and armour. Her ways make her seem heartless to a majority of people. Inside she does possess a soft heart, however, an almost impossible to break shell is in the way caused by her upbringing and past. Inside she’s still broken by the past, something she turned to a rebellious, wild nature to cover the wounds. She’d never admit so, she’s come to a point where she fools herself constantly. On top of her grief she has a form of vengeance toward her parents and past relationships. STRENGTHS }} Doesn't care what people say/think about her. Can talk/negotiate her way out of a lot of things She's gained quite a few tactics for not being caught. WEAKNESSES }} Her close friends. Alcohol. She can't say no to the stuff but becomes tipsy rather easy, she also gets the worst of hangovers She can't handle kids, she hates them in fact HISTORY }} Emily’s mother never liked her. Born an only child of a CEO of a large accounting firm and his unemployed wife, Martha The money Michael earned paid enough for the family of three to live a rather luxurious life and Emily hasn't known a life without such a lifestyle. While most parents cooed over their children Martha groaned. It wasn’t that Martha didn’t like children, she loved them in fact, but seemed to possess some dislike toward Emily for no reason. As her father was out on business trips extremely often Emily was left to almost defend from herself Perhaps a reason for Martha’s displeasure in her daughter was Emily’s knack at not excelling… at anything. She was never a high achiever in school, never excelled on piano when her mum bought her lessons, wasn’t the standout in ballet. The list goes on. As time went on the pair started arguing, it became evident there was problems between them and, as Emily’s father was either away on a work trip or too busy to deal with her Emily was practically left to fend for herself. With little guidance Emily mixed with the wrong crowd, however, she had fun. Soon enough she was known for a bad reputation among people. She was always misbehaving and arrogant. The only notice she took to rules was how to break them. She was often in trouble for graffiting, defacing properties and even minor thefts. As time went on she had learnt the best tactics to not being caught. Emily was 15 when she snuck out to a part, of course it wasn't her first rebellious or misbehaving act. She found to fit in perfectly and it was there she had her first try of alcohol and intimacy to a new degree. Since then the sneaking off to parties has become more common despite her mother trying to run her daughter's life. Unfortunately she couldn't stay hidden forever. Caught in the process of defacing an old and important artifact in her town she was taken to a court hearing where a very small amount of her crimes were brought to light and she was eventually sent to jail. OTHER }}

Lieu: GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS Elle s'interpose avec : "Mostly Herself OKay"? L'important, c'était que les gens avaient peur. Eh bien, deux personnes qu'elle pouvait dire. Moonman a essayé de tout jouer cool comme, c'est ce qu'il a fait bien sûr, mais Addie savait dans son cœur qu'il avait été absolument pétrifié. C'était un grand succès en ce qui la concerne; si quelqu'un pouvait faire le flipper Moonman...chances sont que ce serait Sunny Boy mais Addie était heureuse de savoir qu'elle pouvait au moins obtenir une réponse du gars. Et il ne lui a pas crié dessus à cause de ça, ce qui n'a servi qu'à donner à Addie plus de raisons d'essayer de lui faire peur. C'était comme un petit jeu amusant seulement Addie était le seul à jouer. La meilleure chose à ce sujet? Elle a toujours gagné. Un terrain de camping? Addie ne connaissait pas le terrain de camping et voulait vraiment demander la distinction. Peut-être que le terrain de camping était plus doux ou avait moins d'herbe ou peut-être que le terrain de camping avait comme des oreillers naturels faits de terre douce. Les possibilités couraient à travers son esprit, et elle courait là-bas avec eux - mentalement - faire de la gymnastique alors qu'elle essayait d'imaginer le terrain de camping au sens littéral du mot. Addie serait resté concentré sur les terrains de camping s'il ne s'agissait pas d'une question plus forte tirée des lèvres d'Em-Em. Bien sûr, Em-Em avait un surnom différent, mais Addie a refusé de le dire. C'était un mot de serment et les mots de serment étaient mauvais, plus Em-Em n'était pas un de ceux-là, elle était parfois un peu méchante mais elle était une bonne personne. C'était des gens bien, c'est pour ça qu'ils étaient ensemble! Addie a tourné la tête et a regardé à blanc Emily, clignotant avec sa bouche accrochée ouverte. Quelle question! Quelle question difficile! Personne ne lui avait jamais demandé quelque chose comme ça. Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas chez toi? Bien sûr, Addie ne connaissait pas le concept d'une question rhétorique et ne savait même pas ce que signifiait la rhétorique. Donc, plutôt que de l'ignorer ou de faire une blague comme une personne normale le ferait, Addie a simplement élargi son sourire comme un enfant et a répondu de la seule façon qu'elle savait comment. Le sens littéral. "Oh wow c'est vraiment une question difficile, Em-Em mais je pense que j'ai une réponse pour toi et c'est probablement ma famille pas vous les gars qui sont ma nouvelle meilleure famille utilisée mais ma maman et papa et Ty-Ty et Pee et moi qui sont mes frères qui je pense que maman et papa aiment plus parce qu'un Noël Ty-Ty voulait une boîte d'oeufs que je pensais être drôle parce que ce que vous pouvez faire avec une boîte d'oeufs sauf les casser et obtenir tout désordre mais je voulais un nouveau fer à souder parce que j'ai cassé mon vieux après avoir brûlé mes mains comme tout le temps et je pensais que Père Noël me donnerait une corde parce que je suis la fille la plus bonne pour le saké de bonté mais quand Noël est venu tout ce que j'ai eu des vêtements qui ne m'allaient pas et Ty-Ty a eu cette étrange boîte noire qu'il a dit un Eggsbox mais il n'a pas toujours eu ce qu'il a besoin de sa chambre et je le saurais parce que je l'ai cassé pour moi et Ty était vraiment fou à moi et mes parents m'ont un peu difficile Addie a parlé sans pause jusqu'à ce qu'elle atteigne la fin de son rapide dérapage. Sans manquer un battement, elle se retourna vers Moonman, souriant encore malgré le récit d'une petite tranche d'années de négligence et de discipline, et demanda ce qu'elle pensait depuis le début. "Qu'est-ce qu'un terrain de campingddddd? Est-ce que c'est comme un terrain ordinaire mais différent? » Le monde était un endroit si intéressant, surtout quand il était vu à travers les yeux d'Addie.

SPENCER “SUN” BRADSHAW LET’S KILL TONIGHT • READY TO GO • LYING • BONUS THEME — BUT IT’S BETTER IF YOU DONAME }} Spencer Ryan Bradshaw CODENAME }} ‘SUN’ AGE }} 16 SPECIALTY }} Infiltration— Spencer’s skill is similar to Max’s, but utilised in a different way. The intention of Spencer’s specialty is to enter the premises and survey the situation - plot out faster routes for the group, detect movement from security or, hell, even criminals, etc.{{ OUTSPOKEN • FIERCE • SARCASTIC • SMUG • COCKY }} PERSONALITY }} As his history might suggest, Spencer is a born entertainer. He loves the spotlight, but all the world’s a stage. He speaks with a unique and cultured wit, which contradicts how sheltered he was in a religious home and is, undeniably, the best part of most social outings. He is hedonistic and has an eye for attractive things, which is likely how he maintains his own appearance and keeps others interested. He is so focused on immediate pleasures, however, that he often neglects whatever duties are necessary to make these luxuries possible. Spencer relies far more on luck or opportunity (or those around him) to get him through life rather than using any complex problem-solving. Even though it’s not immediately obvious, Spencer is quite aware that not everything is always about him. He is observant and sensitive to others’ emotions, but that doesn’t necessarily means he cares enough about them to help a majority of the time. In fact, Spencer is fairly jaded, and will usually only offer his help to those he is close to or knows well. He is definitely not one to rely on for emotional support or practical advice unless you’re absolutely sure how much of an asset you are in his life. In any case, he is more likely to avoid a conflict than address it head-on. He enjoys a little bit of drama and passion, but when he’s the center of criticism, he doesn’t take it very well at all. He doesn’t seem especially ‘ruthless’ upon first impressions, but Spencer definitely has the charisma and confidence down to be a leader (truthfully, he’s considered one among his group of friends, but he’d never adopt an official label). He easily overwhelms those who are more timid and sensitive, and his determined relentlessness could easily repel those who aren’t used to his domineering nature. A true powerhouse, Spencer cultivates an image of being larger than life; but, hell, all of this gets to his head sometimes. He’s arrogant, with seemingly unmoving convictions and an intolerance towards ‘outsiders,’ which typically disgusts those who get close enough to recognise exactly how dominant he can be. With all his headstrongness and self-confidence, Spencer easily steps over unwritten boundaries. He’s extremely sarcastic, and with his wit, it’s no surprise when he spits out some sharp insult at someone he deems too incompetent for the team. When he isn’t careful enough, he gets too caught up in the moment, takes things too far, and runs roughshod over more sensitive people. He definitely keeps things interesting and competitive. Other people’s feelings and emotions come second to his own (and his own feelings come second to those of people closest to him), and his blunt honesty mixed with that definitely leaves him seeming rather insensitive. Max has such an effect on his personality that Spencer practically has an entirely separate persona from his ‘normal’ state. He retains all the exuberance, but loses any potential bite to refrain from hurting Max - that is, unless it’s necessary to uphold a back-and-forth of good-natured quipping. They’ve learned each other’s boundaries well, and know how to interact so well you’d think they were friends from birth. Spencer upholds a certain image, however, in which he appears unaffected by petty romance, so these moments are reserved for only ‘the sun and the moon’. STRENGTHS }} Spencer has sex appeal that is very difficult to ignore. He knows how to use it masterfully, and can often bend people to his will using this strength alone. In his (unfortunate) world, age has never seemed to be a problem to those who find him attractive. Compelling and attractive, Spencer never has a problem getting along with anyone he meets. He is extremely charismatic and, with all his observational skill, picks up on how people would like him to act. Wisely so, he does just that. Spencer rarely acts on his own accord when trying to earn a new ally. Spencer’s fine motor skills are amazing. He’s no magician and doesn’t casually whip out cards to show off his talent, but he has mastered sleight of hand. He is incredibly cunning, although most wouldn’t believe it until they learned of his dexterity. Incredibly deceptive, Spencer can lie about anything he’d like to, given the right materials. His habit goes beyond pathological, quite honestly; he does it for sport at this point. WEAKNESSES }} While he is fine enough at using it for advantage, Spencer’s gravitation towards sex is his ultimate downfall some of the time. Spencer can be too proud sometimes. Whether it sets another person off or simply threatens them, his ego could easily get him into trouble at some point. It’s happened before, and it’s only a matter of time before Spencer gets into serious trouble. Surprise, surprise: Spencer isn’t a perfect person. He’s a bit prejudiced, actually. Although he’s not full-on misogynist, Spencer is somewhat sexist, and underestimates women as a gender both physically and mentally. If someone so much as threatened Max, Spencer’s world would crumble. All important duties, all his other predicaments, would be set aside to help his ‘moon’. That said, Spencer could easily be subject to blackmail.HISTORY }} Well, you don’t get involved with Richard Michaels by being all sunshine and flowers. Spencer is a shining example of that fact. Sure, he was raised by a mormon family, but like that stopped him. After a few hiccups in school (read: breakdowns) due to the pressure being put on him to act like a fucking angel, Spencer decided enough was enough for his mormon lifestyle. He started off slow; showing up to church less often, avoiding his family as best he could and, hell, sneaking off in the middle of the night. It was innocent at first - he went to the local bar to play music and stare at the ladies (which soon turned into staring at the boys), having a pretty good time. That was, until, he met Maximillian Lucas Reed V. Ridiculous name. Anyway, this boy sent Spencer hurtling into the clouds. All it took was a good while in the back room of a gay bar and before he knew it, Spencer had just taken up a bouncer job at the local strip club (slash drug trading hotspot for criminal extraordinaire Richard Michaels). Of course, this wasn't when Spencer got involved with Michaels, oh, no, that time would come very soon. In fact, it was a week later. Spencer was in the middle of a little ‘show’ he’d put on for Max in the back room (which, might he add, is still one of their best moments to this date), having hired some random guy to take up the slack for the night, when the police came banging on the door. Three minutes, two arrests and one awkward moment later, the dynamic duo found themselves in a police department with other teenagers. That was when Richard Michaels came in. One teenager, Sinéad, had the bright idea of running from the department. Despite the obvious doubt that arose, her bright idea actually worked. It was only then that they realised they were screwed. So, the group went to the only person they knew of that could help them - the King of the Criminal Underworld. Luckily for them, they were all followers of the man (which had been the police’s original reason for arresting them before they found out about their less-than-legal activities). So, they were taken under Michaels’ wing - given jobs in the criminal network, provided a safe enough place to live without fear of authorities, gave them food and water; all the good stuff. Some of them found joy in the various substances they smuggled, others found different ways of entertaining themselves on the side. But, no matter what they did, nothing could’ve prepared them for what happened next - Spencer included. Then again, when do you ever expect that one day you’ll be violently awoken and told to flee your place of refuge; to go back into the world you’d managed to escape? At least, Spencer certainly didn’t. OTHER }} BELIEVE with jishwa

Lieu: TRAIN → GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS Interagir avec: ‘Boston Renegades' "Peut-être que je n'agis pas comme avant, parce que je ne ressens pas la même chose pour toi, En fait, c'est un mensonge, Je te veux" Zoey soupira à elle-même de ne pas lui montrer son ennui quand Max les tira dans un cercle. Elle a deviné que c'était parce qu'elle fumait, qu'il prenait généralement en charge et qu'elle savait que cela attirait l'attention inutile, surtout quand il semblait que personne d'autre dans toute la station fumait. Elle s'en foutait. Des temps comme ceux-ci étaient où des risques personnels pouvaient être pris, du moins pour elle. Elle a pris une autre longue traînée de sa cigarette avant de la faire sauter dans une longue ligne droite devant elle. Elle en a pris une autre presque tout de suite, mais laisse son bras reposer à ses côtés après au lieu d'y retourner. Le nuage gris a commencé à s'étendre et à se lever autour des adolescents, mais elle n'a pas pris beaucoup de remarque. Zoey a regardé autour du groupe dans un cercle, souriant doucement à elle-même comme elle l'a fait. La situation n'a peut-être pas été la meilleure, mais en ce moment elle s'est sentie assez détendue et heureuse. Elle était avec de bons amis, des gens qu'elle était venue reconnaître comme une famille, une famille très dysfonctionnelle, mais néanmoins une famille. Elle était sortie, explorant, aventureuse. Pas tout à fait, mais elle a essayé de faire un tour positif. Elle avait toujours voulu être sortie de son trou de merde à Londres et alors qu'elle avait parfois le mal du pays, elle jouissait des libertés qu'elle avait dans un endroit beaucoup plus ensoleillé et magnifique. Et surtout, elle avait tout ce dont elle avait besoin pour une bonne nuit, de l'herbe et des cigarettes. Elle regarda autour du cercle des adolescents en pensant à chacun d'eux. D'abord, ses yeux ont débordé d'Emily. Son surnom lui convenait bien, Salope, et ce n'était pas une insulte pour elle. Elle était drôle, et Zoey pouvait facilement s'entendre avec elle comme elle aimait les blagues grossières et baise à peu près autant qu'Emily elle-même. Jace, le type de l'informatique. Mais il était adorable, et Zoey savait qu'elle ne pouvait pas vraiment manquer de respect à quelqu'un qui tenait autant d'intelligence que lui, ce qui était plus qu'elle ne pouvait jamais espérer avoir. Si elle continuait à tourner autour du cercle, elle est arrivée à Max et Spencer. Le plus désuet, mais le plus mignon couple de tous les temps. Elle les aimait, même si parfois ils l'irritaient. Elle a regardé autour de lui, avant de se rendre compte qu'ils manquaient de quelqu'un. Où était Addie? "Où allons-nous maintenant? "BOOOOOO"! Zoey a failli sauter de sa peau. "Pour l'amour du ciel, Addie!" Elle s'est dit, en s'éloignant du groupe une seconde pour se retrouver. Elle ouvrit la bouche pour parler à nouveau, mais Emily avait dit ce qu'elle allait faire, alors elle se taisait. Elle s'est vraiment demandé ce qui n'allait pas avec Addie. Elle a pris une profonde respiration avant de soulever la cigarette encore brûlante et de prendre une autre traction, regarder et écouter pendant qu'Addie continuait... une rancune? Raconter une histoire? Elle était si confuse. Cette fille pourrait littéralement parler pour le monde entier. Mais sans pauses ni respiration, et presque tout ce qu'elle a dit était absurde. Toujours. Elle était drôle, et elle était si naïve à tout ce à quoi elle était parfois gentille de parler, quand Katie voulait vraiment rire. Elle a marché, prenant une autre traction avant de mettre sa main sur l'épaule d'Addies. "C'est juste un terrain ordinaire, Addie, avec de l'herbe, de la saleté et des trucs. Mais vous pouvez y mettre des tentes et camper toute la nuit. Elle a dit, souriant doucement. "Rien de trop spécial". Elle a dit. "Et je cours à travers le contrôle sonore, Juste pour te rencontrer, sur ta pause pédé, et tu m'as convaincu de mettre la vie de côté. Et vous voulez".

KATIE "KAT" GARDINER Catfish and the Bottlemen - Homesick • The Kooks - Naive • Arctic Monkeys - When the sun goes down KATIE }} KAT }} 17 }} ACTING}} {{ Cynical • Addictive • Sensitive • Lonely • Laid back }} PERSONALITY }} Cynical; Katie knows how people work, including herself, and has come too the conclusion that people are in it for themselves. She finds it hard to trust people if she hasn't known them for a while after what has happened with Micheal's and other events in her past. This means though, that the people she does trust she relies on more than she otherwise would if she had more people by her side. Emotional support is something that wasn't readily available too her when she was younger for most of her life, so while sometimes she doesn't know how to take it she does appreciate it. Addictive; Katie is a victim of having an addictive personality. Once she tries something once and enjoys it, she will usually go out of her way too keep that thing in her life. Not even Katie knows if this is just her natural shitty personality, or if its a way too keep her happy and hide what lies deep below, buried below the drugs and cigarettes. Sensitive; Although she would hate too admit it, Katie is sensitive. She cares what people think, much more than you would guess if you had been around her for ten minutes. She hates being judged for who she is, where she's from or how she acts which is why she may seem either more reserved around new people, or try too seem more intimidating. However, the latter rarely works. Lonley; Katie grew up Lonely. Sure, she had friends, but they weren't people she could really get on with or connect with. They were people for her to go out and cause trouble with. Sure, she cared for them, and they cared for her, but they all knew that it wasn't going to last. She grew up lonely, causing trouble and searching for connections to fill the gaps. Maybe this is why she cares so much for the group she is with now, she doesn't want to feel overwhelmed by loneliness again. Laid back; Contrasting all of this, Katie has become rather laid back. She tried too keep the group from internal conflicts and hates too see splinters start too form, but would rather sit back and relax than get involved in the fights and arguments. She doesn't hold much of a sharp posture, and seems too not care less about the risks of most things she does. STRENGTHS }} Actress; Katie is an amazing actress, and coupled with this she uses what natural beauty she has too her advantage, luring in targets and infiltrating small groups and buildings, tricking men with her charm. Small and nimble; Katie isn't huge, standing at 5'4 and only just reaching a healthy weight for a girl of her height. She has good agility, she can climb and sneak around and move in and out of places quite well without being seen thanks too this. Makes infiltration easier, along with shoplifting. Seems innocent; Nobody expects a girl who looks like her too be carrying drugs around for criminals, or too be on the run from them. WEAKNESSES }} Weak; Katie is physically weak. There is no way she could win a close quarters fight. At all. Intelligence; While she definitely isn't the most stupid, she isn't the most smart. She has minor dyslexia, so while she can read its harder and takes longer. She was never any good at maths or English in school either. HISTORY }} Katie grew up in south east London, on a council estate in Plumstead. It was nick-named 'concrete city' in the local area, as it was a mess of tall flat complexes, small sweet shops and gangs. Drugs, alcohol, stabbings and mugging was common where she lived. Her father had recently lost his job, and was looking for another one, and her mother was working two low paying jobs day and night. While they waited too be able too move, they were placed by the government in a temporary flat in concrete city. Temporary for 15 years. Katie was okay in primary school. She didn't excel in school but she wasn't the worst, coming in average for most things. She didn't have many friends, and the journey from school too home was a perilous one. She finished when she was 11, and went too secondary school the summer after. Somehow, she managed too become friends with the 'popular' people, and this is where is all went wrong. She suddenly started going out more. She got older friends. She experimented with different things. On her twelfth birthday one of her older friends introduced her too weed for the first time, and it quickly became a regular thing for her. By her thirteenth birthday, she had managed too get herself an older boyfriend who was 16 at the time. A few months later at 14, she started smoking cigarettes. Parties every weekend. Watching gang fights. Drinking and smoking at every chance she had. Shoplifting. For her fifteenth birthday, the same friends got her coke and she tried it for the first time with them. This was used less frequently compared too everything else, but more than average. She started skipping school and her parents wanted nothing more than too be out of concrete city. Her dad took a job offer in America, and her whole life was taken and moved across the Ocean. After settling down in America, she met the group before they got involved with Micheal's. She made friends. She started getting better. But, while trying to repair her damaged life, she managed too get herself into more trouble than she was in before. OTHER }} She is a smoker. English accent. Bi-sexual. More pictures of her;

C'était une nuit normale d'automne à Ridgeway Pennsylvania. Bien sûr, chaque nuit d'automne à Ridgeway est la même, et rien ne change jamais. Les choses sont calmes et calmes, les gens marchant dans les rues à leur petit magasin préféré. La ville peut être si belle à l'automne. Même la nuit. Le soleil n'a pas encore été couché, mais les lumières de la rue sont allumées, éclairant les rues. Le parc dans le centre de Ridgeway est un endroit très populaire, pour tout le monde dans la ville. Au moins tous les habitants de la ville viennent d'y aller pour être là au moins une fois dans leur vie. Un de nos "héros", Jay McNeil, est assis dans le parc sur un banc, dessinant un story board pour une sorte de film pour lequel il a une idée. C'est quelque chose qu'il fait souvent, maintenant qu'il n'a pas à s'inquiéter du lycée. Il ne regarde pas le lycée de Ridgeway presque jamais. Jay s'assied et écrit, étant surveillé par les montagnes de la vallée du Wyoming.

He's good to go!

James profita de cette agréable soirée et partit pour une promenade à l'extérieur. Il l'a fait souvent dans le passé s'il voulait penser à travers un algorithme compliqué mais à l'heure actuelle il était en vacances dans une petite ville pastorale et il est juste allé faire une promenade sans penser à quoi que ce soit. Il a trouvé un espace vide au milieu du parc de la ville, non loin d'un jeune garçon qui dessinait quelque chose et a commencé à pratiquer sa séquence "Cannon fist", soulignant ses frappes avec fa-jin, faisant tout un bruit.

Name: James Iehezkel Swift Age: 31 Appearance: Tall pleasant looking man with curly short hair, intelligent eyes and a goatee. James has a sporty body structure with broad shoulders and a scar above his left eye. Has a tattoo of the star of david on his right shoulder. Bio: James is actually a computer programmer by profession but he got tired of the continuous pressure and deadlines, so he came to Ridgway for a getaway. Despite his profession, James grew up in a bad neighbourhood, so he is a rather skilled martial artist because he had no choice but start training in a very young age and use it for self defence numerous times. Skills: Generally very intelligent and perceptive, has a good understanding of technology (i.e. good with computers and mechanical equipment), a very skilled and experienced martial artist(melee), trained in different martial arts disciplines. Disadvantages: Bad with guns and other ranged weapons(most likely to shoot himself in the foot), new in Ridgway so doesn't know much about it.

Métropolis. Une ville animée, pleine de nourriture grasse chère, des rugrats, des touristes stupides, et tout ce qui est génial dans la grande ville. L'odeur de l'essence et le bruit de disputer les gens remplissent l'air. Malgré tout ça, c'est plutôt paisible. Jusqu'à ce que ce méchant apparaisse. L'homme vaudou. Ses petits minions sont partout, éveillant des ennuis pour vous et tous les citoyens. Tu as une rancune sur le gars toi-même, probablement. Mais il semble que vous n'êtes pas le seul. Le maire cherche à mettre fin à la charade de l'homme vaudou et a envoyé des lettres pour récupérer des héros, une nouvelle génération de combattants pour protéger la ville. Après avoir reçu la lettre vous-même, vous vous pointez à la mairie pour n'importe quelles raisons. Vous êtes rencontré à la réception par une réceptionniste d'âge moyen grincheux avec une voix de fumeur croque qui vous donne un formulaire et vous indique au bureau du maire. Quand vous arrivez là-bas, d'autres vous regardent déjà et vous regardent curieusement au fur et à mesure que vous entrez. Qui sont les autres idiots? Maxwell Weiseman Phaseur Maxwell était l'un des premiers arrivés, bien que personne ne l'ait remarqué. L'école a lâché tôt aujourd'hui, heureusement. Quelque chose au sujet du système d'égouts qui a été remis en état... mais quand n'était-ce pas quelque chose cassé à cet endroit, vraiment? Mais qui était Max pour se disputer à propos de partir tôt? Il avait environ, quoi, 15 minutes de paix jusqu'à ce qu'il trouve la lettre dans sa boîte aux lettres? Max n'a certainement pas hésité à courir là-bas aussi vite qu'il le pouvait après avoir vu le nom du méchant— eh bien, téléporté quelques fois vraiment. C'est le même gars qui a délibérément fait de lui encore plus d'une parade parmi ses pairs, sans raison apparente. Max n'allait pas se venger, il voulait simplement l'arrêter avant de blesser quelqu'un d'autre. C'est comme ça qu'il était. Maxwell était arrivé et s'était assis tranquillement dans une chaise, remplissant soigneusement la pile géante de paperasse avec des informations soignées, ne essayant pas de socialiser avec d'autres héros à venir qui sont venus. Cependant, quelques-uns l'ont pris l'œil. Soit ils étaient bruyants, effrayants, soit tout simplement étranges. Max s'est senti comme s'il avait pu entrer dans la mauvaise pièce plusieurs fois. Cela l'a seulement rendu plus conscient quand il a regardé vers le bas et a vu qu'il était encore dans son uniforme d'école habituel, le faisant paraître encore plus au mauvais endroit par rapport à ces gens fou regarder. Ils ont au moins regardé hors du lycée, si quelque chose... Mais il n'a rien dit. Juste tranquillement réparé ses lunettes et est retourné à sa paperasse. Après tout, il n'y avait aucun moyen qu'il puisse parler à l'un de ces bizarres, même s'il le voulait. Violet Riise Vixen de flamme Un petit sourcil blanc, sceptique, se cognait à l'entrée de l'hôtel de ville, jugeant l'immeuble abondamment. Pour un hôtel de ville, c'était vraiment maladroit. Pas étonnant qu'elle ait préféré les ruelles, au moins les néons avaient plus de vie que cet endroit terne! Violet a pris un autre regard ennuyé sur la lettre, déjà fracassé dans une balle dans sa main. Elle a ensuite jeté un coup d'œil à tous les professionnels en costumes et talons entrant dans l'hôtel de ville. Ses yeux sont tombés sur sa propre tenue, qui était vraiment à court d'un haut de bikini et d'une jupe en latex avec une paire de baskets. Elle a mis une veste dessus, donc elle n'était pas complètement nue... "Ils voulaient de moi pour mon pouvoir, pas pour le manque de matériel sur mon corps. Je suis sûr que le maire ne se plaindra pas." Violet huffed, griffant l'arrière de sa tête avec ennui. Finissons-en pour que je puisse frapper le visage de ce vaudou. La jeune fille aux cheveux blancs est entrée dans l'endroit, ses mains clouées pointues maintenant dans ses poches de veste, elle se cassait la gomme curieusement alors qu'elle regardait paresseusement. Violet s'est approchée de la réceptionniste, notant sa peau et ses dents terribles et l'arôme d'au moins trois paquets de cigarettes, avant de prendre le paquet lourd d'elle et de se diriger vers le bureau du maire. "Aaand dans la poubelle..." Après avoir jeté le paquet de papiers qu'elle était censée remplir, Violet a poussé la porte en chêne du bureau du maire et est entré rapidement, seulement pour être rencontrée avec des paires d'yeux qui la regardaient dans l'attente. Ah, oui? Oh, la note disait "héros"... pluriel. Il aurait probablement dû lire la chose au lieu de l'écumer. Oh, et bien. "Bonjour mon pote, je veux dire mutants. Quelqu'un a vu M. Maire?" Très négligente, Violet sauta sur le bureau du maire alors qu'elle le demandait et traversa les jambes, assise confortablement où elle se trouvait et ne se souciant pas d'interagir vraiment avec quelqu'un d'autre que cela. (Je m'excuse si quelqu'un m'a manqué.)

Real Name: Violet Riise Nickname(s): Vivi, Leader, Psycho, Flamehead Hero Name: Flame Vixen Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: female Age: 21 Appearance: Standing at 5'4", Violet is short to match her short temper. Even though she has a very pretty heart shaped face with large magenta cat-like eyes, a small nose, thin brows and light pink-beige small lips, it can easily become terrifying when those big eyes light up in full-fledged fire. Violet is pale and is a fairly average weight, but can become very aggressive if you mention her round rump or thick thighs. She has long, wavy white hair that is dyed, her natural hair color being brown. She often wears skimpy clothes with a white flame on them, considering it her symbol. Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): Two switchblades strapped to her thighs and a shotgun. Main Power: Pyrokinesis. Can manipulate fire and create it out of thin air using only her mind. When truly furious goes into "Rage Inferno" where her whole body is covered in flames. Sub Power: None. Personality: Violet is a very unstable person. Considered bipolar, she can be very friendly and personable at one moment and the next be ready to rip you to shreds. She leans towards physical violence in order to get her way, and if she doesn't she will flip the fuck out. Violet is a very self centered person, but if you manage to get on her good side, she will swear by her life to protect you. Like with her gang, she might be rough with you still but it is with love, and she will treat you like family. Get on her bad side though... well, let's just say you'll regret it. History: Violet was raised by her mother, her parents being divorced and her father running off with another woman. Believe it or not, Violet was actually a good student up until her Junior year, where the school had a turnover and new teachers came in. She didn't like any of them, and most were real bastards to her, so she slowly faded out of school until eventually she barely ever went. It was also around the time her mother found a new boyfriend. Instead of going to school, Violet found another place to put her time and energy. A few years ago, downtown Metropolis was overrun with gangs that were constantly at war with one another. Most couldn't even walk down the street without a weapon. Sick of this, Violet started her own gang to set things straight, naming it "Devilspawn." Originally it was just a group of stupid high schoolers that acted as vigilantes and beat back gangs that got a little too aggressive, but as a few years passed and the gang grew so did another gang. The competing gang started a fight with Devilspawn, and when they went straight for Violet, she lit them up not with a gun but with real fire. She discovered that she was a mutant, with the power to manipulate and create fire from her own mind. The others became afraid of Violet and her gang, leaving Metropolis all together. The gang now is used as a sort of, violent neighborhood watch. Things were running smoothly, until one night all the gangs that had turned tail and fled came back— but with the force of the Voodoo Man. They took out many of the Devils, and this infuriated Violet, because they were like family to her. She swore revenge on the Voodoo Man for causing her 'family' such pain, and now searches him out to give him what he deserves! Other: Is the leader and founder of the largest gang in Metropolis, "Devilspawn." Their symbol. Real Name: Maxwell Weiseman Nickname(s): Max Hero Name: Phaser Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: male Age: 17 Appearance: Max is a tall but thin boy, with little to no muscle mass at all and his height a little above 6'5". He has shaggy, somewhat outgrown black hair that falls over his matching black eyes that are always hidden behind thick lenses on a studious pair of black glass frames. He always has a somewhat sad look on his face, with a sharp chin and soft bone structure, thin lips and straight brows. Max is a little sensitive about his longer nose, as well as his pale complexion that always seems to lack proper blood flow. He always wears clothes that are a bit too big on him and seem baggy, most often seen in his school uniform. If you asked people what his best physical feature was, they most likely would say he has a "cute ass." Sexuality: demisexual Weapon(s): Metal-toed boots and metal knuckles Main Power: Teleportation. Can travel at maximum a few blocks away, and as far as consecutive teleportations, the further away he has to teleport one after another the harder it is. Just in fights, teleporting within a few feet he is able to do it much more easily. Overdoing it could make him pass out. Sub Power: By extending his palm out flat or using the top of his forearm to create a shield of plasma. It can only last for a few hits each, and can immediately shatter if it's hit with a full blast of another's power. He can only create one in the span of a couple of hours, and it is only about 1 and a half feet at maximum for length and width. Physical attacks don't do much damage to it. Personality: Max is a very quiet soul. He's fairly shy and soft spoken, often preferring to be alone than amongst others. He is often trampled on because of his passivity but Max never complains about it. He is respectful and kind, and will help others as long as he doesn't have to interact with them. History: Max has been second place his entire life. Always a straight B student, the second child, the silver trophy winner in everything he attempted— he never could win first place. His mother and father were devoted to his older brother and completely bypassed little Max, never recognizing his second rate achievements. He really lived a normal life however. A devoted student, though a bit shy and shut away from anything social, he really tried and never complained about anything. Max simply kept to himself, head down. And just like any teen, he had love interests. Max had a crush on this girl named Amber for two years of school, but never attempted to talk to her. Walking home from school one day, Amber was looking at her phone and walked out in front of a bus that was driving too fast down the road. Max, without thinking, ran out and grabbed her. But, suddenly, they were on the other side of the road. Passerby were shocked, whispering to each other about the weird teleporting mutant. Amber was scared of him, even though he had saved her, and ran away to avoid him completely at school. Max was heartbroken. But he didn't complain. He later found out that those who had whispered around them at the corner were not normal passerby. They were puppets of the Voodoo Man, seeking to torment the innocent mutant. Max wasn't angry, but he was upset. He wanted to defeat the Voodoo Man, not for himself, but so no one else can be hurt like he was. Other: Cannot see more than two feet in front of him without his glasses. Senior in high school. Has fairly bad social anxiety.

Lei Zhang Slitherman Un jeune homme s'approcha avec soin du bureau de la réceptionniste, lâchant doucement sa gorge pour attirer son attention, puis déployant et affichant la lettre qu'il avait reçue. La femme aux intempéries regardait son étrange ensemble de veste, sweat à capuche, masque et cravate avec une expression incrédule, comme pour demander 'c'était le meilleur costume que vous pourriez trouver?' Finalement, elle lui tendit un paquet assez épais et l'orienta vers l'endroit où tous les autres héros se rassemblaient apparemment. Rapidement s'écoulant à travers le contenu des papiers alors qu'il marchait, Lei s'est soudainement figé alors qu'il sentait un bourdonnement réverbérant du téléphone dans sa poche arrière. En le priant et en le tournant à l'écran, il soupira alors qu'il voyait les mots gras d'un message texte emplaçonné sur le devant, en lisant dans les calottes d'appel,. L'homme masqué s'est arrêté un moment avant d'écrire un message, qu'il a découvert extrêmement difficile à faire en portant des gants en cuir. Lei a décidé que c'était le bon moment pour arrêter son téléphone. Secouant la tête alors qu'il imaginait l'orage qui brassait maintenant dans sa vie familiale, l'homme écaillé tenta de repousser ces pensées lorsqu'il ouvrit la porte au bureau. Un moment de blindage alors qu'il scannait la pièce, le large éventail de gens là-bas l'a pris un peu par surprise. Bien sûr, il a pris quelques regards aussi, ce avec ses cheveux verts et les pupilles éparpillées de ses yeux jaunes. Optant simplement à rester silencieux et à remplir les formulaires qu'il avait reçus, Lei s'est rendu compte trop tard que la réceptionniste avait négligé de lui donner un stylo, ce qu'il doutait d'une manière ou d'une autre était accidentel. Décider qu'il pourrait probablement en trouver un quelque part sur le bureau du maire, l'homme à capuche a fait son chemin là-bas et a commencé à chercher, ce qui l'a malheureusement mis à proximité assez proche de la... femme habillée libéralement qui était assise occasionnellement au-dessus de lui. "J'emprunte ça." Il murmura tranquillement devant elle en agitant un stylo noir dans sa main. Comme elle était l'une des rares personnes dans la pièce sans paquet, il a supposé qu'elle faisait peut-être partie du personnel personnel du maire ou quelque chose du genre. Elle semblait se comporter comme si elle était propriétaire de l'endroit. Alors que Lei commença à remplir certaines des lignes blanches, il se rendit compte amèrement qu'il était assez difficile d'écrire avec des gants en cuir, aussi. Il a certainement sous-estimé la quantité de papiers qu'il rencontrerait quand il a adapté ce costume de crime, c'était sûr.

Real Name: Kimberly Hawkins Nickname(s): Princess, Alpha Bitch, Kimmie, Kim Hero Name: Mongrel Gender: Female Age: 19 Appearance: Sexuality: Cute and/or Handsome Individuals Weapon(s): Carries Pepper-spray Main Power: Werewolf Form - Willingly or (usually the case) unwillingly Kimberly transforms into a bestial werewolf with vicious and brutish strength with which she can tear through metal, chew through bone, long leaps towards prey, alongside other such feats of might. Sub Power: Monstrous Mind - The mind of a Werewolf Mutant is an easy yet complicated subject, which is very devoted. As such it scrambles any attempts of telepathy to read or influence. Personality: Kimberly is quite simply put a narcissist. She is incredibly vain in regards to her appearance and status among others. Often she acts with perky and ditzy front in an attempt to gain sympathy, attention and good thoughts among peers. But this belies the impishness of her character, as she has few qualms about using people and then stabbing them in the back. While she is mostly in things for herself and could care less about others, she does seem to genuinely care about whoever is part of her cheerleading squad at the time. But that could likely be chalked up to that however they look will rub off on her. As the Mongrel her behavior is much more simplistic. While Kimberly could possibly keep the instincts in check, this hardly ever happens. Mongrel is driven by the primary goals of conquering threats and hunting prey to feast. These two desires are gone after through fairly simplistic means of asserting their strength to accomplish the single-minded goals the Mongrel has at heart. If clearly outmatched, Mongrel will take the flight option of 'Fight v Flight' History: Kimberly Hawkins was born in the lap of luxury near the beaches of Cali. Her father was a ruthless venture capitalist, and her mother was a no nonsense corporate lawyer. Truly Kimberly was born in a family that were excellent at demonstrating empathy. For the most part Kimberly was a latch-key kid who was free to do all sorts of things. With this time, Kimberly Hawkins plotted and schemed the way for her to become the absolute top of the social hierarchy as the family funds were not enough. That's when she knew she needed to become a cheerleader, the Captain above all the others. She spent countless hours training, learning routines and dedicating her body to be prepared for the craft. She breezed through tryouts with her skills alongside sabotaging any who could provide a decent competition for her destined spot as the Captain. Kimberly then proceeded to dominate her social circles and rule with an iron fist. But such acts of politicking were not enough to lead us to where she is today. For that we must learn about how she came into contact with the Voodoo Man's insidious ways, and how the Mongrel came to be. That time came again where Kimberly needed to show why she needed to be the Captain of the squad. However through horrible and most sinister machinations, Kimberly was outperformed by a new girl who just moved into town, clearly by orders of the Voodoo Man in order to ruin the sanctity of this organization and destroy their chances to win at the out of state competition. The coach insisted that Kimberly could still be Vice Captain. She snapped and transformed into the Werewolf known as Mongrel and caused a ruckus. She couldn't show her face there again or be a part of the squad, let alone lead it. Leaving in shame, Kimberly Hawkins swore vengeance against the Voodoo Man and all of his minions. Luckily her quest would not just remain the angry complaints of a teenager for she was found by the group of Generation X who were after the same goal. But of course their goal was not as important because they weren't Kimberly; still she'll take what she can get. Other: Generation X! Generation X! Let's go fight! Show our might!

L'hélicoptère Mastertorn s'est posé sur le toit de l'hôtel de ville. Sara et Veronica les seuls occupants sont sortis. L'hélicoptère est revenu d'où il venait. Veronica avec l'arme en main est entré dans le bâtiment pour s'assurer qu'il n'y avait pas de danger caché. Sara a juste roulé les yeux. Ils ont fini par se rendre au rassemblement des héros. Sara s'est assise. Veronica a pris une position défensive par Sara. Sara a arpenté les occupants de la pièce. Elle avait déjà un dossier prêt sur tous, basé sur ce que le maire a fourni et ce qui pouvait être appris des réseaux sociaux et d'autres endroits. Elle s'efforçait de déterminer ce qui pourrait être ajouté aux dossiers et ce qui pourrait avoir besoin d'être supprimé. Veronica compense leurs faiblesses si le besoin s'en fait sentir et elle doit les abattre. Sara parler est cette couleur Veronica parler est cette couleur

Real Name: Thomas Mastertorn Nickname(s): Robot God “Hero” Name: Roboto Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: Female Age: 35 Appearance: Sara Mastertorn, how Thomas interacts with the rest of the world Veronica Mastertorn, Thomas’ attack robot Sexuality: Heterosexual Weapon(s): Custom laser rifle system, it can be two pistols, rifle, or sniper rifle Last resort weapon: self destruct Custom sword Main Power: Genius Intellect Sub Power: Mechanical genius Personality: Eccentric & reclusive History: Thomas was paralyzed as a young boy. As a preteen his intellect ballooned to immeasurable levels. He built his first autonomous robot at seventeen. When he was twenty he opened a company building and selling his autonomous robots. By the time he was twenty-two he was a billionaire. He built Sara Mastertorn to act as his body out in the world, no one else is allowed to buy a copy of the model. When asked why he didn’t build a male one. His only response was “Female duh!” The question was in his opinion was extremely stupid, the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. He built models to work as receptionists, retail, military, police, any and every industry he built a model for and all female. Veronica Mastertorn is exclusive to his personal use and a unique model no one else can buy. Other:

Ted Ted a entendu les cris agonisés d'un voyou qu'il avait poignardé avec son couteau de combat. Aujourd'hui était le moment pour lui d'aller à la mairie et de rencontrer cette nouvelle équipe de héros, mais d'abord il a dû sortir quelques poubelles humaines qui est. Il avait été en route pour cette première réunion, mais Ted avait vu un couple se faire harceler par un groupe de fous et être un combattant du crime signifiait qu'il devait abattre les voyous quand il les voyait causer des ennuis. Il leur avait donné son avertissement habituel et avait montré son couteau tranchant pour la mesure, mais les fous semblaient juste trouver son apparence d'ours en peluche pour être drôle et riant de lui. Ted a pris leur rire comme un signe qu'ils avaient refusé d'écouter ses paroles et de partir ainsi maintenant il était temps de douleur et de punition. Ted a sorti son couteau du premier voyou et a ensuite fait sa charge de patte avec de l'électricité et a choqué l'homme dans l'inconscience. Il a ensuite commencé à utiliser à la fois son couteau et ses pattes au combat contre le reste de ces poules. Son style de combat a été très efficace grâce à sa petite taille et il a rendu plus difficile d'être frappé. Après l'atterrissage d'un coup dur de pierre au dernier voyou, Ted s'est tenu au-dessus des voyous en sang et a sorti un cigare pour fumer. Il se tourna vers le couple qu'il avait sauvé et lâcha une bouffée de fumée. "Pas besoin de me remercier, juste faire mon travail" a-t-il dit alors qu'ils le regardaient dans un silence choqué. Il s'est alors retourné et a commencé à s'en aller. Ted entendit l'un des voyous gémir dans la douleur comme il se déplaçait vers la route principale. Il s'est arrêté et s'est penché pour regarder directement le punk tabassé. "Ne causez plus de problèmes que vous entendez? Je serai de retour si tu le fais" a-t-il dit et a mis une paire de lunettes de soleil noires pendant qu'il continuait son chemin. Il est rapidement venu à la mairie et est entré pour voir qu'il y avait d'autres surhumains déjà réunis là. On aurait dit que ça allait dans un groupe de bonne taille. "Ça ressemble à une sacrée fête. Où est le maire qui a créé ce gang?" Il a demandé à voix haute.

Real Name: Ted Nickname(s): Fuzzy Terror Hero Name: Bear Commando Gender: male Age: 18 Appearance: Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): he wields a combat knife and AK-47 Main Power: Transmutation: Ted can alter his body's physical structure to mimic many substances and elements. He can make his skin hard like rock as well as make the fur on his body surge with electricity. Ted can only have his body mimic one element or substance at a time and shifting from one to the next too quickly can tire him out. When he mimics heavy substances then he is unable to stop himself from sinking in liquid environments and when his body is made up of light elements then he is more vulnerable to severe damage thanks to lack of density. While mimicking lighter substances Ted is able to jump great distances and sometimes even float through the air with the help of air currents. Sub Power: Teddy Bear mimicry: His body is in the form of a teddy bear. This power is always active and the effect is permanent. Personality: Ted is very straight forward and always prefers a directly solution to a problem instead of complex and manipulative means. He is quick to anger and has a very crude sense of humor. His views on good and evil are based upon the actions of those he sees and whether he feels that what they did is wrong. He is not someone who uses a doctrine or ideology to shape his morality. Even though people describe him as a pessimist and a skeptic, Ted prefers to consider himself a realist. Politically he considers himself a social libertarian and a constitutionalist. He believes that freedom and the constitution should always come first over security unless a threat poses a great danger to his culture such as fascists ideologies. He is a huge supporter of the first and second amendment. He can't stand thought policing and believes that a person has a right to express whatever they want without fear. His humor is politically incorrect and believes that facts don't about a person's feelings. He also despises socialism and communism. For him democratic capitalism is the end all be all of economics. Despite his crude humor and hardcore attitude, Ted is smart enough to make good financial choices and live a decent middle class life. Finally he is very loyal to his allies and friends, but he will always remember a person who tricked him into agreeing something he doesn't like. He is not very forgiving of those who have double crossed him History: Ted was born as a normal human and lived a normal life. He did good in school and had friends and a loving family. But all that changed when his mutant powers activated while he was in high school. His body changed from that of a human to a teddy bear. This new change was the greatest shock of his life and his parents decided to take him out of school and home school him from then on. He explored his powers and realized that he had access to incredible powers. With these new powers Ted decided that he would become a hero and fight for his kind of justice. He took on the name Bear Commando and started off his hero career. Everything was good until Ted had a run in with the Voodoo Man and his super-powered goons. With his terrible powers he was able to harm people that Ted cared about. From then on Ted swore to take down Voodoo Man and his group of villains. He was approached by a group called Generation X and offered a spot on the team. Even though he didn't really like the thought of being on a team, Ted knew that he would need help to take down the Voodoo Man. Other:

Elijah est arrivé à la porte de l'hôtel de ville après un sprint mort sur la rue Main et un saut en arrière par-dessus la rue qui court parallèlement à l'immeuble. Après avoir brossé sa tenue, et s'être fracturé le cou et les doigts, il a poussé une série de portes doubles en criant : « Très bien, M. DeMille, je suis prêt pour mon gros plan. » d'une voix entendue dans tout le bâtiment. À l'approche du bureau de la réceptionniste, il a renversé un chapeau inexistant et a déclaré « Bond, James Bond ». comme la femme a jeté la pile de paperasse dans ses bras. En se dirigeant vers le bureau du maire, il a rappelé à la femme « Louis, je pense que c'est le début d'une belle amitié ». comme il lui a donné un sourire massif et un clin d'œil. Avec un saut, un saut et un saut, il a fait irruption dans le bureau du maire, a jeté un long coup d'oeil au groupe de monstres, d'inadaptés et de mutants réunis avant de dire "Toto, j'ai l'impression qu'on n'est plus au Kansas." Alors qu'il marchait vers une chaise, il a immédiatement remarqué l'ours en peluche apparemment sensible au sein du bureau. Avec un coup de coude sans contact vers la peluche, il s'est branlé et a dit "Thunder Buddies pour la vie, n'est-ce pas?" avant de s'enfoncer dans une chaise. Tirant un joli stylo de fontaine, il a parlé directement à la pile de papiers "Dis bonjour... à mon petit ami!" et a commencé à jouer furieusement à toutes les réponses qu'il pouvait sur le papier, terminant dans ce qui devait être un temps record. Avec un sourire satisfait, il a enlevé le stylo, et s'est déplacé d'une position assise dans la chaise, la plante de ses pieds appuyé contre le siège pendant qu'il s'accroupissait, ses bras se reposant contre ses cuisses, et ses yeux regardant rapidement sur chaque objet visible dans la pièce.

Real Name: Elijah Holt Nickname(s): The Madman, The Crazy, That Crazy Motherf*cker. Hero Name: Varies, see Personality Gender: Male Age: 32, unknown to most. Appearance: Elijah is bald, with massive metal studs implanted into his skull, a result of the experiments performed on him previously. He has brown eyes, which constantly dart about and never focus on one thing for too long. His face is quite gaunt and tight, giving him a devilish look, especially when coupled with the near-constant mischievous grin that adorns his face. His body is thin and lithe, and usually covered by a pitch-black outfit, and an equally-dark suit of modern, lightweight body armor. Sexuality: Omnisexual. Yes, OMNIsexual. Weapon(s): Even prior to the experiments, Elijah was a trained soldier, his body a weapon in his own right. On his person, he carries a combat knife, a custom-designed .45 caliber semi-auto pistol, and a special rifle, the JA-11, designed to fire both lasers from a special canister(about 10-12 shots before needing to be recharged), while also firing traditional 5.56 rifle rounds from a banana magazine. Main Power: The experiments performed upon Elijah have given him speed, strength, agility, and reflexes at the peak levels of human ability. He by no means has supernatural abilities, but his physical traits and awareness can rival that of Olympic athletes, him having broken many records during the post-experiment testing of his abilities. Sub Power: The experiments have also increased Elijah's metabolic rate, allowing him to heal from wounds quicker than the average human. It still takes time for major wounds to heal, and he can still die, but shallow cuts, scrapes, punctures, and bruises will scar, seal, or fade in a matter of hours. Elijah can enter a meditative state to increase the speed at which he heals, and if knocked unconscious will do this as a reflex, but he is completely unresponsive and defenseless in this state. Personality: The biggest drawback of the experiments were on Elijah's mental state. His increased physical and sensory abilities were the product of brain implants, the metal studs imbedded in his skull and displayed prominently. These activated dormant centers of the brain, increasing nearly all physical aspects of the body, but causing psychological trauma in the form of mental illness, different in each subject, as well as a common trait of hyperactivity, with subjects constantly fidgeting, jumping, moving, tapping, etc. Elijah's specific mental response to the experiments has resulted in a rather odd mannerism: He speaks solely in quotes from film and television productions. This can be rather grating on the nerves at times, and one often has to decipher his implied meaning from what he says. History: Elijah originally was a well-known hired gun, working both alongside global militaries, as well as more disreputable organizations, having learned his trade from his father, an equally infamous mercenary known as Titan. Together, the two would become some of the most sought-after soldiers of fortune in the world. Eventually, Elijah's body would start to suffer from the exertion, and after a stay in the hospital, he was contacted by a South American corporation about a procedure that could enhance his physical capabilities, and allow him to continue his work for many years to come. The procedure in question was known as Mind Over Matter, or M.O.M., and was actually highly experimental, with many different subjects being drafted alongside Elijah. The experiment was to use brain implants to activate dormant centers of the brain to push the physical body to its limit, increasing speed, strength, athletic and acrobatic abilities, senses, and metabolism. This was mostly successful, creating what ultimately resulted in a breed of super soldiers. However, the brain implants triggered flaws within the subjects, making them hyperactive, unable to stay still or quiet, and triggered psychological and mental illnesses within them. The overall project was considered a failure, and the subjects were released, with many quickly ending up in mental hospitals. Elijah was lucky enough to remain mentally coherent, however his now-permanent speech flaw of speaking only in quotes made it harder for him to contract work. However, the eventual rise of the villain known as "The Voodoo Man" would cut Elijah's return to work short. His father was among those made victim to the Voodoo Man's powers, the villain manipulating his fighting abilities to wreak havoc upon their home city. Elijah would quickly move to free him and save the city, but Voodoo Man had different ideas, forcing Elijah to fight his own father, the battle would eventually end with the death of Titan, Elijah standing his father's corpse atop a building. Elijah would vow revenge upon Voodoo Man, insisting that Generation X recruit him despite his mental flaws, so that he could end the Villain's reign once and for all. Other: N/A, for now.

Richard Scott Richard a fait un détour en allant à l'école, dans l'intention de sauter l'école pour aujourd'hui, car il avait des questions plus importantes à assister. Arrivé à l'hôtel de ville Richard a vérifié qu'il n'avait rien oublié d'important, il avait sa ceinture et sa chauve-souris d'acier au cas où les choses auraient mal tourné et la lettre qu'il a enlevée à ces cambrioleurs. Aller à la réception, il a montré sa carte à la réceptionniste et a demandé l'endroit où les héros se rencontraient, donnant un sourire à la réceptionniste. Sa question a été rencontrée avec un paquet lui étant donné et un doigt pointant vers une porte. Au début, Richard pensait qu'on lui avait donné la mauvaise porte, car cela ressemblait plus à une réunion d'ex-condamnations qu'à un super-héros, mais à son retour à la réceptionniste, on l'a rencontrée avec un éblouissement et son doigt pointant à nouveau vers la porte. Il s'assit sur la première chaise vide qu'il voyait, essayant d'ignorer la bizarrerie de la situation et prêt à commencer à écrire la paperasse. Sortir son seul crayon de sa poche Richard a commencé à écrire dans les lignes blanches, jusqu'à ce que la pointe du crayon se rompe. Richard a vérifié son sac à la recherche d'un autre crayon ou d'un stylo, ne trouvant rien et laissant demander à une autre personne comme seule option. Il a cherché la personne la plus normale dans la pièce, puisqu'ils étaient plus susceptibles d'avoir un crayon supplémentaire. Sa recherche s'est arrêtée quand il s'est mis sur un garçon portant un uniforme d'école aussi, c'était deux rangées devant lui. Puisqu'il ne voulait probablement pas l'entendre avec tous les gens de la pièce, Richard décida de le frapper à l'arrière avec sa batte, espérant attirer son attention.

Real Name: Violet Riise Nickname(s): Vivi, Leader, Psycho, Flamehead Hero Name: Flame Vixen Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: female Age: 21 Appearance: Standing at 5'4", Violet is short to match her short temper. Even though she has a very pretty heart shaped face with large magenta cat-like eyes, a small nose, thin brows and light pink-beige small lips, it can easily become terrifying when those big eyes light up in full-fledged fire. Violet is pale and is a fairly average weight, but can become very aggressive if you mention her round rump or thick thighs. She has long, wavy white hair that is dyed, her natural hair color being brown. She often wears skimpy clothes with a white flame on them, considering it her symbol. Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): Two switchblades strapped to her thighs and a shotgun. Main Power: Pyrokinesis. Can manipulate fire and create it out of thin air using only her mind. When truly furious goes into "Rage Inferno" where her whole body is covered in flames. Sub Power: None. Personality: Violet is a very unstable person. Considered bipolar, she can be very friendly and personable at one moment and the next be ready to rip you to shreds. She leans towards physical violence in order to get her way, and if she doesn't she will flip the fuck out. Violet is a very self centered person, but if you manage to get on her good side, she will swear by her life to protect you. Like with her gang, she might be rough with you still but it is with love, and she will treat you like family. Get on her bad side though... well, let's just say you'll regret it. History: Violet was raised by her mother, her parents being divorced and her father running off with another woman. Believe it or not, Violet was actually a good student up until her Junior year, where the school had a turnover and new teachers came in. She didn't like any of them, and most were real bastards to her, so she slowly faded out of school until eventually she barely ever went. It was also around the time her mother found a new boyfriend. Instead of going to school, Violet found another place to put her time and energy. A few years ago, downtown Metropolis was overrun with gangs that were constantly at war with one another. Most couldn't even walk down the street without a weapon. Sick of this, Violet started her own gang to set things straight, naming it "Devilspawn." Originally it was just a group of stupid high schoolers that acted as vigilantes and beat back gangs that got a little too aggressive, but as a few years passed and the gang grew so did another gang. The competing gang started a fight with Devilspawn, and when they went straight for Violet, she lit them up not with a gun but with real fire. She discovered that she was a mutant, with the power to manipulate and create fire from her own mind. The others became afraid of Violet and her gang, leaving Metropolis all together. The gang now is used as a sort of, violent neighborhood watch. Things were running smoothly, until one night all the gangs that had turned tail and fled came back— but with the force of the Voodoo Man. They took out many of the Devils, and this infuriated Violet, because they were like family to her. She swore revenge on the Voodoo Man for causing her 'family' such pain, and now searches him out to give him what he deserves! Other: Is the leader and founder of the largest gang in Metropolis, "Devilspawn." Their symbol. Real Name: Maxwell Weiseman Nickname(s): Max Hero Name: Phaser Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: male Age: 17 Appearance: Max is a tall but thin boy, with little to no muscle mass at all and his height a little above 6'5". He has shaggy, somewhat outgrown black hair that falls over his matching black eyes that are always hidden behind thick lenses on a studious pair of black glass frames. He always has a somewhat sad look on his face, with a sharp chin and soft bone structure, thin lips and straight brows. Max is a little sensitive about his longer nose, as well as his pale complexion that always seems to lack proper blood flow. He always wears clothes that are a bit too big on him and seem baggy, most often seen in his school uniform. If you asked people what his best physical feature was, they most likely would say he has a "cute ass." Sexuality: demisexual Weapon(s): Metal-toed boots and metal knuckles Main Power: Teleportation. Can travel at maximum a few blocks away, and as far as consecutive teleportations, the further away he has to teleport one after another the harder it is. Just in fights, teleporting within a few feet he is able to do it much more easily. Overdoing it could make him pass out. Sub Power: By extending his palm out flat or using the top of his forearm to create a shield of plasma. It can only last for a few hits each, and can immediately shatter if it's hit with a full blast of another's power. He can only create one in the span of a couple of hours, and it is only about 1 and a half feet at maximum for length and width. Physical attacks don't do much damage to it. Personality: Max is a very quiet soul. He's fairly shy and soft spoken, often preferring to be alone than amongst others. He is often trampled on because of his passivity but Max never complains about it. He is respectful and kind, and will help others as long as he doesn't have to interact with them. History: Max has been second place his entire life. Always a straight B student, the second child, the silver trophy winner in everything he attempted— he never could win first place. His mother and father were devoted to his older brother and completely bypassed little Max, never recognizing his second rate achievements. He really lived a normal life however. A devoted student, though a bit shy and shut away from anything social, he really tried and never complained about anything. Max simply kept to himself, head down. And just like any teen, he had love interests. Max had a crush on this girl named Amber for two years of school, but never attempted to talk to her. Walking home from school one day, Amber was looking at her phone and walked out in front of a bus that was driving too fast down the road. Max, without thinking, ran out and grabbed her. But, suddenly, they were on the other side of the road. Passerby were shocked, whispering to each other about the weird teleporting mutant. Amber was scared of him, even though he had saved her, and ran away to avoid him completely at school. Max was heartbroken. But he didn't complain. He later found out that those who had whispered around them at the corner were not normal passerby. They were puppets of the Voodoo Man, seeking to torment the innocent mutant. Max wasn't angry, but he was upset. He wanted to defeat the Voodoo Man, not for himself, but so no one else can be hurt like he was. Other: Cannot see more than two feet in front of him without his glasses. Senior in high school. Has fairly bad social anxiety.

Chie a heureusement sauté en rond autour du hall d'accueil principal de la mairie, heureux d'avoir l'occasion de rencontrer ce soi-disant « Voodoo Man » et la source supposée de ses capacités d'arcane. Elle se battait un peu à elle-même alors qu'elle scrutait les autres qui venaient d'arriver. Une pom-pom girl, un homme à capuche... Attendez, c'était un putain de TEDDY BEAR? Sans parler d'un autre type bizarre qui ressemblait à Hannibal Lecter s'il était membre du X-Men. Qu'est-ce que c'était que ces choses qui sortaient de sa tête? C'est bizarre... Elle a serré son jeu de cartes tarot et s'est assise à l'un des bancs dans le hall, toujours sifflant à elle-même. Tout le monde semblait spécial à sa façon, chacun ici pour ses propres raisons, probablement. Chie s'est dit qu'elle briserait un peu la glace avec un peu de chance. Rien de mal ne peut en sortir, n'est-ce pas? Elle venait juste de nettoyer les cartes avant qu'elle parte pour la mairie, de sorte que tous les mauvais juju qui ont pu ou non être dans les cartes devraient être partis. "Hé, hé!" Le jeune lecteur de tarot a appelé tout le monde. "Quelqu'un veut lire leur fortune pendant qu'on attend? C'est gratuit!~" Elle s'est glissée, impatiente de voir et/ou d'entendre les réactions de tout le monde.

Real Name: Hashimoto Chie Nicknames: Jokerette, The Fool Hero Name: Wild Card Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: Female Age: 18 Sexuality: Heterosexual Weapon(s): A deck of tarot cards. Main Power: Chie can call forth the energy within tarot cards and cause it to appear on the physical plane. Different cards do different things, with the cards symbolizing humanoids, such as The Fool, calling forth the respective figure, and more miscellaneous cards, such as The Sun or The Moon, causing some sort of miscellaneous effect(for example, The Sun would change night to day, and vice versa for the moon). However, because of the nature of the tarot cards, the deck must be shuffled and cleansed regularly, otherwise the cards lose their power, either completely or partly. As a result, she isn't really well-suited for surprise attacks or back-to-back fights with no inbetween. Sub Power: N/A Personality: Chie is a rather bubbly and naive individual. She has a deep love of cards of all kinds, and is never afraid to voice her interest in them. Maybe her interests are a bit too dominant in her life, however. Once she starts talking about her hobbies, it's hard to make her stop. Even though people voice annoyance in her because of her personality quirks, she's really not the kind of person who would bear ill will towards anyone unless they REALLY struck a nerve. Her family and her hobbies are just two things one should NEVER talk trash about around her, lest they receive an earful of screams and a fist in the face. Aside from that, however, Chie is generally quite friendly, although a bit too trusting around people who try to get on her good side and succeed. Her naivete just might be her downfall someday. History: Chie's father was a fortune teller, and a very eccentric one at that. He would often scream out the various meanings and interpretations of the tarot cards he read, and mention some pagan God or another as the overseer of all the possible outcomes the cards could lead into. Chie's mother worked at a casino and was in charge of Poker matches, and would often tell stories about the games she experienced to her daughter at home. Cards were a very major factor in the lives of the Hashimoto family, but Chie never really found her tie-in with the arcana until her father brought home one of his tarot decks after a night of heavy drinking. She drew a card off the top of the deck, and suddenly night turned to day. The card she drew was The Sun. Chie drew another card. Day turned back into night, thanks to the power of The Moon. This was her mutation: The ability to manifest the energy within tarot cards onto the physical plane. One night during the following week, Chie told her father about her newfound fascination with tarotology. He was very pleased to hear his only daughter voice interest in his profession, and made it his mission to teach her the meaning of every single tarot card. When she finally grasped the symbolism of every single one of the major and minor arcana, she decided she had to thank whoever it was that gave her the power which sparked her interest in the first place. Chie eventually discovered it was someone named "The Voodoo Man", and he apparently "must be stopped". After reading the letter, she rushed to the town hall, hoping to get more answers. Other: Something, something, the Arcana is the means by which all is revealed.

"Présentation, un Trio très étrange!" (Je m'excuse si quelqu'un m'a manqué.) Schéma de couleur pour le dialogue : John, Devan et Jayce "Ce putain de coup... juste quand j'allais finir de télécharger Battlefield 1 ils appellent pour qu'on entre... Ils sont comme des putains d'annonces YouTube. C'est pas possible de les sauter." Ses mains étaient derrière sa tête alors qu'il marchait dans la rue avec ses deux compadres. Le plus grand des trois regardait par-dessus. "Ah, mais au moins avec YouTube vous pouvez descendre-" Jayce a pointé accusablement. "Ne le dis pas! J'ai déjà essayé de deviner quoi? Le bloqueur d'annonces coûte de l'argent et maintenant... je n'ai pas de putain." La plus courte au milieu a été mise en place. "Sauf si ça vient de mon portefeuille." Un peu de veine. "Hey dipshit, c'est toi qui as suggéré que nous obtenions PlayStation 4 en premier." "En fait, c'était moi." Avec des yeux paresseux, Devan a jeté un coup d'œil. Encore une fois, avec mon argent... Que me devez-vous encore pour les dégâts causés au mur dans l'appartement." Jayce lui a tiré dessus. "Combien?" 1 400 $... Jayce était déconcerté comme John snickered. "Tout ce que j'ai fait, c'était mettre mon poing dans le mur..." "Ce qui s'est rapidement passé par la suite à la structure en béton a inévitablement mis un trou dans le bâtiment de la taille d'un basket-ball. Donc non seulement ils doivent réparer le mur dans notre appartement, mais ils doivent faire venir quelqu'un vérifier la structure des appartements puisque vous ne pouvez pas contrôler votre force et s'assurer que l'intégrité de la structure est toujours saine. Ensuite, ils doivent nous faire sortir pendant qu'ils le réparent et aussi-" Les yeux froids ont regardé dans le propre Jayce, ce qui l'a amené à flipper légèrement. "Je ne peux pas récupérer mon dépôt grâce à vous..." Devan les rétrécit alors qu'il envisageait de couper la gorge de Jayce ouverte, même s'il pouvait la guérir, cela le satisferait. "Avez-vous pensé à un cours de gestion de la colère?" John a parlé. En dehors du bâtiment du maire, ceux qui étaient à l'intérieur pouvaient entendre quelqu'un crier... "J'ai des problèmes avec l'anger que tu racontes!!!" Les deux se penchèrent de façon comique alors que Jayce leur envoyait des mots de malédiction. Alors qu'ils s'approchaient de l'entrée du bâtiment. Sans surprise, c'était le bâtiment des maires. Des réunions municipales, des permis pour différentes choses et d'autres affaires politiques ont été menées ici ainsi que la réunion de ce groupe de superhéros nouvellement formé. "Ah vous devez être le-" Jayce a été le premier par la porte avec son doigt en l'air vers la réceptionniste qui lui a simplement donné un regard sale. John suivit le costume et donna à la dame derrière le bureau un arc de lumière avant de prendre les formes dans sa main et de se diriger vers si la réunion était tenue. Devan a été le dernier à passer, car ses lames ont dû être agitées pour le groupe de héros. Jayce avait réussi à s'en sortir, mais Devan a suivi la procédure, juste pour qu'il ne marche sur aucun orteil ou ne brûle aucun pont sur la chauve-souris. Il est tombé légèrement en arrière, mais il est vite arrivé à la réceptionniste. "Bonjour." Devan a donné un sourire mince avant de réciproquer avec la même salutation polie. "Hé, alors interrogez-vous. Avez-vous vu-"Elle soupirait et pointait vers la porte comme des cris pouvaient être entendus de l'autre côté. Ces yeux paresseux retournèrent alors qu'il frottait l'arrière de son cou et se dirigea vers l'agitation, sautant tranquillement ce n'était pas ses amis. Environ 5 minutes plus tôt Jayce fut le premier à franchir la porte et jeta un bon coup d'œil à tout le monde avant que sa réponse sans tact n'arrive. "C'est une putain de fête de saucisses ici...Dammit" Il a griffé l'arrière de sa tête et s'est rendu à l'un des sièges de coin de la pièce loin de tout le monde et a sorti une cigarette et un briquet. Le briquet... Où est le... « UGhhhhhh... » Il s'est claqué la tête contre le mur avec un jarret, les bras tombés dans la défaite alors qu'il glissa plus loin dans sa chaise. Il n'a pas fallu beaucoup de temps avant que John entre dans la scène et regarde autour de lui son frère. Il y avait des gens égorgés ici, tous ici pour la même raison... peut-être. "Oh Jay-bird! J'ai un cadeau pour toi." Il chantait du chant alors qu'il se rendait à Jayce dont l'éblouissement pouvait tuer en ce moment. Sans prévenir, il a laissé tomber le paquet de formulaires sur ses genoux et un stylo avec. "Qu'est-ce que ce Jeff..." Il a dit bientôt, irritation clairement dans son ton de voix. "Ses formulaires d'enregistrement de héros qui doivent être fil-" Jayce avec dessiné la lettre qu'il a obtenu. Cher Hero, Comme vous le savez peut-être, une menace est venue dans notre grande ville. Vous avez peut-être déjà rencontré ses effets. Les gens deviennent extrêmement puissants, au-delà des normes normales et certains qui n'étaient même pas mutants à l'avance, comme vous-même. Ils sont changés par quelqu'un de manipulateur, une personne d'un esprit sombre qui l'a pour Metropolis. Il s'appelle lui-même "l'homme vaudou". Des gens innocents se font laver le cerveau par cet homme, et deviennent ces monstres féroces qui attaquent les autres sans raison apparente. Ce sont des méchants. Vous et d'autres mutants êtes notre seul espoir d'éliminer non seulement ces méchants, mais finalement l'Homme Voodoo lui-même. S'il vous plaît, rencontrez les autres à la mairie si vous êtes prêt à faire partie de cette génération de héros qui sauvera Metropolis ville. S'il vous plaît, sauvez-nous. Le maire de Metropolis Stephen Hans "Voici mon formulaire, John... Pas besoin d'autre chose." John avait l'air légèrement ennuyé. "Ce n'est pas comme ça que ça marche Jayce. C'est juste qu'on sait qu'on a été choisis. Nous avons encore de la paperasse et de la documentation à remplir pour la rendre officielle. » Jayce s'est penché pour regarder le paquet. Dieu non. Je ne vais pas remplir tout ça...'Il s'est pensé à lui-même pendant qu'il l'a ramassé pour le peser. Il soupira et s'assit et commença à travailler sur le paquet. Ça n'a pas pris longtemps avant qu'il abandonne et la laisse tomber sur le sol à côté de lui. "Non, nah, je ne remplirai pas le reste." -- Oui, nous le devons. Il s'est ébranlé la tête. -- Non, à quoi bon? "Pour plus que probable nous ajouter dans leur registre." "Non, je ne suis pas tenu par le gouvernement de le faire. Ils me choisissent donc c'est mon choix d'y aller avec. Je devrais avoir le droit de partir si je le souhaite." "Oui, ils nous choisissent toi et moi et ce gars et la fille et ça..." Il semblait distrait par l'ours en peluche sentient, laissant de la place à Jayce pour parler. "Ok donc nous devrions avoir le droit de ne pas mettre cela sur les livres." "Quels livres?" Cela s'est poursuivi jusqu'à ce que Devan entre dans lequel Joh a agité pour qu'il vienne. -- Puis-je vous laisser tranquilles cinq minutes sans vous entendre vous disputer? Jayce a tiré dans son siège et a retenu le papier. "Fuck ceci..." Lévi roula les yeux et s'assit loin d'eux. "Remplissez-le. Pour tout ce que vous savez, il pourrait y avoir un signe sur le bonus." Jayce a pris un moment pour y réfléchir et a souri à l'idée d'un grand multi grand signe avec le gouvernement comme un héros avant que Devan brise ce rêve. "Et si tu me donnes 1 400 $ pour rembourser les dommages à l'appartement..." Jayce s'assit tranquillement là à murmurer après.

Real Name: Johnathan Francis Ives Nickname(s): Johnny-B, Johnny Boy, John, Dickwad, Assweasel, Jeff (J.F), Serial Number 183348-529-S Hero Name: Dracula Gender: Male Age: 27 Appearance: Standing in at a slightly lanky 6'5", Johnathan doesn't seem to be much of an intimidation when weighing in around 150lbs but it isn't his body structure that is intimidating. It is his blackish eyes, greyish skin and eerie lifeless smile that rests on his face most of the time. His haircut slightly matches that of Devan's with the exception of the higher and tighter shave towards the top, allowing the middle part lay long and low, flowing slightly over one eye or the other, depending on his posture. Sexuality: Bisexual Weapon(s): 2x Boot Knives 2x knuckle dusters 1x Ring knife Main Power: Blood Manipulation (Hematokenesis): For John, Blood manipulation allows him to manipulate the blood that runs through his system in an external method such as the creation of blades, shields, spears and in an internal method by increasing the density of his blood to create a slightly stronger epidermis. However, he is only limited to how much blood is in his system. Sub Power: Blood Pressure Manipulation: As a by-product of being able to control his own blood, he has gained the ability to increase its pressure, allowing him access to enhanced speed and strength but not to the degree of others whose main ability is that of super strength or super speed. Personality: He has quite the calm demeanor despite his horrid past. Although, it tends to lean towards the creepier side of things with his slightly monotone yet upbeat voice. He never seems to have a purpose and tends to react on impulse, adding to his slight unpredictability. However, he is always up for a talk on intellect and abstract thinking as he enjoys things like that but in actuality he is slightly deranged so its more thoughts of a madman than anything else. He considers his friends Jayce and Devan as brothers and occasionally Devan as a lover, mostly to just get a negative reaction out of him. He prefers to follow the Fibonacci effect, spiraling out of normalcy in the hopes to find a higher enlightenment through reading and meditation. Training is important to him but he strays away sometimes, opting to watch the sky or something else. His combative side on the other hand is rather cold and ruthless, holding no remorse or regret behind every action as he sees every action as something inevitable, Something that was to come but only time was the key to when. Finally, should one ever truly rile him up on the battlefield, he does hold a sort of psychotic bloodlust that sends him into a frenzy, earning him the moniker amongst his friends, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. The adrenaline, the rapid heartbeat and the physical pain that accompanies battle makes him feel alive once more. History: All that is known about him is that Devan and himself were friends when they were younger living in Iowa. It wasn't until later in John's life when certain events began to happen did he break away from their ties and fell off the grid, only to return in handcuffs with cameras on him years later. In the span of 7 years he had killed 39 people, all associated with child molestation, kidnapping and murder. Devan and him have regained their bonds with each other and in the process a third companion who had recently joined them since the appearance of the Voodoo Man. Possibly one of the more dangerous individuals of the group, he had been on death row for some time before he was expunged of his crimes due to the Governments need for him. Although, he doesn't deny what he did, simply opting to refuse to answer. His backstory is of darkness, tragedy and anger, abuse and violence that he wishes to never relive but he does, with each kill, with each heartbeat. After the recent attacks from the Voodoo Man and an encounter with one of them with the shadow of death looming over him, he feels alive again so this is why he went along with the Government's project. If one is lucky to get to get close to him, one may actually learn of his backstory and what made him the way he was. Other: My mind tends to drift sometime into the vast space of my psyche... APPROVED VIA PMs Real Name: Devan Levi Marshall Nickname(s): Devvy-boo, Dev, Levi, Motherfucker, Asshole Hero Name: Buzz Gender: Male Age: 24 Appearance: Barely standing at 5'8" and 120lbs, this little guy adorns lazy sunken eyes and weary look, mostly thanks to morons one and two (John and Jayce). John's haircut is styled after Devan's but the difference being that Devan's hair (faded along the sides leaving longer hair up top) is much better kempt than his friend John's. His casual wear includes a greenish sports jacket, red shirt, tan cargo pants and green shoes. However, when on a job he wears his tactical gear. Sexuality: Straight Weapon(s): 2x Ninjato 2x Daggers Main Power: Super speed: His muscular system is a bit different than others, being very lean yet dense, allowing his body to move and react quicker than most and run incredible speeds. He has only once ever broken the sound barrier but has yet to do it again. However, due to this he now knows what he is capable of, but at a cost. To understand what this means, one must look once again at his genetic makeup. His heart beats at a normal rate, twice as fast as a normal human's would, but when exerting any form of physical stress it triples or quadruples in speed in order to keep up with the need for oxygen in the body and for his systems. However, despite having a body lean and made for this high speed maneuvering, his internal organs are only slightly enhanced to keep up with him so he ahs a higher chance of having a heart attack should he exceed too much force on his body, having come close to one when he did break the sound barrier. Sub Power: Adrenal Activation: In conjunction with his natural super speed, his body excretes extremely high doses of adrenaline from his adrenal glands, allowing him to see and react normally in the high speed maneuvering. It can be seen in his eyes as he cans a second, third and forth pupil, all registering what is happening like a high speed camera. Personality: Devan is (usually) the level headed one of the three and can be seen in his actions and mannerisms when talking to the other two. He is the leader of their group and it is apparent when he has to discipline the two. Devan isn't a very talkative individual, tending to give short answers or looks accompanied by shrugs, rolls of the eyes or simply walking away. However, he always on his toes, ready for what is to come History: Devan is aware of the Judicial system as he has been in and out of jail many times thanks to his violent past starting with a B&E in some yuppie's house. it had grown from there into pickpocketing, theft and arson though his arson consisted of mostly small fires in public parks. Funny enough his first arson charge wasn't even meant to be out of any negative emotion but rather to help out some homeless person stay warm. When his childhood friend John disappeared of the face of the world, he worried about his safety and had for some time. That was until he saw him on the news, handcuffed with the title, The Phantom Killer has been Caught. After finding out where he was staying, he made sure to visit him and when he did he slowly began to learn about his past and how messed up it had been, answering his questions about why he disappeared. The rekindling of their friendship would grow even more when they had released him after Voodoo Man's arrival. John had been given a chance to make amends by taking this villain out and if so would have his sentence expunged. As of now Devan is not only a brother to John, but a handler in a sense by the government. Other: Accepted Via PM Real Name: Jayce Pearsons Nickname(s): Noodles, King of the Tentacle Hentai, Jayce, Jay-Bird, Asshat Hero Name: Krakken Gender: Whatever he's in the fucking mood for (literally) Age: 25 Appearance: Jayce (usually) stands at around 6'3" and 250lbs making him the bulkier of the three. Thanks to his mutation, he technically doesn't wear clothing but rather creates it from his own body. Sexuality: Yes Weapon(s): None Main Power: Biokenesis: Jayce has mastery over his own biomass, capable of manipulating and creating it to whatever he needs whether it is for offensive, defensive, support or utility reasons. He is able to weaponize himself in order to defend his life. Capable of making melee weapons, shields, armor and other varied utilities, he can be a nuisance on the battlefield should one come across him. Long periods of time using his abilities will drain him. High doses of electricity can shut him down. Sub Power: Because of his mastery over his body, he has also gained as a byproduct increased physical attributes. Personality: Short-tempered, arrogant, loyal, trustworthy History: Jayce for the most part comes from a wealthy family that is somewhat dysfunctional as consistent fighting amongst the parents due to his very unique mutation that had in turn caused him to lash out in public, inevitably getting police involved in many incidents and the media plastering stories over the internet and news. This had gone on for some time until the appearance of the Voodoo Man and his minions were he had wished he had a closer relationship with his family. The Voodoo Man had taken his family and he has yet to hear from them. As being directly affected by the Voodoo Man, the government had asked for him to assist them, considering that his mutation is a bit of a dangerous one but knew of two others that he could get along well with. Soon after meeting up with Devan and John, the connection between the three grew. He hopes he can find out any information pertaining to his family and their disappearance. Other: Approval via PM

Maxwell Weiseman Phaseur Interactions: Lentement, de plus en plus d'étranges personnes sont arrivées. L'un avec des boulons dans la tête, l'autre habillé comme un serpent, tant de choses qui remplissaient Max d'anxiété. Il pouvait sentir sa poitrine se serrer, se sentir claustrophobe. Oh, comme il détestait les foules!! Et pour empirer, ces gens n'étaient pas seulement des joes de tous les jours comme lui. Il commencerait à hyperventiler bientôt... Déjà une épave nerveuse, il n'était pas surprenant que quand il sentit quelque chose de froid sur son cou qu'il faillit tomber de sa chaise en criant comme une petite fille. Heureusement, le cri était étouffé de sorte que le seul bruit qui le laissait audiblement était un peu comme une souris. Max s'est retourné dans sa chaise pour faire face à la personne derrière lui, tremblant comme une feuille. L'interaction sociale?! Wahhhh, c'était son pire cauchemar!! Qu'est-ce que ce gamin voulait de lui, ne pouvait-il pas parler à une autre personne non-socialement-retardée?Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? Mais, voyant son jeune aspect et son uniforme d'école, Max visiblement desserré. Un autre étudiant comme lui? Et il semblait assez normal aussi... Max, comme mentionné précédemment comme une personne socialement inepte, vient de regarder à blanc Richard avec la plus grande embarrassance jusqu'à ce qu'il réalise sa propre erreur. Les Cheeks enflammés d'un rouge qui se distinguait clairement sur sa peau pâle, Max brouillait et déviait rapidement ses yeux, essayant de penser à la façon dont une personne régulière interagit avec une autre. "Um, je, oh um... Bonjour." Il parlait tranquillement, il regardait seulement plus mal à l'aise de sa réaction stupide. Pas étonnant qu'il n'ait pas d'amis... Max regarda timidement à travers ses lunettes les autres qui semblaient parler entre eux de l'emplacement du maire, ainsi que d'autres choses, mais c'était la seule chose qui l'intéressait. Il aimerait se connaître, donc il n'aurait pas à rester ici plus longtemps. Il allait diriger son attention vers l'autre écolier jusqu'à ce qu'un homme très... agressif s'en aille. Max a frémi, regardant ses mouvements vifs et presque violents. Il fixa rapidement ses mains repliées, se sentant une fois de plus mal à l'aise. Violet Riise Vixen de flamme Interactions: La femme aux cheveux ondulés lui a tiré les yeux pour regarder une pom-pom girl qui a été la première à lui parler. "Eh? Quel équipement? Mes vêtements?" Elle a cueilli à la sangle de son haut de bikini avec un front coiffé, essayant de se regarder vers le bas curieusement. "Ce n'est pas de l'équipement, hun. Je m'habille comme ça." Violet a déclaré, purchant ses lèvres peintes sur la fille alors qu'elle se penchait vers l'avant sur le bureau. Mais elle a été coupée comme un gars a murmuré quelque chose à propos d'emprunter un stylo du bureau. Violet clignait à Lei, complètement perdu quant à la raison pour laquelle il lui demandait de toutes les personnes. "Prends tout ce foutu bureau pour tout ce que je m'en soucie. Je ne travaille pas ici, mec." Elle s'est reposée le menton dans la main, le coude appuyé sur le genou. Uch, ça devenait ennuyeux. Où est le maire?Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? Devenant anesthésiant, Violet descendit du bureau alors qu'un ours en peluche sentient marchait son chemin de façon assez décontractée. Elle a vu plus bizarre. À sa question, comme elle l'avait demandé, elle s'est contentée d'une réponse. Mais, alors quelqu'un a dit quelque chose qui a attiré son attention. "Fortune? Quoi, t'es un gitan ou une merde? D'accord, frappe-moi, je prends tout gratuitement." Comme pour affirmer sa décision, Violet a balancé une chaise et s'est assise à l'envers dessus, en se penchant les bras au-dessus du dos et en plisant la tête sur ses poignets. "Tu as besoin de ma main? Est-ce que je choisis une carte, n'importe quelle carte?" Elle a demandé paresseusement. Ses yeux magenta roulaient critiquement à la paire forte de mâles qui étaient les plus récents à entrer dans la pièce. Au début, elle a essayé de les ignorer, mais, soyons honnêtes, son fusible était bien trop court pour cela. "Oh! Y aurait-il deux personnes d'amour qui m'ont fait marcher pour que je puisse avoir ma fortune?! Va t'en sortir avec chacun d'autres, juste le bonjour!" Elle a appelé, son chewing-gum claque à chaque fois que sa bouche ferme pour parler. Ça pourrait mal finir...

Real Name: Violet Riise Nickname(s): Vivi, Leader, Psycho, Flamehead Hero Name: Flame Vixen Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: female Age: 21 Appearance: Standing at 5'4", Violet is short to match her short temper. Even though she has a very pretty heart shaped face with large magenta cat-like eyes, a small nose, thin brows and light pink-beige small lips, it can easily become terrifying when those big eyes light up in full-fledged fire. Violet is pale and is a fairly average weight, but can become very aggressive if you mention her round rump or thick thighs. She has long, wavy white hair that is dyed, her natural hair color being brown. She often wears skimpy clothes with a white flame on them, considering it her symbol. Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): Two switchblades strapped to her thighs and a shotgun. Main Power: Pyrokinesis. Can manipulate fire and create it out of thin air using only her mind. When truly furious goes into "Rage Inferno" where her whole body is covered in flames. Sub Power: None. Personality: Violet is a very unstable person. Considered bipolar, she can be very friendly and personable at one moment and the next be ready to rip you to shreds. She leans towards physical violence in order to get her way, and if she doesn't she will flip the fuck out. Violet is a very self centered person, but if you manage to get on her good side, she will swear by her life to protect you. Like with her gang, she might be rough with you still but it is with love, and she will treat you like family. Get on her bad side though... well, let's just say you'll regret it. History: Violet was raised by her mother, her parents being divorced and her father running off with another woman. Believe it or not, Violet was actually a good student up until her Junior year, where the school had a turnover and new teachers came in. She didn't like any of them, and most were real bastards to her, so she slowly faded out of school until eventually she barely ever went. It was also around the time her mother found a new boyfriend. Instead of going to school, Violet found another place to put her time and energy. A few years ago, downtown Metropolis was overrun with gangs that were constantly at war with one another. Most couldn't even walk down the street without a weapon. Sick of this, Violet started her own gang to set things straight, naming it "Devilspawn." Originally it was just a group of stupid high schoolers that acted as vigilantes and beat back gangs that got a little too aggressive, but as a few years passed and the gang grew so did another gang. The competing gang started a fight with Devilspawn, and when they went straight for Violet, she lit them up not with a gun but with real fire. She discovered that she was a mutant, with the power to manipulate and create fire from her own mind. The others became afraid of Violet and her gang, leaving Metropolis all together. The gang now is used as a sort of, violent neighborhood watch. Things were running smoothly, until one night all the gangs that had turned tail and fled came back— but with the force of the Voodoo Man. They took out many of the Devils, and this infuriated Violet, because they were like family to her. She swore revenge on the Voodoo Man for causing her 'family' such pain, and now searches him out to give him what he deserves! Other: Is the leader and founder of the largest gang in Metropolis, "Devilspawn." Their symbol. Real Name: Maxwell Weiseman Nickname(s): Max Hero Name: Phaser Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: male Age: 17 Appearance: Max is a tall but thin boy, with little to no muscle mass at all and his height a little above 6'5". He has shaggy, somewhat outgrown black hair that falls over his matching black eyes that are always hidden behind thick lenses on a studious pair of black glass frames. He always has a somewhat sad look on his face, with a sharp chin and soft bone structure, thin lips and straight brows. Max is a little sensitive about his longer nose, as well as his pale complexion that always seems to lack proper blood flow. He always wears clothes that are a bit too big on him and seem baggy, most often seen in his school uniform. If you asked people what his best physical feature was, they most likely would say he has a "cute ass." Sexuality: demisexual Weapon(s): Metal-toed boots and metal knuckles Main Power: Teleportation. Can travel at maximum a few blocks away, and as far as consecutive teleportations, the further away he has to teleport one after another the harder it is. Just in fights, teleporting within a few feet he is able to do it much more easily. Overdoing it could make him pass out. Sub Power: By extending his palm out flat or using the top of his forearm to create a shield of plasma. It can only last for a few hits each, and can immediately shatter if it's hit with a full blast of another's power. He can only create one in the span of a couple of hours, and it is only about 1 and a half feet at maximum for length and width. Physical attacks don't do much damage to it. Personality: Max is a very quiet soul. He's fairly shy and soft spoken, often preferring to be alone than amongst others. He is often trampled on because of his passivity but Max never complains about it. He is respectful and kind, and will help others as long as he doesn't have to interact with them. History: Max has been second place his entire life. Always a straight B student, the second child, the silver trophy winner in everything he attempted— he never could win first place. His mother and father were devoted to his older brother and completely bypassed little Max, never recognizing his second rate achievements. He really lived a normal life however. A devoted student, though a bit shy and shut away from anything social, he really tried and never complained about anything. Max simply kept to himself, head down. And just like any teen, he had love interests. Max had a crush on this girl named Amber for two years of school, but never attempted to talk to her. Walking home from school one day, Amber was looking at her phone and walked out in front of a bus that was driving too fast down the road. Max, without thinking, ran out and grabbed her. But, suddenly, they were on the other side of the road. Passerby were shocked, whispering to each other about the weird teleporting mutant. Amber was scared of him, even though he had saved her, and ran away to avoid him completely at school. Max was heartbroken. But he didn't complain. He later found out that those who had whispered around them at the corner were not normal passerby. They were puppets of the Voodoo Man, seeking to torment the innocent mutant. Max wasn't angry, but he was upset. He wanted to defeat the Voodoo Man, not for himself, but so no one else can be hurt like he was. Other: Cannot see more than two feet in front of him without his glasses. Senior in high school. Has fairly bad social anxiety.

Après Sara a calculé le volume optimal pour que la salle parle au-dessus de tout le monde. Sye se leva et monta le volume sur sa voix. Mon nom est Sara Mastertorn. Si la seule raison pour laquelle vous êtes ici est parce que vous êtes un chasseur de primes et si le maire n'est pas disposé à distribuer assez d'argent. Maître Mastertorn est prêt à faire face à n'importe quel prix raisonnable. Si par hasard vous ne survivez pas, l'argent ira à votre famille ou à un organisme de bienfaisance en votre nom. » Sara parler est cette couleur Veronica parler est cette couleur

Real Name: Thomas Mastertorn Nickname(s): Robot God “Hero” Name: Roboto Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: Female Age: 35 Appearance: Sara Mastertorn, how Thomas interacts with the rest of the world Veronica Mastertorn, Thomas’ attack robot Sexuality: Heterosexual Weapon(s): Custom laser rifle system, it can be two pistols, rifle, or sniper rifle Last resort weapon: self destruct Custom sword Main Power: Genius Intellect Sub Power: Mechanical genius Personality: Eccentric & reclusive History: Thomas was paralyzed as a young boy. As a preteen his intellect ballooned to immeasurable levels. He built his first autonomous robot at seventeen. When he was twenty he opened a company building and selling his autonomous robots. By the time he was twenty-two he was a billionaire. He built Sara Mastertorn to act as his body out in the world, no one else is allowed to buy a copy of the model. When asked why he didn’t build a male one. His only response was “Female duh!” The question was in his opinion was extremely stupid, the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. He built models to work as receptionists, retail, military, police, any and every industry he built a model for and all female. Veronica Mastertorn is exclusive to his personal use and a unique model no one else can buy. Other:

Lei Zhang Slitherman Lei a fait de son mieux pour séparer la cacophonie des voix fortes qui inondaient bientôt la pièce. Il pensait avoir entendu un mélange d'argot de fille de la vallée, propose d'avoir des fortunes lues, en colère criant, et... des citations de films de culture populaire? L'homme à capuche a arqué un sourcil alors qu'il regardait de son paquet de papiers pour avoir un meilleur regard sur tout le monde là-bas. C'était certainement une variété unique de formes et de visages, y compris ce qui semblait être un ours en peluche sensible parlant. Soupirant alors qu'il remplissait ce qui restait des formes, il a été forcé de reconnaître que, à moins que l'ours ne soit un nain dans une tenue de mascotte, Lei était l'une des seules personnes là-bas qui avait fait une tentative de porter un costume masqué. Même si ce n'était pas la fin du monde, cela l'a rendu extrêmement stupide. Il a supposé que les combattants du crime ne se souciaient plus trop de cacher leur identité. Après que la femme au moins habillée sur le bureau l'a clairement informé que ses suppositions sur son statut d'employé étaient loin d'être, il a donné une légère punaise alors qu'il se dirigeait vers l'homme bizarre regardant avec les boulons dans sa tête. Bien que ses maniérismes étaient un peu excentriques, il était aussi l'un des rares dans la pièce qui semblait avoir fini de remplir leur paquet aussi bien. S'adressant à la femme à qui il avait parlé plus tôt, qui hurlait apparemment pour que deux personnes ferment affectueusement les lèvres, puis à une autre personne qui semblait pouvoir porter sa voix clairement dans toute la pièce malgré le nombre de personnes qui parlaient déjà, Lei mit alors ses mains dans ses poches alors qu'il se tournait vers l'homme à côté duquel il se tenait. "Ne vous amusez-vous pas?" Il a fait remarquer, dans une tentative de communiquer à un niveau similaire.

Neo Priya ☻Nickname(s): Neoteki ☻Villain Name: Fever ☻Hero or Villain?: Villain ☻Gender: Male ☻Age: 21 ☻Sexuality: A-Sexual ☻Appearance: ☻Weapon(s): A simple glock gun. ☻Main Power: Neo has the ability to control fire, or water. He can never control both simultaneously, and only has about a good 10 minutes max for each element before he needs to rest. That is, if he distributes the power equally. If he uses too much ice, then he can only use some fire before having to rest. Neo is not limited to using more power than what 10 minutes gives him, but it does come costly as his eyes play a major role. Depending on which eye he has open decides which element he is going to use, and when he has both eyes open his power can't be used. Not only that, but if he uses more power than what he can use in 10 minutes his eyesight gets worse. ☻Sub Power: Neo has a light voltage on his skin that activates itself when his body goes into overdrive, and starts flooding it with adrenaline. This is either due to fear, or when he is ready to fight so be careful if a prank is going to involve scaring Neo because he can't turn it off unless he calms down either. ☻Personality: Neo is an easily annoyed type of person who has zero tolerance for spicy things. However, he does like to stack up on snacks, and likes to cause mischief when he's bored. He's the kind of person who will skip in front of everyone if he doesn't feel like waiting, but will help an elderly lady cross the street. He knows how to work with others, but doesn't ever fully trust someone. To add the cherry on top Neo tends to be a sort of a flirt, but never seems to want an relationship as he feels that there's no need for it. He's the kind of person who will act before thinking, and wing it. If someone gives him direct orders that presses his buttons, but he does like it when someone follows his orders. During the daytime he wears glasses, but at night he takes them off. Last, but not least Neo likes to lie therefore he is a compulsive liar. ☻History: Neo's mother and father were a super hero pair like no other. One had the intellectual ability to fabricate weapons from their surroundings, and the other had the ability to remember anything. His mother remembered all types of fighting styles, and his father knew how to create guns from grass, and water. It was an interesting childhood to say the least, and a happy one. He was actually the younger one as he had an older brother. His brother was a unique person to say the least due to him having 2 super powers that Neo was not allowed to know. Their parents had trained him to become a great super hero, but he however had not been blessed with gifts. Unlike his brother who attended a special set of schools for the "extra" talented Neo went to a normal school with normal friends. He would go home, and do normal homework a 3rd grader would do. His life had changed when he not only discovered what his brothers talents were, but also who he was using them on. When he had discovered them it had been too late, and therefore he would be thrown into a predicament that he would have never guessed would have happened. It was a Friday evening, and he had been allowed to spend the night at his friends house for the weekend. As a little kid he was happy, but as he grew older he realized that it was a strange situation has his parents never would have allowed him to stay at someones house that long. Though he went to a normal school, and had normal friends it was not for long. They moved often, and his parents had told him the last time he wanted to have a sleep over that he wasn't allowed to since they had just moved to a new area. This time however was different. On arriving to his friends house his parents had bought them snacks, ice cream, and a few movies that they could watch. They had spent half of the night having a good time before the kids parents would send them to bed in a pillow-made fort. It was a perfect sleepover. That is, until an intruder had broken into the house. If not for the loud thud that had occurred on the first floor Neo would not have woken up. He was curious to see what was going on as there were a few more thud noises. It was as if the kids parents were play-fighting in the living room like his parents had always done. All fair in game as they would laugh, joke, and in the end do a kiss that he always said "ew" to. He soon realized that the thuds were not play fighting, and that his brothers powers was not only stealing their powers, but by doing to he took their lives as well. He saw it right before his own eyes. As Neo began to slowly go up the steps in horror his friend had woken up and asked what he was doing awake. His brother reacted to the voice, and caught them before they could even run a few feet. In the end the boy, and him were taken by an "organization" that his brother had a major role in. Turns out that the trips his brother would often take were missions from this organization, and he was to take as many powers as he could and distribute them to children of super heroes whom had none. They were the only children that could withstand the powers force. There, he went through torture, manipulation, conditioning, and battling other villains in training. There, he would damage his eyes, and as a gift for making it as far as he did with the little eyesight he had left he was granted his dual powers. By his brother of course since he not only could take powers, but also put them in some other host. Later, he would realize that his own brother had killed his parents. It wasn't even a secret among the others in the organization, but because the trainee's were in a different facility they didn't know much of what was going on even outside the gates. Neo planned carefully, and in the end killed his brother whom was nearing death. It turned out that taking powers meant that his own life was shortened each time he used his own powers. His life had changed not for the better, but in the end for the worst. ☻Reason for Becoming a Villain: He was trained to become one, and figured since there was already blood on his hands there was no going back. His family was dead, and he was given powers that he was not born with by his own brother. Nothing he could do could make him turn away from what he had been through, and what he can't escape from. ☻Other: He likes ramen, and music. ☻Theme Song:

Awwww! Kimberly a filé sur ses talons pour jeter un coup d'œil au trio des amants. Elle a mis ses paumes ensemble et s'est penchée la tête sur ses mains. "Comme c'est précieux!" Mais une question étrange a persisté dans son cerveau. Elle a posé sa main gauche sur sa hanche et a balancé son index, "Mais comme trois glams ont jailli comme l'un pour l'autre? Comme vous trois Mormons ou quelque chose comme ça? Alors Zeekish..." En se penchant sur l'état actuel de la salle et sur les affaires en cours, Kimberly a pris note de quelques gynoïdes qui commencent déjà à offrir de l'argent libre. Une fois de plus, Kimberly a filé sur ses talons et avec un pas de grâce, elle s'est déplacée vers le robot. "Teeheee!" Kimberly s'est ridiculisée alors qu'elle tenait sa main sur son visage pour essayer de masquer d'autres rires. "Teeheehee... Oh. Comme entre nous, lemme vous offre quelques conseils de choix kay. Tu ne commences pas à offrir des piles. Pouvez-vous me parler? Vous ne savez pas si l'investissement est ou non la bombe ou le boiteux. Et la valeur ne vient pas des boiteux. Des caniches! Kimberly Hawkins a déclaré qu'elle s'éloignait de la machine. Maintenant, elle revient à sa tâche actuelle à portée de main; elle mesure l'autre pom-pom girl. Avec son attention sur Violet, Kimberly a balancé son doigt, "Oh mon Dieu, comme je suis totalement sûr que tu ne le fais pas! Comme vous accessoirisez pour des raisons de merde. Un grand sourire apparut sur le visage de Kimberly alors qu'elle continuait, « Sooooo qui est ton petit garçon. Est-il dans cette pièce?"

Real Name: Kimberly Hawkins Nickname(s): Princess, Alpha Bitch, Kimmie, Kim Hero Name: Mongrel Gender: Female Age: 19 Appearance: Sexuality: Cute and/or Handsome Individuals Weapon(s): Carries Pepper-spray Main Power: Werewolf Form - Willingly or (usually the case) unwillingly Kimberly transforms into a bestial werewolf with vicious and brutish strength with which she can tear through metal, chew through bone, long leaps towards prey, alongside other such feats of might. Sub Power: Monstrous Mind - The mind of a Werewolf Mutant is an easy yet complicated subject, which is very devoted. As such it scrambles any attempts of telepathy to read or influence. Personality: Kimberly is quite simply put a narcissist. She is incredibly vain in regards to her appearance and status among others. Often she acts with perky and ditzy front in an attempt to gain sympathy, attention and good thoughts among peers. But this belies the impishness of her character, as she has few qualms about using people and then stabbing them in the back. While she is mostly in things for herself and could care less about others, she does seem to genuinely care about whoever is part of her cheerleading squad at the time. But that could likely be chalked up to that however they look will rub off on her. As the Mongrel her behavior is much more simplistic. While Kimberly could possibly keep the instincts in check, this hardly ever happens. Mongrel is driven by the primary goals of conquering threats and hunting prey to feast. These two desires are gone after through fairly simplistic means of asserting their strength to accomplish the single-minded goals the Mongrel has at heart. If clearly outmatched, Mongrel will take the flight option of 'Fight v Flight' History: Kimberly Hawkins was born in the lap of luxury near the beaches of Cali. Her father was a ruthless venture capitalist, and her mother was a no nonsense corporate lawyer. Truly Kimberly was born in a family that were excellent at demonstrating empathy. For the most part Kimberly was a latch-key kid who was free to do all sorts of things. With this time, Kimberly Hawkins plotted and schemed the way for her to become the absolute top of the social hierarchy as the family funds were not enough. That's when she knew she needed to become a cheerleader, the Captain above all the others. She spent countless hours training, learning routines and dedicating her body to be prepared for the craft. She breezed through tryouts with her skills alongside sabotaging any who could provide a decent competition for her destined spot as the Captain. Kimberly then proceeded to dominate her social circles and rule with an iron fist. But such acts of politicking were not enough to lead us to where she is today. For that we must learn about how she came into contact with the Voodoo Man's insidious ways, and how the Mongrel came to be. That time came again where Kimberly needed to show why she needed to be the Captain of the squad. However through horrible and most sinister machinations, Kimberly was outperformed by a new girl who just moved into town, clearly by orders of the Voodoo Man in order to ruin the sanctity of this organization and destroy their chances to win at the out of state competition. The coach insisted that Kimberly could still be Vice Captain. She snapped and transformed into the Werewolf known as Mongrel and caused a ruckus. She couldn't show her face there again or be a part of the squad, let alone lead it. Leaving in shame, Kimberly Hawkins swore vengeance against the Voodoo Man and all of his minions. Luckily her quest would not just remain the angry complaints of a teenager for she was found by the group of Generation X who were after the same goal. But of course their goal was not as important because they weren't Kimberly; still she'll take what she can get. Other: Generation X! Generation X! Let's go fight! Show our might!

Ted Si Teddy Bears avait des veines comme un humain normal, alors Ted aurait eu beaucoup d'ennuis. La référence d'Elijah à eux film Ted était l'une des choses qu'il détestait puisque tant de gens ont fait référence à ce film ridicule fait par Seth Macfarlane. Une des dernières choses qu'il voulait c'était d'être dans une équipe avec des gens qui ont constamment référencé ce film. "Oh, c'est bien. C'est vraiment drôle" Ted a répondu avec sa voix rempli de sarcasme et a roulé ses yeux, ou du moins près de cela comme il pouvait être un ours en peluche et tout. Plus de gens ont commencé à se remplir dans la pièce et comme prévu, il semblait dessiner leurs regards. "Quoi? Aucun d'entre vous n'a jamais été un ours en peluche auparavant?" Il a dit à voix haute après quelques regards de plus. Ted était reconnaissant que personne n'ait essayé de le câliner, ce serait la chose la plus ennuyeuse qu'une personne puisse lui faire sans violence. Peu de temps après qu'un trio soit venu dans la pièce faire un ruckus et il était sur le point d'avoir quelques mots en colère avec ces punks quand il a battu à elle par la fille à peine habillée. Peu de temps après, un autre groupe a proposé de payer pour son temps et son travail si le maire n'a pas assez retourné la facture. "Je peux déjà que ce soit une entreprise idiote" a-t-il dit en secouant la tête.

Real Name: Ted Nickname(s): Fuzzy Terror Hero Name: Bear Commando Gender: male Age: 18 Appearance: Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): he wields a combat knife and AK-47 Main Power: Transmutation: Ted can alter his body's physical structure to mimic many substances and elements. He can make his skin hard like rock as well as make the fur on his body surge with electricity. Ted can only have his body mimic one element or substance at a time and shifting from one to the next too quickly can tire him out. When he mimics heavy substances then he is unable to stop himself from sinking in liquid environments and when his body is made up of light elements then he is more vulnerable to severe damage thanks to lack of density. While mimicking lighter substances Ted is able to jump great distances and sometimes even float through the air with the help of air currents. Sub Power: Teddy Bear mimicry: His body is in the form of a teddy bear. This power is always active and the effect is permanent. Personality: Ted is very straight forward and always prefers a directly solution to a problem instead of complex and manipulative means. He is quick to anger and has a very crude sense of humor. His views on good and evil are based upon the actions of those he sees and whether he feels that what they did is wrong. He is not someone who uses a doctrine or ideology to shape his morality. Even though people describe him as a pessimist and a skeptic, Ted prefers to consider himself a realist. Politically he considers himself a social libertarian and a constitutionalist. He believes that freedom and the constitution should always come first over security unless a threat poses a great danger to his culture such as fascists ideologies. He is a huge supporter of the first and second amendment. He can't stand thought policing and believes that a person has a right to express whatever they want without fear. His humor is politically incorrect and believes that facts don't about a person's feelings. He also despises socialism and communism. For him democratic capitalism is the end all be all of economics. Despite his crude humor and hardcore attitude, Ted is smart enough to make good financial choices and live a decent middle class life. Finally he is very loyal to his allies and friends, but he will always remember a person who tricked him into agreeing something he doesn't like. He is not very forgiving of those who have double crossed him History: Ted was born as a normal human and lived a normal life. He did good in school and had friends and a loving family. But all that changed when his mutant powers activated while he was in high school. His body changed from that of a human to a teddy bear. This new change was the greatest shock of his life and his parents decided to take him out of school and home school him from then on. He explored his powers and realized that he had access to incredible powers. With these new powers Ted decided that he would become a hero and fight for his kind of justice. He took on the name Bear Commando and started off his hero career. Everything was good until Ted had a run in with the Voodoo Man and his super-powered goons. With his terrible powers he was able to harm people that Ted cared about. From then on Ted swore to take down Voodoo Man and his group of villains. He was approached by a group called Generation X and offered a spot on the team. Even though he didn't really like the thought of being on a team, Ted knew that he would need help to take down the Voodoo Man. Other:

Richard Scott Richard a agité sa main à l'accueil de Maxwell, bonne chose qu'il ne l'avait pas ignoré comme certains timides l'ont fait. Notant comment Maxwell a réagi à l'homme qui semblait seulement parler en citations et avait un visage seulement pinhead aimerait, il pensait à lui-même que cela commençait à ressembler à une réunion méchante que d'une réunion de recrutement de héros. Enfer quelqu'un offrait déjà de l'argent en échange de ses services, donnant aux gens la lecture gratuite du tarot et quelqu'un pressait les gens de se faire connaître. De retour à Maxwell, il a rappelé à Richard ses premières années, il tenterait probablement d'avoir une courte conversation avec lui et de revenir à sa place et de ne parler à personne pendant la durée de la réunion. En tant que futur héros de la justice, il ne pouvait pas laisser une telle personne seule, donc il a décidé de l'aider à guérir sa timidité avec la façon dont il a guéri la sienne. Vous savez que j'étais une personne timide comme vous il y a longtemps. Richard a dit qu'il mettait ses papiers de côté et a commencé à chercher quelque chose sur son sac à dos.J'ai été intimidé car je n'avais pas d'amis à l'école et personne ne voulait m'aider avec elle, alors j'ai dû le faire moi-même. Richard a continué à parler alors qu'il sortait sa ceinture de son sac et l'a rapidement mis. Lorsque vous avez un problème, la seule façon de le poser définitivement est de l'affronter directement et de le battre jusqu'à ce que ce ne soit plus un problème. Richard a appuyé sur le bouton de la ceinture et a été couvert d'une aura de lumière verte pendant quelques secondes avant que la lumière ne soit considérée et a révélé l'armure de kickhopper. Richard n'a pas perdu de temps et s'est emparé de Maxwell par ses épaules, et l'a soulevé avec un peu d'effort.Je ne suis pas désolé de ce que je vais faire, alors accrochez-vous et préparez-vous à battre vos peurs et problèmes jusqu'à ce qu'ils ne bougent plus. Il a donc mis ses yeux dans les trois hommes qui sont entrés il y a quelques instants et qui ont été pressés de se faire, a fait un simple globe oculaire pour savoir où viser et avec combien de force, a crié "HEY VOUS TROIS INSTEAD DE FAIRE OUT, CACHEZ CE, à eux et jeté Maxwell dans leur direction générale.

Real Name: Violet Riise Nickname(s): Vivi, Leader, Psycho, Flamehead Hero Name: Flame Vixen Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: female Age: 21 Appearance: Standing at 5'4", Violet is short to match her short temper. Even though she has a very pretty heart shaped face with large magenta cat-like eyes, a small nose, thin brows and light pink-beige small lips, it can easily become terrifying when those big eyes light up in full-fledged fire. Violet is pale and is a fairly average weight, but can become very aggressive if you mention her round rump or thick thighs. She has long, wavy white hair that is dyed, her natural hair color being brown. She often wears skimpy clothes with a white flame on them, considering it her symbol. Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): Two switchblades strapped to her thighs and a shotgun. Main Power: Pyrokinesis. Can manipulate fire and create it out of thin air using only her mind. When truly furious goes into "Rage Inferno" where her whole body is covered in flames. Sub Power: None. Personality: Violet is a very unstable person. Considered bipolar, she can be very friendly and personable at one moment and the next be ready to rip you to shreds. She leans towards physical violence in order to get her way, and if she doesn't she will flip the fuck out. Violet is a very self centered person, but if you manage to get on her good side, she will swear by her life to protect you. Like with her gang, she might be rough with you still but it is with love, and she will treat you like family. Get on her bad side though... well, let's just say you'll regret it. History: Violet was raised by her mother, her parents being divorced and her father running off with another woman. Believe it or not, Violet was actually a good student up until her Junior year, where the school had a turnover and new teachers came in. She didn't like any of them, and most were real bastards to her, so she slowly faded out of school until eventually she barely ever went. It was also around the time her mother found a new boyfriend. Instead of going to school, Violet found another place to put her time and energy. A few years ago, downtown Metropolis was overrun with gangs that were constantly at war with one another. Most couldn't even walk down the street without a weapon. Sick of this, Violet started her own gang to set things straight, naming it "Devilspawn." Originally it was just a group of stupid high schoolers that acted as vigilantes and beat back gangs that got a little too aggressive, but as a few years passed and the gang grew so did another gang. The competing gang started a fight with Devilspawn, and when they went straight for Violet, she lit them up not with a gun but with real fire. She discovered that she was a mutant, with the power to manipulate and create fire from her own mind. The others became afraid of Violet and her gang, leaving Metropolis all together. The gang now is used as a sort of, violent neighborhood watch. Things were running smoothly, until one night all the gangs that had turned tail and fled came back— but with the force of the Voodoo Man. They took out many of the Devils, and this infuriated Violet, because they were like family to her. She swore revenge on the Voodoo Man for causing her 'family' such pain, and now searches him out to give him what he deserves! Other: Is the leader and founder of the largest gang in Metropolis, "Devilspawn." Their symbol. Real Name: Maxwell Weiseman Nickname(s): Max Hero Name: Phaser Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: male Age: 17 Appearance: Max is a tall but thin boy, with little to no muscle mass at all and his height a little above 6'5". He has shaggy, somewhat outgrown black hair that falls over his matching black eyes that are always hidden behind thick lenses on a studious pair of black glass frames. He always has a somewhat sad look on his face, with a sharp chin and soft bone structure, thin lips and straight brows. Max is a little sensitive about his longer nose, as well as his pale complexion that always seems to lack proper blood flow. He always wears clothes that are a bit too big on him and seem baggy, most often seen in his school uniform. If you asked people what his best physical feature was, they most likely would say he has a "cute ass." Sexuality: demisexual Weapon(s): Metal-toed boots and metal knuckles Main Power: Teleportation. Can travel at maximum a few blocks away, and as far as consecutive teleportations, the further away he has to teleport one after another the harder it is. Just in fights, teleporting within a few feet he is able to do it much more easily. Overdoing it could make him pass out. Sub Power: By extending his palm out flat or using the top of his forearm to create a shield of plasma. It can only last for a few hits each, and can immediately shatter if it's hit with a full blast of another's power. He can only create one in the span of a couple of hours, and it is only about 1 and a half feet at maximum for length and width. Physical attacks don't do much damage to it. Personality: Max is a very quiet soul. He's fairly shy and soft spoken, often preferring to be alone than amongst others. He is often trampled on because of his passivity but Max never complains about it. He is respectful and kind, and will help others as long as he doesn't have to interact with them. History: Max has been second place his entire life. Always a straight B student, the second child, the silver trophy winner in everything he attempted— he never could win first place. His mother and father were devoted to his older brother and completely bypassed little Max, never recognizing his second rate achievements. He really lived a normal life however. A devoted student, though a bit shy and shut away from anything social, he really tried and never complained about anything. Max simply kept to himself, head down. And just like any teen, he had love interests. Max had a crush on this girl named Amber for two years of school, but never attempted to talk to her. Walking home from school one day, Amber was looking at her phone and walked out in front of a bus that was driving too fast down the road. Max, without thinking, ran out and grabbed her. But, suddenly, they were on the other side of the road. Passerby were shocked, whispering to each other about the weird teleporting mutant. Amber was scared of him, even though he had saved her, and ran away to avoid him completely at school. Max was heartbroken. But he didn't complain. He later found out that those who had whispered around them at the corner were not normal passerby. They were puppets of the Voodoo Man, seeking to torment the innocent mutant. Max wasn't angry, but he was upset. He wanted to defeat the Voodoo Man, not for himself, but so no one else can be hurt like he was. Other: Cannot see more than two feet in front of him without his glasses. Senior in high school. Has fairly bad social anxiety.

Ça devait être une erreur. Qu'est-ce qu'ils pensaient? Pourquoi a-t-elle été l'une des destinataires de cette lettre? "Peut-être qu'ils pensent que je suis comme les autres soleils et arcs-en-ciel!" Molly murmura à elle-même, se moquant d'augmenter le ton de sa voix pendant qu'elle parlait. Se tenant devant l'hôtel de ville, elle a fait un visage de pur dégoût. Elle n'était pas comme le reste d'entre eux, et elle n'avait vraiment pas beaucoup d'obligation intérieure de se présenter à cette réunion, du moins jusqu'à ce qu'elle soit informée des liens de cette réunion avec ce que M. Voodoo était prêt à faire. Ça lui a attiré l'intérêt. En entrant dans la pièce, elle a immédiatement mis son casque, harmonisant la personne irritante du bureau qui lui criait déjà dessus. Molly s'est juste secoué la tête et a pointé vers son casque, en écoutant "Slim Shady" pour illustrer à quel point il était important qu'elle n'ait pas à faire face à se faire engueuler par une vieille dame stupide. Son attention a été consacrée à Eminem. Elle a réussi à attraper la réceptionniste la pointe vers un bureau, en plus de murmurer quelque chose sous son souffle qui était probablement offensant. Molly rainurée dans le bureau, complètement sans se soucier du fait qu'elle ne portait qu'un crop top, des shorts serrés et des bottes. Elle s'était convaincue qu'elle faisait une faveur au monde en s'habillant comme elle l'a fait. C'était comme d'habitude. Elle a passé le seuil et est entrée dans la pièce remplie de tous les bon-goody baky-jerks. Naturellement, la plupart d'entre eux criaient l'un contre l'autre ou se trompaient. Pourquoi suis-je encore là? Elle pensait à elle-même. Ils devaient se taire, elle entendait leur Tomfoolery sur sa musique. Enlevant son casque brièvement pour qu'elle puisse s'adresser à eux, elle cria : « Tout le monde se taise! » Elle s'est évanouie quand les mots lui ont échappé la bouche. Si ça ne valait pas la peine de venir ici, elle ferait payer tous ces satanés gens... avec le doux pouvoir de la musique, bébé.

Real Name: Richard Scott Nickname(s): Dick, Scotty, Karate bugman Hero Name: Kickhopper Gender: Male Age: 17 Sexuality: Heterosexual Weapon(s): Steel bat Main Power: While not exactly having powers, Richard instead has a very powerful tool on his position that he “Borrowed” from Doctor Tanas. Insect armor: when pressing the big red button on his belt, a grasshopper themed armor surrounds him. While the armor may not be able to stop most military grade weapons from piercing Richard to shreds it can stop most civilian weapons and melee with only a few dents as the result. The armor also enhances his strength and jumping range, making him able to challenge Olympic athletes strength wise; his jumping height easily reaches 2.5m. Sub Power: CLOCK UP: The all or nothing final attack that kickhopper possesses (even though Richard doesn't know about it yet) by pulling the lever that is between the legs of the grasshopper buckle, the belt will begin emitting electricity that travels all around the armor, eventually concentrating on the right foot, making it capable of seriously burning the things it kicks. It also raises the speed of the wearer to muzzle velocity, which combined with the electrified kick can lead to a deadly surprise attack. Now it's not devoid of downsides: firstly entering clock up is a taxing process for both the user and the belt, most times breaking the transformation after being used and leaving the user exhausted. Lastly to prevent extensive damage to the belt, clock up has an imposed limit of 10 seconds before the effects of clock up turn off. Personality: One may consider Richard to be a naive person, since he assumes most people have good intentions at heart. Richard tends to see things in black and white, with the middle ground not existing and him being on the good side. This combined with his tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, makes it very difficult to change his opinions. On the good things about him, he has a strong sense of “justice” and is adamant about helping people he considers innocent. History: Richard didn't had many friends growing up and was constantly bullied at school for it, at first taunting him about his loneliness then escalating into beatings. Telling the teachers only delayed the inevitable for a few days and his parents were always too busy to hear his problems at school, his solution to his problem would come when he was watching “Power riders” his favorite show on TV. If he couldn't make them stop with words or by calling the authority he would have to teach them the meaning of JUSTICE and PEACE by force. It took a few tries and injuries but Richard was able to teach those bullies the meaning of justice after beating them. Surprisingly it worked quite well, who knew that a bat would be a perfect teaching tool? The bullies would stop pestering him after that, though he would gain a quite infamous reputation. Richard only started to care about it when other students came to him to prove the veracity of his reputation. Some wanted to fight him, others wanted help with their problems and despite him initially wanting nothing to do with their needs and wants, he eventually came to like it, as if he was like the heroes he watched. One day an old man in a lab coat approached him after school, identifying himself as Dr. Tanas he offered a part time job to Richard as a security guard of his laboratory, as some teenaagers were causing trouble in there. Not having anything interesting to do in the evenings and wanting to earn some money on his own he accepted. The laboratory was in the slums of the city, many floors underground of a local pharmacy. He was granted a very strange skin-tight uniform, making Richard think that either the doctor had a strange fetish of he had a horrible sense of fashion. Nothing really happened on his shifts, he spent his time at the job looking at his phone while Dr. Tanas was working on his private room. Other guys were there but everytime he tried to talk them they only responded with “EEEEEE” which apart from the maniac laugh that was heard once in awhile from the Doctor​ where the only sounds in the laboratory. Feeling that he was wasting his time, Richard decided to quit his job. Coming back to the lab at the hour his shift ended to tell Elvid that he was quitting, Richard found the lab in tatters,broken furniture and traces of small fires were present in the laboratory. No traces of the other guys or Dr. Tanas appeared as he aproached the private room of Tanas, where he found three suited guys looking for something on the room. They probably were the teenagers that Dr. Tanas had talked him about, the question was how did they were able to cause this much damage? Giving them a closer look, he noticed their similarity to the protagonists of the power rider series, were they real power riders or just thieves with a cosplay motif? Before he could make any action the men noticed him and began to approach slowly, which Richard took advantage and decided to run as they shouted to him that they were heroes and he didn't need to be scared, which sounded exactly like the thing a bad guy would say. Richard ran through the lab looking for something to beat the crap out of them. Opening the drawers of the small kitchen the lab had, Richard looked for something pointy to defend itself with, instead he found himself with a strange belt with an insect shaped buckle, covered in food stains likely that the Doctor had been working on it while eating. While looking at it, the three men managed to catch up with him, this time keeping their distance. Taking off their wrist braces their suits disappeared in a flash of smoke revealing three men with similar age to him. Still keeping their distance the men explained Richard that they were warriors of justice, tasked by a giant hologram head to defeat Dr. Satan before he used his evil technology to… And that's all that Richard heard before he figured out how to activate the buckle, transform and beat them up before they transformed. Richard didn't know how they expected him to believe some ridiculous story, a doctor named Satan? A giant hologram giving teenagers superpowered armor? but the most damning fact was the lack of a red member of the team of transforming heroes. The lack of any body or evidence could mean that Dr. Tanas escaped though he could only hope for it, feeling pity for him as he was falsely accused of trying to conquer the world just because he had a strange name. Checking in the pockets of the men for something to see if they hadn't taken anything valuable, Richard found instead a letter inviting them to the city hall, to form a group to protect the city from some “Voodoo man”. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place as he finished reading the letter, clearly the voodoo man had brainwashed them to attack the innocent Dr. Tanas. Richard decided to take their place since they were already brainwashed, took their letters and left with the insect belt. Other:

Neo Priya "Fièvre" "Et ils pensent que les méchants sont les fous..." Neo murmura sous sa respiration alors qu'il vit soudain un gars voler à travers les airs, et un autre cria aux autres de se taire comme elle était entrée. C'était un spectacle à voir, et il s'est demandé pourquoi il avait repensé à assister à cette réunion de bons gars. C'était un rire pour le moins, mais il est entré quand même. Comme il s'est rendu compte qui avait jeté le pauvre homme de l'autre côté de la pièce Neo a donné un pouce à ce gars alors qu'il lui criait: "BON CROISSANCE!" Glanking vers Mme Tout le monde tranquille Neo a clin d'oeil, mais a commencé à marcher vers le gars blindé. Un atout est ce qu'il était, et ne pas lui parler était comme perdre intentionnellement un jeu de poisson d'or. Il semblait intimidant, mais qui ne le ferait pas après avoir jeté un gars. "Hé," Neo s'est un peu débarrassé de la gorge. "Peux-tu me jeter aussi? Parce que c'était un sale type."

Neo Priya ☻Nickname(s): Neoteki ☻Villain Name: Fever ☻Hero or Villain?: Villain ☻Gender: Male ☻Age: 21 ☻Sexuality: A-Sexual ☻Appearance: ☻Weapon(s): A simple glock gun. ☻Main Power: Neo has the ability to control fire, or water. He can never control both simultaneously, and only has about a good 10 minutes max for each element before he needs to rest. That is, if he distributes the power equally. If he uses too much ice, then he can only use some fire before having to rest. Neo is not limited to using more power than what 10 minutes gives him, but it does come costly as his eyes play a major role. Depending on which eye he has open decides which element he is going to use, and when he has both eyes open his power can't be used. Not only that, but if he uses more power than what he can use in 10 minutes his eyesight gets worse. ☻Sub Power: Neo has a light voltage on his skin that activates itself when his body goes into overdrive, and starts flooding it with adrenaline. This is either due to fear, or when he is ready to fight so be careful if a prank is going to involve scaring Neo because he can't turn it off unless he calms down either. ☻Personality: Neo is an easily annoyed type of person who has zero tolerance for spicy things. However, he does like to stack up on snacks, and likes to cause mischief when he's bored. He's the kind of person who will skip in front of everyone if he doesn't feel like waiting, but will help an elderly lady cross the street. He knows how to work with others, but doesn't ever fully trust someone. To add the cherry on top Neo tends to be a sort of a flirt, but never seems to want an relationship as he feels that there's no need for it. He's the kind of person who will act before thinking, and wing it. If someone gives him direct orders that presses his buttons, but he does like it when someone follows his orders. During the daytime he wears glasses, but at night he takes them off. Last, but not least Neo likes to lie therefore he is a compulsive liar. ☻History: Neo's mother and father were a super hero pair like no other. One had the intellectual ability to fabricate weapons from their surroundings, and the other had the ability to remember anything. His mother remembered all types of fighting styles, and his father knew how to create guns from grass, and water. It was an interesting childhood to say the least, and a happy one. He was actually the younger one as he had an older brother. His brother was a unique person to say the least due to him having 2 super powers that Neo was not allowed to know. Their parents had trained him to become a great super hero, but he however had not been blessed with gifts. Unlike his brother who attended a special set of schools for the "extra" talented Neo went to a normal school with normal friends. He would go home, and do normal homework a 3rd grader would do. His life had changed when he not only discovered what his brothers talents were, but also who he was using them on. When he had discovered them it had been too late, and therefore he would be thrown into a predicament that he would have never guessed would have happened. It was a Friday evening, and he had been allowed to spend the night at his friends house for the weekend. As a little kid he was happy, but as he grew older he realized that it was a strange situation has his parents never would have allowed him to stay at someones house that long. Though he went to a normal school, and had normal friends it was not for long. They moved often, and his parents had told him the last time he wanted to have a sleep over that he wasn't allowed to since they had just moved to a new area. This time however was different. On arriving to his friends house his parents had bought them snacks, ice cream, and a few movies that they could watch. They had spent half of the night having a good time before the kids parents would send them to bed in a pillow-made fort. It was a perfect sleepover. That is, until an intruder had broken into the house. If not for the loud thud that had occurred on the first floor Neo would not have woken up. He was curious to see what was going on as there were a few more thud noises. It was as if the kids parents were play-fighting in the living room like his parents had always done. All fair in game as they would laugh, joke, and in the end do a kiss that he always said "ew" to. He soon realized that the thuds were not play fighting, and that his brothers powers was not only stealing their powers, but by doing to he took their lives as well. He saw it right before his own eyes. As Neo began to slowly go up the steps in horror his friend had woken up and asked what he was doing awake. His brother reacted to the voice, and caught them before they could even run a few feet. In the end the boy, and him were taken by an "organization" that his brother had a major role in. Turns out that the trips his brother would often take were missions from this organization, and he was to take as many powers as he could and distribute them to children of super heroes whom had none. They were the only children that could withstand the powers force. There, he went through torture, manipulation, conditioning, and battling other villains in training. There, he would damage his eyes, and as a gift for making it as far as he did with the little eyesight he had left he was granted his dual powers. By his brother of course since he not only could take powers, but also put them in some other host. Later, he would realize that his own brother had killed his parents. It wasn't even a secret among the others in the organization, but because the trainee's were in a different facility they didn't know much of what was going on even outside the gates. Neo planned carefully, and in the end killed his brother whom was nearing death. It turned out that taking powers meant that his own life was shortened each time he used his own powers. His life had changed not for the better, but in the end for the worst. ☻Reason for Becoming a Villain: He was trained to become one, and figured since there was already blood on his hands there was no going back. His family was dead, and he was given powers that he was not born with by his own brother. Nothing he could do could make him turn away from what he had been through, and what he can't escape from. ☻Other: He likes ramen, and music. ☻Theme Song:

"Présentation, un Trio très étrange!" (Je m'excuse si quelqu'un m'a manqué.) Schéma de couleur pour le dialogue : John, Devan et Jayce Devan avait jeté un coup d'œil sur celui qui criait sur les oiseaux d'amour avant de regarder Jayce et John. Secouant la tête, il regarda en arrière ses papiers avec un sourire jusqu'à ce que John parle. "Oh, il n'est pas mon genre, je suis plus intéressé par cette belle figure ici." Gesturation vers Devan qui a regardé John avec un éclat. "Qu'est-ce que le fu-John t'a fait-ah, oublie ça... Je n'alimente pas le feu." Devan a simplement roulé les yeux et secoua la tête à nouveau, les yeux paresseux se concentrant sur sa paperasse. "Pousse-toi! Ta mère suce le dong du diable!" Le voilà encore Devan réfléchi. Jayce a tiré de son siège et a renversé la femme vêtue d'écume, prête à la défier à un combat. "C'était une image très vivante que j'ai eue... Intéressante vraiment. Je me demande si le diable utilise lubri-." Derrière la colère dans les yeux de Jayce, un regard de dégoût est venu à travers pour le compléter en regardant John... « Tu es tellement bizarre » il a pensé à lui-même jusqu'à ce que quelqu'un a une fois de plus parlé du triangle d'amour inexistant entre les trois auxquels Jayce a simplement retourné. Lentement, une marque de tique grandit sur la tête de Devan et il soupira, tournant son attention vers l'ours en peluche à côté de lui. "Imaginez avoir à gérer avec eux 24/7 365 jours par semaine..." Glanking sur l'ours en peluche avant de regarder ses papiers. L'agitation et la dispute sont devenues plus bruyantes et plus bruyantes que les gens criaient à embrasser, d'autres applaudissant l'idée sur, quelqu'un offrant le paiement (à laquelle Jayce a noté) et assez tôt Jayce a craqué, finalement céder à la connerie. "Fuck tous de merdes! Tu as un problème avec moi, alors on va l'emmener dehors et je te montre avec qui tu as affaire!" Et avec ça, il s'est retourné à sa chaise jusqu'à... Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? junk "Sonova...GrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Il a été frappé par une attaque surprise par derrière, un garçon timide lui avait été lancé par ce que Devan et John ont vu. Il semblait s'être calmé après ça jusqu'à ce que la colère bouillante de Jayce s'éteigne comme un geyser. Il a filé alors que ses mains commencèrent à déchirer aprt en vrilles, se reformant en deux lances qui ont coulé dans le sol de chaque côté du garçon. et devant ce garçon, des vrilles pointues, tirées sous le sol et autour de la pièce, empalant les murs dans la pièce, qui manquaient tous de ses occupants de pouces. Devan a à peine eu le temps de réagir comme on a presque réclamé sa vie par sa gorge et John, aussi flexible qu'il l'était, s'est contorqué dans une position qui lui a permis d'utiliser pratiquement les vrilles comme un hamac. "Merci Jay-bird" John chante-chant. "Ouh! ....Pour l'amour de Dieu Jayce! C'est de ça que nous parlons avec ta colère! » Finalement, après la grève presque fatale, il s'empare de Jayce avec le fait évident de la nécessité de classes de gestion de la colère. Jayce regarda le sol, les yeux se précipitant en avant et en arrière dans une position dilatée. Bientôt, il s'est concentré sur le garçon qui était couché sur le sol. "M-Ma mauvaise." Il a hésité à s'excuser auprès de Maxwell avant de se rétracter les vrilles et de se reformer les mains, faisant tomber John au sol avec un audible "ACK!. Jayce était encore en train de bouillir, car on pouvait voir des preuves dans son poing serré. Jean l'appela et lui jeta un briquet auquel Jay-bird fit signe de reconnaissance. Rapidement, il a allumé la cigarette et en a exhalé un grand nuage avant de revenir à son siège maintenant cassé. "Annnnnd une autre chose qu'on va devoir rembourser... super." Et avec ce commentaire, Jayce s'est contenté de regarder Devan. Je te déteste...

Real Name: Johnathan Francis Ives Nickname(s): Johnny-B, Johnny Boy, John, Dickwad, Assweasel, Jeff (J.F), Serial Number 183348-529-S Hero Name: Dracula Gender: Male Age: 27 Appearance: Standing in at a slightly lanky 6'5", Johnathan doesn't seem to be much of an intimidation when weighing in around 150lbs but it isn't his body structure that is intimidating. It is his blackish eyes, greyish skin and eerie lifeless smile that rests on his face most of the time. His haircut slightly matches that of Devan's with the exception of the higher and tighter shave towards the top, allowing the middle part lay long and low, flowing slightly over one eye or the other, depending on his posture. Sexuality: Bisexual Weapon(s): 2x Boot Knives 2x knuckle dusters 1x Ring knife Main Power: Blood Manipulation (Hematokenesis): For John, Blood manipulation allows him to manipulate the blood that runs through his system in an external method such as the creation of blades, shields, spears and in an internal method by increasing the density of his blood to create a slightly stronger epidermis. However, he is only limited to how much blood is in his system. Sub Power: Blood Pressure Manipulation: As a by-product of being able to control his own blood, he has gained the ability to increase its pressure, allowing him access to enhanced speed and strength but not to the degree of others whose main ability is that of super strength or super speed. Personality: He has quite the calm demeanor despite his horrid past. Although, it tends to lean towards the creepier side of things with his slightly monotone yet upbeat voice. He never seems to have a purpose and tends to react on impulse, adding to his slight unpredictability. However, he is always up for a talk on intellect and abstract thinking as he enjoys things like that but in actuality he is slightly deranged so its more thoughts of a madman than anything else. He considers his friends Jayce and Devan as brothers and occasionally Devan as a lover, mostly to just get a negative reaction out of him. He prefers to follow the Fibonacci effect, spiraling out of normalcy in the hopes to find a higher enlightenment through reading and meditation. Training is important to him but he strays away sometimes, opting to watch the sky or something else. His combative side on the other hand is rather cold and ruthless, holding no remorse or regret behind every action as he sees every action as something inevitable, Something that was to come but only time was the key to when. Finally, should one ever truly rile him up on the battlefield, he does hold a sort of psychotic bloodlust that sends him into a frenzy, earning him the moniker amongst his friends, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. The adrenaline, the rapid heartbeat and the physical pain that accompanies battle makes him feel alive once more. History: All that is known about him is that Devan and himself were friends when they were younger living in Iowa. It wasn't until later in John's life when certain events began to happen did he break away from their ties and fell off the grid, only to return in handcuffs with cameras on him years later. In the span of 7 years he had killed 39 people, all associated with child molestation, kidnapping and murder. Devan and him have regained their bonds with each other and in the process a third companion who had recently joined them since the appearance of the Voodoo Man. Possibly one of the more dangerous individuals of the group, he had been on death row for some time before he was expunged of his crimes due to the Governments need for him. Although, he doesn't deny what he did, simply opting to refuse to answer. His backstory is of darkness, tragedy and anger, abuse and violence that he wishes to never relive but he does, with each kill, with each heartbeat. After the recent attacks from the Voodoo Man and an encounter with one of them with the shadow of death looming over him, he feels alive again so this is why he went along with the Government's project. If one is lucky to get to get close to him, one may actually learn of his backstory and what made him the way he was. Other: My mind tends to drift sometime into the vast space of my psyche... APPROVED VIA PMs Real Name: Devan Levi Marshall Nickname(s): Devvy-boo, Dev, Levi, Motherfucker, Asshole Hero Name: Buzz Gender: Male Age: 24 Appearance: Barely standing at 5'8" and 120lbs, this little guy adorns lazy sunken eyes and weary look, mostly thanks to morons one and two (John and Jayce). John's haircut is styled after Devan's but the difference being that Devan's hair (faded along the sides leaving longer hair up top) is much better kempt than his friend John's. His casual wear includes a greenish sports jacket, red shirt, tan cargo pants and green shoes. However, when on a job he wears his tactical gear. Sexuality: Straight Weapon(s): 2x Ninjato 2x Daggers Main Power: Super speed: His muscular system is a bit different than others, being very lean yet dense, allowing his body to move and react quicker than most and run incredible speeds. He has only once ever broken the sound barrier but has yet to do it again. However, due to this he now knows what he is capable of, but at a cost. To understand what this means, one must look once again at his genetic makeup. His heart beats at a normal rate, twice as fast as a normal human's would, but when exerting any form of physical stress it triples or quadruples in speed in order to keep up with the need for oxygen in the body and for his systems. However, despite having a body lean and made for this high speed maneuvering, his internal organs are only slightly enhanced to keep up with him so he ahs a higher chance of having a heart attack should he exceed too much force on his body, having come close to one when he did break the sound barrier. Sub Power: Adrenal Activation: In conjunction with his natural super speed, his body excretes extremely high doses of adrenaline from his adrenal glands, allowing him to see and react normally in the high speed maneuvering. It can be seen in his eyes as he cans a second, third and forth pupil, all registering what is happening like a high speed camera. Personality: Devan is (usually) the level headed one of the three and can be seen in his actions and mannerisms when talking to the other two. He is the leader of their group and it is apparent when he has to discipline the two. Devan isn't a very talkative individual, tending to give short answers or looks accompanied by shrugs, rolls of the eyes or simply walking away. However, he always on his toes, ready for what is to come History: Devan is aware of the Judicial system as he has been in and out of jail many times thanks to his violent past starting with a B&E in some yuppie's house. it had grown from there into pickpocketing, theft and arson though his arson consisted of mostly small fires in public parks. Funny enough his first arson charge wasn't even meant to be out of any negative emotion but rather to help out some homeless person stay warm. When his childhood friend John disappeared of the face of the world, he worried about his safety and had for some time. That was until he saw him on the news, handcuffed with the title, The Phantom Killer has been Caught. After finding out where he was staying, he made sure to visit him and when he did he slowly began to learn about his past and how messed up it had been, answering his questions about why he disappeared. The rekindling of their friendship would grow even more when they had released him after Voodoo Man's arrival. John had been given a chance to make amends by taking this villain out and if so would have his sentence expunged. As of now Devan is not only a brother to John, but a handler in a sense by the government. Other: Accepted Via PM Real Name: Jayce Pearsons Nickname(s): Noodles, King of the Tentacle Hentai, Jayce, Jay-Bird, Asshat Hero Name: Krakken Gender: Whatever he's in the fucking mood for (literally) Age: 25 Appearance: Jayce (usually) stands at around 6'3" and 250lbs making him the bulkier of the three. Thanks to his mutation, he technically doesn't wear clothing but rather creates it from his own body. Sexuality: Yes Weapon(s): None Main Power: Biokenesis: Jayce has mastery over his own biomass, capable of manipulating and creating it to whatever he needs whether it is for offensive, defensive, support or utility reasons. He is able to weaponize himself in order to defend his life. Capable of making melee weapons, shields, armor and other varied utilities, he can be a nuisance on the battlefield should one come across him. Long periods of time using his abilities will drain him. High doses of electricity can shut him down. Sub Power: Because of his mastery over his body, he has also gained as a byproduct increased physical attributes. Personality: Short-tempered, arrogant, loyal, trustworthy History: Jayce for the most part comes from a wealthy family that is somewhat dysfunctional as consistent fighting amongst the parents due to his very unique mutation that had in turn caused him to lash out in public, inevitably getting police involved in many incidents and the media plastering stories over the internet and news. This had gone on for some time until the appearance of the Voodoo Man and his minions were he had wished he had a closer relationship with his family. The Voodoo Man had taken his family and he has yet to hear from them. As being directly affected by the Voodoo Man, the government had asked for him to assist them, considering that his mutation is a bit of a dangerous one but knew of two others that he could get along well with. Soon after meeting up with Devan and John, the connection between the three grew. He hopes he can find out any information pertaining to his family and their disappearance. Other: Approval via PM

Richard Scott Richard a donné un pouce vers le haut à Neo; il semblait que quelqu'un avait remarqué ses efforts pour aider les gens à résoudre leurs problèmes "Juste faire de mon mieux" il lui a dit innocemment. Il semblait qu'il voulait être jeté dans l'air aussi; pour quelle raison, quelqu'un voudrait être jeté dans l'air? Ce n'est pas qu'il devait y avoir une raison pour cela, car c'était un peu amusant de jeter des choses, mais c'était un peu étrange comme cette réunion. Il a pris Neo par le collier de sa veste et était prêt à l'envoyer en avion, dans la même direction qu'il a lancé Maxwell. Avant de jeter Neo, Richard s'est rendu compte que l'un d'eux avait l'air en colère, chose qu'il a déduite des pics qui venaient du sol et par Richard le bon sens lui a dit jeter quelqu'un à une personne en colère était une mauvaise idée, encore pire quand ils peuvent créer des vrilles. Leur opinion d'abord, avant que vous ou moi finissons empalés. Toujours en portant Neo, il a crié aux trois hommes.

Real Name: Johnathan Francis Ives Nickname(s): Johnny-B, Johnny Boy, John, Dickwad, Assweasel, Jeff (J.F), Serial Number 183348-529-S Hero Name: Dracula Gender: Male Age: 27 Appearance: Standing in at a slightly lanky 6'5", Johnathan doesn't seem to be much of an intimidation when weighing in around 150lbs but it isn't his body structure that is intimidating. It is his blackish eyes, greyish skin and eerie lifeless smile that rests on his face most of the time. His haircut slightly matches that of Devan's with the exception of the higher and tighter shave towards the top, allowing the middle part lay long and low, flowing slightly over one eye or the other, depending on his posture. Sexuality: Bisexual Weapon(s): 2x Boot Knives 2x knuckle dusters 1x Ring knife Main Power: Blood Manipulation (Hematokenesis): For John, Blood manipulation allows him to manipulate the blood that runs through his system in an external method such as the creation of blades, shields, spears and in an internal method by increasing the density of his blood to create a slightly stronger epidermis. However, he is only limited to how much blood is in his system. Sub Power: Blood Pressure Manipulation: As a by-product of being able to control his own blood, he has gained the ability to increase its pressure, allowing him access to enhanced speed and strength but not to the degree of others whose main ability is that of super strength or super speed. Personality: He has quite the calm demeanor despite his horrid past. Although, it tends to lean towards the creepier side of things with his slightly monotone yet upbeat voice. He never seems to have a purpose and tends to react on impulse, adding to his slight unpredictability. However, he is always up for a talk on intellect and abstract thinking as he enjoys things like that but in actuality he is slightly deranged so its more thoughts of a madman than anything else. He considers his friends Jayce and Devan as brothers and occasionally Devan as a lover, mostly to just get a negative reaction out of him. He prefers to follow the Fibonacci effect, spiraling out of normalcy in the hopes to find a higher enlightenment through reading and meditation. Training is important to him but he strays away sometimes, opting to watch the sky or something else. His combative side on the other hand is rather cold and ruthless, holding no remorse or regret behind every action as he sees every action as something inevitable, Something that was to come but only time was the key to when. Finally, should one ever truly rile him up on the battlefield, he does hold a sort of psychotic bloodlust that sends him into a frenzy, earning him the moniker amongst his friends, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. The adrenaline, the rapid heartbeat and the physical pain that accompanies battle makes him feel alive once more. History: All that is known about him is that Devan and himself were friends when they were younger living in Iowa. It wasn't until later in John's life when certain events began to happen did he break away from their ties and fell off the grid, only to return in handcuffs with cameras on him years later. In the span of 7 years he had killed 39 people, all associated with child molestation, kidnapping and murder. Devan and him have regained their bonds with each other and in the process a third companion who had recently joined them since the appearance of the Voodoo Man. Possibly one of the more dangerous individuals of the group, he had been on death row for some time before he was expunged of his crimes due to the Governments need for him. Although, he doesn't deny what he did, simply opting to refuse to answer. His backstory is of darkness, tragedy and anger, abuse and violence that he wishes to never relive but he does, with each kill, with each heartbeat. After the recent attacks from the Voodoo Man and an encounter with one of them with the shadow of death looming over him, he feels alive again so this is why he went along with the Government's project. If one is lucky to get to get close to him, one may actually learn of his backstory and what made him the way he was. Other: My mind tends to drift sometime into the vast space of my psyche... APPROVED VIA PMs Real Name: Devan Levi Marshall Nickname(s): Devvy-boo, Dev, Levi, Motherfucker, Asshole Hero Name: Buzz Gender: Male Age: 24 Appearance: Barely standing at 5'8" and 120lbs, this little guy adorns lazy sunken eyes and weary look, mostly thanks to morons one and two (John and Jayce). John's haircut is styled after Devan's but the difference being that Devan's hair (faded along the sides leaving longer hair up top) is much better kempt than his friend John's. His casual wear includes a greenish sports jacket, red shirt, tan cargo pants and green shoes. However, when on a job he wears his tactical gear. Sexuality: Straight Weapon(s): 2x Ninjato 2x Daggers Main Power: Super speed: His muscular system is a bit different than others, being very lean yet dense, allowing his body to move and react quicker than most and run incredible speeds. He has only once ever broken the sound barrier but has yet to do it again. However, due to this he now knows what he is capable of, but at a cost. To understand what this means, one must look once again at his genetic makeup. His heart beats at a normal rate, twice as fast as a normal human's would, but when exerting any form of physical stress it triples or quadruples in speed in order to keep up with the need for oxygen in the body and for his systems. However, despite having a body lean and made for this high speed maneuvering, his internal organs are only slightly enhanced to keep up with him so he ahs a higher chance of having a heart attack should he exceed too much force on his body, having come close to one when he did break the sound barrier. Sub Power: Adrenal Activation: In conjunction with his natural super speed, his body excretes extremely high doses of adrenaline from his adrenal glands, allowing him to see and react normally in the high speed maneuvering. It can be seen in his eyes as he cans a second, third and forth pupil, all registering what is happening like a high speed camera. Personality: Devan is (usually) the level headed one of the three and can be seen in his actions and mannerisms when talking to the other two. He is the leader of their group and it is apparent when he has to discipline the two. Devan isn't a very talkative individual, tending to give short answers or looks accompanied by shrugs, rolls of the eyes or simply walking away. However, he always on his toes, ready for what is to come History: Devan is aware of the Judicial system as he has been in and out of jail many times thanks to his violent past starting with a B&E in some yuppie's house. it had grown from there into pickpocketing, theft and arson though his arson consisted of mostly small fires in public parks. Funny enough his first arson charge wasn't even meant to be out of any negative emotion but rather to help out some homeless person stay warm. When his childhood friend John disappeared of the face of the world, he worried about his safety and had for some time. That was until he saw him on the news, handcuffed with the title, The Phantom Killer has been Caught. After finding out where he was staying, he made sure to visit him and when he did he slowly began to learn about his past and how messed up it had been, answering his questions about why he disappeared. The rekindling of their friendship would grow even more when they had released him after Voodoo Man's arrival. John had been given a chance to make amends by taking this villain out and if so would have his sentence expunged. As of now Devan is not only a brother to John, but a handler in a sense by the government. Other: Accepted Via PM Real Name: Jayce Pearsons Nickname(s): Noodles, King of the Tentacle Hentai, Jayce, Jay-Bird, Asshat Hero Name: Krakken Gender: Whatever he's in the fucking mood for (literally) Age: 25 Appearance: Jayce (usually) stands at around 6'3" and 250lbs making him the bulkier of the three. Thanks to his mutation, he technically doesn't wear clothing but rather creates it from his own body. Sexuality: Yes Weapon(s): None Main Power: Biokenesis: Jayce has mastery over his own biomass, capable of manipulating and creating it to whatever he needs whether it is for offensive, defensive, support or utility reasons. He is able to weaponize himself in order to defend his life. Capable of making melee weapons, shields, armor and other varied utilities, he can be a nuisance on the battlefield should one come across him. Long periods of time using his abilities will drain him. High doses of electricity can shut him down. Sub Power: Because of his mastery over his body, he has also gained as a byproduct increased physical attributes. Personality: Short-tempered, arrogant, loyal, trustworthy History: Jayce for the most part comes from a wealthy family that is somewhat dysfunctional as consistent fighting amongst the parents due to his very unique mutation that had in turn caused him to lash out in public, inevitably getting police involved in many incidents and the media plastering stories over the internet and news. This had gone on for some time until the appearance of the Voodoo Man and his minions were he had wished he had a closer relationship with his family. The Voodoo Man had taken his family and he has yet to hear from them. As being directly affected by the Voodoo Man, the government had asked for him to assist them, considering that his mutation is a bit of a dangerous one but knew of two others that he could get along well with. Soon after meeting up with Devan and John, the connection between the three grew. He hopes he can find out any information pertaining to his family and their disappearance. Other: Approval via PM

À l'entrée du maire! "Quoi? Comment ça, tu laisses Charlie envoyer les lettres?! Il n'est là que depuis une semaine! » Sur son portable, un homme plus court, légèrement potelé, s'est jeté dans les couloirs. "Est-ce qu'il sait à qui il l'a envoyé? Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire par "il envoie tout?" L'homme, tournant sous ses yeux et bouffant les joues fatiguées, s'arrêta à l'extérieur de son bureau. "Susan, je te rappelle. J'y vais maintenant." Dès que son pouce pudgé a frappé le bouton d'appel de fin et qu'il a fouetté un peu de sueur sur son front, le maire a sauté presque un pied du sol alors qu'il entendait s'écraser de l'intérieur de son bureau. Le visage de Hans est palpé, le corps est en état de choc. "Oh, mon Dieu..." Le maire ouvrit lentement les portes, le visage manquant de toute émotion alors qu'il regardait le chaos. "Oui? Ça veut dire que tu peux t'asseoir dessus et tourner!" Violet souillé en réponse à la jolie mention de sa mère par Jayce. Le chef de gang n'a pas eu le temps de répondre à la pom-pom girl, trop occupé à se moquer de l'homme fougueux. Les yeux bruns du maire suivirent le flou d'un garçon maigre jeté à travers la pièce, qui rampa rapidement dans un coin après avoir rapidement atterri avec son dos sur le sol après avoir frappé l'agressivité Jayce. Puis, des pics ont déchiré le bureau bien-aimé du maire, faisant tomber sa mâchoire dans un cri inaudible. "...l'assurance ne couvre pas les pics mutants ombreux, je ne crois pas..." Il murmurait faiblement à lui-même. Le maire s'est emparé, agrippant le deuxième garçon dans les mains de Richard et l'enlevant. "Ne jetez pas les gens!" Il a balancé les cartes de tarot, faisant tomber Violet sur sa chaise. "C'est quoi ce bordel?" "Pas de lecture de carte! Pas de malédiction!" Il est ensuite allé à Jayce, tirant la cigarette de sa main et la frottant sur le sol. "Ne fumez pas!" "Jeez. Buzzkill." Le maire, épuisé, s'est plié dans sa chaise de bureau et a mis sa tête dans ses mains avec un gémissement tranquille. Il n'a pas été assez payé pour ça... Enfin, il a réussi à lever la tête avec un soupir pour regarder le groupe devant lui. Un tas d'inadaptés, ils l'étaient! Il avait mal à la tête... creusé dans son tiroir pour de l'aspirine, les abattant sans eau et prenant un soupir profond. "... Très bien alors. Je suis le maire Stephen Hans. C'est... un plaisir, de vous rencontrer tous." Le maire a jeté un autre coup d'œil autour de la pièce, étouffant une victoire. "Si vous lisez ma lettre, vous savez pourquoi je vous ai appelé ici. Il y a un grand mal qui écrase notre ville, et bientôt il pourrait nous consumer. Le Voodoo Man est quelqu'un qui contrôle ces récentes explosions de méchants qui attaquent les citoyens. La seule façon de les combattre, c'est avec notre propre génération de mutants... "Génération X". Vous serez tous payés pour vos services dans la protection de la ville, mais la seule prise est... vous devez travailler ensemble." Sans surprise, Violet a été la première à sauter de son siège et à s'y opposer. "Quoi? C'est pas vrai! Pourquoi devrais-je travailler avec Octopussy là-bas?" Elle s'est arrêtée pour pointer accusablement à Jayce. "Ouais, baise ça." La femme aux cheveux blancs a traversé ses bras obstinément. "Alors, tu peux partir. Nous avons besoin de tous vos pouvoirs collectifs, et cela signifie travailler ensemble. Tout seul, aucun de vous ne peut vaincre Voodoo Man. Vous avez besoin l'un de l'autre." Violet a claqué sa langue dans le dégoût. "Vous aurez tous des noms de code, donc nous ne vous appellerons pas par vos vrais noms en public. Voici la liste." Il a mis quelques papiers sur le bureau. Comme les héros se sont retournés pour voir leurs noms de héros respectifs, un appel est venu à travers. Le maire a répondu. "Bonjour? Quoi, à Grove Park?! Oh non! " Hans a claqué le téléphone, debout boulon debout de sa chaise. "Génération X! Il n'y a pas de temps! Un méchant est apparu au Barbecue Bash dans le parc Good Grove, il y a des enfants là-bas! S'il vous plaît, vous devez vous dépêcher!" Les yeux noirs de Max s'élargissaient à la mention des enfants, et en un clin d'œil, il disparut. Téléportant aussi vite que possible vers le parc, son objectif principal était d'amener les citoyens à la sécurité. "Eh? Déjà? D'accord, je vais les brûler à un croustillant!!" Violet a frappé son poing dans sa main excitée, allant à la fenêtre et clignotant un clin d'œil et un signe de paix au reste du groupe. "Rendez-vous là-bas!" Et elle est partie, se précipitant vers le parc. Leur premier méchant! Voyons si les héros peuvent s'en occuper... Va le chercher, Génération X!

Real Name: Violet Riise Nickname(s): Vivi, Leader, Psycho, Flamehead Hero Name: Flame Vixen Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: female Age: 21 Appearance: Standing at 5'4", Violet is short to match her short temper. Even though she has a very pretty heart shaped face with large magenta cat-like eyes, a small nose, thin brows and light pink-beige small lips, it can easily become terrifying when those big eyes light up in full-fledged fire. Violet is pale and is a fairly average weight, but can become very aggressive if you mention her round rump or thick thighs. She has long, wavy white hair that is dyed, her natural hair color being brown. She often wears skimpy clothes with a white flame on them, considering it her symbol. Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): Two switchblades strapped to her thighs and a shotgun. Main Power: Pyrokinesis. Can manipulate fire and create it out of thin air using only her mind. When truly furious goes into "Rage Inferno" where her whole body is covered in flames. Sub Power: None. Personality: Violet is a very unstable person. Considered bipolar, she can be very friendly and personable at one moment and the next be ready to rip you to shreds. She leans towards physical violence in order to get her way, and if she doesn't she will flip the fuck out. Violet is a very self centered person, but if you manage to get on her good side, she will swear by her life to protect you. Like with her gang, she might be rough with you still but it is with love, and she will treat you like family. Get on her bad side though... well, let's just say you'll regret it. History: Violet was raised by her mother, her parents being divorced and her father running off with another woman. Believe it or not, Violet was actually a good student up until her Junior year, where the school had a turnover and new teachers came in. She didn't like any of them, and most were real bastards to her, so she slowly faded out of school until eventually she barely ever went. It was also around the time her mother found a new boyfriend. Instead of going to school, Violet found another place to put her time and energy. A few years ago, downtown Metropolis was overrun with gangs that were constantly at war with one another. Most couldn't even walk down the street without a weapon. Sick of this, Violet started her own gang to set things straight, naming it "Devilspawn." Originally it was just a group of stupid high schoolers that acted as vigilantes and beat back gangs that got a little too aggressive, but as a few years passed and the gang grew so did another gang. The competing gang started a fight with Devilspawn, and when they went straight for Violet, she lit them up not with a gun but with real fire. She discovered that she was a mutant, with the power to manipulate and create fire from her own mind. The others became afraid of Violet and her gang, leaving Metropolis all together. The gang now is used as a sort of, violent neighborhood watch. Things were running smoothly, until one night all the gangs that had turned tail and fled came back— but with the force of the Voodoo Man. They took out many of the Devils, and this infuriated Violet, because they were like family to her. She swore revenge on the Voodoo Man for causing her 'family' such pain, and now searches him out to give him what he deserves! Other: Is the leader and founder of the largest gang in Metropolis, "Devilspawn." Their symbol. Real Name: Maxwell Weiseman Nickname(s): Max Hero Name: Phaser Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: male Age: 17 Appearance: Max is a tall but thin boy, with little to no muscle mass at all and his height a little above 6'5". He has shaggy, somewhat outgrown black hair that falls over his matching black eyes that are always hidden behind thick lenses on a studious pair of black glass frames. He always has a somewhat sad look on his face, with a sharp chin and soft bone structure, thin lips and straight brows. Max is a little sensitive about his longer nose, as well as his pale complexion that always seems to lack proper blood flow. He always wears clothes that are a bit too big on him and seem baggy, most often seen in his school uniform. If you asked people what his best physical feature was, they most likely would say he has a "cute ass." Sexuality: demisexual Weapon(s): Metal-toed boots and metal knuckles Main Power: Teleportation. Can travel at maximum a few blocks away, and as far as consecutive teleportations, the further away he has to teleport one after another the harder it is. Just in fights, teleporting within a few feet he is able to do it much more easily. Overdoing it could make him pass out. Sub Power: By extending his palm out flat or using the top of his forearm to create a shield of plasma. It can only last for a few hits each, and can immediately shatter if it's hit with a full blast of another's power. He can only create one in the span of a couple of hours, and it is only about 1 and a half feet at maximum for length and width. Physical attacks don't do much damage to it. Personality: Max is a very quiet soul. He's fairly shy and soft spoken, often preferring to be alone than amongst others. He is often trampled on because of his passivity but Max never complains about it. He is respectful and kind, and will help others as long as he doesn't have to interact with them. History: Max has been second place his entire life. Always a straight B student, the second child, the silver trophy winner in everything he attempted— he never could win first place. His mother and father were devoted to his older brother and completely bypassed little Max, never recognizing his second rate achievements. He really lived a normal life however. A devoted student, though a bit shy and shut away from anything social, he really tried and never complained about anything. Max simply kept to himself, head down. And just like any teen, he had love interests. Max had a crush on this girl named Amber for two years of school, but never attempted to talk to her. Walking home from school one day, Amber was looking at her phone and walked out in front of a bus that was driving too fast down the road. Max, without thinking, ran out and grabbed her. But, suddenly, they were on the other side of the road. Passerby were shocked, whispering to each other about the weird teleporting mutant. Amber was scared of him, even though he had saved her, and ran away to avoid him completely at school. Max was heartbroken. But he didn't complain. He later found out that those who had whispered around them at the corner were not normal passerby. They were puppets of the Voodoo Man, seeking to torment the innocent mutant. Max wasn't angry, but he was upset. He wanted to defeat the Voodoo Man, not for himself, but so no one else can be hurt like he was. Other: Cannot see more than two feet in front of him without his glasses. Senior in high school. Has fairly bad social anxiety.

Entre-temps...Metropolis City - Good Grove Park - Midday Un après-midi ensoleillé-- de grands nuages gonflés dérivent pour intercepter le soleil, voyageant avec une brise fraîche. Good Grove Park ou GGP comme les résidents de Metropolis l'appelaient, est un grand parc qui prend une superficie de trois milles carrés sur le côté nord de la ville. Elle est connue pour ses terrains de jeux, ses sentiers de course et ses aires de pique-nique. Ce jour-là, GGP l'accueille chaque année.Parmi les vingt-trois chefs réunis pour participer, le jury de dix membres bien connus de la communauté, et un rassemblement civil d'environ deux cents personnes plus, le parc vit avec activité. Les enfants jouent à des jeux et une maison rugueuse comme les parents se mêlent, peut-être savourent une bière ou deux, et se plaignent de toutes sortes de friandises barbecue. Une petite scène de spectacle est au centre de l'événement - plusieurs musiciens locaux interprètent des chansons, se négocient régulièrement avec des comédiens, des activistes, des annonceurs et des conférenciers publics. Autour de la scène, les stands des chefs BBQ sont bien alignés, chaque chef ayant apporté son propre équipement. L'odeur sombre du barbecue et des épices s'entremêlent avec les senteurs d'abreuvoir de quelques desserts sucrés en cuisine. Les voix s'élèvent parfois au-dessus de la musique et grondent de centaines de voix-- les chefs font la publicité de leurs plats, distribuent des échantillons gratuits, invitent les gens à essayer--- mais une voix en particulier a tourné la tête... VILLAINE: POTLUCK C'est une voix de baryton, C'est un barbecue-smoothies cool! Fatigué après avoir crié ces quelques mots, Potluck courut une main sur son front trempé de sueur, puis plongea l'humidité recueillie sur le côté. Un grand homme, bien trop grand pour être entaché dans son barbecue assez mal assemblé, Potluck a fait signe aux gens en avant et se rappelait de se jeter la tête, sinon il le ramenait dans le plafond pour la dix-neuvième fois. Ce qu'il ne pouvait pas comprendre, c'était combien de gens continuaient à l'ignorer, seulement en regardant, pas vraiment venir. Il n'était pas difficile à rater, après tout-- cheveux orange et aussi grand qu'il était-- alors pourquoi n'était-ce pas quelqu'un qui venait essayer la nourriture? "Macaroni-pain et pommes de terre-pies," Potluck a crié, "F-Free samples!" Une femme a regardé vers lui curieusement-- Potluck a téléporté à elle-- elle a fui la tête et s'est enfuie. Il soupira profondément, frotta une main sur ses yeux, puis il les vit, debout devant lui avec des presse-papiers. "J-JUDGES"? Potluck gronda brusquement, redressa le dos, et rama la tête dans le plafond. Un homme aux cheveux grisants, à l'étrave et à un nom qui disait "Chase" a gagné sympathiquement pour Potluck et lui a dit, "Careful there-- oui, nous sommes les juges pour votre catégorie, articles de côté."Comme Potluck s'est frotté la tête, Chase a continué à dire, "Le conseiller Chase," il a glissé à un grand homme brun écorché et a dit, "C'est Radio D.J. et de la personnalité, Torrent-CX et Chase ont fait un geste à une jeune femme, Chef Almi Understamp. Potluck a reniflé en colère quand le chef a été nommé. Chase a prétendu que cela ne s'est pas produit, avez-vous préparé votre assiette d'échantillon pour nous?, Potluck s'est retourné à la grille derrière lui, s'est agenouillé, puis a ouvert le compartiment chauffant. Il a retiré trois assiettes pré-préparées, les a placées en bas devant les juges, puis a tiré quelques Popsicules enveloppées d'une poitrine de glace. L'un après l'autre, Potluck a pointé sur les articles sur les assiettes, les boulettes, le pain macaroni, les tartes à la viande de pomme de terre et les smoothies de barbecue frais, le dernier article qu'il a placé devant eux, le tube congelé de ce qui semblait être barbecue et viande déchiquetée. Les juges se regardaient de façon sceptique. Potluck a réussi à transpirer plus. Il se mit nerveusement à serrer les doigts alors que les juges regardaient silencieusement les plaques. Les trois ont commencé silencieusement à gribouiller sur leurs presse-papiers. On dirait que tu viens de jeter la nourriture sur l'assiette, Chase a bourdonné. Ils sont tous un peu indistinguables l'un de l'autre, le Chef Understamp, le Kind de se fondre ensemble et les textures ne semblent pas attrayants.Le DJ est resté silencieux mais a gagné à la légère. Potluck s'est serré les poings. Ça commence avec le pain macaroni, hm? Qui n'aime pas les macaronis comme un côté standard, a parlé DJ Torrent. Les trois juges se sont mis d'accord, ont pris des fourchettes propres de Potluck, puis ont commencé à couper le plat de leurs propres manières. Finalement, comme l'un après l'autre a pris des morsures, leurs visages tordus d'une manière qui a fait Potluck confus. Quoi? Potluck a demandé à Chase, qui semblait retenir la toux, avez-vous besoin d'eau?Le chef Understamp s'est retourné et a craché lourdement. DJ Torrent a arrosé les yeux, mais il a avalé, puis râpé, je peux... C'est une voix qui a fait écho dans l'esprit de Potluck. Ce n'était pas bien, c'était... C'était une autre voix qui traînait Potluck dans l'obscurité. Je ne peux pas croire... horrible... J'ai écho la voix finale avant que le monde de Potluck's devienne rouge. Potluck rugissait alors qu'il arrivait sous son stand de nourriture, tirant une marmite d'argent de dessous. Il a gratté les plaques d'échantillonnage dans le pot et une brume bleue a commencé à tourbillonner. Arrête d'être si méchant, a crié Potluck comme il a attaché le pot à lui-même, je n'aime pas quand les gens sont méchants pour moi! De la marmite est venu une chape de terre... un flou... son stand de nourriture a éclaté dans une douche de bois et de poteaux de tente courbés. Si tu n'aimes pas ça, quelqu'un d'autre le fera. Potluck a crié au-dessus de lui, une créature harpie qui avait l'air encerclée. Il a été fait d'ailes de colèles battues, de talons faits d'icicles aiguisés BBQ, et il a laissé sortir un greech sur terre avant de mettre le fromage de macaroni chaud à la fonte vers les juges. "Essayez ma nourriture," a crié Potluck alors que les foules ont commencé à crier et à fuir, "Essayez-le!" Trois autres harpies ont éclaté quatrième de la marmite puis sont allés crier après le peuple en retraite. Une femme paniquée qui se cache sous un stand de taco compose d'urgence 7-8-9, la ligne d'urgence du héros! Héros! Les citoyens de Metropolis ont besoin de votre aide! L'homme fou avec des pouvoirs culinaires-monster-summoning attaque un festival de BBQ bondé. Vous devriez faire des trucs héroïques. Aussi 789 est la hotline de héros d'urgence!

Character Has Been Accepted Via PM's with the GM. Rhyme time. Real Name: Unknown Nickname(s): Unknown Villain Name: Starless Knight Villain: BAD. SO BAD. Gender: Not Apparent (Any pronoun is fine) Age: Not Apparent Appearance: Starless Knight stands at an impressive height, towering over most people, and constantly banging their head into doorways (8ft tall precisely). Their silver armor is dull and doesn't look to be entirely metal-- almost as if it were made from something semi-organic-- and it's slightly warm to the touch. A large claw, spiked, acting as a form of shield, is what their left arm has transformed into. Their right arm ends at the wrist and turns into a lance from there, fully attached to their being. A mane of fibers extends from the base of their helmet, made from the same odd material as their body, which possesses the ability to act as a barrier or a whip to deflect projectiles. Two silver orbs glow from within the dark recess of the "helmet" which act as eyes. Every bit of the armor has no clear means of removal, heavily implying that it is part of the Starless Knight's body, instead of traditional assembled armor. A large chain with a dazzling blue gem is worn around the Starless Knight's neck and it is unbearably cold to the touch. Sexuality: HONORABLE! Asexual Weapon(s): Arm Lance. Arm Shield. Whip like "hair". Main Power: - Light Of The Stars - The lance can become empowered and glow a bright white making it both an eyesore and able to hit twice as hard as it otherwise can. It also has an advantage against shadow or darkness based abilities and can act as a pretty cool night light, if needed. - Coldness of Space - The chill of a starless void accompanies the Starless Knight's presence. When unleashed in full, the power of the gem worn around their neck empowers their attacks with ice based elemental abilities. The Starless Knight gets creative with the attacks-- freezing the ground, tossing around gusts of sub-zero winds, and even coating themselves in ice as an armor of sorts. Temperatures continue to sink in a large radius around the Starless Knight until the gem's power is deactivated. Sub Power: - Tough As Armor - Starless Knight's body is extremely tough-- made of a material that rivals that of titanium. This means it's definitely not impossible to break, dent, or penetrate. - Too Much Stamina - Running extreme distances, fighting hard for long periods of time, and not sleeping for days accompanies Starless Knight's abilities. They can become tired, of course, but it takes a large amount of exertion to do so. This results in day or longer resting periods. - Transformed State - Rumor has it that Starless Knight possesses the ability to transform into something else... hopefully nothing stronger than what they currently are. Personality: The honorable Starless Knight acts from a place of old school "chivalry" and upstanding morality. Constantly insisting that the evildoers must be purged, Starless Knight tirelessly hunts down heroes, meeting them on even ground and challenging them to combat. They don't like to take the lives of innocents, the defenseless, the otherwise helpless, and take a large amount of care not to cause unnecessary damage to the town or anyone's property. Starless Knight has been seen saving people from other villains on several occasions-- even going so far as to kill said villains, when their crimes were particularly heinous. As far as the Starless Knight is concerned, if you wield a weapon against them, you have declared yourself a threat-- capable of defending yourself-- and should either run or face elimination. They do not hold back their abilities when necessary and will use every ounce of their power if need be-- that being said, the Starless Knight doesn't believe in excessive force, dirty fighting, or "messy kills." In Starless Knight's eyes, your end will be swift, neat, and justified. History: Unknown. However, a peculiar missing person's report cropped up around the same time the Starless Knight appeared. It could be coincidental or related... depends on interpretation, really. (PM if you want to work out how your character may be able to obtain the details.) Reason for Becoming a Villain: Voodoo man dun up n wiggle waggle fingers mind control Behold Starless Knight, puppet of the Voodoo Man. Their intentions were once angry, spiteful, but good. Starless Knight was focused only on becoming a better hero than any others-- better than the ones that had disappointed the person they used to be. This made Starless Knight all too easy to manipulate into villainy. The Voodoo man offered them power enough to become a better hero-- power to freeze enemies in their tracks. The more heroes they defeated, the more Starless Knight's views twisted horribly-- No hero is good enough! All the weaker ones must be eliminated, else they hurt or harm those they mean to protect. So long as the Starless Knight is able to fight and win against heroes, they will continue their hunt, weeding out the weak from the strong, and crushing those up and coming vigilantes and do-gooders deemed unworthy. Starless Knight feels as if they will eventually be the last hero standing-- the only one capable of doing any good-- and then, only then, will the city and it's people be safe. Other: - Critical Weakness To Fire - Small exposure is okay. Maybe even standing in a fire... but being constantly heated for prolonged periods of time without any let up? You want a melted Knight? That's how you get a melted knight. - Lightning Rod - Lightning and electrical based attacks WILL hit Starless Knight with 100% accuracy every time. Prolonged exposure to lightning or electricity causes the same effects as prolonged exposure to flame. See above. - TOO MUCH HONOR - If someone yields to Starless Knight and begs to be spared, more than likely, Starless Knight will let them live, but only if they "swear on their honor" that they will abide by whatever Starless Knight demands of them. However, fool them once and you don't get a twice. Character has been Accepted Via PM's with GM's.

Veronica est passée par la fenêtre. "Désolé M. le maire. Ne t'inquiète pas pour les dommages à la chambre. Notre maître s'en occupera." Elle se pencha de près, presque séduisante et murmura. "Je crois que certains de ceux que vous avez convoqués sont plus enclins à accepter les villiers." Le maire avait l'air de vouloir lui demander pourquoi elle n'allait pas. "Je ne suis pas un modèle de combat. Je suis un modèle de liason. Je m'occupe des choses quotidiennes entre mon maître et le reste du monde. J'ai récemment été promue héros Liason. Si ça ne vous dérange pas, je vais m'asseoir et m'installer dans Veronica. Je dois la surveiller. Pensez-y comme le directeur de l'information sportive d'une université regardant le jeu, mais du point de vue du joueur vedette." Elle s'est assise près du maire. Quand Veronica a touché le sol, elle s'est enfuie en courant. Une arme en main. Au parc, elle a étudié le monstre de la journée. Elle a contacté Sara, aucun mot audible n'a été partagé, un peu comme deux télépathes parlant avec leur pouvoir. "Sara, tu vois ça. Si j'étais humain, je jurerais que j'hallucinais. Le monstre appelle des monstres de nourriture d'un pot. Sara était plus préoccupée par ce qu'il disait. "Prends un sac de chair. Tout à fait. Je vais poser quelques questions au sac de chair." Veronica allait prendre le premier sac de chair qui passait mais c'était un enfant qui criait pour que c'est maman. La deuxième personne était une personne avec la moitié de son visage brûlé. C'est dégoûtant. La dame entendit Veronica et commença à pleurer encore plus fort. Ses larmes lui causent la douleur qui lui fait crier. Enfin quelqu'un qui avait l'air de pouvoir répondre aux questions. Veronica a attrapé la personne par son bras pendant qu'il passait par, elle n'a pas pris en compte que l'arrêt soudain du bras pourrait entraîner des dommages, en particulier la briser. "Judge Torrent-CX, nous avons des questions pour vous. Je sais que ton bras te fait mal, arrête d'être un bébé. Faites pousser des boules, comme ces joueurs de la NFL." Sara a interrogé le grand bébé et l'a laissé partir. Revenir à leur communication interne. « Donc, fondamentalement, il est un bouffon mentalement handicapé, un cuisinier horrible, et doit probablement l'une des personnes les plus laides sur la face de la terre. Tu sais quoi faire." Veronica a changé ses armes en munitions non létales. "Va chercher ses couilles." Dans ce cas, cette obsession des monstres de sa nourriture étant amazeballs signifiait ruiner il était à peu près aussi efficace que le frapper dans ses vraies couilles. "Hé gras! Ta nourriture est tellement horrible qu'elle a poussé des ailes pour qu'elle puisse littéralement s'éloigner de toi. Tu es pathétique avec un cuisinier? Vous pensiez vraiment que quelqu'un dans le monde entier voudrait une de ces ordures? Je parie que c'est là que tu as trouvé tes ingrédients, la décharge. Les personnes affamées dans le tiers monde préféreraient mourir de faim plutôt que de manger la nourriture que vous avez cuisinée. Qui t'a appris à cuisiner un rat d'égout?" Sara parler est cette couleur Veronica parler est cette couleur

Real Name: Thomas Mastertorn Nickname(s): Robot God “Hero” Name: Roboto Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: Female Age: 35 Appearance: Sara Mastertorn, how Thomas interacts with the rest of the world Veronica Mastertorn, Thomas’ attack robot Sexuality: Heterosexual Weapon(s): Custom laser rifle system, it can be two pistols, rifle, or sniper rifle Last resort weapon: self destruct Custom sword Main Power: Genius Intellect Sub Power: Mechanical genius Personality: Eccentric & reclusive History: Thomas was paralyzed as a young boy. As a preteen his intellect ballooned to immeasurable levels. He built his first autonomous robot at seventeen. When he was twenty he opened a company building and selling his autonomous robots. By the time he was twenty-two he was a billionaire. He built Sara Mastertorn to act as his body out in the world, no one else is allowed to buy a copy of the model. When asked why he didn’t build a male one. His only response was “Female duh!” The question was in his opinion was extremely stupid, the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. He built models to work as receptionists, retail, military, police, any and every industry he built a model for and all female. Veronica Mastertorn is exclusive to his personal use and a unique model no one else can buy. Other:

Kimberly Hawkins n'a accordé qu'une petite et légère attention à, bien une variété d'événements qui se déroulaient. Elle fixa le maire, car la situation était expliquée au groupe qui s'était réuni pour la situation. Sûr qu'il y avait une sorte de chaos qui se produisit à un "bash barbecue" ; mais a-t-il quelque chose à voir avec Kimberly Hawkins!? C'est pas vrai! Ce n'est pas le cas. La fille a soupiré alors qu'elle pensait aux bûcherons qui auraient été présentés si l'endroit attaqué était un feu de joie au bord de la plage. Quoi qu'il en soit, il y avait au moins une chose qui préoccupait activement le Mercenaire et c'était ce que son nom de code allait être. Avec un rebond dans son pas, elle est allée au bureau. Alors qu'elle se penchait, son index planait sur les papiers à la recherche de son nom. Ah, c'est ça! La pom-pom girl a repéré son nom et dès qu'elle a vu le nom de code son cœur a chuté. En entendant les mots, une sueur froide s'est déversée sur son visage alors qu'elle tentait de cacher une grimace. "C'est ça. À l'aide. Oui. Héros. Woo... elle a dit de sauter et de lui botter les pieds. Alors qu'elle débarquait sur le sol, elle leva la main droite avec une pom-pom-pom fraîchement arrachée; avant de sortir immédiatement du bureau. Dès qu'elle a quitté le bureau, les sourcils de Kimberly ont sillonné les dents. "M-mongrel!? Moi!? "Monseigneur!" elle hurla comme elle pouvait sentir la métamorphose se produire. "Euuuuugh! Lâchez-moi! Qu'est-ce qu'ils pensent que je suis, un bimbette qui va le prendre en train de le faire? Kimberly Hawkins poussa alors que sa voix s'approfondissait et ses dents commencèrent à se aiguiser. En faisant des allers-retours, Kimberly regarda ses mains en les voyant grandir dans les muscles et les griffes commencèrent à se former. "GWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Elle se tailla alors qu'elle lançait son sac à main et ses pompons alors qu'elle tenait sa main droite devant elle pour cacher l'évident museau qui se manifestait. "AAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" hurla la bête alors qu'elle terminait sa métamorphose, se tenant debout et tenant ses membres avant large. La créature a brièvement regardé vers le bas les vêtements endommagés avant de descendre à quatre pattes. Tandis que la créature loupe tentait de remuer sa queue, elle se rendit bientôt compte que le short de pom-pom girl était toujours attaché. Cela ne le ferait pas; ainsi la créature de loup-garou connue par certains comme Mongrel a commencé à secouer sa fourrure sauvagement et se gratter avec ses membres du dos. La force était suffisante pour enlever le vêtement inutile et permettre à la queue d'être balancé. Levant la tête, Mongrel renifla l'air autour de lui pour déterminer une source de nourriture délicieuse. Avec le sentier parfumé trouvé, Mongrel a commencé à se diriger vers le parc. En arrivant sur les lieux, Mongrel continue à renifler lentement dans la région. Elle lui a léché les côtes et a barré ses crocs. Il y avait un trésor de nourriture à manger et beaucoup de choses à chasser. Le loup-garou s'est rendu compte de ce qui était le plus raisonnable et a ignoré la proie harpie pour le moment en faveur du trésor de Potluck de nourriture qui a été jeté dans une poubelle à proximité. Mongrel a fait tomber la poubelle avec sa patte droite, et peu de temps après elle a poussé la tête là-bas pour manger à la poubelle.

Real Name: Kimberly Hawkins Nickname(s): Princess, Alpha Bitch, Kimmie, Kim Hero Name: Mongrel Gender: Female Age: 19 Appearance: Sexuality: Cute and/or Handsome Individuals Weapon(s): Carries Pepper-spray Main Power: Werewolf Form - Willingly or (usually the case) unwillingly Kimberly transforms into a bestial werewolf with vicious and brutish strength with which she can tear through metal, chew through bone, long leaps towards prey, alongside other such feats of might. Sub Power: Monstrous Mind - The mind of a Werewolf Mutant is an easy yet complicated subject, which is very devoted. As such it scrambles any attempts of telepathy to read or influence. Personality: Kimberly is quite simply put a narcissist. She is incredibly vain in regards to her appearance and status among others. Often she acts with perky and ditzy front in an attempt to gain sympathy, attention and good thoughts among peers. But this belies the impishness of her character, as she has few qualms about using people and then stabbing them in the back. While she is mostly in things for herself and could care less about others, she does seem to genuinely care about whoever is part of her cheerleading squad at the time. But that could likely be chalked up to that however they look will rub off on her. As the Mongrel her behavior is much more simplistic. While Kimberly could possibly keep the instincts in check, this hardly ever happens. Mongrel is driven by the primary goals of conquering threats and hunting prey to feast. These two desires are gone after through fairly simplistic means of asserting their strength to accomplish the single-minded goals the Mongrel has at heart. If clearly outmatched, Mongrel will take the flight option of 'Fight v Flight' History: Kimberly Hawkins was born in the lap of luxury near the beaches of Cali. Her father was a ruthless venture capitalist, and her mother was a no nonsense corporate lawyer. Truly Kimberly was born in a family that were excellent at demonstrating empathy. For the most part Kimberly was a latch-key kid who was free to do all sorts of things. With this time, Kimberly Hawkins plotted and schemed the way for her to become the absolute top of the social hierarchy as the family funds were not enough. That's when she knew she needed to become a cheerleader, the Captain above all the others. She spent countless hours training, learning routines and dedicating her body to be prepared for the craft. She breezed through tryouts with her skills alongside sabotaging any who could provide a decent competition for her destined spot as the Captain. Kimberly then proceeded to dominate her social circles and rule with an iron fist. But such acts of politicking were not enough to lead us to where she is today. For that we must learn about how she came into contact with the Voodoo Man's insidious ways, and how the Mongrel came to be. That time came again where Kimberly needed to show why she needed to be the Captain of the squad. However through horrible and most sinister machinations, Kimberly was outperformed by a new girl who just moved into town, clearly by orders of the Voodoo Man in order to ruin the sanctity of this organization and destroy their chances to win at the out of state competition. The coach insisted that Kimberly could still be Vice Captain. She snapped and transformed into the Werewolf known as Mongrel and caused a ruckus. She couldn't show her face there again or be a part of the squad, let alone lead it. Leaving in shame, Kimberly Hawkins swore vengeance against the Voodoo Man and all of his minions. Luckily her quest would not just remain the angry complaints of a teenager for she was found by the group of Generation X who were after the same goal. But of course their goal was not as important because they weren't Kimberly; still she'll take what she can get. Other: Generation X! Generation X! Let's go fight! Show our might!

Lei ne voyait guère d'avantage à rester dans le bureau du maire pour discuter de sa stratégie avec les gens qui l'entouraient, d'autant plus que l'un des « héros » avec lesquels il avait apparemment dû travailler venait de détruire tout l'endroit et avait presque ébranlé plusieurs personnes avec des vrilles d'énergie sombre. Le fait que des civils innocents soient en danger est également un facteur motivant. Sans se soucier de voir quel que soit son nom de code a été désigné comme, probablement quelque chose qui ne sonnait pas particulièrement comme un héros de toute façon, l'homme à capuche est presque devenu un flou comme toute la longueur de son corps étiré et s'est tiré à travers la fenêtre. Lei a continué à se déplacer à des vitesses impressionnantes alors qu'il s'est rendu au parc, probablement beaucoup plus vite que la plupart des gens ne s'attendaient d'un homme qui ne courait même pas, mais plutôt traîner son estomac et ses jambes à travers le sol dans une séquence de slithers grotesques. En arrivant au parc, Lei a trouvé que la situation était... beaucoup à prendre, pour le moins. Apparemment, un homme d'une circonférence assez généreuse était sur une rampe et concoctant en quelque sorte une attaque contre quiconque en vue à travers l'utilisation de créations culinaires comme des créatures. Les dents du héros à l'échelle grit quand il a vu l'un des harpies se préparer à respirer un jet de macaronis fondus sur un enfant voisin, qui se tenait gelé dans la terreur. "Pas le temps de penser maintenant." Il murmura alors qu'il étirait son corps pour se tirer devant le garçon aussi vite qu'il le pouvait, puis étendit ses bras pour bloquer la plupart des aliments chauds enflammés. "Ggk!" Lei sifflait alors que la douloureuse sensation de brûlure intense commençait immédiatement à s'installer, avant qu'il ne se brise de son propre corps, laissant derrière lui une coquille creuse. Tournant la tête et regardant sa « peau cassée » continuer à s'écraser et fondre sous les macaronis avec un regard prudent, il a ensuite entendu une femme le remercier abondamment alors qu'elle emmenait son fils et courait en sécurité. Lei s'est alors propagé vers le haut au monstre volant qui avait essayé d'attaquer l'enfant, ses yeux de fente se rétrécissant dangereusement alors que son corps commençait à se tendue en préparation. Il n'avait pas été sous sa forme mutante bien avant d'entrer dans le bureau du maire, et en tant que tel n'avait pas le temps de produire plus de couches extérieures. Il devrait éviter de se faire frapper par les macaronis à partir de maintenant. Et le moyen le plus rapide d'y parvenir, c'était de détruire les choses qui les ont chassés. En ressortant du sol, son corps allongé s'enroule rapidement autour de la harpie au milieu de l'air, ce qui les fait tomber tous les deux s'écraser au sol. Lei grogne alors qu'il atterrit sur l'herbe, mais pour la plupart son corps élastique est capable d'absorber le choc, lui permettant de continuer à se constricter autour de la créature qu'il avait attrapée, écrasant progressivement sa section médiane dans l'espoir qu'il puisse l'empêcher de respirer à nouveau macaroni. Avec les deux entrelacés et immobiles sur le sol, il a probablement ouvert une bonne occasion pour n'importe qui d'autre de finir la créature, s'ils le désiraient.

Real Name: Ted Nickname(s): Fuzzy Terror Hero Name: Bear Commando Gender: male Age: 18 Appearance: Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): he wields a combat knife and AK-47 Main Power: Transmutation: Ted can alter his body's physical structure to mimic many substances and elements. He can make his skin hard like rock as well as make the fur on his body surge with electricity. Ted can only have his body mimic one element or substance at a time and shifting from one to the next too quickly can tire him out. When he mimics heavy substances then he is unable to stop himself from sinking in liquid environments and when his body is made up of light elements then he is more vulnerable to severe damage thanks to lack of density. While mimicking lighter substances Ted is able to jump great distances and sometimes even float through the air with the help of air currents. Sub Power: Teddy Bear mimicry: His body is in the form of a teddy bear. This power is always active and the effect is permanent. Personality: Ted is very straight forward and always prefers a directly solution to a problem instead of complex and manipulative means. He is quick to anger and has a very crude sense of humor. His views on good and evil are based upon the actions of those he sees and whether he feels that what they did is wrong. He is not someone who uses a doctrine or ideology to shape his morality. Even though people describe him as a pessimist and a skeptic, Ted prefers to consider himself a realist. Politically he considers himself a social libertarian and a constitutionalist. He believes that freedom and the constitution should always come first over security unless a threat poses a great danger to his culture such as fascists ideologies. He is a huge supporter of the first and second amendment. He can't stand thought policing and believes that a person has a right to express whatever they want without fear. His humor is politically incorrect and believes that facts don't about a person's feelings. He also despises socialism and communism. For him democratic capitalism is the end all be all of economics. Despite his crude humor and hardcore attitude, Ted is smart enough to make good financial choices and live a decent middle class life. Finally he is very loyal to his allies and friends, but he will always remember a person who tricked him into agreeing something he doesn't like. He is not very forgiving of those who have double crossed him History: Ted was born as a normal human and lived a normal life. He did good in school and had friends and a loving family. But all that changed when his mutant powers activated while he was in high school. His body changed from that of a human to a teddy bear. This new change was the greatest shock of his life and his parents decided to take him out of school and home school him from then on. He explored his powers and realized that he had access to incredible powers. With these new powers Ted decided that he would become a hero and fight for his kind of justice. He took on the name Bear Commando and started off his hero career. Everything was good until Ted had a run in with the Voodoo Man and his super-powered goons. With his terrible powers he was able to harm people that Ted cared about. From then on Ted swore to take down Voodoo Man and his group of villains. He was approached by a group called Generation X and offered a spot on the team. Even though he didn't really like the thought of being on a team, Ted knew that he would need help to take down the Voodoo Man. Other:

Le maire n'a pas mis trop de temps avec son équipe! mais même avec la douceur du court-circuit, Molly était ennuyée. Ce clown était une machine de propagande. Courir sa bouche comme ça à propos de M. Voodoo. Big V ne voudrait pas que ce bozo se batte la mâchoire et dise son nom en vain, ce qui signifiait que M. Mayor devait mourir. Comme, tôt ou tard. C'était une tâche honorable dont elle s'était chargée. Bien sûr, ce n'était pas le moment. Si Molly l'exécutait au bon nom de M. V, tous ces autres pupey-dupey l'appréhenderaient. Il est regrettable que les autres "mutants" boivent cette aide à l'établissement. Peut-être que quelques-uns d'entre eux verraient l'erreur de leurs manières. Sinon, ils devraient mourir. Ce qui n'était pas un problème. Les gens meurent tout le temps. En étudiant la liste des noms, Molly a dû admettre que la sienne était plutôt intelligente. Comme un MP3 n'est pas la chose la plus à jour en termes de technologie de jeu de musique, mais le "M" a probablement été lancé là-dedans pour Molly. Comme c'est mignon. Elle s'attendait à ce que le nom de code soit extrêmement boiteux, mais il s'est avéré que c'était un gardien. Molly a laissé un petit sourire se briser dans son schowl pour un bref moment avant de revenir à une expression qui traduisait un manque d'intérêt. Elle s'est serrée et a mis son casque en jouant "Fly Like An Eagle". Elle avait déjà testé la chanson quelques fois, et heureusement, elle ne forme pas un vrai aigle. Elle prend l'air et vole. Elle jure qu'elle ressent quelque chose dans ses os quand il commence à jouer, comme si sa structure corporelle change, mais c'est probablement juste de la paranoïa. Molly s'est mise dans le ciel, avec la chanson du Steve Miller Band qui souffle dans ses oreilles. Sa capacité de vol était faible, mais c'est fait. Elle débarqua moins que sans défaut dans Good Grove Park, trébuchant une fois qu'elle toucha à une zone herbeuse. "Woahhh agh!" Molly faceplantée dans l'herbe. "Ouh." Elle s'est poussée et a craché de la terre, arpentant la région après, en partie pour s'assurer que personne n'a vu ce qui s'est passé et surtout pour voir ce qui se passait. De toute évidence, les citoyens étaient hantés par certains perdants de la création alimentaire. Des perdants non identifiés de la création d'aliments. "Les U.F.C.T.L.." Molly murmurait silencieusement à elle-même en se moquant d'admiration. Elle a pris une profonde inspiration, a vu le chaos qui était créé par cette grande dame laide déjeuner, et n'était pas exactement sûr comment procéder. Elle s'est souvenue du discours du maire sur le fait de travailler ensemble pour abattre le méchant. C'est là qu'elle a une ampoule : je vais gagner leur confiance et les descendre de l'intérieur! Elle a réfléchi, souriant. "Molly, tu es un génie," elle se frotta les mains avec enthousiasme avant de fixer dans la direction de la source de la nourriture maléfique, "Il est temps d'aller faire un di—Qu'est-ce que c'est que ça?" Molly est tombée à l'envers dans la peur quand un monstre de loup-garou est entré dans sa vision. Il mangeait dans une poubelle... menaçante. Complètement ignorant que Mongrel était en fait sa « camarade d'équipe » Kimberly, Molly a supposé que la bête était en cahoots avec les démons de la nourriture et a décidé que c'était là qu'elle ferait sa première impression et infiltrer leur « confiance ». Elle a sorti son téléphone et a sélectionné une musique instrumentale badass de Hans Zimmer. Elle a planté ses pieds et a émis un cri de guerrier, qui avec le pouvoir de la musique, a créé une puissante onde sonore qui a fait exploser Mongrel et les ordures peuvent reculer dix mètres. "Oui, prends ça, sale loup! Au nom de la loi et des choses!" Elle ne s'inquiétait même pas du vrai combat qui était Potluck et de ses horribles minions alimentaires. La forme effrayante que Kimberly avait prise a capté toute son attention, et Molly — ne sachant pas qu'ils étaient du même côté — a décidé d'agir. Et elle espérait vraiment que la bête effrayante resterait à terre.

Real Name: Richard Scott Nickname(s): Dick, Scotty, Karate bugman Hero Name: Kickhopper Gender: Male Age: 17 Sexuality: Heterosexual Weapon(s): Steel bat Main Power: While not exactly having powers, Richard instead has a very powerful tool on his position that he “Borrowed” from Doctor Tanas. Insect armor: when pressing the big red button on his belt, a grasshopper themed armor surrounds him. While the armor may not be able to stop most military grade weapons from piercing Richard to shreds it can stop most civilian weapons and melee with only a few dents as the result. The armor also enhances his strength and jumping range, making him able to challenge Olympic athletes strength wise; his jumping height easily reaches 2.5m. Sub Power: CLOCK UP: The all or nothing final attack that kickhopper possesses (even though Richard doesn't know about it yet) by pulling the lever that is between the legs of the grasshopper buckle, the belt will begin emitting electricity that travels all around the armor, eventually concentrating on the right foot, making it capable of seriously burning the things it kicks. It also raises the speed of the wearer to muzzle velocity, which combined with the electrified kick can lead to a deadly surprise attack. Now it's not devoid of downsides: firstly entering clock up is a taxing process for both the user and the belt, most times breaking the transformation after being used and leaving the user exhausted. Lastly to prevent extensive damage to the belt, clock up has an imposed limit of 10 seconds before the effects of clock up turn off. Personality: One may consider Richard to be a naive person, since he assumes most people have good intentions at heart. Richard tends to see things in black and white, with the middle ground not existing and him being on the good side. This combined with his tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, makes it very difficult to change his opinions. On the good things about him, he has a strong sense of “justice” and is adamant about helping people he considers innocent. History: Richard didn't had many friends growing up and was constantly bullied at school for it, at first taunting him about his loneliness then escalating into beatings. Telling the teachers only delayed the inevitable for a few days and his parents were always too busy to hear his problems at school, his solution to his problem would come when he was watching “Power riders” his favorite show on TV. If he couldn't make them stop with words or by calling the authority he would have to teach them the meaning of JUSTICE and PEACE by force. It took a few tries and injuries but Richard was able to teach those bullies the meaning of justice after beating them. Surprisingly it worked quite well, who knew that a bat would be a perfect teaching tool? The bullies would stop pestering him after that, though he would gain a quite infamous reputation. Richard only started to care about it when other students came to him to prove the veracity of his reputation. Some wanted to fight him, others wanted help with their problems and despite him initially wanting nothing to do with their needs and wants, he eventually came to like it, as if he was like the heroes he watched. One day an old man in a lab coat approached him after school, identifying himself as Dr. Tanas he offered a part time job to Richard as a security guard of his laboratory, as some teenaagers were causing trouble in there. Not having anything interesting to do in the evenings and wanting to earn some money on his own he accepted. The laboratory was in the slums of the city, many floors underground of a local pharmacy. He was granted a very strange skin-tight uniform, making Richard think that either the doctor had a strange fetish of he had a horrible sense of fashion. Nothing really happened on his shifts, he spent his time at the job looking at his phone while Dr. Tanas was working on his private room. Other guys were there but everytime he tried to talk them they only responded with “EEEEEE” which apart from the maniac laugh that was heard once in awhile from the Doctor​ where the only sounds in the laboratory. Feeling that he was wasting his time, Richard decided to quit his job. Coming back to the lab at the hour his shift ended to tell Elvid that he was quitting, Richard found the lab in tatters,broken furniture and traces of small fires were present in the laboratory. No traces of the other guys or Dr. Tanas appeared as he aproached the private room of Tanas, where he found three suited guys looking for something on the room. They probably were the teenagers that Dr. Tanas had talked him about, the question was how did they were able to cause this much damage? Giving them a closer look, he noticed their similarity to the protagonists of the power rider series, were they real power riders or just thieves with a cosplay motif? Before he could make any action the men noticed him and began to approach slowly, which Richard took advantage and decided to run as they shouted to him that they were heroes and he didn't need to be scared, which sounded exactly like the thing a bad guy would say. Richard ran through the lab looking for something to beat the crap out of them. Opening the drawers of the small kitchen the lab had, Richard looked for something pointy to defend itself with, instead he found himself with a strange belt with an insect shaped buckle, covered in food stains likely that the Doctor had been working on it while eating. While looking at it, the three men managed to catch up with him, this time keeping their distance. Taking off their wrist braces their suits disappeared in a flash of smoke revealing three men with similar age to him. Still keeping their distance the men explained Richard that they were warriors of justice, tasked by a giant hologram head to defeat Dr. Satan before he used his evil technology to… And that's all that Richard heard before he figured out how to activate the buckle, transform and beat them up before they transformed. Richard didn't know how they expected him to believe some ridiculous story, a doctor named Satan? A giant hologram giving teenagers superpowered armor? but the most damning fact was the lack of a red member of the team of transforming heroes. The lack of any body or evidence could mean that Dr. Tanas escaped though he could only hope for it, feeling pity for him as he was falsely accused of trying to conquer the world just because he had a strange name. Checking in the pockets of the men for something to see if they hadn't taken anything valuable, Richard found instead a letter inviting them to the city hall, to form a group to protect the city from some “Voodoo man”. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place as he finished reading the letter, clearly the voodoo man had brainwashed them to attack the innocent Dr. Tanas. Richard decided to take their place since they were already brainwashed, took their letters and left with the insect belt. Other:

Neo Priya "Fièvre" Après que certains des autres avaient vérifié la feuille pour voir ce que leurs surnoms étaient Neo lui-même est allé voir ce qu'ils lui avaient donné. Ce n'est pas comme s'il était un héros de toute façon, mais il serait intéressant de voir quel genre de nom ils avaient pour lui. En scannant son nom Neo était confus qu'il ne l'ait pas vu là-bas. Il a supposé que s'ils l'avaient invité à la réunion de ce héros, ils lui auraient aussi donné un surnom. Il a fait de son mieux pour garder ses traces couvertes comme un méchant aussi bien, donc ce n'était pas comme s'il avait un surnom pour ça non plus. En sautant à travers la liste pour trouver son nom, et en regardant dessus une fois de plus pour s'assurer qu'il ne l'a pas manqué Neo a claqué les papiers sur le bureau. Il est ensuite sorti de l'hôtel de ville parce que tout le monde partait pour faire sa première mission officielle de groupe, et a commencé à marcher vers Grove Park. Neo a fait quelques pas, mais s'est rendu compte que le parc de bosquets n'était pas près de la région. En sortant son téléphone portable Neo a accédé à MAPS pour comprendre combien de temps il faudrait pour arriver à ce parc en marchant. "45 minutes?" Cliquez sur l'option de transport en commun Neo huffed à combien de temps il lui faudrait encore pour se rendre au parc. "D'ici là, ces clowns auraient fini avec la mission..." Il y avait une option UBER, et bien qu'il ne voulait pas avoir à utiliser cette option car il n'avait pas d'argent Neo a fini par obtenir un UBER. Je parie que si ce type m'avait jeté, j'aurais pu finir dans ce parc... Heureusement, un UBER était déjà dans le parking à proximité, donc il n'a pas fallu de temps pour que Neo fasse un tour. Comme il est entré dans le chauffeur a confirmé où il allait, et lui a donné une estimation sur le montant que cela coûterait. Neo a accepté, et le chauffeur a commencé à se diriger vers le parc. Neo sourit, et attendit que le conducteur prenne l'autoroute pour libérer sa puissance de feu. "Voilà comment elle va descendre..." Il a dit d'un ton calme puisqu'il avait besoin du chauffeur pour ne pas paniquer. "Vous allez aller aussi vite que la limite de vitesse vous permet à cette destination. Vous allez aussi me donner un laissez-passer gratuit pour cette balade, okay?" Le conducteur le regarda comme s'il plaisantait alors Neo sortit sa main de sa poche de pull, ferma un œil et tenait une boule de feu dans sa paume. "J'ai dit, vous allez conduire aussi vite que la limite de vitesse vous permet à cette destination, et vous allez aussi me donner un laissez-passer gratuit pour ce seul tour, AlRight?" Il a dit les derniers mots comme la boule de feu a changé une couleur bleu terne. Neo a aussi mis sa main près du côté droit des hommes de son corps pour lui faire savoir que ce n'était pas une illusion. Le pilote a gagné, mais a suivi les instructions de Neo. Alors qu'il s'arrêtait brusquement au parking des parcs, Neo ouvrit son autre œil, et frappa l'épaule des hommes. L'homme a sauté à l'endroit où il s'est cogné la tête sur le plafond de la voiture, donc Neo a ri. "Merci pour le tour gratuit, et je vais m'assurer de mettre dans une grande critique pour votre conduite!" En sortant de la voiture, Neo a regardé de nouveau pour dire une dernière chose. "En outre, si vous dites un mot de ce que vous avez vu, je vais vous dire, AND GiVe YoU yOUR PuNiShMenT." Alors claqué la porte. Honnêtement, il aurait souhaité ne pas s'être retourné à ce qui se passait au parc. Quelques-uns des héros de clown étaient déjà là sur les lieux, et à première vue, il était sans voix. Il y avait de la nourriture partout, et les citoyens couraient comme des fourmis surprises. C'était une scène inoubliable pour le moins. Neo s'est un peu frotté au travail qu'il allait devoir faire, mais le maire a dit qu'ils seraient payés pour leurs services. Il avait besoin d'argent, pour qu'il fasse ce qu'il pouvait pour sauver ces... civils. En voyant ce qui s'était passé avec l'homme du serpent, Neo a pensé qu'il aurait été préférable qu'il le trouve dans son cœur pour l'aider. Courir vers le serpent Neo s'est arrêté instantanément quand les macaronis lui ont été jetés de l'air. Il a regardé vers le haut pour voir ce qui ressemblait à une créature alimentaire... Monster... Thing? Quoi que ce soit, Neo a fermé l'œil et libéré de la glace à la prochaine boule de macaroni. Alors qu'il gelait, il s'est rapidement mis en position de le remettre en l'air. Ce qui monte doit descendre, et le ballon de macaroni glacé est monté sur une voiture de civils. Neo siffla sur les dégâts qu'il avait causés, et continua à courir vers l'homme serpent tandis que la harpie de nourriture était distrait par la sirène de la voiture. Soudain, Neo a entendu quelqu'un crier à propos de former un plan avant de courir dans ce chaos. "Uhm", il a commencé à crier. "Ca a l'air bien et tout le monde, mais il a dit ça!" Comme il est arrivé à ce monstre Neo a changé les yeux, et jeté de la glace sur les ailes de monstres de nourriture. Sans oublier que ce truc avait une bouche qu'il s'occupait aussi de la glacer. "Déplacez-vous!" Il a crié d'avertir le serpent qu'il allait changer d'yeux. Reprenant un pas en arrière Neo a tiré le feu bleu des deux mains vers la harpie pour le brûler à un croustillant. La mauvaise chose, c'est qu'étant donné qu'il avait utilisé autant de flammes avec cette intensité, il n'aurait plus qu'environ 4-5 minutes pour utiliser de la glace avant d'avoir besoin d'une pause. Soit ça, soit utiliser les flammes bleues une fois de plus, mais il devrait sortir avec un bang pour que ça arrive. Briser une sueur Neo a enlevé ses lunettes, et les a jetées dans sa poche arrière. "Je peux déjà sentir l'argent ~."

Neo Priya ☻Nickname(s): Neoteki ☻Villain Name: Fever ☻Hero or Villain?: Villain ☻Gender: Male ☻Age: 21 ☻Sexuality: A-Sexual ☻Appearance: ☻Weapon(s): A simple glock gun. ☻Main Power: Neo has the ability to control fire, or water. He can never control both simultaneously, and only has about a good 10 minutes max for each element before he needs to rest. That is, if he distributes the power equally. If he uses too much ice, then he can only use some fire before having to rest. Neo is not limited to using more power than what 10 minutes gives him, but it does come costly as his eyes play a major role. Depending on which eye he has open decides which element he is going to use, and when he has both eyes open his power can't be used. Not only that, but if he uses more power than what he can use in 10 minutes his eyesight gets worse. ☻Sub Power: Neo has a light voltage on his skin that activates itself when his body goes into overdrive, and starts flooding it with adrenaline. This is either due to fear, or when he is ready to fight so be careful if a prank is going to involve scaring Neo because he can't turn it off unless he calms down either. ☻Personality: Neo is an easily annoyed type of person who has zero tolerance for spicy things. However, he does like to stack up on snacks, and likes to cause mischief when he's bored. He's the kind of person who will skip in front of everyone if he doesn't feel like waiting, but will help an elderly lady cross the street. He knows how to work with others, but doesn't ever fully trust someone. To add the cherry on top Neo tends to be a sort of a flirt, but never seems to want an relationship as he feels that there's no need for it. He's the kind of person who will act before thinking, and wing it. If someone gives him direct orders that presses his buttons, but he does like it when someone follows his orders. During the daytime he wears glasses, but at night he takes them off. Last, but not least Neo likes to lie therefore he is a compulsive liar. ☻History: Neo's mother and father were a super hero pair like no other. One had the intellectual ability to fabricate weapons from their surroundings, and the other had the ability to remember anything. His mother remembered all types of fighting styles, and his father knew how to create guns from grass, and water. It was an interesting childhood to say the least, and a happy one. He was actually the younger one as he had an older brother. His brother was a unique person to say the least due to him having 2 super powers that Neo was not allowed to know. Their parents had trained him to become a great super hero, but he however had not been blessed with gifts. Unlike his brother who attended a special set of schools for the "extra" talented Neo went to a normal school with normal friends. He would go home, and do normal homework a 3rd grader would do. His life had changed when he not only discovered what his brothers talents were, but also who he was using them on. When he had discovered them it had been too late, and therefore he would be thrown into a predicament that he would have never guessed would have happened. It was a Friday evening, and he had been allowed to spend the night at his friends house for the weekend. As a little kid he was happy, but as he grew older he realized that it was a strange situation has his parents never would have allowed him to stay at someones house that long. Though he went to a normal school, and had normal friends it was not for long. They moved often, and his parents had told him the last time he wanted to have a sleep over that he wasn't allowed to since they had just moved to a new area. This time however was different. On arriving to his friends house his parents had bought them snacks, ice cream, and a few movies that they could watch. They had spent half of the night having a good time before the kids parents would send them to bed in a pillow-made fort. It was a perfect sleepover. That is, until an intruder had broken into the house. If not for the loud thud that had occurred on the first floor Neo would not have woken up. He was curious to see what was going on as there were a few more thud noises. It was as if the kids parents were play-fighting in the living room like his parents had always done. All fair in game as they would laugh, joke, and in the end do a kiss that he always said "ew" to. He soon realized that the thuds were not play fighting, and that his brothers powers was not only stealing their powers, but by doing to he took their lives as well. He saw it right before his own eyes. As Neo began to slowly go up the steps in horror his friend had woken up and asked what he was doing awake. His brother reacted to the voice, and caught them before they could even run a few feet. In the end the boy, and him were taken by an "organization" that his brother had a major role in. Turns out that the trips his brother would often take were missions from this organization, and he was to take as many powers as he could and distribute them to children of super heroes whom had none. They were the only children that could withstand the powers force. There, he went through torture, manipulation, conditioning, and battling other villains in training. There, he would damage his eyes, and as a gift for making it as far as he did with the little eyesight he had left he was granted his dual powers. By his brother of course since he not only could take powers, but also put them in some other host. Later, he would realize that his own brother had killed his parents. It wasn't even a secret among the others in the organization, but because the trainee's were in a different facility they didn't know much of what was going on even outside the gates. Neo planned carefully, and in the end killed his brother whom was nearing death. It turned out that taking powers meant that his own life was shortened each time he used his own powers. His life had changed not for the better, but in the end for the worst. ☻Reason for Becoming a Villain: He was trained to become one, and figured since there was already blood on his hands there was no going back. His family was dead, and he was given powers that he was not born with by his own brother. Nothing he could do could make him turn away from what he had been through, and what he can't escape from. ☻Other: He likes ramen, and music. ☻Theme Song:

"Présentation, un Trio très étrange!" (Je m'excuse si quelqu'un m'a manqué.) Schéma de couleur pour le dialogue : John, Devan et Jayce Les Shenanigans du groupe étaient morts avec l'arrivée de leur employeur, le maire. Dieu Jayce détestait le gars... pendant seulement une seconde jusqu'à ce que la mention d'être payé entre dans ses oreilles. Devan, bien sûr, a hurlé pendant qu'il parlait. « Selon le montant établi par le maire, j'aurai besoin d'une partie de son chèque pour rembourser certains dommages causés à notre lieu de résidence... pour des raisons évidentes. » Jayce regarda et secoua la tête avant de regarder loin, encore une fois en colère, mais ce qui était nouveau. Après avoir quitté le sol, John a regardé le maire et a hurlé avec son sourire habituel. Jayce est bien sûr allé dire quelque chose à Violet jusqu'à ce que le maire se prononce, ce qui a fait que Jayce se contente de la retourner à la place. Le débriefing s'était déroulé sans heurts jusqu'à ce que la mention d'enfants fasse partir l'un d'eux pour la situation, gagnant un sourcil levé de Devan et John. Jayce d'autre part bouillit tranquillement. Bientôt, ils ont eu la chance de regarder leurs noms de code, dont l'un a énervé la pom-pom girl, la faisant se transformer en bête et décoller. Devan a fait son chemin vers la liste et a rapidement étudié les noms. Buzzsaw? En fait, compte tenu de sa vitesse et de sa finesse avec une double maniabilité, il était comme une scie à bourdonnement vivante. John eut alors un regard, un peu confus sur son nom. Il était vraiment comme Dracula. Il n'a pas bu de sang... pas qu'il se souvienne de toute façon. Bien qu'en quelque sorte il était comme Dracula, ayant suspendu ses victimes dans une position semblable à l'empalement pour qu'il supposât que ça marcherait. Puis Jayce est venu. "Krakken!? Qu'est-ce qui n'aurait pas pu aller avec un truc comme Morpheius? Qu'est-ce que c'est que ces conneries? -- Eh bien, en quelque sorte, ça va... juste Devvy-poo? Levi secoua la tête avant de regarder l'ours en peluche. Il regardait le nom et le visage qu'il regardait en arrière à l'ours. L'ours a raison. On a besoin d'un plan. Il serait mal conseillé d'entrer sans une sorte de stratégie de combat... Hé! Je ne sais pas comment vous voulez être appelé mais je suis prêt pour un plan d'attaque. Viens avec nous et nous en discuterons en chemin." Dev a offert à Ted une balade sur son dos pour qu'ils puissent tous aller ensemble. John et Jayce seraient un peu en retard, mais pour la plupart pourraient le suivre. Si Ted s'en allait, Devan ferait un clin d'œil à ses deux amis et ils partiraient avec Devan à demi-vitesse dans la rue, tissant dans la circulation avec facilité tandis que John et Jayce sautaient sur les voitures en utilisant la vitesse et le parkour. Donc Ted... j'ai pensé que ton nom serait juste une version abrégée de ce que tu es... ou que tu étais... De toute façon, moi et mes frères sommes des combattants proches, moins Jayce qui est plus un combattant polyvalent. Je pensais attirer l'attention sur nous pendant que vous et les autres vous réunissez pour former une meilleure stratégie tout en nous utilisant comme des leurres. Je ne suis pas opposé à cela et je doute que les autres le seront, surtout Krakken là-bas... celui qui a fait les pics de son corps. John est un peu plus du côté fou alors je le vois accrocher jusqu'à la fin et quant à moi j'ai de la vitesse et de la précision de mon côté. Je ne sais pas quelles sont vos capacités, mais je suis sûr que vous pouvez ajouter à ce plan bien?" Devan a laissé le reste du forum ouvert afin que l'ours puisse mettre ses deux sens dans et offrir des opinions au plan à mesure qu'ils s'approchaient du parc. Il semblerait que le chaos était le mot pour s'adapter à ce qui se passait au parc avec des monstres de nourriture volante et les gros gens les tirant des pots d'argent. Devan, John et Jayce sont arrivés avec (éventuellement) Ted au parc. Le trio a commencé à se diriger vers le centre de tout. Devan a retiré ses deux lames, transformant celle de sa droite en une poignée inversée. Jayce est resté au milieu, son dos a commencé à se transformer d'abord comme métallique comme les vrilles a commencé à venir quatrième jusqu'à ce qu'ils enveloppaient son corps, son bras droit remplacé par un fouet comme chose et sa gauche une lame massive. John a roulé ses manches alors qu'il apportait son couteau à bague à ses deux avant-bras, chaque flux de sang se transformant en leurs propres lames sanguinaires respectables. -- Je suppose que nous avons un plan en place, hm? John a jeté un coup d'œil à Devan avec un front surélevé. Devan hoche la tête. Nous allons leurrer pour le moment jusqu'à ce que les autres puissent se regrouper et, espérons-le, essayer de travailler ensemble. » De derrière l'armure biogénérée Jayce roulait les yeux. "En gros, on va baiser ce mec jusqu'à ce qu'ils arrêtent de se faire foutre? Dure merde pour eux... ils n'auront pas de coup sur le gars alors. Faisons ça." Et avec ça, ils ont emménagé. Mon Dieu, il est gros... Mon Dieu, il est gros... Mon Dieu, il est gros... Ils ont pensé à l'unisson alors qu'ils regardaient le cuisinier fou attaquer les gens avec sa propre nourriture. Mongrel a été soufflé par l'autre nana. Quelqu'un criait sur lui et... C'est des conneries... Pas de sens de la direction... Mon Dieu, il est gros... Devan a regardé Jayce. Détruisez les harpies et lui pendant que nous nous déplaçons pour le flanc, donnez-leur tout ce que vous avez." Jayce hoche la tête avant que Devan ne regarde John avec un clin d'œil et ils partent tous les deux courir dans différentes directions avec l'intention de l'attraper par surprise de derrière. "Bon sang-froid! Combattez-moi!" Avec cela, il a laissé son poing de fouet voler vers l'un des harpies, ce qui l'a fait exploser dans un désordre dégoûtant sur le sol. Il a continué d'emménager dans une tentative d'attirer l'attention de Potluck sur lui-même. Une fois de plus Jayce a tiré son poing de fouet mais maintenant a visé le pot d'argent que Potluck tenait. Ce ne serait que quelques instants avant que Dracula et Buzzsaw fassent leur chemin. Buzzsaw et Dracula avaient réussi à faire leur chemin en un temps record et chargé forwad de derrière, John à la tête de l'accusation. John lept up, visant la lame crimson à l'arrière du cou de Potluck puits Buzzsaw pointé vers l'avant, tournant à haute vitesse, ses lames dirigées sur les côtés de Potluck. Que Potluck les ait vus ou entendus ne serait pas clair jusqu'à maintenant.

Real Name: Johnathan Francis Ives Nickname(s): Johnny-B, Johnny Boy, John, Dickwad, Assweasel, Jeff (J.F), Serial Number 183348-529-S Hero Name: Dracula Gender: Male Age: 27 Appearance: Standing in at a slightly lanky 6'5", Johnathan doesn't seem to be much of an intimidation when weighing in around 150lbs but it isn't his body structure that is intimidating. It is his blackish eyes, greyish skin and eerie lifeless smile that rests on his face most of the time. His haircut slightly matches that of Devan's with the exception of the higher and tighter shave towards the top, allowing the middle part lay long and low, flowing slightly over one eye or the other, depending on his posture. Sexuality: Bisexual Weapon(s): 2x Boot Knives 2x knuckle dusters 1x Ring knife Main Power: Blood Manipulation (Hematokenesis): For John, Blood manipulation allows him to manipulate the blood that runs through his system in an external method such as the creation of blades, shields, spears and in an internal method by increasing the density of his blood to create a slightly stronger epidermis. However, he is only limited to how much blood is in his system. Sub Power: Blood Pressure Manipulation: As a by-product of being able to control his own blood, he has gained the ability to increase its pressure, allowing him access to enhanced speed and strength but not to the degree of others whose main ability is that of super strength or super speed. Personality: He has quite the calm demeanor despite his horrid past. Although, it tends to lean towards the creepier side of things with his slightly monotone yet upbeat voice. He never seems to have a purpose and tends to react on impulse, adding to his slight unpredictability. However, he is always up for a talk on intellect and abstract thinking as he enjoys things like that but in actuality he is slightly deranged so its more thoughts of a madman than anything else. He considers his friends Jayce and Devan as brothers and occasionally Devan as a lover, mostly to just get a negative reaction out of him. He prefers to follow the Fibonacci effect, spiraling out of normalcy in the hopes to find a higher enlightenment through reading and meditation. Training is important to him but he strays away sometimes, opting to watch the sky or something else. His combative side on the other hand is rather cold and ruthless, holding no remorse or regret behind every action as he sees every action as something inevitable, Something that was to come but only time was the key to when. Finally, should one ever truly rile him up on the battlefield, he does hold a sort of psychotic bloodlust that sends him into a frenzy, earning him the moniker amongst his friends, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. The adrenaline, the rapid heartbeat and the physical pain that accompanies battle makes him feel alive once more. History: All that is known about him is that Devan and himself were friends when they were younger living in Iowa. It wasn't until later in John's life when certain events began to happen did he break away from their ties and fell off the grid, only to return in handcuffs with cameras on him years later. In the span of 7 years he had killed 39 people, all associated with child molestation, kidnapping and murder. Devan and him have regained their bonds with each other and in the process a third companion who had recently joined them since the appearance of the Voodoo Man. Possibly one of the more dangerous individuals of the group, he had been on death row for some time before he was expunged of his crimes due to the Governments need for him. Although, he doesn't deny what he did, simply opting to refuse to answer. His backstory is of darkness, tragedy and anger, abuse and violence that he wishes to never relive but he does, with each kill, with each heartbeat. After the recent attacks from the Voodoo Man and an encounter with one of them with the shadow of death looming over him, he feels alive again so this is why he went along with the Government's project. If one is lucky to get to get close to him, one may actually learn of his backstory and what made him the way he was. Other: My mind tends to drift sometime into the vast space of my psyche... APPROVED VIA PMs Real Name: Devan Levi Marshall Nickname(s): Devvy-boo, Dev, Levi, Motherfucker, Asshole Hero Name: Buzz Gender: Male Age: 24 Appearance: Barely standing at 5'8" and 120lbs, this little guy adorns lazy sunken eyes and weary look, mostly thanks to morons one and two (John and Jayce). John's haircut is styled after Devan's but the difference being that Devan's hair (faded along the sides leaving longer hair up top) is much better kempt than his friend John's. His casual wear includes a greenish sports jacket, red shirt, tan cargo pants and green shoes. However, when on a job he wears his tactical gear. Sexuality: Straight Weapon(s): 2x Ninjato 2x Daggers Main Power: Super speed: His muscular system is a bit different than others, being very lean yet dense, allowing his body to move and react quicker than most and run incredible speeds. He has only once ever broken the sound barrier but has yet to do it again. However, due to this he now knows what he is capable of, but at a cost. To understand what this means, one must look once again at his genetic makeup. His heart beats at a normal rate, twice as fast as a normal human's would, but when exerting any form of physical stress it triples or quadruples in speed in order to keep up with the need for oxygen in the body and for his systems. However, despite having a body lean and made for this high speed maneuvering, his internal organs are only slightly enhanced to keep up with him so he ahs a higher chance of having a heart attack should he exceed too much force on his body, having come close to one when he did break the sound barrier. Sub Power: Adrenal Activation: In conjunction with his natural super speed, his body excretes extremely high doses of adrenaline from his adrenal glands, allowing him to see and react normally in the high speed maneuvering. It can be seen in his eyes as he cans a second, third and forth pupil, all registering what is happening like a high speed camera. Personality: Devan is (usually) the level headed one of the three and can be seen in his actions and mannerisms when talking to the other two. He is the leader of their group and it is apparent when he has to discipline the two. Devan isn't a very talkative individual, tending to give short answers or looks accompanied by shrugs, rolls of the eyes or simply walking away. However, he always on his toes, ready for what is to come History: Devan is aware of the Judicial system as he has been in and out of jail many times thanks to his violent past starting with a B&E in some yuppie's house. it had grown from there into pickpocketing, theft and arson though his arson consisted of mostly small fires in public parks. Funny enough his first arson charge wasn't even meant to be out of any negative emotion but rather to help out some homeless person stay warm. When his childhood friend John disappeared of the face of the world, he worried about his safety and had for some time. That was until he saw him on the news, handcuffed with the title, The Phantom Killer has been Caught. After finding out where he was staying, he made sure to visit him and when he did he slowly began to learn about his past and how messed up it had been, answering his questions about why he disappeared. The rekindling of their friendship would grow even more when they had released him after Voodoo Man's arrival. John had been given a chance to make amends by taking this villain out and if so would have his sentence expunged. As of now Devan is not only a brother to John, but a handler in a sense by the government. Other: Accepted Via PM Real Name: Jayce Pearsons Nickname(s): Noodles, King of the Tentacle Hentai, Jayce, Jay-Bird, Asshat Hero Name: Krakken Gender: Whatever he's in the fucking mood for (literally) Age: 25 Appearance: Jayce (usually) stands at around 6'3" and 250lbs making him the bulkier of the three. Thanks to his mutation, he technically doesn't wear clothing but rather creates it from his own body. Sexuality: Yes Weapon(s): None Main Power: Biokenesis: Jayce has mastery over his own biomass, capable of manipulating and creating it to whatever he needs whether it is for offensive, defensive, support or utility reasons. He is able to weaponize himself in order to defend his life. Capable of making melee weapons, shields, armor and other varied utilities, he can be a nuisance on the battlefield should one come across him. Long periods of time using his abilities will drain him. High doses of electricity can shut him down. Sub Power: Because of his mastery over his body, he has also gained as a byproduct increased physical attributes. Personality: Short-tempered, arrogant, loyal, trustworthy History: Jayce for the most part comes from a wealthy family that is somewhat dysfunctional as consistent fighting amongst the parents due to his very unique mutation that had in turn caused him to lash out in public, inevitably getting police involved in many incidents and the media plastering stories over the internet and news. This had gone on for some time until the appearance of the Voodoo Man and his minions were he had wished he had a closer relationship with his family. The Voodoo Man had taken his family and he has yet to hear from them. As being directly affected by the Voodoo Man, the government had asked for him to assist them, considering that his mutation is a bit of a dangerous one but knew of two others that he could get along well with. Soon after meeting up with Devan and John, the connection between the three grew. He hopes he can find out any information pertaining to his family and their disappearance. Other: Approval via PM

Mongrel n'était qu'un peu absorbé par son gros repas de la poubelle. Alors que Mongrel volait avec sa tête encore dans la poubelle, il y avait un flot de pensées qui se produisaient alors que le loup-garou commençait à fixer de nouvelles priorités car il n'était pas en mesure de récupérer en paix. Débarquement et écrasement d'un des bancs en bois, éclaboussant plusieurs plats alimentaires aux civils voisins qui fuyaient encore les lieux, Mongrel commence à pousser fort. Alors qu'elle commençait à se secouer la tête frénétiquement, il semblait que les ordures pouvaient refuser de sortir. Encore une fois, Mongrel a répété les mouvements, et cette fois, les ordures peuvent s'envoler et s'envoler dans une direction aléatoire. Les pupilles de la bête étaient dilatées alors qu'elle sortait, droulant de ses crocs en train d'évaluer la scène. Il y avait encore plus de nouvelles proies en plus de ces harpies construites de nourriture; mais ce n'était pas la cible de Mongrel. Car aucun de ces animaux n'a délibérément tenté de menacer la bête ou sa source de nourriture. La créature grondissait en voyant la créature qui criait plus tôt; elle avait trouvé le rat qui osait défier ce prédateur de l'apex. Câlinant à ses côtes, Mongrel a boulonné à Molly et lui a tiré dessus avec des crocs barrés pour s'écraser sur l'arrière de Molly.

Real Name: Kimberly Hawkins Nickname(s): Princess, Alpha Bitch, Kimmie, Kim Hero Name: Mongrel Gender: Female Age: 19 Appearance: Sexuality: Cute and/or Handsome Individuals Weapon(s): Carries Pepper-spray Main Power: Werewolf Form - Willingly or (usually the case) unwillingly Kimberly transforms into a bestial werewolf with vicious and brutish strength with which she can tear through metal, chew through bone, long leaps towards prey, alongside other such feats of might. Sub Power: Monstrous Mind - The mind of a Werewolf Mutant is an easy yet complicated subject, which is very devoted. As such it scrambles any attempts of telepathy to read or influence. Personality: Kimberly is quite simply put a narcissist. She is incredibly vain in regards to her appearance and status among others. Often she acts with perky and ditzy front in an attempt to gain sympathy, attention and good thoughts among peers. But this belies the impishness of her character, as she has few qualms about using people and then stabbing them in the back. While she is mostly in things for herself and could care less about others, she does seem to genuinely care about whoever is part of her cheerleading squad at the time. But that could likely be chalked up to that however they look will rub off on her. As the Mongrel her behavior is much more simplistic. While Kimberly could possibly keep the instincts in check, this hardly ever happens. Mongrel is driven by the primary goals of conquering threats and hunting prey to feast. These two desires are gone after through fairly simplistic means of asserting their strength to accomplish the single-minded goals the Mongrel has at heart. If clearly outmatched, Mongrel will take the flight option of 'Fight v Flight' History: Kimberly Hawkins was born in the lap of luxury near the beaches of Cali. Her father was a ruthless venture capitalist, and her mother was a no nonsense corporate lawyer. Truly Kimberly was born in a family that were excellent at demonstrating empathy. For the most part Kimberly was a latch-key kid who was free to do all sorts of things. With this time, Kimberly Hawkins plotted and schemed the way for her to become the absolute top of the social hierarchy as the family funds were not enough. That's when she knew she needed to become a cheerleader, the Captain above all the others. She spent countless hours training, learning routines and dedicating her body to be prepared for the craft. She breezed through tryouts with her skills alongside sabotaging any who could provide a decent competition for her destined spot as the Captain. Kimberly then proceeded to dominate her social circles and rule with an iron fist. But such acts of politicking were not enough to lead us to where she is today. For that we must learn about how she came into contact with the Voodoo Man's insidious ways, and how the Mongrel came to be. That time came again where Kimberly needed to show why she needed to be the Captain of the squad. However through horrible and most sinister machinations, Kimberly was outperformed by a new girl who just moved into town, clearly by orders of the Voodoo Man in order to ruin the sanctity of this organization and destroy their chances to win at the out of state competition. The coach insisted that Kimberly could still be Vice Captain. She snapped and transformed into the Werewolf known as Mongrel and caused a ruckus. She couldn't show her face there again or be a part of the squad, let alone lead it. Leaving in shame, Kimberly Hawkins swore vengeance against the Voodoo Man and all of his minions. Luckily her quest would not just remain the angry complaints of a teenager for she was found by the group of Generation X who were after the same goal. But of course their goal was not as important because they weren't Kimberly; still she'll take what she can get. Other: Generation X! Generation X! Let's go fight! Show our might!

VILLAINE: POTLUCK Potluck était occupé à fourrer des côtes grillées dans son pot quand une voix a attiré son attention. "Hé gras! Potluck regardait frénétiquement autour... Qui était gros? Il n'était qu'un gros garçon! Il a jeté un éclat aigu vers Veronica tout en jetant une autre grille de côtes dans son pot. "Votre nourriture est tellement horrible qu'elle a poussé des ailes pour qu'elle puisse littéralement s'éloigner de vous--" "Hé maintenant, ce n'est pas nic--" Potluck a commencé mais Veronica a continué, ne pas l'entendre. "T'es pathétique avec un cuisinier?" Les mots résonnaient dans l'esprit de Potluck tranquillement, le chaos autour de lui s'éloignant tandis que Veronica continuait à lancer des insultes. Il s'est serré le poing. "Est-ce que vous pensiez sérieusement que quelqu'un dans le monde entier voudrait une de ces ordures?" Les genoux de Potluck se sont sentis la semaine... si faibles. Il trembla légèrement et s'approcha presque de l'herbe. "Je parie que c'est là que tu as eu tes ingrédients, la décharge!" Alors que Potluck se cassait les mains contre ses oreilles, salissant la sauce barbecue sur tout son visage, il ne pouvait toujours pas bloquer le son de la voix de Veronica pendant qu'elle continuait. "La faim dans le tiers monde préférerait mourir de faim plutôt que de manger la nourriture que tu as cuisinée." Les larmes ont commencé à bien se lever dans les yeux de Potluck. Ses joues ont brûlé et le monde a commencé à brouiller alors qu'il reniflait, fortement, essayant de se maintenir ensemble. Sa fureur commençait à s'effondrer... s'effondrer sur elle-même sous le poids des insultes. Et Veronica a dit : "Qui t'a appris à cuisiner un rat d'égout?" "N-NO! MY--" il a pris une profonde respiration "--GRANDMA TAUGHT ME--" il s'est étouffé sur ses mots, toussé, puis ses larmes ont commencé à verser. Potluck s'est effondré sur son pot et a commencé à sangloter incontrôlablement. Son visage s'est tordu en une horrible bande de rides et de sueurs, de snobs et de larmes a flotté librement, alors qu'il se lançait dans sa marmite. Comment quelqu'un dans le monde pourrait-il être ce que cela signifie? Et elle n'avait même pas essayé sa nourriture... peut-être? Il n'était pas sûr! Potluck ne savait rien en ce moment-- seulement qu'il pouvait sentir son cœur se briser en un million de petits morceaux. Puis tout son corps a commencé à trembler... Potluck a cligné. C'est pas vrai. Son corps ne tremblait pas, c'était sa casserole qui l'était. Tout l'objet était en train de se réchauffer et de vibrer de façon erratique alors qu'il criait dedans. Un éclat de lumière blanche aveuglé Potluck brièvement avant qu'un porc-comme shriek n'intervienne à l'intérieur du pot. Il essaya de se libérer des cordes qui l'attachaient au pot-- un éclat de lumière bleue rayonnait du pot et stoppait ses efforts. Et là, ces mecs sont venus -- "Hey asswipe! Combattez-moi!" Un CLANG fort sonnait de la casserole comme il a été frappé par les tentacules en forme de fouet, étrangement refusant de se déplacer du mouvement, mais Potluck lui-même a certainement été frappé un peu d'équilibre. Potluck a jeté un bon coup d'œil à Jace et tout dans son esprit a crié FLEE. Il se retourna assez vite, trébuchant sur ses propres pieds, alors qu'une tornade de lames venait vers lui. Potluck a trébuché et a trébuché sur lui-même et le pot très peu gracieusement d'une manière qui a réussi à l'aider à éviter les attaques de John et Devan-- la maladresse très involontaire suivie de rouler autour n'était probablement pas dans leur plan d'attaque. Pourtant, il a pris un peu de l'attaque de John, ce qui a entraîné un peu de sang versé dans le pot. Un cri horriblement monstrueux sonnait de la casserole, provoquant Potluck, étendu et pleurant sur le sol, pour faire chaque tentative paniquée de se séparer de ladite casserole. Hélas, il n'a pas été assez rapide. DIRE BEAST ESPAGNE: BBQ RIBS BEAST Une griffe osseuse tirée du pot, se plantant dans le sol, avant qu'un sabot massif ne sorte, et bientôt le reste de la créature suivit. La sauce barbecue chaude traînée des extrémités des os pointus et des membres disjoints pendant que la bête prenait une position bipède. Il montait sur le parc à une hauteur massive de vingt pieds avec une lourde circonférence faite de chair torsadée barbecue. Une tête de porc était placée au sommet d'une rangée d'os désalignés, au-dessus d'une moquerie ouverte de la poitrine. Les côtes d'ivoire étaient librement exposées, aiguisées comme si elles étaient des dents, et elles se déplaçaient en arrière et en quatrième comme les dents d'une grande mare, comme si elles étaient prêtes à consommer tout ce qu'elles pouvaient directement. Deux grands bras, faits d'un étrange mélange d'os, se sont terminés dans trop de doigts pointus et osseux pour être corrects-- un troisième bras a germé du dos de la créature avec la tête d'un autre cochon pour une main. On pouvait voir un barbecue chaud bouillonner à l'intérieur de cette cavité exposée, qui avait l'air terriblement chaud, de la nature de la vapeur et de la fumée qui s'en déversait. La tête du cochon avait quatre yeux, des défenses, et un nez qui craignait de la sauce barbecue. La créature a fait un bruit horrible, un cri aigu de cochon, qui était assez fort pour résonner si légèrement à travers le parc. Rage rempli et prêt à faire des ravages, le BBQ Ribs-Beast stompé quatrième, renversant la sauce bouillante à chaque étape... Tout cela et il sentait toujours comme de délicieuses côtes cuites. Pour une raison quelconque, la bête donne l'ambiance qu'elle ne peut effectivement être arrêtée que si elle peut être complètement déchirée et il est deux têtes brisées. Une ambiance bizarre, hein? Peu importe ce que les gens pensaient de cette bête horrible, il était clair que c'était beaucoup plus dur que tout ce qui avait été convoqué. Oh et, euh, il fallait probablement qu'il y ait un héroïsme lancé dessus comme ça. Tout de suite. Pendant ce temps, Potluck essayait de ramper pour s'abriter sous un stand de barbecue cassé... toujours en pleurant mais cette fois-ci par peur. Il a repositionné le pot pour se reposer sur le dos, lui donnant l'apparence d'une petite tortue très pitoyable. Il semble qu'il était absolument terrifié par ce qui sortait du pot. - Veronica a fait pleurer Potluck. -Potluck a réussi à éviter d'être immédiatement tué en trébuchant sur ses propres pieds et en tombant. - Du sang et des larmes dans la cuisinière ont appelé un monstre de 20 pieds de haut. -Un BOSS BATTLE classe BBQ Cochon-Bête a été frayé. Faiblesses: Les 2 têtes et démontage. - Potluck est AFRICAID.

Character Has Been Accepted Via PM's with the GM. Rhyme time. Real Name: Unknown Nickname(s): Unknown Villain Name: Starless Knight Villain: BAD. SO BAD. Gender: Not Apparent (Any pronoun is fine) Age: Not Apparent Appearance: Starless Knight stands at an impressive height, towering over most people, and constantly banging their head into doorways (8ft tall precisely). Their silver armor is dull and doesn't look to be entirely metal-- almost as if it were made from something semi-organic-- and it's slightly warm to the touch. A large claw, spiked, acting as a form of shield, is what their left arm has transformed into. Their right arm ends at the wrist and turns into a lance from there, fully attached to their being. A mane of fibers extends from the base of their helmet, made from the same odd material as their body, which possesses the ability to act as a barrier or a whip to deflect projectiles. Two silver orbs glow from within the dark recess of the "helmet" which act as eyes. Every bit of the armor has no clear means of removal, heavily implying that it is part of the Starless Knight's body, instead of traditional assembled armor. A large chain with a dazzling blue gem is worn around the Starless Knight's neck and it is unbearably cold to the touch. Sexuality: HONORABLE! Asexual Weapon(s): Arm Lance. Arm Shield. Whip like "hair". Main Power: - Light Of The Stars - The lance can become empowered and glow a bright white making it both an eyesore and able to hit twice as hard as it otherwise can. It also has an advantage against shadow or darkness based abilities and can act as a pretty cool night light, if needed. - Coldness of Space - The chill of a starless void accompanies the Starless Knight's presence. When unleashed in full, the power of the gem worn around their neck empowers their attacks with ice based elemental abilities. The Starless Knight gets creative with the attacks-- freezing the ground, tossing around gusts of sub-zero winds, and even coating themselves in ice as an armor of sorts. Temperatures continue to sink in a large radius around the Starless Knight until the gem's power is deactivated. Sub Power: - Tough As Armor - Starless Knight's body is extremely tough-- made of a material that rivals that of titanium. This means it's definitely not impossible to break, dent, or penetrate. - Too Much Stamina - Running extreme distances, fighting hard for long periods of time, and not sleeping for days accompanies Starless Knight's abilities. They can become tired, of course, but it takes a large amount of exertion to do so. This results in day or longer resting periods. - Transformed State - Rumor has it that Starless Knight possesses the ability to transform into something else... hopefully nothing stronger than what they currently are. Personality: The honorable Starless Knight acts from a place of old school "chivalry" and upstanding morality. Constantly insisting that the evildoers must be purged, Starless Knight tirelessly hunts down heroes, meeting them on even ground and challenging them to combat. They don't like to take the lives of innocents, the defenseless, the otherwise helpless, and take a large amount of care not to cause unnecessary damage to the town or anyone's property. Starless Knight has been seen saving people from other villains on several occasions-- even going so far as to kill said villains, when their crimes were particularly heinous. As far as the Starless Knight is concerned, if you wield a weapon against them, you have declared yourself a threat-- capable of defending yourself-- and should either run or face elimination. They do not hold back their abilities when necessary and will use every ounce of their power if need be-- that being said, the Starless Knight doesn't believe in excessive force, dirty fighting, or "messy kills." In Starless Knight's eyes, your end will be swift, neat, and justified. History: Unknown. However, a peculiar missing person's report cropped up around the same time the Starless Knight appeared. It could be coincidental or related... depends on interpretation, really. (PM if you want to work out how your character may be able to obtain the details.) Reason for Becoming a Villain: Voodoo man dun up n wiggle waggle fingers mind control Behold Starless Knight, puppet of the Voodoo Man. Their intentions were once angry, spiteful, but good. Starless Knight was focused only on becoming a better hero than any others-- better than the ones that had disappointed the person they used to be. This made Starless Knight all too easy to manipulate into villainy. The Voodoo man offered them power enough to become a better hero-- power to freeze enemies in their tracks. The more heroes they defeated, the more Starless Knight's views twisted horribly-- No hero is good enough! All the weaker ones must be eliminated, else they hurt or harm those they mean to protect. So long as the Starless Knight is able to fight and win against heroes, they will continue their hunt, weeding out the weak from the strong, and crushing those up and coming vigilantes and do-gooders deemed unworthy. Starless Knight feels as if they will eventually be the last hero standing-- the only one capable of doing any good-- and then, only then, will the city and it's people be safe. Other: - Critical Weakness To Fire - Small exposure is okay. Maybe even standing in a fire... but being constantly heated for prolonged periods of time without any let up? You want a melted Knight? That's how you get a melted knight. - Lightning Rod - Lightning and electrical based attacks WILL hit Starless Knight with 100% accuracy every time. Prolonged exposure to lightning or electricity causes the same effects as prolonged exposure to flame. See above. - TOO MUCH HONOR - If someone yields to Starless Knight and begs to be spared, more than likely, Starless Knight will let them live, but only if they "swear on their honor" that they will abide by whatever Starless Knight demands of them. However, fool them once and you don't get a twice. Character has been Accepted Via PM's with GM's.

Richard Scott Le maire était enfin venu, et bien qu'il n'approuve pas la méthode de Richard pour se lier avec ses coéquipiers, il semblait être quelqu'un qui faisait de son mieux pour aider ses citoyens. En regardant la liste de noms, il a trouvé qu'on lui attribuait le nom "Kickhopper" qui semblait relativement approprié une fois qu'il y avait pensé, sur son saut blindé, il pouvait sauter très haut, ce qui signifiait qu'il pouvait frapper très fort. En regardant les gens qui s'en allaient déjà, Richard décida qu'il était temps d'aller aussi, d'attraper sa chauve-souris d'acier et de sauter par la fenêtre. En utilisant sa hauteur de saut améliorée, Richard sauta d'un bâtiment à l'autre jusqu'à son arrivée au parc. J'aurais dû appeler un Uber ou quelque chose comme ça Richard a dit fatigué de tout le saut. Enfin rattrapé avec ses pairs Richard a analysé la situation, le méchant était en train d'obtenir à la fois des dommages émotionnels et physiques de ses coéquipiers, donc il était préférable qu'il ne les interrompe pas. Cette gauche prenant les harpies restantes comme sa seule tâche disponible, mais avant qu'il puisse commencer sa tâche, il entendit un bruit de grognement. Ce son appartenant au monstre BBQ qui était apparu. Quelque chose de si beau qu'un monstre de BBQ ne devrait pas être utilisé pour le mal, il pensait à lui-même que son estomac grondait de l'odeur. Reprenant la réalité, il songea brièvement à sauter dessus et à la battre avec sa chauve-souris, mais la chaleur le fondrait probablement lui et sa chauve-souris avant qu'il puisse faire des dégâts importants. Un plan serait nécessaire pour lutter contre cette monstruosité, donc il a parlé aux héros déjà présents.D'accord, nous devons calmer cette chose de barbecue si nous pensons même à nous approcher, avons-nous une sorte de Iceman? Ou appellerons-nous les pompiers à égoutter cette chose comme Shamu éclabousse les premières rangées à SeaWorld et à la refroidir assez pour lui enseigner un peu de JUSTICE par la force.

Character Has Been Accepted Via PM's with the GM. Rhyme time. Real Name: Unknown Nickname(s): Unknown Villain Name: Starless Knight Villain: BAD. SO BAD. Gender: Not Apparent (Any pronoun is fine) Age: Not Apparent Appearance: Starless Knight stands at an impressive height, towering over most people, and constantly banging their head into doorways (8ft tall precisely). Their silver armor is dull and doesn't look to be entirely metal-- almost as if it were made from something semi-organic-- and it's slightly warm to the touch. A large claw, spiked, acting as a form of shield, is what their left arm has transformed into. Their right arm ends at the wrist and turns into a lance from there, fully attached to their being. A mane of fibers extends from the base of their helmet, made from the same odd material as their body, which possesses the ability to act as a barrier or a whip to deflect projectiles. Two silver orbs glow from within the dark recess of the "helmet" which act as eyes. Every bit of the armor has no clear means of removal, heavily implying that it is part of the Starless Knight's body, instead of traditional assembled armor. A large chain with a dazzling blue gem is worn around the Starless Knight's neck and it is unbearably cold to the touch. Sexuality: HONORABLE! Asexual Weapon(s): Arm Lance. Arm Shield. Whip like "hair". Main Power: - Light Of The Stars - The lance can become empowered and glow a bright white making it both an eyesore and able to hit twice as hard as it otherwise can. It also has an advantage against shadow or darkness based abilities and can act as a pretty cool night light, if needed. - Coldness of Space - The chill of a starless void accompanies the Starless Knight's presence. When unleashed in full, the power of the gem worn around their neck empowers their attacks with ice based elemental abilities. The Starless Knight gets creative with the attacks-- freezing the ground, tossing around gusts of sub-zero winds, and even coating themselves in ice as an armor of sorts. Temperatures continue to sink in a large radius around the Starless Knight until the gem's power is deactivated. Sub Power: - Tough As Armor - Starless Knight's body is extremely tough-- made of a material that rivals that of titanium. This means it's definitely not impossible to break, dent, or penetrate. - Too Much Stamina - Running extreme distances, fighting hard for long periods of time, and not sleeping for days accompanies Starless Knight's abilities. They can become tired, of course, but it takes a large amount of exertion to do so. This results in day or longer resting periods. - Transformed State - Rumor has it that Starless Knight possesses the ability to transform into something else... hopefully nothing stronger than what they currently are. Personality: The honorable Starless Knight acts from a place of old school "chivalry" and upstanding morality. Constantly insisting that the evildoers must be purged, Starless Knight tirelessly hunts down heroes, meeting them on even ground and challenging them to combat. They don't like to take the lives of innocents, the defenseless, the otherwise helpless, and take a large amount of care not to cause unnecessary damage to the town or anyone's property. Starless Knight has been seen saving people from other villains on several occasions-- even going so far as to kill said villains, when their crimes were particularly heinous. As far as the Starless Knight is concerned, if you wield a weapon against them, you have declared yourself a threat-- capable of defending yourself-- and should either run or face elimination. They do not hold back their abilities when necessary and will use every ounce of their power if need be-- that being said, the Starless Knight doesn't believe in excessive force, dirty fighting, or "messy kills." In Starless Knight's eyes, your end will be swift, neat, and justified. History: Unknown. However, a peculiar missing person's report cropped up around the same time the Starless Knight appeared. It could be coincidental or related... depends on interpretation, really. (PM if you want to work out how your character may be able to obtain the details.) Reason for Becoming a Villain: Voodoo man dun up n wiggle waggle fingers mind control Behold Starless Knight, puppet of the Voodoo Man. Their intentions were once angry, spiteful, but good. Starless Knight was focused only on becoming a better hero than any others-- better than the ones that had disappointed the person they used to be. This made Starless Knight all too easy to manipulate into villainy. The Voodoo man offered them power enough to become a better hero-- power to freeze enemies in their tracks. The more heroes they defeated, the more Starless Knight's views twisted horribly-- No hero is good enough! All the weaker ones must be eliminated, else they hurt or harm those they mean to protect. So long as the Starless Knight is able to fight and win against heroes, they will continue their hunt, weeding out the weak from the strong, and crushing those up and coming vigilantes and do-gooders deemed unworthy. Starless Knight feels as if they will eventually be the last hero standing-- the only one capable of doing any good-- and then, only then, will the city and it's people be safe. Other: - Critical Weakness To Fire - Small exposure is okay. Maybe even standing in a fire... but being constantly heated for prolonged periods of time without any let up? You want a melted Knight? That's how you get a melted knight. - Lightning Rod - Lightning and electrical based attacks WILL hit Starless Knight with 100% accuracy every time. Prolonged exposure to lightning or electricity causes the same effects as prolonged exposure to flame. See above. - TOO MUCH HONOR - If someone yields to Starless Knight and begs to be spared, more than likely, Starless Knight will let them live, but only if they "swear on their honor" that they will abide by whatever Starless Knight demands of them. However, fool them once and you don't get a twice. Character has been Accepted Via PM's with GM's.

Vivian - Sur une course La vie était bonne, c'est comme ça que la journée de Vivian a commencé. C'était toujours bien quand elle a réussi à sortir de la maison sans détruire quelque chose. Bien sûr, elle vivait dans quelque chose de plus semblable à un bunker caché que ses parents l'ont quittée. Leur vieille cachette comme il s'est avéré. Metropolis était leur ancien terrain de stomping mais toujours un nouvel endroit pour Vivian. Apparemment, il n'y avait plus de héros, donc cet endroit devrait être un point de départ pour le jeune méchant. Elle n'était là que depuis quelques semaines. Elle avait passé son temps à balayer les choses. C'est ce que ses parents auraient fait. Mais pour l'instant, il n'y avait pas de cible en particulier pour elle d'attaquer. "Laissez tomber." Ses parents lui diraient. "Apportez les choses et essayez de ne pas attirer trop l'attention." Bon conseil, bien que le vert méchant n'était pas beaucoup un pour être passif pendant très longtemps. Tout cela pour dire qu'elle n'a reçu ni lettre ni connaissance de l'ensemble de l'assemblage des héros et des événements qui se passent actuellement. -- Oui, un jour bientôt ils connaîtront mon nom. La fille s'est gigotée toute seule. Le dramatisme n'était pas son costume fort et la folie l'a amusée. Ce n'était pas le plan pour aujourd'hui. Non, elle faisait quelque chose de moyen aujourd'hui, en courant. Peut-être pas tout à fait moyen. Le long de sa course, elle avait déjà réussi à endommager un poteau léger qui se penchait maintenant d'un côté, causait un accident de la circulation, et poussait par accident quelqu'un dans un ruisseau en traversant un pont. Mais personne ne l'a arrêtée pour que les choses soient finies. Il n'y avait que le moindre frisson quand elle entendit les sirènes s'approcher. Quand ils passèrent, l'humeur s'atténua. En fait, il y avait pas mal de véhicules d'urgence qui passaient par là. Quoi de neuf? Y a-t-il eu une compétition dans cette ville pour le plus grand méchant? Attends, Duh, bien sûr qu'il y en avait. Après tout, c'était Metropolis. Ol' Voodoo Man lui-même l'avait déjà contactée. Comment dans le monde il a découvert qui elle était ou pourquoi elle était là a confondu la fille. Où en étions-nous déjà? Ah oui, les sirènes. Quelque chose se passait et Vivian voulait savoir quoi. Une autre voiture de flic est venue et elle a marché sur son chemin, tenant une main pour signaler l'arrêt. Elle aurait probablement dû le faire un peu plus tôt parce que le conducteur avait à peine le temps de se balancer d'un côté et a fait rouler la voiture. Sans aucun acte de gentillesse, la voiture s'est soudainement arrêtée car elle a été prise avant d'atterrir sur son toit. "Hé, pouvez-vous me dire ce qui se passe?" Bien qu'il ait été arrêté, les officiers ont été légèrement ébranlés. Le conducteur et son partenaire se sont rencontrés en regardant à l'envers un adolescent aux cheveux roses qui posait une question. "C'est quoi ce bordel? Vous êtes fou? Vous auriez pu être tué." "Pff, tu es bête. Tu ne sais pas... tu n'as jamais pensé. Tu vas me dire ce qui se passe?" Allez, n'aie pas toute la journée. C'est à ce moment que les officiers ont réalisé que cette fille tenait la voiture sur son bord en se penchant essentiellement contre elle. Cela a mis leur tête au niveau avec Vivian's mais toujours retourné. Était-elle une de ces nouvelles supers que le maire essayait de rassembler? "Il y a une attaque à Good Grove Park. Une mauvaise super capable de faire des créatures à partir de la nourriture. Ne devriez-vous pas être déjà là?" Se cogner la tête d'un côté Vivian avait l'air distante. -- Devrais-je? Un autre super en attaque, ça semblait intéressant. Son visage s'est allumé et elle a souri aux officiers. "Merci pour l'info." Sans une seconde, elle recula et laissa tomber la voiture, laissant les hommes et le véhicule se retourner. Elle voulait voir ça. Vivian - Good Grove Park Faire une ligne B pour le parc la vue avant qu'elle n'ait causé sa pause. Le chaos s'est manifesté. Qu'est-ce qui se passait? Combien de supers y avait-il là-dedans? Il y a un monstre géant de la nourriture! C'est un loup-garou? Est-ce que c'est un Teddy Bear Brandishing A Gun!? Pendant un moment Vivian vient de se tenir là, bras levés légèrement de ses côtés, bouche agape, et les yeux brillants. Cet endroit est incroyable! Qui même... quoi? Le choc et la crainte meurent mais la fille tremblait d'excitation. Qu'est-ce qu'elle devrait faire? Il n'y avait aucun moyen de dire qui était ami ou ennemi. Tous sauf le gars de la nourriture peut-être. Même à l'époque, c'était un peu difficile à dire. "Très bien Vi. Calme-toi. Ne t'en fais pas pour le moment." La tentative de s'empêcher de sauter dans la mêlée tomba sur ses propres oreilles sourdes. Je m'en fous. Ses cheveux étincelaient légèrement, elle poussait hors du sol et se balançait dans les airs. Son arc voulait dire qu'elle devrait, espérons-le, atterrir sur le gros cochon-fruit-monstre-chose. C'était le barbecue qu'elle sentait? Il y avait sa cible et elle descendait maintenant. Plus près, plus près, pas d'attente! Et elle a manqué. Elle a atterri dur dans l'épave sur l'un des autres stands du barbecue et tout le contenu a explosé vers l'extérieur dans une averse de débris. Ça aurait pu aller mieux. Se tenant debout, elle souleva un morceau de poitrine sur son épaule. Maintenant, elle a voulu être ici pour tout ce qui se passait avant que toute cette folie n'apparaisse, ça sentait bon. Il est temps de réévaluer... Non, toujours pas de dire qui est quoi. "Oui... Ne pas sauter dans ça était une mauvaise idée. Bon travail, Vi, ne vous faites pas vraiment de faveurs. Oh, et bien. Donc à ce stade, elle n'avait pas vraiment accompli autre chose que peut-être attirer l'attention sur elle-même. En parlant de laquelle l'une des deux nourritures restantes harpie a dû la repérer sur le chemin vers le bas parce qu'il a basculé et a vomi les macaronis fondus comme un bombardier de tapis. "Qu'est-ce que le fu..." Les cheveux chatoyants, les mots de Vivian coupés quand elle a été étouffée par la nourriture. Merde, c'est chaud! Même avec sa résistance, elle pouvait sentir qu'elle essayait de la faire bouillir vivante. Plongée dans la piscine de la cuisine mortelle Vivian s'est évanouie et s'est évanouie pour l'enlever. Elle a arraché un refroidisseur d'eau et a versé le contenu sur elle-même pour se refroidir. Le couvercle qu'elle a arraché a été jeté dans le prochain district. "Très bien, l'heure du jeu." En prenant le but et en lançant le refroidisseur d'eau plastique à la chose qui vient de l'attaquer avec le mépris flagrant de qui d'autre pourrait être à proximité l'attaquer.

Approved via PM with the understanding of not going overboard. Real Name: Vivian Sharbalt Nickname(s): Vivi, Vi Villain Name: Terror Hero or Villain?: Villain Gender: Female Age: 15 Appearance: 5' 2" with an average but lean build. She tends to wear body suits emulating her mother, albeit a lot brighter. The jacket is her own little flare. She is naturally blonde but dyes her hair pink. The yellow shimmer however occurs on its own and gets more intense the more her powers are exerted. Sexuality: Oblivious Weapon(s): Herself Main Power: Sub-supreme force and resistance: She inherited the powers of her parents but lacks the control and grace of either. Able to generate her own force she can lift and move ridiculous amounts of weight. Conversely she is able to resist almost anything making her neigh invulnerable and in some cases unmovable. These two abilities combine to allow her some oddly confusing interactions such as "flight" by generating vertical and horizontal force while resisting gravity to make herself essentially weightless. All of the above said she would be insanely powerful if she were more aware of her capabilities and not inept. There is also the fact that she has a finite amount of energy to use her powers that takes time to replenish. So prolonged use of her powers can leave her without the ability to generate or resist force. Sub Power: Willpower: The level of her force and resistance, while never actually going away, does depends on her will. While she can tear apart vehicles with her bare hands and stop a speeding train just by standing in its path her will is the linchpin. If she isn't paying attention or can be convinced she can't do something with her powers then she won't be able to, even though she is quite capable. That is why she could be trapped by a paper sack if only she could be convinced of it. Mind you that might not work forever, it is paper after all and she might just get out by accident, perhaps try something a little more durable. Likewise with her resistance, while she might not actually sustain any injury, her naive and gullible nature could allow someone to hurt or move her. Personality: Cheerful, playful, energetic, naive, and childish. Vivian does not plan things ahead and often acts on impulse. She also isn't the brightest which often shows when her impromptu plans go ary. She is often oblivious to her surroundings and finds that people trying to stop her laughably nefarious attempts to be ruining her fun. As such she will fight back or resist but is terribly clumsy and by no means a strategist or mastermind. Prone to child like tantrums she could bring a building down in a fit or become a new set piece of decor when she decides to stay put and give the silent treatment. Did I mention she is gullible? She is extremely gullible. History: What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? Vivian, daughter of two notorious villains. Crash, the man that rips through vault doors like they were tissue; and Steadfast, the woman that could be caught but never imprisoned. The union of which quite literally brought the house down... and maybe the block. Anyway Vivian exhibited her parents abilities as a toddler. You know how it's called the terrible twos, threes, and such? Yeah, that's where her villain name came from because she was a terror at a young age and the name stuck. Most kids when they run into a solid object like a table the table won, in this case the object lost and was demolished. Toys, forget about it. Everything was in danger of being destroyed and the only ones that could deal with her unbridled powers were her parents, so forget about hiring babysitters. And it was the fact that no one else could handle Vivian that lead her to grow up surrounded by crime. See she had to be taken along with her parents or who knows where she'd end up. It wasn't like walls could hold her. Every act of villainy she was present for. And when the girl refused to move, daddy had to move her. Or when she wouldn't stop running around, mommy had to hold her. Quite a handful to be sure. Imagine the uneasy relief that came as their daughter grew up and became more independent. Wiser, ehh, not so much. But it wasn't like they had to worry about her getting hurt. Now she is expected and allowed to do things on her own. Reason for Becoming a Villain: Following in the footsteps of her parents and the nice Voodoo Man told her she was perfect for it. Other: While she is potentially overpowered, I want this to be funny so she isn't going to one punch someone to death or brush off every attack. Most things she treats as a game and is seeking to have fun. She does not realize what she is truly capable of and I have no intention of her ever doing so in this RP. Think of creative ways to combat her.

Violet Riise Vixen de flamme Interactions: Ayant seulement ses propres deux pieds, il était viable de dire que Violet avait été en retard à la fête. Quand elle a finalement atteint la scène, elle bouffait et transpirait de la course, devant se replier et mettre les mains sur les genoux pour tenter de reprendre son souffle. La femme aux cheveux blancs se tenait droite, sifflant sur la veste collante qu'elle a jetée pour qu'elle ne pèse plus sur sa peau bouffée. "Ne jamais... faire... cette... merde... encore!" Elle a gâché, balançant le dos de sa main sur son front pour éponger la sueur. Violet a enlevé une bande de cheveux de son poignet et a ramené ses longs cheveux dans un poney, laissant un morceau traîner devant son visage. La brise fraîche sur son cou lui fit sourire alors qu'elle étendait ses bras. "C'est bien, ça va mieux. Maintenant, où est le... » Ses mots ont été réduits au silence alors qu'elle regardait le désordre avant elle. Pas de coordination. Des étals brisés. Les gens se battent les uns les autres, et pour couronner tout ça aux monstres géants de la nourriture et à un gros trou du cul qui se cache dans l'épave. "Tu dois te moquer de moi." Violet a pincé le pont de son nez, regrettant déjà de se joindre à ces conneries. Trop tard maintenant... Elle a rapidement évalué la situation. Des "harpies", un monstre de porc géant, du bain là-bas dans le stand cassé et un tas d'autres supers. La plus grande menace semblait évidente, jusqu'à ce qu'une harpie la fasse sauter avec—était-ce du fromage? Bien que Violet a réussi à sauter hors du chemin, sa jupe avait été teintée par le fromage et il a mangé à travers le tissu, faisant une grande déchirure dans les fonds déjà minimalistes et laissant une cuisse presque complètement nue. Mais le plus révélateur de sa peau n'était pas ce qui l'irritait. Rage semblait nuager autour d'elle, épaisse et mal sombre alors qu'elle se balançait les poings. "T'es... petite salope..." Sa tête s'est abattue, montrant ses globes oculaires qui avaient été remplacés par de petits orbes de feu brûlant. "Savez-vous à quel point cela coûte-t-il cher?! C'était mon p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit p'tit! Maintenant, vous êtes mort, RRRRAHHH!!!" Feu, apparemment de nulle part, tiré sur la harpie dans un bombardement de colère pure, la pauvre chose tombant au sol dans une masse de flammes avant d'essayer de fuir — ou plutôt de voler — loin de la folle. "Où est ton créateur, je vais lui faire une leçon comme tu l'as fait à cette racaille!!!" Des flammes sont apparues autour d'elle alors qu'elle se déplaçait, cherchant furieusement celui qui a fait cette monstruosité. Elle s'arrêta à court, ses yeux — ou les flammes qui les avaient remplacés — tirèrent sur l'homme qui s'était évanoui dans les ordures. Violet étouffé au-dessus d'enfiler le bois seulement pour s'endurcir de façon menaçante au-dessus de Potluck. "Etes-vous le cochon qui a fait ce truc?" En attendant la réponse, Violet a visiblement gribouillé ses dents et s'est cassé les doigts, tout prêt à éteindre les lumières de ce gars. Maxwell Weiseman Phaseur Interactions: En raison de sa capacité de «phasing», Max a réussi à être le premier sur la scène. Ses yeux noirs, toujours tristes, s'élargissaient au pandémonium de la nourriture et de la peur. Les gens criaient et s'enfuyaient, mais il y avait ceux qui ne pouvaient pas fuir la créature grotesque qui sifflait. Petits enfants qui avaient été égarés dans la panique et coupés de leurs parents, ainsi que les hommes et les femmes plus âgés qui ne pouvaient tout simplement pas s'enfuir assez vite. Il y en a tellement. Comment puis-je me téléporter assez vite sans manquer d'énergie? Eh bien, il ne pouvait qu'essayer. Bien que certains des héros ne travaillaient pas vraiment bien ensemble, c'était une bonne distraction pour les monstres de la nourriture que Maxwell est entré et sorti de l'existence, emportant chaque fois quelques personnes dans une zone plus sûre juste à un pâté de maisons loin du parc. C'est aussi loin qu'il pouvait les obtenir à chaque fois sans perdre son pouvoir trop, il devait le conserver pour le prochain civil. Mais même alors, son pouvoir ne pouvait pas suivre. Après environ 12 voyages en allers et retours, la vision de Max était floue et sa respiration était devenue de plus en plus lourde. Il ne pouvait pas rester comme ça, donc il est tombé sur un genou derrière un tronc solide d'arbre pour se reposer rapidement. Une petite fille, peut-être 4 ou 5, a traîné le lycéen hors de son délire avec un crik terrifié. Il a jeté un coup d'œil de derrière le coffre pour la voir trembler alors que la harpie demi-brûlée se préparait à tirer une explosion de fromage chaud grondant sur elle. C'était le même que Violet qui avait attaqué. La prise de macaroni a été arrêtée à court par un bouclier légèrement bleuté, une barricade à plasma projetée par Maxwell. Il avait sauté devant la fille pour l'empêcher de se blesser. Mais il était trop faible pour le maintenir, et le fromage s'est brisé pour graver son bras. "Ah!" Il a gagné, mais a pris la main de la petite fille et s'est téléporté juste un peu pour se cacher. En mauvais état, Max s'assombrit contre le nouvel arbre qu'ils avaient caché derrière, la petite fille effrayée alors qu'elle essayait de le secouer. "Monsieur?! M., ça va? Max a à peine hurlé, et a forcé un léger sourire, ne voulant pas inquiéter l'enfant. "G-... allez chercher, vos parents... C'est bon?" L'enfant n'avait pas l'air sûr, mais il hurlait et s'éloignait aussi vite que ses petits pieds pouvaient la porter. Épuisé et blessé, Max regarda de nouveau la scène dans le parc, et s'il avait l'énergie qui lui restait pour sourire, il le ferait. Tous les civils s'étaient dégagés et là où ils étaient en sécurité, et c'est tout ce qu'il voulait accomplir de toute façon...

Real Name: Violet Riise Nickname(s): Vivi, Leader, Psycho, Flamehead Hero Name: Flame Vixen Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: female Age: 21 Appearance: Standing at 5'4", Violet is short to match her short temper. Even though she has a very pretty heart shaped face with large magenta cat-like eyes, a small nose, thin brows and light pink-beige small lips, it can easily become terrifying when those big eyes light up in full-fledged fire. Violet is pale and is a fairly average weight, but can become very aggressive if you mention her round rump or thick thighs. She has long, wavy white hair that is dyed, her natural hair color being brown. She often wears skimpy clothes with a white flame on them, considering it her symbol. Sexuality: straight Weapon(s): Two switchblades strapped to her thighs and a shotgun. Main Power: Pyrokinesis. Can manipulate fire and create it out of thin air using only her mind. When truly furious goes into "Rage Inferno" where her whole body is covered in flames. Sub Power: None. Personality: Violet is a very unstable person. Considered bipolar, she can be very friendly and personable at one moment and the next be ready to rip you to shreds. She leans towards physical violence in order to get her way, and if she doesn't she will flip the fuck out. Violet is a very self centered person, but if you manage to get on her good side, she will swear by her life to protect you. Like with her gang, she might be rough with you still but it is with love, and she will treat you like family. Get on her bad side though... well, let's just say you'll regret it. History: Violet was raised by her mother, her parents being divorced and her father running off with another woman. Believe it or not, Violet was actually a good student up until her Junior year, where the school had a turnover and new teachers came in. She didn't like any of them, and most were real bastards to her, so she slowly faded out of school until eventually she barely ever went. It was also around the time her mother found a new boyfriend. Instead of going to school, Violet found another place to put her time and energy. A few years ago, downtown Metropolis was overrun with gangs that were constantly at war with one another. Most couldn't even walk down the street without a weapon. Sick of this, Violet started her own gang to set things straight, naming it "Devilspawn." Originally it was just a group of stupid high schoolers that acted as vigilantes and beat back gangs that got a little too aggressive, but as a few years passed and the gang grew so did another gang. The competing gang started a fight with Devilspawn, and when they went straight for Violet, she lit them up not with a gun but with real fire. She discovered that she was a mutant, with the power to manipulate and create fire from her own mind. The others became afraid of Violet and her gang, leaving Metropolis all together. The gang now is used as a sort of, violent neighborhood watch. Things were running smoothly, until one night all the gangs that had turned tail and fled came back— but with the force of the Voodoo Man. They took out many of the Devils, and this infuriated Violet, because they were like family to her. She swore revenge on the Voodoo Man for causing her 'family' such pain, and now searches him out to give him what he deserves! Other: Is the leader and founder of the largest gang in Metropolis, "Devilspawn." Their symbol. Real Name: Maxwell Weiseman Nickname(s): Max Hero Name: Phaser Hero or Villain?: Hero Gender: male Age: 17 Appearance: Max is a tall but thin boy, with little to no muscle mass at all and his height a little above 6'5". He has shaggy, somewhat outgrown black hair that falls over his matching black eyes that are always hidden behind thick lenses on a studious pair of black glass frames. He always has a somewhat sad look on his face, with a sharp chin and soft bone structure, thin lips and straight brows. Max is a little sensitive about his longer nose, as well as his pale complexion that always seems to lack proper blood flow. He always wears clothes that are a bit too big on him and seem baggy, most often seen in his school uniform. If you asked people what his best physical feature was, they most likely would say he has a "cute ass." Sexuality: demisexual Weapon(s): Metal-toed boots and metal knuckles Main Power: Teleportation. Can travel at maximum a few blocks away, and as far as consecutive teleportations, the further away he has to teleport one after another the harder it is. Just in fights, teleporting within a few feet he is able to do it much more easily. Overdoing it could make him pass out. Sub Power: By extending his palm out flat or using the top of his forearm to create a shield of plasma. It can only last for a few hits each, and can immediately shatter if it's hit with a full blast of another's power. He can only create one in the span of a couple of hours, and it is only about 1 and a half feet at maximum for length and width. Physical attacks don't do much damage to it. Personality: Max is a very quiet soul. He's fairly shy and soft spoken, often preferring to be alone than amongst others. He is often trampled on because of his passivity but Max never complains about it. He is respectful and kind, and will help others as long as he doesn't have to interact with them. History: Max has been second place his entire life. Always a straight B student, the second child, the silver trophy winner in everything he attempted— he never could win first place. His mother and father were devoted to his older brother and completely bypassed little Max, never recognizing his second rate achievements. He really lived a normal life however. A devoted student, though a bit shy and shut away from anything social, he really tried and never complained about anything. Max simply kept to himself, head down. And just like any teen, he had love interests. Max had a crush on this girl named Amber for two years of school, but never attempted to talk to her. Walking home from school one day, Amber was looking at her phone and walked out in front of a bus that was driving too fast down the road. Max, without thinking, ran out and grabbed her. But, suddenly, they were on the other side of the road. Passerby were shocked, whispering to each other about the weird teleporting mutant. Amber was scared of him, even though he had saved her, and ran away to avoid him completely at school. Max was heartbroken. But he didn't complain. He later found out that those who had whispered around them at the corner were not normal passerby. They were puppets of the Voodoo Man, seeking to torment the innocent mutant. Max wasn't angry, but he was upset. He wanted to defeat the Voodoo Man, not for himself, but so no one else can be hurt like he was. Other: Cannot see more than two feet in front of him without his glasses. Senior in high school. Has fairly bad social anxiety.

Lei Zhang Slitherman ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Les dents de Lei grit alors qu'il regardait vers le haut à l'écaille, goutte à goutte de viande-bête qui était sorti de la chaudron. Il pensait que les harpies étaient une poignée, mais ce monstre semblait pouvoir nicher toute la ville sans surveillance. En marchant à côté de la personne avec la chauve-souris, il s'inclina alors vers celui qui l'avait aidé à repousser les harpies plus tôt. "Celui-ci peut utiliser de la glace, je crois." Il a répondu simplement, avant de s'arrêter quand il a aperçu une fille qui semblait essayer de plonger la créature massive du ciel en haut, seulement pour manquer complètement et s'écraser dans l'un des stands à proximité. L'homme reptilien clignait un instant, avant de décider de passer à autre chose sans s'en occuper. "...En tout cas, s'il peut geler les jambes et les rendre assez cool pour les toucher, je peux me constricter autour d'eux et, espérons-le, monter notre adversaire, ou au moins le garder enraciné dans un seul endroit." Lei offert avant de rétrécir ses yeux fente dans la direction que le chef rotund était vacillant. La femme qu'il a reconnue du bureau du maire était là aussi, et l'expression furieuse sur son visage a montré clairement qu'elle n'était pas trop satisfaite des événements actuels. Au début, il n'était pas préoccupé, ou peut-être même heureux que l'homme obèse allait probablement avoir un monde de douleur visité sur lui. Après tout, n'avait-il pas fait la même chose en nature, à de nombreux civils innocents? Ses créatures ont même essayé de mutiler des enfants, ce qui a mis le chef bien hors de portée de la miséricorde, aux yeux de Lei. Et pourtant, le "villain" en question tremblait incontrôlablement au fur et à mesure que les larmes striaient ses joues rondes. L'homme aux cheveux verts soupirait alors que ses mains gantées s'accrochaient à ses côtés. La vue pitoyable l'a forcé à se rappeler que le fait d'être un héros ne signifiait pas seulement aider les gens que vous aimiez. L'étirement rapide de son corps et le slithering rapidement devant le criminel en surpoids, Lei est ensuite retourné à sa forme normale alors qu'il s'est redressé et a affronté la fille chauffée. "Ne fais pas ça." Il a dit avec fermeté qu'il se déplaçait vers l'homme agenouillé derrière lui. "Je sais qu'il est responsable de tout ça, mais en ce moment il est terrifié, et battu. Si tu veux veiller sur lui pour s'assurer qu'il n'essaie rien d'autre, c'est bien. Mais je ne vous permettrai pas d'attaquer une personne qui est déjà en bas." Comme le disait Lei, ses écailles semblaient scintiller un peu. Il concentrait une grande partie de son énergie sur la production d'une nouvelle couche de peau, en raison de la forte possibilité qu'il soit sur le point d'être mis en feu.

Neo Priya ☻Nickname(s): Neoteki ☻Villain Name: Fever ☻Hero or Villain?: Villain ☻Gender: Male ☻Age: 21 ☻Sexuality: A-Sexual ☻Appearance: ☻Weapon(s): A simple glock gun. ☻Main Power: Neo has the ability to control fire, or water. He can never control both simultaneously, and only has about a good 10 minutes max for each element before he needs to rest. That is, if he distributes the power equally. If he uses too much ice, then he can only use some fire before having to rest. Neo is not limited to using more power than what 10 minutes gives him, but it does come costly as his eyes play a major role. Depending on which eye he has open decides which element he is going to use, and when he has both eyes open his power can't be used. Not only that, but if he uses more power than what he can use in 10 minutes his eyesight gets worse. ☻Sub Power: Neo has a light voltage on his skin that activates itself when his body goes into overdrive, and starts flooding it with adrenaline. This is either due to fear, or when he is ready to fight so be careful if a prank is going to involve scaring Neo because he can't turn it off unless he calms down either. ☻Personality: Neo is an easily annoyed type of person who has zero tolerance for spicy things. However, he does like to stack up on snacks, and likes to cause mischief when he's bored. He's the kind of person who will skip in front of everyone if he doesn't feel like waiting, but will help an elderly lady cross the street. He knows how to work with others, but doesn't ever fully trust someone. To add the cherry on top Neo tends to be a sort of a flirt, but never seems to want an relationship as he feels that there's no need for it. He's the kind of person who will act before thinking, and wing it. If someone gives him direct orders that presses his buttons, but he does like it when someone follows his orders. During the daytime he wears glasses, but at night he takes them off. Last, but not least Neo likes to lie therefore he is a compulsive liar. ☻History: Neo's mother and father were a super hero pair like no other. One had the intellectual ability to fabricate weapons from their surroundings, and the other had the ability to remember anything. His mother remembered all types of fighting styles, and his father knew how to create guns from grass, and water. It was an interesting childhood to say the least, and a happy one. He was actually the younger one as he had an older brother. His brother was a unique person to say the least due to him having 2 super powers that Neo was not allowed to know. Their parents had trained him to become a great super hero, but he however had not been blessed with gifts. Unlike his brother who attended a special set of schools for the "extra" talented Neo went to a normal school with normal friends. He would go home, and do normal homework a 3rd grader would do. His life had changed when he not only discovered what his brothers talents were, but also who he was using them on. When he had discovered them it had been too late, and therefore he would be thrown into a predicament that he would have never guessed would have happened. It was a Friday evening, and he had been allowed to spend the night at his friends house for the weekend. As a little kid he was happy, but as he grew older he realized that it was a strange situation has his parents never would have allowed him to stay at someones house that long. Though he went to a normal school, and had normal friends it was not for long. They moved often, and his parents had told him the last time he wanted to have a sleep over that he wasn't allowed to since they had just moved to a new area. This time however was different. On arriving to his friends house his parents had bought them snacks, ice cream, and a few movies that they could watch. They had spent half of the night having a good time before the kids parents would send them to bed in a pillow-made fort. It was a perfect sleepover. That is, until an intruder had broken into the house. If not for the loud thud that had occurred on the first floor Neo would not have woken up. He was curious to see what was going on as there were a few more thud noises. It was as if the kids parents were play-fighting in the living room like his parents had always done. All fair in game as they would laugh, joke, and in the end do a kiss that he always said "ew" to. He soon realized that the thuds were not play fighting, and that his brothers powers was not only stealing their powers, but by doing to he took their lives as well. He saw it right before his own eyes. As Neo began to slowly go up the steps in horror his friend had woken up and asked what he was doing awake. His brother reacted to the voice, and caught them before they could even run a few feet. In the end the boy, and him were taken by an "organization" that his brother had a major role in. Turns out that the trips his brother would often take were missions from this organization, and he was to take as many powers as he could and distribute them to children of super heroes whom had none. They were the only children that could withstand the powers force. There, he went through torture, manipulation, conditioning, and battling other villains in training. There, he would damage his eyes, and as a gift for making it as far as he did with the little eyesight he had left he was granted his dual powers. By his brother of course since he not only could take powers, but also put them in some other host. Later, he would realize that his own brother had killed his parents. It wasn't even a secret among the others in the organization, but because the trainee's were in a different facility they didn't know much of what was going on even outside the gates. Neo planned carefully, and in the end killed his brother whom was nearing death. It turned out that taking powers meant that his own life was shortened each time he used his own powers. His life had changed not for the better, but in the end for the worst. ☻Reason for Becoming a Villain: He was trained to become one, and figured since there was already blood on his hands there was no going back. His family was dead, and he was given powers that he was not born with by his own brother. Nothing he could do could make him turn away from what he had been through, and what he can't escape from. ☻Other: He likes ramen, and music. ☻Theme Song:

Neo Priya "Fièvre" Neo a sifflé du tout qui s'était déroulé. Non seulement un trio, comme il l'a vu, a libéré leurs pouvoirs d'une manière qui semblait majestueuse, mais une fille aussi est tombée du... ciel? Elle avait endommagé un certain nombre de choses, et pendant une seconde, il s'était senti comme si c'était de l'amour à première vue. Cependant, il n'était pas sûr si elle était un héros, ou un méchant. Neo n'avait pas le temps d'y penser car il avait entendu quelqu'un demander de la glace. Il allait se porter volontaire, mais quelques secondes plus tard, il avait entendu une femme crier. Pour voir ce que c'était, il a vu cette femme pratiquement au sommet de l'ennemi. S'il avait de la place pour cela, il aurait pu avoir une certaine empathie pour le méchant pathétique, mais vu que quelqu'un était sur le point de se faire tabasser par un héros Neo ne pouvait que l'encourager. D'après son apparence, même le héros est devenu violent. Cette seule pensée a mis un sourire sur son visage, et comme la femme a fini sa phrase Neo a envoyé quelques applaudissements. "Frappe-lui le cul!" Il a été de courte durée cependant que le gars qu'il avait aidé à bas-clé, un serpent homme, allait l'empêcher de libérer sa violence sur le gars triste. Une véritable tragédie, mais il n'allait pas faire un pas entre les deux s'ils décidaient de se battre. Ce n'était pas dans son intérêt d'aider les héros qui pouvaient difficilement être appelés ainsi. Mais, on ne pouvait rien dire de l'autre côté. "Hé", a-t-il appelé la femme. "C'est lui qui a fait ce truc, et je pense que si tu le tues, ils s'en vont tous. N'est-ce pas toi qui as fait ça?" Même il savait que ce n'était pas le cas car il avait aussi vu le monstre de la nourriture venir de ce pot de gars. Ils étaient leurs propres êtres monstrueux, et donc s'ils viennent de tuer les monstres, alors le gars déjà sur le sol a été vaincu. Mais, pour faire vraiment mal à un héros, ou tuer un méchant qui admet déjà la défaite? C'était un spectacle à voir. « Après tout, » regarda-t-il vers l'homme serpent, puis retourna vers elle. "Même s'il est battu maintenant à qui pour dire qu'il ne reviendra pas plus tard? Ou pire, et s'il bluffait?"

Neo Priya ☻Nickname(s): Neoteki ☻Villain Name: Fever ☻Hero or Villain?: Villain ☻Gender: Male ☻Age: 21 ☻Sexuality: A-Sexual ☻Appearance: ☻Weapon(s): A simple glock gun. ☻Main Power: Neo has the ability to control fire, or water. He can never control both simultaneously, and only has about a good 10 minutes max for each element before he needs to rest. That is, if he distributes the power equally. If he uses too much ice, then he can only use some fire before having to rest. Neo is not limited to using more power than what 10 minutes gives him, but it does come costly as his eyes play a major role. Depending on which eye he has open decides which element he is going to use, and when he has both eyes open his power can't be used. Not only that, but if he uses more power than what he can use in 10 minutes his eyesight gets worse. ☻Sub Power: Neo has a light voltage on his skin that activates itself when his body goes into overdrive, and starts flooding it with adrenaline. This is either due to fear, or when he is ready to fight so be careful if a prank is going to involve scaring Neo because he can't turn it off unless he calms down either. ☻Personality: Neo is an easily annoyed type of person who has zero tolerance for spicy things. However, he does like to stack up on snacks, and likes to cause mischief when he's bored. He's the kind of person who will skip in front of everyone if he doesn't feel like waiting, but will help an elderly lady cross the street. He knows how to work with others, but doesn't ever fully trust someone. To add the cherry on top Neo tends to be a sort of a flirt, but never seems to want an relationship as he feels that there's no need for it. He's the kind of person who will act before thinking, and wing it. If someone gives him direct orders that presses his buttons, but he does like it when someone follows his orders. During the daytime he wears glasses, but at night he takes them off. Last, but not least Neo likes to lie therefore he is a compulsive liar. ☻History: Neo's mother and father were a super hero pair like no other. One had the intellectual ability to fabricate weapons from their surroundings, and the other had the ability to remember anything. His mother remembered all types of fighting styles, and his father knew how to create guns from grass, and water. It was an interesting childhood to say the least, and a happy one. He was actually the younger one as he had an older brother. His brother was a unique person to say the least due to him having 2 super powers that Neo was not allowed to know. Their parents had trained him to become a great super hero, but he however had not been blessed with gifts. Unlike his brother who attended a special set of schools for the "extra" talented Neo went to a normal school with normal friends. He would go home, and do normal homework a 3rd grader would do. His life had changed when he not only discovered what his brothers talents were, but also who he was using them on. When he had discovered them it had been too late, and therefore he would be thrown into a predicament that he would have never guessed would have happened. It was a Friday evening, and he had been allowed to spend the night at his friends house for the weekend. As a little kid he was happy, but as he grew older he realized that it was a strange situation has his parents never would have allowed him to stay at someones house that long. Though he went to a normal school, and had normal friends it was not for long. They moved often, and his parents had told him the last time he wanted to have a sleep over that he wasn't allowed to since they had just moved to a new area. This time however was different. On arriving to his friends house his parents had bought them snacks, ice cream, and a few movies that they could watch. They had spent half of the night having a good time before the kids parents would send them to bed in a pillow-made fort. It was a perfect sleepover. That is, until an intruder had broken into the house. If not for the loud thud that had occurred on the first floor Neo would not have woken up. He was curious to see what was going on as there were a few more thud noises. It was as if the kids parents were play-fighting in the living room like his parents had always done. All fair in game as they would laugh, joke, and in the end do a kiss that he always said "ew" to. He soon realized that the thuds were not play fighting, and that his brothers powers was not only stealing their powers, but by doing to he took their lives as well. He saw it right before his own eyes. As Neo began to slowly go up the steps in horror his friend had woken up and asked what he was doing awake. His brother reacted to the voice, and caught them before they could even run a few feet. In the end the boy, and him were taken by an "organization" that his brother had a major role in. Turns out that the trips his brother would often take were missions from this organization, and he was to take as many powers as he could and distribute them to children of super heroes whom had none. They were the only children that could withstand the powers force. There, he went through torture, manipulation, conditioning, and battling other villains in training. There, he would damage his eyes, and as a gift for making it as far as he did with the little eyesight he had left he was granted his dual powers. By his brother of course since he not only could take powers, but also put them in some other host. Later, he would realize that his own brother had killed his parents. It wasn't even a secret among the others in the organization, but because the trainee's were in a different facility they didn't know much of what was going on even outside the gates. Neo planned carefully, and in the end killed his brother whom was nearing death. It turned out that taking powers meant that his own life was shortened each time he used his own powers. His life had changed not for the better, but in the end for the worst. ☻Reason for Becoming a Villain: He was trained to become one, and figured since there was already blood on his hands there was no going back. His family was dead, and he was given powers that he was not born with by his own brother. Nothing he could do could make him turn away from what he had been through, and what he can't escape from. ☻Other: He likes ramen, and music. ☻Theme Song:

Alors que le monde mortel se préparait à une journée de festivités pour ce qu'ils appelaient l'Halloween, les créatures mythiques de Fall Hollow se préparèrent à leur propre célébration qui était d'une tradition encore plus ancienne. Ils l'appelaient le Samhain ou le Jour des Morts. C'était le premier jour de trois où Samhain Festival est tombé, à peu près, à mi-chemin entre l'Equinox d'automne et le Solstice d'hiver. La puissante traction de la lune influence fortement sur les morts vivants. La plupart du temps, ce n'était qu'une nuit où les démons s'en prennent aux faibles. Val était à No Exit, dans un club du Meatpacking District, en train d'essayer de se fondre, alors qu'elle étudiait la foule, mais comme toujours, elle se distinguait parmi eux comme un poisson hors de l'eau. L'endroit était sombre, les murs peignaient un noir plat, et la seule lumière venait de quelques strobes qui reflétaient les cages métalliques. La moitié des gens là-bas essayaient de ressembler à des vampires, avec une peau blanche morte, et l'autre moitié essayait de paraître poétiquement effrayante. Le DJ jouait une sorte de musique house à un niveau décibel trop haut pour étalonner, et le mur à l'arrière était couvert de gens soit cherchant des victimes ou s'enfuyant. Ce soir, c'était juste une autre excuse pour les jeunes de s'habiller en costumes de salope ou flashy et faire la fête la nuit loin et la nuit de congé de Val. Puisque les plages étaient hors limites jusqu'à ce que le temps soit chaud. Elle pensait qu'un peu d'alcool et de musique la mettrait plus dans l'ambiance de fête. La sirène a traversé la foule, essayant d'avoir l'air d'avoir une destination à l'esprit et pas tellement comme si elle était seule. Elle avait trouvé un haut noir tatter dans un magasin, que le commis a dit qu'elle avait l'air "chaud". Le haut avait des déchirures dedans et un ourlet inégal, et il y avait un trou stratégique que l'une de ses adolescentes avait agrandi avec un ciseaux, coupant assez près du tissu noir gauzy pour révéler son bouton ventre. Puis, jumelé avec un jean serré qui a pris presque une heure pour tirer. Tout ça pour l'aider à se fondre dans la scène sauvage du club. Puis elle l'a vu. Il était comme le plus bel homme qu'elle ait jamais vu. Il y avait un tas d'enfants autour de lui, mais il était plus grand que les autres. Sa peau était du papier de riz blanc, bien sûr, et ses yeux étaient totalement noirs et entourés d'un épais eyeliner. Il n'y avait même pas de lumière réfléchie en eux. Ses cheveux noirs coulaient sur ses épaules et à mi-chemin dans son dos. Son nez lui a coupé le visage comme une lame et sa bouche noire semblait à la fois cruelle et sensuelle. Quelque chose n'allait pas. « Ne me regarde pas, ne me regarde pas, ne me regarde pas », murmura-t-elle, se mouvant à peine les lèvres, n'importe quel bruit noyé par l'assaut soudain de Coldcut. Et puis c'est arrivé. Il tourna légèrement la tête et la vit le regarder et ses yeux semblaient se verrouiller sur elle. Elle voulait partir et pourtant elle se tenait juste là, assaillie à la vue de lui. Le regard s'allongeait, son esprit n'avait que le moindre mouvement du corps de l'inconnu, un chemin s'ouvrait entre lui et Val et, en quelques secondes, il se tenait devant elle. La tête de Val s'inclina vers lui pour le regarder, son visage se sentit chaud et son esprit vint à l'aise. Les gens s'éloignèrent d'eux, donnant l'espace aux deux. Le regard de la peur dans ses yeux et les coins de sa bouche se sont levés. "Tu es un petit juteux, n'est-ce pas?" lui a - t - il demandé. Sa main se sentait chaude au toucher quand elle repoussait les cheveux qui tombaient sur son cou. Elle ne voyait pas d'élèves; tout l'œil était noir, et pourtant ils semblaient avoir de la profondeur. Val avait l'impression d'être hallucinante, une traction magique qu'elle sentait vers lui. un Insuccubus. Celle-ci a été la première qu'elle ait jamais eue. "Venez, Petit, et jouons", me dit-il d'une voix basse et séduisante. Il l'a prise par la main et a conduit Val à un espace vide contre le mur. Avec un remorqueur de ses hanches, il l'a placée devant lui, a glissé un peu vers le bas du mur de sorte que ses genoux étaient pliés, puis l'a levée de sorte qu'elle était en équilibre au sommet de ses cuisses, ses cuisses très fortes et très musclées qu'elle a aperçues à travers ses filets. Ses lèvres étaient au sommet de sa tête, prenant un renifle de son parfum. " Comme je m'y attendais, le sable humide, l'eau de mer, les coquillages et la promenade. Je n'avais jamais eu de sirène auparavant », a-t-il gâché. Elle secoua la tête, évitant ses yeux pour la première fois. La sensation soudaine de coups de clous lui donna une pause d'un moment, mais tout au sujet de la sirène était si beau, si encombrant que l'évanouissement de l'extraterrestre fut vite apaisé, jusqu'à ce qu'il sente son visage en feu. Cinq longues griffes recouvraient le côté de son visage, il lâchait rapidement sa main sur elle et lui apportait les mains au visage. Une expression sombre a traversé son visage, une expression de colère, "Je vais apprécier de me nourrir de ton âme."

Name: Valasca Del Viento Nickname: Val Age: 27 Gender: Female Sexuality: Asexual Panromantic Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Associate Title: Species: Mermaid Occupation Mortician Likes: - Death - Salty Foods - Her daily swims Dislikes: - Anyone who treats her clients ill - Being lied to - Sweets - Theft Fears: Have her establishment and sanctuary taken from her Personality: Now that Valasca’s been living in Fall Hollow, she finally feels free for the first time in her life. She doesn't need to change her name or hide who she is. However, despite that freedom, old habits die hard. Despite her warm and caring nature, Valasca is still very much a secretive and closed off individual that has a great deal of trouble opening up to people about who she really is or letting them into her more private life. This can make her come off as a bit distant, but despite that she is still never much a caring mortician that will go above and beyond for her patients. She is more than happy to take care of her clients needs as well as take notes on the various different species in the city to further her knowledge. History: Valasca was born in the murky waters of a town that was submerged in water to stop the flooding of Spain five decades ago. Unlike most pods who stuck to areas easily evacuated the pod Valasca was born to had a higher purpose, or so they believed. Valasca pod was connected to others who all believed in their own Gods that lived in the stars above, a world they considered to be a vast ocean. To make it to this place in the after life their role in the life they currently lead was to care for those bodies tossed off boats, thrown from peers to hide murders, sunken graves and mere accidents. They were to help these people move to their own afterlife. So when the town of Capel Celyn sank and became the reservoir it turned into their pod home, to watch over the graves of those who had now sunk beneath the water. The devotion to their religion was a heavy one. They prayed to a mermaid who was as big as the earth, she had formed the oceans with her body, carved them as she swam through the infinite waters of the life beyond, a world that rested on top of their own. It was not just her though, their were many mermaids, each representing something new. Interitus was merely the main one, the one who judged them at the end of their time to decide if they began anew, having to try again, or made it through to a new life in the waters above. Like most in the pod Valasca took her devotion to Interitus seriously, praying to her, making offerings and participating in the rituals of the tribe. One of the main rituals was the summoning of the spirits to bless them. It was the one that focused most on the deceased beings, praised them as those of a higher purpose as they were in the world beyond the one where Valasca and her pod rested. This was where Valasca's obsession with death began. Even the sea creatures she feasted on she treated with the utmost care, making sure their move into the world beyond was a gracious one. Things only escalated when she was sent to perform the ritual to adulthood. One of the few females who were sent out she was expected to return home for the future of their pod. Valasca didn’t. Much like the ritual of Rumspringa the mermaids were to go to the surface for seven evenings and return the wiser for it. Valasca instead found herself half intoxicated with desire and half sick with hate at the ease of access she had to death. The parts of animals that lay on display for others to judge and chose for consumption revolting her but then there were large homes, homes that looked after the dead, treated them with a beautiful respect and laid them to rest in exquisite manners. Valasca believed she had found her calling. Wales was nice for a while. Valasca trained as a mortician at a funeral parlour she found by the sea. Her hours were whenever someone knew came in and since the town was small she was able to spend as much time as she needed in the water. However she was constantly hiding and the rumors of people seeing a mermaid sprang about. Even cutting her hair seemed to make no difference. This was when she met a man, her heart still. Valasca's pod with their special connection to death she knew what the man was immediately. Valasca introduced herself - looking for someone in the town who it turned out had moved on - as a member of the vampire council in a town in America. He offered Valasca passage there but she declined, knowing she wouldn't be able to survive that long without water, and instead accepted directions. In Fall Hollow she took a job at the towns local morgue, the one used by police and most of the town since it was convenient. Unlike in Wales deaths in Fall Hollow were unexplained and with everyone's desire to dispose of the bodies in unseemly ways Valasca made herself open to all the killers in Fall Hollow. She would hide their mistakes and in return she could give them the treatment they deserved. Each body prepared to the best she could manage, prayers and blessings made over the body before she reduced them to the earth, sea or smoke depending on their own species or religion she could make out. For the most part she keeps to herself, though over the past five years she's lived in Fall Hollow she has spent a lot at local vampire hang outs. On Fall Hollow lies a sanctuary lead by young mermaid, for all supernatural creatures. The building attached to the funeral offers a place for non-humans to live free of persecution and follow what paths they desire, whether that’s as regular townsfolk and business owners, criminals and shady dealers. However, in return each tenant must work at the funeral. Extra

C'était la nuit d'Halloween, dans la plupart des jours, Saoirse resterait à la maison comme elle le fait normalement, cependant, aujourd'hui n'était pas l'un de ces jours. Elle a finalement été rattrapée par le travail et a décidé que ce soir était un bon moment pour sortir et célébrer. Saoirse s'est retrouvée dans un club local de la ville appelé le No-Exit. Bien qu'elle-même n'ait pas bu, c'était encore agréable de prendre dans l'atmosphère d'être autour d'autres personnes. Environ une heure après son arrivée au club, une certaine personne a attiré son attention. Un jeune homme séduisant, qui faisait des avances inappropriées vers une belle femme. Dès qu'elle a vu l'expression de la femme qu'elle connaissait, cette ordure a dû partir. Elle a besoin de chaque once de courage pour s'approcher des deux. "Hé bébé! Alors c'est là que tu t'es enfui! Je te cherchais!" Elle a dit d'envelopper son bras autour de la femme. Elle a regardé l'homme de haut en bas avec un regard désapprouvant, puis elle a embrassé la femme sur la joue, tirant sur l'homme un regard dangereux. Elle sourit ensuite. "Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, mon cœur? Ce type t'a engueulé? Hé, mon pote! Tu déranges ma petite amie?" Elle regarda l'homme, puis se tourna vers la femme et sourit. -- Sortons d'ici, oui? Saoirse a saisi la main de la femme et l'a conduite dans une zone moins bondée avant de s'arrêter et de se tourner vers la femme. "Hé, désolé pour ça. Je pensais que ce connard s'arrêterait s'il pensait qu'on était lesbiennes. En fait, je n'aime pas les filles... Quoi qu'il en soit! Ça va? Ce type t'a-t-il fait du mal?" Elle a ensuite demandé s'il s'agissait d'un problème. Elle rougissait embarrassée de ce qu'elle venait de faire et espérait que la femme n'aurait pas la mauvaise idée.

Name: Saoirse Clarke Nickname: Selkie Age: 25 Gender: female Sexuality: hetero Relationship Status: single and ready to mingle Gang Rank: N/a Title: N/a Species: human Occupation Freelance artist/painter, illustrator Likes: sketching/drawing Music Singing(she's actually pretty good at it) Sleep Warmth Cheesy love stories Affection Sweets Dislikes: Blood Guns Violence Coldness Physical activity Fears: Monsters from story books(even though she's never met one or at least she doesn't think she's met one) Blood The dark Personality: Saoirse is a very kind, warm, and gentle woman. There isn't a violent bone in her body. She is also very introverted, naive, and innocent and tends to be shy when you first meet her. However, it doesn't take much for her to warm up to somebody. She is a loyal friend and always tries to help out whenever she can. She, of course, also has a tendency to be quite lazy and likes to sleep when she has the time Flaws & Virtues She is innocent to a fault She can be clumsy She is physically weak and has low stamina She has a frail body She is a good singer and artist History: Saoirse's history is nothing extraordinary. She lived a happy childhood and had parents who adored her and a small tight knight group of friends. She was born frail and weak so she would get sick easily, which meant more time for her to persue her passions in life. At a young age, her parents could tell that she had quite a knack for the arts and that she would end up in the artistic field of work. When she graduated from college and embarked on her own, she decided to move to an interesting place called Fall Hollow. She hoped that by moving to such an area, that she would get a fresh start, a clean slate. She had hoped on making some new friends and immerse herself in a different area would be good for her health. Little did she know of what creatures reside there. However, it wouldn't matter much to her anyway. She currently lives alone, locked up in the little apartment she calls home. She has been living there for the past few years and has, for the most part, been shut up in her home, trying to catch up with strict deadlines. On occasion she will go out to explore the local shops and bakeries, that is, when she has the chance. Extra her name is pronounced as see-er-sha She has an Irish accent She has a very low tolerance for alcohol and tends to not drink because of it

"Pourquoi je pensais que c'était une bonne idée?" Jen murmura à elle-même : « Allez-vous-en plus souvent, disent-ils. Allez dans un club qu'ils ont dit." Elle était actuellement seule dans un tel club, connu sous le nom de No-Exit. Et elle était malheureuse. Elle était assise sur un tabouret à côté du petit bar, regardant impitoyablement la bouteille de bière. "Je pourrais dessiner en ce moment," pensa-t-elle, en prenant une perruque de son verre. Elle a regardé la porte une seconde, se demandant s'il valait la peine de partir. Ses yeux s'arrêtèrent une seconde quand elle vit un gars avec une fille, avant de regarder loin quand elle fut traînée par une autre fille. « J'aimerais que quelqu'un me veuille assez pour m'entraîner », se disait-elle avec un petit rire, avant de descendre le reste de la bière.

Name: Valasca Del Viento Nickname: Val Age: 27 Gender: Female Sexuality: Asexual Panromantic Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Associate Title: Species: Mermaid Occupation Mortician Likes: - Death - Salty Foods - Her daily swims Dislikes: - Anyone who treats her clients ill - Being lied to - Sweets - Theft Fears: Have her establishment and sanctuary taken from her Personality: Now that Valasca’s been living in Fall Hollow, she finally feels free for the first time in her life. She doesn't need to change her name or hide who she is. However, despite that freedom, old habits die hard. Despite her warm and caring nature, Valasca is still very much a secretive and closed off individual that has a great deal of trouble opening up to people about who she really is or letting them into her more private life. This can make her come off as a bit distant, but despite that she is still never much a caring mortician that will go above and beyond for her patients. She is more than happy to take care of her clients needs as well as take notes on the various different species in the city to further her knowledge. History: Valasca was born in the murky waters of a town that was submerged in water to stop the flooding of Spain five decades ago. Unlike most pods who stuck to areas easily evacuated the pod Valasca was born to had a higher purpose, or so they believed. Valasca pod was connected to others who all believed in their own Gods that lived in the stars above, a world they considered to be a vast ocean. To make it to this place in the after life their role in the life they currently lead was to care for those bodies tossed off boats, thrown from peers to hide murders, sunken graves and mere accidents. They were to help these people move to their own afterlife. So when the town of Capel Celyn sank and became the reservoir it turned into their pod home, to watch over the graves of those who had now sunk beneath the water. The devotion to their religion was a heavy one. They prayed to a mermaid who was as big as the earth, she had formed the oceans with her body, carved them as she swam through the infinite waters of the life beyond, a world that rested on top of their own. It was not just her though, their were many mermaids, each representing something new. Interitus was merely the main one, the one who judged them at the end of their time to decide if they began anew, having to try again, or made it through to a new life in the waters above. Like most in the pod Valasca took her devotion to Interitus seriously, praying to her, making offerings and participating in the rituals of the tribe. One of the main rituals was the summoning of the spirits to bless them. It was the one that focused most on the deceased beings, praised them as those of a higher purpose as they were in the world beyond the one where Valasca and her pod rested. This was where Valasca's obsession with death began. Even the sea creatures she feasted on she treated with the utmost care, making sure their move into the world beyond was a gracious one. Things only escalated when she was sent to perform the ritual to adulthood. One of the few females who were sent out she was expected to return home for the future of their pod. Valasca didn’t. Much like the ritual of Rumspringa the mermaids were to go to the surface for seven evenings and return the wiser for it. Valasca instead found herself half intoxicated with desire and half sick with hate at the ease of access she had to death. The parts of animals that lay on display for others to judge and chose for consumption revolting her but then there were large homes, homes that looked after the dead, treated them with a beautiful respect and laid them to rest in exquisite manners. Valasca believed she had found her calling. Wales was nice for a while. Valasca trained as a mortician at a funeral parlour she found by the sea. Her hours were whenever someone knew came in and since the town was small she was able to spend as much time as she needed in the water. However she was constantly hiding and the rumors of people seeing a mermaid sprang about. Even cutting her hair seemed to make no difference. This was when she met a man, her heart still. Valasca's pod with their special connection to death she knew what the man was immediately. Valasca introduced herself - looking for someone in the town who it turned out had moved on - as a member of the vampire council in a town in America. He offered Valasca passage there but she declined, knowing she wouldn't be able to survive that long without water, and instead accepted directions. In Fall Hollow she took a job at the towns local morgue, the one used by police and most of the town since it was convenient. Unlike in Wales deaths in Fall Hollow were unexplained and with everyone's desire to dispose of the bodies in unseemly ways Valasca made herself open to all the killers in Fall Hollow. She would hide their mistakes and in return she could give them the treatment they deserved. Each body prepared to the best she could manage, prayers and blessings made over the body before she reduced them to the earth, sea or smoke depending on their own species or religion she could make out. For the most part she keeps to herself, though over the past five years she's lived in Fall Hollow she has spent a lot at local vampire hang outs. On Fall Hollow lies a sanctuary lead by young mermaid, for all supernatural creatures. The building attached to the funeral offers a place for non-humans to live free of persecution and follow what paths they desire, whether that’s as regular townsfolk and business owners, criminals and shady dealers. However, in return each tenant must work at the funeral. Extra

Aucune sortie n'était particulièrement occupée ce soir, avec le début de Samhain. Ce n'était pas l'établissement préféré de la ville, mais c'était un bon endroit pour trouver un certain type d'entreprise. Il a eu la journée de congé demain, donc il avait bu quelques verres et était maintenant sur le rôdeur. Habillé de jeans simples et ajustés et d'un cou noir v, il s'appuya contre le bar et arpenta la foule. Il y avait beaucoup d'humains autour, mais ils étaient trop fragiles pour survivre à un séjour de nuit avec lui, et les cadavres soulevaient toujours beaucoup de questions embarrassantes. Il avait repéré quelques incubi et succubi autour; toujours un moment amusant, mais leur propension à essayer de consommer l'âme--même un autre démon de l'âme--got ennuyeux. Un loup-garou ou un métamorphe serait le match idéal, mais de par leur nature même, ils étaient difficiles à repérer. Cas a descendu un autre daiquiri aux fraises. Certaines personnes se moquaient de son choix en buvant. Certaines personnes ont aussi le nez cassé. Il ressent vaguement les effets de l'alcool sur sa forme humaine; un léger engourdissement des nerfs, une perte de coordination, une diminution de l'équilibre, mais son esprit nettement non humain est resté assez clair. Il y avait bien sûr des drogues qui pouvaient empoigner même les démons les plus forts, mais Cass avait l'habitude de brûler les choses quand il était haut. Non pas qu'il ait personnellement fait le feu, l'amour du feu tel qu'il était, mais quand il n'était pas complètement en contrôle, ses pouvoirs ont commencé à s'échapper, infectant l'esprit de ceux qui l'entouraient. C'était le chaos. Les morts étaient particulièrement vulnérables, mais d'autres ressentiraient certainement les effets de ses capacités. Cas pourrait transformer une manifestation pacifique en une émeute frénétique en environ 5 minutes; un club plein de fêtards en une foule de pillards en encore moins. Et, inévitablement, quand les humains se sont enflammés, ils ont brûlé les choses, un petit détail fascinant que Cas a interprété comme une preuve de leur tendance inhérente au péché. Quelque chose a attiré son attention à l'extrémité de la pièce, un léger filet d'énergies démoniaques. Un incubateur portait sur le charme d'une pauvre fille, étant aussi subtile qu'un train de marchandises. Il était si inepte, Cas a été brièvement tenté d'aller lui casser la mâchoire pour être une pauvre excuse de pisse pour un démon, mais une autre fille a arraché sa proie avec un minimum d'effort. Cas riait brièvement et envisageait d'affronter l'incubateur de toute façon, quand une fille solitaire au bar a attiré son attention. Elle était assez jolie, mais surtout seule. Il s'est rapproché d'elle en lui demandant un autre verre. Oui, il sentait que l'insécurité l'envahissait comme un parfum. Cas était venu à No Exit à la recherche de plaisirs charnels, mais voyant cette fille, il savait qu'il pourrait peut-être trouver quelque chose de bien plus précieux. Cas n'avait pas le pouvoir laissé en lui pour diriger des armées dans le conflit éternel, mais il avait encore plus qu'assez de jus pour s'emparer d'une âme perverse. Et cette fille solitaire, il y avait quelque chose qu'elle voulait tellement qu'elle donnait n'importe quoi pour ça. Devinez-vous que votre rendez-vous est en retard?

Name: Jennifer Flint Nickname: Jen Age: 19 Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Omega Title: Species: Werewolf Occupation Baker Likes: Italian food, Romance novels, Chess, Drawing Dislikes: Violence, Tidiness, Hospitals Fears: Being thrown out of her pack Personality: Kind, Quiet, Generous, Timid, Easily Frightened, Easy to Push Around Jen has little to no self confidence. She doesn't think that she'll achieve much in life, and just wants to live peacefully. She's a pushover, and is easily ordered around. Though she is timid, she is still willing to talk to people if it is necessary. Her greatest strength is her kindness and generosity. She is always willing to help someone in need, no matter their race, species or gender. History: Jen was born to a Beta of the pack and a 'strong' Omega. She had high expectations from her father, the Beta, and tried her best to live up to them. However, it wasn't in her personality or body to be the wolf her father wanted. He viewed her as weak, both mentally and physically. When she was 16, her father passed away, still disappointed in his daughter. She has been living on her own in a one bedroom apartment since then, regretting every day that she couldn't make him proud, not even once. Extra

Jen a regardé qui s'était assis à côté d'elle. Elle envisageait de dire quelque chose pour la déranger, avant de se rendre compte que si elle essayait quelque chose comme ça, elle finirait probablement par s'étouffer sur ses propres mots et s'enfuirait dans l'embarras. Cependant, toutes ces pensées lui ont laissé la tête quand elle a vu l'homme devant elle. Elle lâchait une petite gueule à la vue, complètement bafouée par un homme aussi séduisant qui lui parlait. « Je n'ai pas de rendez-vous », a-t-elle finalement réussi à sortir, a surpris sa bouche encore travaillée. Elle avait déjà eu des hommes. Plusieurs étaient entrés dans la boulangerie et ont essayé de faire des insinuations impliquant des éclairs, des fours et divers autres termes liés à la boulangerie. Mais personne ne s'était jamais présenté à elle dans un club (d'après son expérience limitée de toute façon).

Name: Jennifer Flint Nickname: Jen Age: 19 Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Omega Title: Species: Werewolf Occupation Baker Likes: Italian food, Romance novels, Chess, Drawing Dislikes: Violence, Tidiness, Hospitals Fears: Being thrown out of her pack Personality: Kind, Quiet, Generous, Timid, Easily Frightened, Easy to Push Around Jen has little to no self confidence. She doesn't think that she'll achieve much in life, and just wants to live peacefully. She's a pushover, and is easily ordered around. Though she is timid, she is still willing to talk to people if it is necessary. Her greatest strength is her kindness and generosity. She is always willing to help someone in need, no matter their race, species or gender. History: Jen was born to a Beta of the pack and a 'strong' Omega. She had high expectations from her father, the Beta, and tried her best to live up to them. However, it wasn't in her personality or body to be the wolf her father wanted. He viewed her as weak, both mentally and physically. When she was 16, her father passed away, still disappointed in his daughter. She has been living on her own in a one bedroom apartment since then, regretting every day that she couldn't make him proud, not even once. Extra

L'insuccubus a atteint la marraine, ses yeux bleus perçants regardaient dans la profondeur sombre du démon. Elle savait qu'au moment où sa main touchait sa peau, elle serait perdue. Le petit paquet d'énergie qu'elle avait stocké, serait juste suffisant pour causer un peu de distraction pour s'échapper. C'était un risque. Cependant, c'était une chance qu'elle était prête à prendre. Hé bébé! Alors c'est là que tu t'es enfui! Je te cherchais!" Les deux super êtres se sont cassé la tête vers le nouvel intrus. Le visage d'une belle femme pâle aux cheveux cramoisi et aux yeux bleu foncé. L'étrange rousse s'approcha de Val, son bras enroulé autour de la taille de Val et salua la déesse bronzée avec un baiser sur sa joue. L'insuccbus sombre fixa l'homme avec dégoût sur son visage, une faible évasion de la gorge de la perturbation et avant qu'il ait eu le temps de répondre à la fille pleine d'esprit. La rousse avait disparu avec la sirène dans le remorquage. Les deux avaient réussi à se diriger vers une région isolée, où la musique du club pouvait à peine être entendue. La rouquine lâcha la main et se tourna vers elle une fois de plus. Ses lèvres de plomb se séparaient, seulement pour les presser ensemble quand la rouquine parlait à nouveau. Cette fois, la jeune fille s'est moquée de son désintérêt pour elle, et bien pour les femmes en général. Val l'a regardée dans l'émerveillement tandis que la peau blanche de la fille comme neige change de couleur juste devant ses yeux. Elle lui rappelait les coraux rouges qui se trouvaient sous le sol de la mer. " Je vous remercie de m'avoir fait partir. Je ne sais pas comment rembourser pour votre gentillesse... » Son accent était léger en parlant, Val a placé sa main sur les épaules de la fille et un sourire simple, la guider vers le bar. Il placerait les deux dans l'un des endroits les plus chauds du club, visible pour tous à voir. Avec de la chance, le démon perdra l'intérêt de la fille et d'elle - même. " Je t'offrirai un verre, c'est le moins que je puisse faire.

Name: Valasca Del Viento Nickname: Val Age: 27 Gender: Female Sexuality: Asexual Panromantic Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Associate Title: Species: Mermaid Occupation Mortician Likes: - Death - Salty Foods - Her daily swims Dislikes: - Anyone who treats her clients ill - Being lied to - Sweets - Theft Fears: Have her establishment and sanctuary taken from her Personality: Now that Valasca’s been living in Fall Hollow, she finally feels free for the first time in her life. She doesn't need to change her name or hide who she is. However, despite that freedom, old habits die hard. Despite her warm and caring nature, Valasca is still very much a secretive and closed off individual that has a great deal of trouble opening up to people about who she really is or letting them into her more private life. This can make her come off as a bit distant, but despite that she is still never much a caring mortician that will go above and beyond for her patients. She is more than happy to take care of her clients needs as well as take notes on the various different species in the city to further her knowledge. History: Valasca was born in the murky waters of a town that was submerged in water to stop the flooding of Spain five decades ago. Unlike most pods who stuck to areas easily evacuated the pod Valasca was born to had a higher purpose, or so they believed. Valasca pod was connected to others who all believed in their own Gods that lived in the stars above, a world they considered to be a vast ocean. To make it to this place in the after life their role in the life they currently lead was to care for those bodies tossed off boats, thrown from peers to hide murders, sunken graves and mere accidents. They were to help these people move to their own afterlife. So when the town of Capel Celyn sank and became the reservoir it turned into their pod home, to watch over the graves of those who had now sunk beneath the water. The devotion to their religion was a heavy one. They prayed to a mermaid who was as big as the earth, she had formed the oceans with her body, carved them as she swam through the infinite waters of the life beyond, a world that rested on top of their own. It was not just her though, their were many mermaids, each representing something new. Interitus was merely the main one, the one who judged them at the end of their time to decide if they began anew, having to try again, or made it through to a new life in the waters above. Like most in the pod Valasca took her devotion to Interitus seriously, praying to her, making offerings and participating in the rituals of the tribe. One of the main rituals was the summoning of the spirits to bless them. It was the one that focused most on the deceased beings, praised them as those of a higher purpose as they were in the world beyond the one where Valasca and her pod rested. This was where Valasca's obsession with death began. Even the sea creatures she feasted on she treated with the utmost care, making sure their move into the world beyond was a gracious one. Things only escalated when she was sent to perform the ritual to adulthood. One of the few females who were sent out she was expected to return home for the future of their pod. Valasca didn’t. Much like the ritual of Rumspringa the mermaids were to go to the surface for seven evenings and return the wiser for it. Valasca instead found herself half intoxicated with desire and half sick with hate at the ease of access she had to death. The parts of animals that lay on display for others to judge and chose for consumption revolting her but then there were large homes, homes that looked after the dead, treated them with a beautiful respect and laid them to rest in exquisite manners. Valasca believed she had found her calling. Wales was nice for a while. Valasca trained as a mortician at a funeral parlour she found by the sea. Her hours were whenever someone knew came in and since the town was small she was able to spend as much time as she needed in the water. However she was constantly hiding and the rumors of people seeing a mermaid sprang about. Even cutting her hair seemed to make no difference. This was when she met a man, her heart still. Valasca's pod with their special connection to death she knew what the man was immediately. Valasca introduced herself - looking for someone in the town who it turned out had moved on - as a member of the vampire council in a town in America. He offered Valasca passage there but she declined, knowing she wouldn't be able to survive that long without water, and instead accepted directions. In Fall Hollow she took a job at the towns local morgue, the one used by police and most of the town since it was convenient. Unlike in Wales deaths in Fall Hollow were unexplained and with everyone's desire to dispose of the bodies in unseemly ways Valasca made herself open to all the killers in Fall Hollow. She would hide their mistakes and in return she could give them the treatment they deserved. Each body prepared to the best she could manage, prayers and blessings made over the body before she reduced them to the earth, sea or smoke depending on their own species or religion she could make out. For the most part she keeps to herself, though over the past five years she's lived in Fall Hollow she has spent a lot at local vampire hang outs. On Fall Hollow lies a sanctuary lead by young mermaid, for all supernatural creatures. The building attached to the funeral offers a place for non-humans to live free of persecution and follow what paths they desire, whether that’s as regular townsfolk and business owners, criminals and shady dealers. However, in return each tenant must work at the funeral. Extra

Vorel n'a pas fait beaucoup d'habitude de fréquenter les clubs, mais ce soir c'était Samhain et même il a décidé d'essayer quelque chose de nouveau. Il s'assit au bar plus loin de la danse et de la musique. De temps en temps, il cherchait à voir quels développements devenaient du club. Beaucoup de moments chauds normaux qui ont été partagés ou rejetés. Il a remarqué Jen assis seul à une table. Il ne savait pas grand-chose d'elle, sauf qu'elle travaillait dans une boulangerie, mais il a fait un point pour connaître tous les loups-garous, même les Omégas. Elle était de quelques années plus jeune que lui, alors son intérêt n'a pas été vraiment piquée dans sa façon. Son intérêt a été piquée par deux femmes qui ont fait leur chemin à côté de lui au bar. La tête rouge ardente était humaine, mais le soleil a embrassé une était certainement une sirène de son odeur. "Excusez-moi. Je n'ai pas pu m'empêcher d'entendre votre plan pour lui offrir un verre, mais si ça ne vous dérange pas, j'aimerais vous offrir à boire tous les deux. Je m'appelle Vorel, si ça t'intéresse. Puis-je demander vos noms aussi?"

Name: Vorel Raiken Nickname: Vore Age: 34 Gender: Male Sexuality: Hetero Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Council Title: Alpha Male/ Werewolf Councillor Species: Werewolf Occupation Stockbroker Likes: Logic / Power / Women / The simple things in life. Dislikes: Stupidity / Laziness / Hot things Fears: Powerlessness / Losing Control / Fear itself Personality: Vorel is very controlling. He believes in maintaining control of every aspect of his life. This is different from the typical hot blooded werewolves he grew up around, but it's what he attributes to the success he holds today. He works very hard and is very smart as well. He is rather apathetic as well though. He shows little negative emotions and expects others to get over them as quickly as he does. He isn't the strongest werewolf, but underestimating him is a dire mistake. Being bullied as he grew has created a very tough being, both physically and mentally. He is rather patient, but doesn't take well to werewolves being threatened. History: Vorel was born to a set of strong parents. His mother was a Gamma and his father a Delta. He had several brothers and sisters, and his eldest brother is probably the strongest werewolf today. He has a respect for Vorel though, after he beat him up one day. Vorel didn't fight back, but later on his brother returned to his room and found everything was gone. As he turned around in shock, Vorel jumped him and beat him up in return. His brother had gotten in several fights where both sides fought until it was over, but Vorel held his anger until the moment was right. His brother realized the power behind this mentality and gave him due respect after that. He grew up strong, but many didn't like the attitude he kept about him. Though his brother wanted to help him when gangs came at him, he refused and took them on himself. He took many beatings growing up and returned retribution on many of his former enemies. A fear and respect grew about him as more experienced or heard of his work. If he wasn't enacting revenge or instilling fear, he was studying. His favorite subject was economics and he was quickly playing with stocks in his own time. As he began to make money, he began a business. As he rapidly made money, he expanded his business and soon found himself in control of very large amounts of money. A substantial amount was his own as well. With the fall of one of the councillors, he was the obvious choice for a replacement. His physical strength was among the highest in the pack, and his respect and financial control made him a prime candidate for Councillor. He accepted and has served for a few years now. He continues his business, but has faced a significant decrease in bullying. Even other council members have a respect for what this calm cannon may do next. With the werewolf kind backing him, he has plenty of options. Extra He really likes the way the moon lights up snow on a clear night after a fresh snowfall. He loves his suits as well.

Saoirse était sur le point de rejeter l'offre faite par la belle femme, quand elle a soudain pris un aperçu de la rampante d'avant. Elle comprit alors; un sourire s'est glissé sur son visage. "Bien sûr. Pourquoi pas? Ne t'attends pas à ce que je boive beaucoup. Tu sais que je ne peux pas tenir ma liqour, bébé." Elle a dit avec un sourire et un clin d'œil. Saoirse a ensuite suivi la femme jusqu'au bar. Peu après avoir pris place, un autre homme s'est adressé à eux. "Désolé, mon pote. Mais ma copine m'a déjà promis qu'elle m'achèterait une tournée. Il va falloir que tu fasses la queue." Elle répondit à l'homme avec un léger sourire. Elle a ensuite commandé une petite bière et a pris une gorgée. Elle n'était pas sur le point de prendre un verre d'un étranger sans raison. Au moins, la femme était en train de rembourser une dette. Cependant, ce nouvel homme offrait un verre sans raison, et Saoirse n'aimait pas cela. "En plus, ma mère m'a dit de ne jamais parler à des étrangers." Elle sourit en rigolant.

Name: Saoirse Clarke Nickname: Selkie Age: 25 Gender: female Sexuality: hetero Relationship Status: single and ready to mingle Gang Rank: N/a Title: N/a Species: human Occupation Freelance artist/painter, illustrator Likes: sketching/drawing Music Singing(she's actually pretty good at it) Sleep Warmth Cheesy love stories Affection Sweets Dislikes: Blood Guns Violence Coldness Physical activity Fears: Monsters from story books(even though she's never met one or at least she doesn't think she's met one) Blood The dark Personality: Saoirse is a very kind, warm, and gentle woman. There isn't a violent bone in her body. She is also very introverted, naive, and innocent and tends to be shy when you first meet her. However, it doesn't take much for her to warm up to somebody. She is a loyal friend and always tries to help out whenever she can. She, of course, also has a tendency to be quite lazy and likes to sleep when she has the time Flaws & Virtues She is innocent to a fault She can be clumsy She is physically weak and has low stamina She has a frail body She is a good singer and artist History: Saoirse's history is nothing extraordinary. She lived a happy childhood and had parents who adored her and a small tight knight group of friends. She was born frail and weak so she would get sick easily, which meant more time for her to persue her passions in life. At a young age, her parents could tell that she had quite a knack for the arts and that she would end up in the artistic field of work. When she graduated from college and embarked on her own, she decided to move to an interesting place called Fall Hollow. She hoped that by moving to such an area, that she would get a fresh start, a clean slate. She had hoped on making some new friends and immerse herself in a different area would be good for her health. Little did she know of what creatures reside there. However, it wouldn't matter much to her anyway. She currently lives alone, locked up in the little apartment she calls home. She has been living there for the past few years and has, for the most part, been shut up in her home, trying to catch up with strict deadlines. On occasion she will go out to explore the local shops and bakeries, that is, when she has the chance. Extra her name is pronounced as see-er-sha She has an Irish accent She has a very low tolerance for alcohol and tends to not drink because of it

Oh, désolé, j'ai juste supposé que quelqu'un comme vous ne serait pas ici seul, il a dit avec un sourire génial, puis a étendu sa main: Ohio Cas. Elle était si douloureusement maladroite que Cas se demandait momentanément si ce n'était qu'un acte. Pourrait-elle être un ange de forme humaine qui attend juste de le frapper de feu céleste? "Je suis assez sûr qu'elle est juste une fille timide, Casternus" l'image de Mariel parlait du fond de son esprit. "Vous permettez? Je suis occupé", rétorqua-t-il silencieusement, mais Mariel était partie. Ce n'était pas sa spécialité, mais tous les démons existaient pour tenter les autres dans le péché et réclamer leur âme pour Inferno. S'il lisait bien cette fille, ce serait assez facile. Ses sens pour les désirs mortels n'étaient pas aussi raffinés qu'un incubateur, mais il pouvait encore sentir l'insuffisance profonde assise qu'elle ressentait, avec un désir de... quelque chose. Une fois qu'il lui a donné un goût de pouvoir, de pouvoir réel, elle n'a jamais voulu revenir en arrière; elle a volontairement abandonné son âme pour le garder.

Name: Jennifer Flint Nickname: Jen Age: 19 Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Omega Title: Species: Werewolf Occupation Baker Likes: Italian food, Romance novels, Chess, Drawing Dislikes: Violence, Tidiness, Hospitals Fears: Being thrown out of her pack Personality: Kind, Quiet, Generous, Timid, Easily Frightened, Easy to Push Around Jen has little to no self confidence. She doesn't think that she'll achieve much in life, and just wants to live peacefully. She's a pushover, and is easily ordered around. Though she is timid, she is still willing to talk to people if it is necessary. Her greatest strength is her kindness and generosity. She is always willing to help someone in need, no matter their race, species or gender. History: Jen was born to a Beta of the pack and a 'strong' Omega. She had high expectations from her father, the Beta, and tried her best to live up to them. However, it wasn't in her personality or body to be the wolf her father wanted. He viewed her as weak, both mentally and physically. When she was 16, her father passed away, still disappointed in his daughter. She has been living on her own in a one bedroom apartment since then, regretting every day that she couldn't make him proud, not even once. Extra

Ali Danea C'était le Jour des Morts, et l'excitation d'Ali roulait d'elle dans les vagues alors qu'elle descendait des rues peuplées avec sa guitare attachée à son dos. Elle n'avait pas de costume à la différence des autres qui étaient habillés en vampires et autres. C'était adorable de regarder. Des créatures mythiques qui s'habillent comme d'autres créatures mythiques? Oh, les choses que vous voyez tous les jours. No Exit était un endroit que Ali visitait souvent, principalement parce que son groupe jouait là-bas les nuits moins occupées. Ils n'avaient jamais eu la chance de jouer lors de grandes occasions, et surtout pas pendant quelque chose comme le Jour des Morts. Alors quand Ali a reçu l'appel plus tôt cette semaine-là, elle avait attrapé chacun de ses membres par l'oreille et les a fait pratiquer du crépuscule jusqu'à l'aube. Elle n'avait pas l'intention de faire carrière dans la musique puisque qui elle était rendrait cela impossible, mais c'était amusant et elle voulait partager ce plaisir avec tout le monde à No Exit. Il y avait un DJ qui gérait la station quand elle est arrivée à No Exit. Ils le remplaceraient plus tard ce soir, alors Ali se dirigea vers l'arrière pour déposer ses affaires. Les membres de son groupe étaient déjà là, chacun dans ses propres costumes. Certains d'entre eux ont été martelés et les autres étaient bien en route. Avec un sourire affectueux, Ali laissa sa guitare avec eux et retourna dans le bar. Il était rempli de personnes cherchant compagnie pour la nuit, et bien qu'elle n'ait jamais aimé de telles interactions, il serait bon de repérer la région. Voir pour qui ils joueraient et tout ça. Elle regarda en face comme un Incubus tenter de séduire une jeune femme et presque chargée en elle-même. Heureusement, quelqu'un était venu à la rescousse de la dame. Il ne lui a pas fallu assez de temps pour repérer une âme solitaire au milieu d'un établissement rempli de luxure et assez tôt, quelqu'un était venu et a enlevé cette fille aussi. Tout ce qu'Ali a pu faire, c'était ricaner sous son souffle. Le Jour des Morts et les gens flirtaient dehors. "Quelque chose de romantique ou quelque chose qui va mettre les gens chaud et ennuyé à l'époque, ou les deux," elle a déduit tout comme elle a vu un loup-garou qu'elle a reconnu mais à peine parlé pour approcher les deux filles. Vorel, si elle s'en souvient correctement. Il avait l'air assez gentil, mais il semblait que la tête rouge n'était pas tout à fait d'accord avec son arrivée. Avec une profonde respiration, elle se dirigea vers le groupe et offrit un petit sourire à Vorel. "Désolé de s'immiscer, chéries, mais j'ai entendu dire que quelqu'un achetait des boissons et j'espérais que je pourrais participer à une partie de cette action", a-t-elle dit avec un rire léger. Passant à la tête rouge, elle continua avec une main étendue, "Le nom est Alinea, mais s'il vous plaît appelez-moi Ali. Là, je ne suis plus un étranger, n'est-ce pas?" "Étranger ou pas, mon groupe va bientôt jouer là-haut. Je me demandais si vous aimeriez demander une chanson."

Name: Alinea Crow Danea Nickname: Ali Age: 20 Gender: Female Sexuality: Homosexual Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: The The Masquerade - Beta Species: Shifter Occupation College Student | Part-timer at a local bookstore Likes: Music | The forest | Coffee Dislikes: The people she cares about getting hurt | Witches | Being mocked or looked down on Fears: Heights | Losing someone she cares about | Disappointing her father Personality: + Loyal | + Brave | + Charming | - Rash | - Stubborn | - Easily manipulated Ali is best described as a person "blooming in the garden of youth", or at least, that's how the elderly folk of Fall Hollow call her when they're in a particularly good mood. It was "damned teenage rascal" when they weren't. Either way, Ali is what you can call a typical teenager with her exhuberant energy and outgoing personality, with just a touch of rebelliousness to spice up the dish. She's the kind of person you'll see in different scenes, chatting with all the right people and effortlessly making friends with anyone she approaches. Ali's loyalty is fierce and unmatched by anything. For the people who have grown dear to her heart, you can be rest assured that Ali would do anything to help and protect you. Of course, it's also this fierce loyalty that can sometimes give Ali tunnel-vision and make her refrain from hearing the other side of a conflict. Her friends' enemies were her enemies, and nothing could change that in her mind even if her friends had been the ones in the wrong. It must be said that this has gotten Ali into trouble more than once, especially when it turned out that her so-called friends had only been manipulating her to do their every whim. Despite this, Ali has never learned. Ali is someone you can be assured would always be there for you, even if she can be a tad reckless at times. She always means well and is willing to lend a helping hand with a bright smile. History: It was the first of December, in the middle of one of the harshest winters experienced by Fall Hollow, when the youngest of the Danea clan entered the world. Julio Danea, the current patriarch of the household, had held his baby girl and announced that her name would be Crow for he was sure that like the rest of their family, the child's spirit animal would be one that made the sky its home and that she would be the best that their family had ever seen. When Ali's third birthday came and she met her spirit animal during one of the family's usual camping trips, her father couldn't be any more disappointed. Her spirit animal had been a black panther, and not the graceful flyer he had expected. Of course, Ali had been too young then to know what that revelation had done to her relationship with her father. Continuing her trend of going against the grain in her family's norms, she found that she had no affinity for strategizing. Unlike her father, grandfather, and great grandfather, she knew she would never take the role of advisor in The Masquerade. She had let her brothers be the ones to compete for that position. Her goal had been something more. As the years passed, Ali strengthened her bond with both her spirit animal and the multitude of land-bound creatures she had intently studied. Sure, she had also shifted into some sea creatures, but they didn't feel as comfortable as being on all fours on good, solid land. And so she honed her skills of transformation to the point that she could partially shift a little bit longer than most of the older shifters. Her physical strength wasn't something to be laughed at either. Before she knew it, she became one of the youngest betas in The Masquerade while her brothers had failed in their tasks of joining the gang as its advisor. Pride swelled up in Ali and she had turned to her father hoping to see the same in his eyes, but she found it wanting. Her relationship with her father remains rocky still and he continues to favour his two sons. He had even refused to let Ali work in the family business, the local animal shelter, which forced Ali to find a part-time job somewhere else. It seemed as though fate continually wanted to wedge an ever bigger gap between Ali and her father as it soon grew apparent that she held a passion for robotics, something that her father has always frowned upon thinking that further technological advancements would push the youth away from nature. Extra • She holds a deep hatred for witches as a dear friend of hers, a werewolf, had died in a skirmish between their two gangs. • She is the lead vocalist of a band she created with her friends in college. They're well-known in Fall Hollow but they only play for fun. Jokingly, they call themselves "Hodgepodge" because each of them are a different species from the other. • She still regularly goes on camping trips in the forest, sometimes even staying out in the wilderness for weeks.

"Je suis Jennifer. Mais tu peux m'appeler Jen. Sauf si tu ne veux pas. Tu peux m'appeler comme tu veux. Eh bien, pas n'importe quoi, dans la raison bien sûr," Elle s'est brouillée, avant de s'arrêter, de prendre une profonde respiration. Calmez-vous. C'est juste un homme incroyablement séduisant qui est venu s'asseoir à côté de toi et a commencé à te parler. Oh, et il a supposé que vous étiez à un rendez-vous. À la seconde pensée, la panique n'était pas si surprenante d'une réaction, » pensa-t-elle, son cerveau travaillant à cent milles à l'heure. Elle tendit la main et secoua la sienne au bout d'un moment. Elle n'était pas sûre de ce qu'il en était qui l'avait dans un tel état. Outre l'attractivité susmentionnée. Il semblait déclencher l'instinct animal en elle. Et ça l'inquiétait et l'excitait.

Name: Jennifer Flint Nickname: Jen Age: 19 Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Omega Title: Species: Werewolf Occupation Baker Likes: Italian food, Romance novels, Chess, Drawing Dislikes: Violence, Tidiness, Hospitals Fears: Being thrown out of her pack Personality: Kind, Quiet, Generous, Timid, Easily Frightened, Easy to Push Around Jen has little to no self confidence. She doesn't think that she'll achieve much in life, and just wants to live peacefully. She's a pushover, and is easily ordered around. Though she is timid, she is still willing to talk to people if it is necessary. Her greatest strength is her kindness and generosity. She is always willing to help someone in need, no matter their race, species or gender. History: Jen was born to a Beta of the pack and a 'strong' Omega. She had high expectations from her father, the Beta, and tried her best to live up to them. However, it wasn't in her personality or body to be the wolf her father wanted. He viewed her as weak, both mentally and physically. When she was 16, her father passed away, still disappointed in his daughter. She has been living on her own in a one bedroom apartment since then, regretting every day that she couldn't make him proud, not even once. Extra

L'homme a rapidement rejeté son offre. "Ha, tu n'avais pas à profiter de ma compagnie, juste de mon argent, mais si c'est comme ça que tu le veux. Je suppose que vous obtenez un verre gratuit dans tous les cas." La sirène restait plutôt calme, mais il était toujours prêt à offrir un verre si elle acceptait. Il était sur le point d'amuser son propre verre alors qu'une autre fille s'approchait de lui. Elle apparut un peu plus du côté sauvage, mais quiconque, avec le respect de se présenter, tenait une place élevée dans son livre. "Enchanté de vous rencontrer Ali. Je suppose que nous ne sommes plus des étrangers." Il a essayé d'analyser son odeur en la saluant. Il a pris sa main étendue et l'a aidée à s'asseoir en même temps. Son odeur était très différente de lui. Elle ne sentait pas comme un humain ou autre chose, mais elle sentait comme tout le reste aussi bien. Il n'en avait pas rencontré beaucoup, mais les métamorphes étaient très intéressants pour lui. "Si vous voulez être notre divertissement pour ce soir alors s'il vous plaît, prenez un verre sur moi. Je ne pense pas que mon goût de musique typique se passerait bien ici, mais qu'en est-il de « dire mon nom » par Odessa. Bien que cela pourrait nécessiter un équipement fou. Il y a "résistance" de Muse, mais c'est un chanteur masculin. Je suis terrible à ça. Ha, j'aime les nouvelles choses, alors joue ta chanson préférée pour nous. En fait, faisons en sorte que tout le monde soit prêt. Un tour gratuit pour tous mes amis au bar!" Une petite joie sortit alors qu'il annonçait sa générosité. Il s'est tourné vers le barman. "C'est tout le monde sauf la rousse. Évidemment, nous sommes des étrangers." Pendant l'excitation, il a remarqué à nouveau Jen, et sa nouvelle compagnie. Il s'est bourdonné à lui-même. Son comportement insouciant a rapidement changé. Il connaissait Cas et un peu de sa réputation. Il a fait comprendre tout le pouvoir à Fall Hallow. Ne sois pas stupide Jen. Il ne partira pas avec toi. Il ne veut qu'une âme. Se réveillant de ses pensées, il mit un faux sourire et remit son attention à Ali et au bar. Il a continué à garder un œil sur Cas toujours. Il ne perdait pas un loup-garou pour lui ce soir.

Name: Vorel Raiken Nickname: Vore Age: 34 Gender: Male Sexuality: Hetero Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Council Title: Alpha Male/ Werewolf Councillor Species: Werewolf Occupation Stockbroker Likes: Logic / Power / Women / The simple things in life. Dislikes: Stupidity / Laziness / Hot things Fears: Powerlessness / Losing Control / Fear itself Personality: Vorel is very controlling. He believes in maintaining control of every aspect of his life. This is different from the typical hot blooded werewolves he grew up around, but it's what he attributes to the success he holds today. He works very hard and is very smart as well. He is rather apathetic as well though. He shows little negative emotions and expects others to get over them as quickly as he does. He isn't the strongest werewolf, but underestimating him is a dire mistake. Being bullied as he grew has created a very tough being, both physically and mentally. He is rather patient, but doesn't take well to werewolves being threatened. History: Vorel was born to a set of strong parents. His mother was a Gamma and his father a Delta. He had several brothers and sisters, and his eldest brother is probably the strongest werewolf today. He has a respect for Vorel though, after he beat him up one day. Vorel didn't fight back, but later on his brother returned to his room and found everything was gone. As he turned around in shock, Vorel jumped him and beat him up in return. His brother had gotten in several fights where both sides fought until it was over, but Vorel held his anger until the moment was right. His brother realized the power behind this mentality and gave him due respect after that. He grew up strong, but many didn't like the attitude he kept about him. Though his brother wanted to help him when gangs came at him, he refused and took them on himself. He took many beatings growing up and returned retribution on many of his former enemies. A fear and respect grew about him as more experienced or heard of his work. If he wasn't enacting revenge or instilling fear, he was studying. His favorite subject was economics and he was quickly playing with stocks in his own time. As he began to make money, he began a business. As he rapidly made money, he expanded his business and soon found himself in control of very large amounts of money. A substantial amount was his own as well. With the fall of one of the councillors, he was the obvious choice for a replacement. His physical strength was among the highest in the pack, and his respect and financial control made him a prime candidate for Councillor. He accepted and has served for a few years now. He continues his business, but has faced a significant decrease in bullying. Even other council members have a respect for what this calm cannon may do next. With the werewolf kind backing him, he has plenty of options. Extra He really likes the way the moon lights up snow on a clear night after a fresh snowfall. He loves his suits as well.

"Tu fais des chansons, hein? Oh, je sais! "J'écris des péchés, pas des tragédies" par Panic! A la discothèque? Si tu veux, je pourrais me joindre à moi pour m'amuser et chanter si tu veux." Saoirse répondit avec un clin d'œil et un sourire. Elle a ensuite ri. "Le nom est Saoirse. Ravi de vous rencontrer Ali." Saoirse s'est ensuite moqué de l'homme qui s'appelait Vorel. "Vous n'aurez jamais dans le pantalon d'une femme avec cette attitude, doux coeur. Croyez-moi, je n'apprécierais jamais votre compagnie ou votre argent, avec votre personnalité." Elle lui répondit avec un sourire, avant de retourner à Ali. Il y avait quelque chose à propos de ce type qu'elle ne pouvait pas supporter. "Alors, qu'en dites-vous? Ça vous dérange si je me joins à l'amusement? » Saoirse a demandé une fois de plus.

Name: Saoirse Clarke Nickname: Selkie Age: 25 Gender: female Sexuality: hetero Relationship Status: single and ready to mingle Gang Rank: N/a Title: N/a Species: human Occupation Freelance artist/painter, illustrator Likes: sketching/drawing Music Singing(she's actually pretty good at it) Sleep Warmth Cheesy love stories Affection Sweets Dislikes: Blood Guns Violence Coldness Physical activity Fears: Monsters from story books(even though she's never met one or at least she doesn't think she's met one) Blood The dark Personality: Saoirse is a very kind, warm, and gentle woman. There isn't a violent bone in her body. She is also very introverted, naive, and innocent and tends to be shy when you first meet her. However, it doesn't take much for her to warm up to somebody. She is a loyal friend and always tries to help out whenever she can. She, of course, also has a tendency to be quite lazy and likes to sleep when she has the time Flaws & Virtues She is innocent to a fault She can be clumsy She is physically weak and has low stamina She has a frail body She is a good singer and artist History: Saoirse's history is nothing extraordinary. She lived a happy childhood and had parents who adored her and a small tight knight group of friends. She was born frail and weak so she would get sick easily, which meant more time for her to persue her passions in life. At a young age, her parents could tell that she had quite a knack for the arts and that she would end up in the artistic field of work. When she graduated from college and embarked on her own, she decided to move to an interesting place called Fall Hollow. She hoped that by moving to such an area, that she would get a fresh start, a clean slate. She had hoped on making some new friends and immerse herself in a different area would be good for her health. Little did she know of what creatures reside there. However, it wouldn't matter much to her anyway. She currently lives alone, locked up in the little apartment she calls home. She has been living there for the past few years and has, for the most part, been shut up in her home, trying to catch up with strict deadlines. On occasion she will go out to explore the local shops and bakeries, that is, when she has the chance. Extra her name is pronounced as see-er-sha She has an Irish accent She has a very low tolerance for alcohol and tends to not drink because of it

Une fois que les deux sont arrivés au bar, peu de temps avant que la marraine n'ait capté l'attention du barman. Un petit sourire se répandit sur les lèvres du barman, heureux de voir une telle beauté. En tant que filles de la mer, ce sont de belles créatures aquatiques qui se lèvent des vagues pour attirer les hommes dans leurs bras. Magnifique, connivence et dangereux. Elle avait vraiment besoin de boire quelque chose. Sa gorge était sèche, et c'était un sentiment qu'elle n'aimait pas tout à fait. Valasca était sur le point de commander une tournée de boissons pour eux deux, quand un homme est sorti de nulle part et s'est présenté, après avoir offert d'acheter les boissons. Valasca est restée silencieuse alors que sa nouvelle amie essayait d'effrayer l'homme plus âgé, et bien que son visage semblait si familier, son esprit était trop nuageux pour le dire. Contrairement, la plupart des espèces de la ville. Elle ne savait pas qui était ce par l'odeur ou le toucher. Comme les humains, Val a dû les découvrir par spectacle. Merci, elle a dit quand ses yeux ont rencontré le sien, "Je suis sûr, mon ami veut bien." Val a posé sa main sur l'épaule de la fille, une petite rassure et reconnaissance pour ce qu'elle avait fait pour Val. Une autre femme a accueilli calmement le petit groupe au bar. Elle a appelé à la foule, mais sa voix a été noyée par les bruits de la foule. Val sentit le buzz dans sa poche et savait qu'elle devait partir bientôt, pour assister à ses affaires. C'est juste que l'appel est venu sur un très mauvais timing. Val regarda la montre sur sa main. 3h07 du matin. Valasca appréciait le chant en direct, comme n'importe lequel de son genre et d'avoir la chance d'expérimenter le nouveau genre de musique. Il était devenu plus excité quand sa nouvelle amie a demandé de se joindre à l'amusement. Elle leva le bras et commanda une tournée de tirs pour de nouveaux amis.

Name: Valasca Del Viento Nickname: Val Age: 27 Gender: Female Sexuality: Asexual Panromantic Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Associate Title: Species: Mermaid Occupation Mortician Likes: - Death - Salty Foods - Her daily swims Dislikes: - Anyone who treats her clients ill - Being lied to - Sweets - Theft Fears: Have her establishment and sanctuary taken from her Personality: Now that Valasca’s been living in Fall Hollow, she finally feels free for the first time in her life. She doesn't need to change her name or hide who she is. However, despite that freedom, old habits die hard. Despite her warm and caring nature, Valasca is still very much a secretive and closed off individual that has a great deal of trouble opening up to people about who she really is or letting them into her more private life. This can make her come off as a bit distant, but despite that she is still never much a caring mortician that will go above and beyond for her patients. She is more than happy to take care of her clients needs as well as take notes on the various different species in the city to further her knowledge. History: Valasca was born in the murky waters of a town that was submerged in water to stop the flooding of Spain five decades ago. Unlike most pods who stuck to areas easily evacuated the pod Valasca was born to had a higher purpose, or so they believed. Valasca pod was connected to others who all believed in their own Gods that lived in the stars above, a world they considered to be a vast ocean. To make it to this place in the after life their role in the life they currently lead was to care for those bodies tossed off boats, thrown from peers to hide murders, sunken graves and mere accidents. They were to help these people move to their own afterlife. So when the town of Capel Celyn sank and became the reservoir it turned into their pod home, to watch over the graves of those who had now sunk beneath the water. The devotion to their religion was a heavy one. They prayed to a mermaid who was as big as the earth, she had formed the oceans with her body, carved them as she swam through the infinite waters of the life beyond, a world that rested on top of their own. It was not just her though, their were many mermaids, each representing something new. Interitus was merely the main one, the one who judged them at the end of their time to decide if they began anew, having to try again, or made it through to a new life in the waters above. Like most in the pod Valasca took her devotion to Interitus seriously, praying to her, making offerings and participating in the rituals of the tribe. One of the main rituals was the summoning of the spirits to bless them. It was the one that focused most on the deceased beings, praised them as those of a higher purpose as they were in the world beyond the one where Valasca and her pod rested. This was where Valasca's obsession with death began. Even the sea creatures she feasted on she treated with the utmost care, making sure their move into the world beyond was a gracious one. Things only escalated when she was sent to perform the ritual to adulthood. One of the few females who were sent out she was expected to return home for the future of their pod. Valasca didn’t. Much like the ritual of Rumspringa the mermaids were to go to the surface for seven evenings and return the wiser for it. Valasca instead found herself half intoxicated with desire and half sick with hate at the ease of access she had to death. The parts of animals that lay on display for others to judge and chose for consumption revolting her but then there were large homes, homes that looked after the dead, treated them with a beautiful respect and laid them to rest in exquisite manners. Valasca believed she had found her calling. Wales was nice for a while. Valasca trained as a mortician at a funeral parlour she found by the sea. Her hours were whenever someone knew came in and since the town was small she was able to spend as much time as she needed in the water. However she was constantly hiding and the rumors of people seeing a mermaid sprang about. Even cutting her hair seemed to make no difference. This was when she met a man, her heart still. Valasca's pod with their special connection to death she knew what the man was immediately. Valasca introduced herself - looking for someone in the town who it turned out had moved on - as a member of the vampire council in a town in America. He offered Valasca passage there but she declined, knowing she wouldn't be able to survive that long without water, and instead accepted directions. In Fall Hollow she took a job at the towns local morgue, the one used by police and most of the town since it was convenient. Unlike in Wales deaths in Fall Hollow were unexplained and with everyone's desire to dispose of the bodies in unseemly ways Valasca made herself open to all the killers in Fall Hollow. She would hide their mistakes and in return she could give them the treatment they deserved. Each body prepared to the best she could manage, prayers and blessings made over the body before she reduced them to the earth, sea or smoke depending on their own species or religion she could make out. For the most part she keeps to herself, though over the past five years she's lived in Fall Hollow she has spent a lot at local vampire hang outs. On Fall Hollow lies a sanctuary lead by young mermaid, for all supernatural creatures. The building attached to the funeral offers a place for non-humans to live free of persecution and follow what paths they desire, whether that’s as regular townsfolk and business owners, criminals and shady dealers. However, in return each tenant must work at the funeral. Extra

Ali Danea Ali a accepté la boisson qui lui était offerte par le barman. Qu'il s'agisse de Vorel ou de Valasca, elle ne savait pas et elle ne s'en souciait pas non plus. C'était une boisson gratuite et c'était toujours bon tant que l'offrande n'était pas un monstre ou un démon. Il y avait encore des sorcières qui l'inquiétaient, mais elle doutait que n'importe quel de leur genre ait assisté à la fête du bar. Elle a pris une gorgée, méditant les chansons suggérées. Elle n'était pas particulièrement familière avec "Say My Name" et elle était sûre d'essayer qu'une chanson pourrait finir par causer plus de problèmes qu'elle ne pouvait supporter. La résistance, cependant, était quelque chose qu'elle pensait que son groupe pouvait jouer. Elle a peut-être été chantée par un mâle, mais cela n'avait jamais été un problème auparavant. Les gens ont, après tout, commenté que sa voix et son apparence ont donné un bord masculin. "La résistance pourrait être bonne. Je vais devoir en discuter avec les autres, mais je ne pense pas qu'ils diront non », répondit-elle en souriant à Vorel. "Bon goût dans la musique." Elle s'est tournée vers la rousse - Saoirse. Elle ne semblait pas s'entendre bien avec Vorel, et Ali ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de se demander pourquoi. Était-ce simplement à cause d'une mauvaise première réunion? Ou y avait-il plus de tension cachée en dessous? Ali s'est ébranlée la tête. Elle ne pouvait pas divertir des pensées comme ça à une fête, surtout une avec laquelle elle allait se produire. « Eh bien, l'amour, les jolies dames sont toujours les bienvenues pour partager la scène avec moi », a-t-elle renvoyé en riant avec légèreté au clin d'œil. Saoirse semblait être le genre de personne qu'Ali aimait être dans les parages, mais elle ne comprenait toujours pas l'aversion de la rouquine pour Vorel. Peut-être à un autre moment et à un autre endroit, l'animosité entre eux ne serait pas si élevée. Elle agita une main en saluant Valesca, dont elle n'entendit l'introduction qu'à cause des sens aigus qui se développaient d'être trop dans les bois. Elle était sur le point de demander à Valesca si elle avait quelque chose à suggérer quand elle a entendu Vorel murmurer quelque chose sous son souffle. Suivant sa ligne de vue, elle a vu la fille solitaire d'avant - Jen, elle se souvient finalement, était un loup-garou comme Vorel - et le gars qui l'avait approchée. Elle ne s'était pas permis de le regarder beaucoup plus tôt, mais maintenant qu'elle l'a fait, il y avait une aura distincte autour de lui. Elle ne savait pas comment l'appeler, mais ça ne pouvait pas être bon. Elle s'est approchée de Vorel, assez pour pouvoir lui chuchoter dans le bar bondé. "Quelque chose de mal?"

Name: Alinea Crow Danea Nickname: Ali Age: 20 Gender: Female Sexuality: Homosexual Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: The The Masquerade - Beta Species: Shifter Occupation College Student | Part-timer at a local bookstore Likes: Music | The forest | Coffee Dislikes: The people she cares about getting hurt | Witches | Being mocked or looked down on Fears: Heights | Losing someone she cares about | Disappointing her father Personality: + Loyal | + Brave | + Charming | - Rash | - Stubborn | - Easily manipulated Ali is best described as a person "blooming in the garden of youth", or at least, that's how the elderly folk of Fall Hollow call her when they're in a particularly good mood. It was "damned teenage rascal" when they weren't. Either way, Ali is what you can call a typical teenager with her exhuberant energy and outgoing personality, with just a touch of rebelliousness to spice up the dish. She's the kind of person you'll see in different scenes, chatting with all the right people and effortlessly making friends with anyone she approaches. Ali's loyalty is fierce and unmatched by anything. For the people who have grown dear to her heart, you can be rest assured that Ali would do anything to help and protect you. Of course, it's also this fierce loyalty that can sometimes give Ali tunnel-vision and make her refrain from hearing the other side of a conflict. Her friends' enemies were her enemies, and nothing could change that in her mind even if her friends had been the ones in the wrong. It must be said that this has gotten Ali into trouble more than once, especially when it turned out that her so-called friends had only been manipulating her to do their every whim. Despite this, Ali has never learned. Ali is someone you can be assured would always be there for you, even if she can be a tad reckless at times. She always means well and is willing to lend a helping hand with a bright smile. History: It was the first of December, in the middle of one of the harshest winters experienced by Fall Hollow, when the youngest of the Danea clan entered the world. Julio Danea, the current patriarch of the household, had held his baby girl and announced that her name would be Crow for he was sure that like the rest of their family, the child's spirit animal would be one that made the sky its home and that she would be the best that their family had ever seen. When Ali's third birthday came and she met her spirit animal during one of the family's usual camping trips, her father couldn't be any more disappointed. Her spirit animal had been a black panther, and not the graceful flyer he had expected. Of course, Ali had been too young then to know what that revelation had done to her relationship with her father. Continuing her trend of going against the grain in her family's norms, she found that she had no affinity for strategizing. Unlike her father, grandfather, and great grandfather, she knew she would never take the role of advisor in The Masquerade. She had let her brothers be the ones to compete for that position. Her goal had been something more. As the years passed, Ali strengthened her bond with both her spirit animal and the multitude of land-bound creatures she had intently studied. Sure, she had also shifted into some sea creatures, but they didn't feel as comfortable as being on all fours on good, solid land. And so she honed her skills of transformation to the point that she could partially shift a little bit longer than most of the older shifters. Her physical strength wasn't something to be laughed at either. Before she knew it, she became one of the youngest betas in The Masquerade while her brothers had failed in their tasks of joining the gang as its advisor. Pride swelled up in Ali and she had turned to her father hoping to see the same in his eyes, but she found it wanting. Her relationship with her father remains rocky still and he continues to favour his two sons. He had even refused to let Ali work in the family business, the local animal shelter, which forced Ali to find a part-time job somewhere else. It seemed as though fate continually wanted to wedge an ever bigger gap between Ali and her father as it soon grew apparent that she held a passion for robotics, something that her father has always frowned upon thinking that further technological advancements would push the youth away from nature. Extra • She holds a deep hatred for witches as a dear friend of hers, a werewolf, had died in a skirmish between their two gangs. • She is the lead vocalist of a band she created with her friends in college. They're well-known in Fall Hollow but they only play for fun. Jokingly, they call themselves "Hodgepodge" because each of them are a different species from the other. • She still regularly goes on camping trips in the forest, sometimes even staying out in the wilderness for weeks.

Cela faisait partie de la raison pour laquelle Vorel détestait les clubs. Les premières conversations amicales ont été ruinées par des gens comme Saoirse. Il a toujours considéré qu'il était impoli de rejeter les dons aussi. Puis Valasca a voulu acheter les rounds. Vorel pouvait sentir que ce n'était pas censé être un up, mais c'était très inopportunement chronométré. Elle semblait polie, timide aussi. Vorel vient d'aller de l'avant et a bu avec eux et a décidé de laisser le barman légèrement confus décider qui donner l'onglet. "Merci. J'ai hâte de vous entendre aussi. Je suis sûr qu'il n'est pas facile de préparer des files d'attente pour des événements spéciaux comme ceux-ci." Ali a même accepté l'invitation de Saoirse à chanter. Vorel y a pensé un moment et s'est rendu compte que ces trois femmes pouvaient être de bonnes chanteuses. Si Saoirse était vraiment aussi confiante dans sa voix, alors elle devait être une bonne chanteuse. Ça ou elle était ivre, mais elle n'avait pas l'air enroulée ou sauvage. Les sirènes étaient parfois mélangées à des sirènes, et si Valasca avait ce que la plupart appelaient la voix d'une sirène, alors elle devait être céleste. Ali était payé pour chanter, alors même si c'était de petits événements, il la considérait toujours comme une chanteuse professionnelle. Vorel a visiblement été pris sur Jen et Cas. Ali l'interrogea tranquillement, mais son ardeur l'entendit bien. Il a gardé la conversation secrète avec Ali. "Et bien, cet homme là-bas à la table avec la fille. C'est un vieux démon, mais on sait qu'il volait des âmes autour de l'Hallow. Il a gardé un profil bas, mais la fille est une connaissance, et je ne veux pas qu'elle parte avec lui."

Name: Vorel Raiken Nickname: Vore Age: 34 Gender: Male Sexuality: Hetero Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Council Title: Alpha Male/ Werewolf Councillor Species: Werewolf Occupation Stockbroker Likes: Logic / Power / Women / The simple things in life. Dislikes: Stupidity / Laziness / Hot things Fears: Powerlessness / Losing Control / Fear itself Personality: Vorel is very controlling. He believes in maintaining control of every aspect of his life. This is different from the typical hot blooded werewolves he grew up around, but it's what he attributes to the success he holds today. He works very hard and is very smart as well. He is rather apathetic as well though. He shows little negative emotions and expects others to get over them as quickly as he does. He isn't the strongest werewolf, but underestimating him is a dire mistake. Being bullied as he grew has created a very tough being, both physically and mentally. He is rather patient, but doesn't take well to werewolves being threatened. History: Vorel was born to a set of strong parents. His mother was a Gamma and his father a Delta. He had several brothers and sisters, and his eldest brother is probably the strongest werewolf today. He has a respect for Vorel though, after he beat him up one day. Vorel didn't fight back, but later on his brother returned to his room and found everything was gone. As he turned around in shock, Vorel jumped him and beat him up in return. His brother had gotten in several fights where both sides fought until it was over, but Vorel held his anger until the moment was right. His brother realized the power behind this mentality and gave him due respect after that. He grew up strong, but many didn't like the attitude he kept about him. Though his brother wanted to help him when gangs came at him, he refused and took them on himself. He took many beatings growing up and returned retribution on many of his former enemies. A fear and respect grew about him as more experienced or heard of his work. If he wasn't enacting revenge or instilling fear, he was studying. His favorite subject was economics and he was quickly playing with stocks in his own time. As he began to make money, he began a business. As he rapidly made money, he expanded his business and soon found himself in control of very large amounts of money. A substantial amount was his own as well. With the fall of one of the councillors, he was the obvious choice for a replacement. His physical strength was among the highest in the pack, and his respect and financial control made him a prime candidate for Councillor. He accepted and has served for a few years now. He continues his business, but has faced a significant decrease in bullying. Even other council members have a respect for what this calm cannon may do next. With the werewolf kind backing him, he has plenty of options. Extra He really likes the way the moon lights up snow on a clear night after a fresh snowfall. He loves his suits as well.

Ses jambes lui ont fait mal, tellement damné. Les muscles avaient l'impression de se baigner dans la lave. Elle pouvait jurer que ses quads étaient sur le point de se détacher de la fatigue. Mais elle n'a pas arrêté de courir. Même si ses poumons brûlaient et criaient pour l'oxygène de la suractivité, elle n'arrêtait pas de courir. Pas si elle voulait vivre. Chaque fois qu'elle entendait le coup de feu qu'elle attendait d'une douleur brûlante, son cœur continuait de battre, elle s'attendait à ressentir plus que de la peur et de l'anxiété. La jeune adolescente s'attendait à voir sa vie éclater devant ses yeux avant qu'elle ne s'éloigne d'elle. Le sol était sec et robuste sous ses pieds, elle courait pour sa vie, faisant de son mieux pour le prolonger même si seulement pendant quelques minutes. Cependant, son corps était faible depuis quelques jours, elle était épuisée et courait simplement sur l'adrénaline. Bien qu'elle ne s'arrêtât pas, elle courait plus loin dans un entrepôt abandonné. Les coups de feu se sont arrêtés, c'était très calme dans l'obscurité, même le bruit des insectes n'a pas atteint ses oreilles. Elle s'est arrêtée. Elle ne pouvait plus courir, son cœur battait dans sa poitrine alors qu'elle essayait de reprendre son souffle. Tout se sentait faible et prêt à abandonner, en utilisant le soutien d'un bâtiment. Quelle chance y avait-il qu'une poignée d'hommes la trouvent si loin, osent suivre dans le noir. Il pensait qu'elle était en sécurité. Du moins, c'est ce qu'elle pensait. C'est alors qu'une figure ombreuse s'est évanouie devant elle, elle a pressé son corps dans le mur en espérant qu'il la protégerait de ce qui devait arriver. Une fois de plus, la figure de l'ombre a traversé sa ligne de vue, et encore et encore comme si elle jouait avec un jeune adolescent. Elle n'osait pas crier ou chuchoter un mot. Si elle faisait ces chasses, elle l'entendrait. Se moquant des lèvres, elle a refusé de risquer même de respirer. Ses yeux ambrés ont commencé à chercher dans l'obscurité, essayant de repérer la figure de l'ombre. Et puis il s'est envolé, cette créature furieuse est sortie de l'obscurité pour elle... Les heures tardives de la nuit ont lentement changé vers les premiers instants du matin. Le plateau de tirs a continué d'être apporté au groupe qui en peu de temps avait réussi à profiter de l'entreprise l'un de l'autre. Valasca était sur le point de commander une autre tournée de boissons quand son portable bourdonnait dans son jean. Atteindre l'appareil qu'elle a pris une gorgée de sa vodka avec du sel, son visage est devenu pâle au nombre familier et sans hésitation, elle a pressé accepter. Valasca se frotta lentement les yeux, se sentant groggy tandis que le monde autour de son écart d'un côté à l'autre. "Parlez-moi." Elle hoche la tête en poussant continuellement à travers la foule pour atteindre la sortie. Une fois dehors, elle a fait des allers-retours en essayant de combattre le vent froid. Elle s'est frottée le visage pendant que les détails lui étaient remis. "D'accord, ETA dans une dizaine d'années." En raccrochant, Merwoman a remis son téléphone dans sa poche. " C'est pas vrai." Encore une fois, le meurtre était arrivé à Fall Hollow.

Name: Valasca Del Viento Nickname: Val Age: 27 Gender: Female Sexuality: Asexual Panromantic Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Associate Title: Species: Mermaid Occupation Mortician Likes: - Death - Salty Foods - Her daily swims Dislikes: - Anyone who treats her clients ill - Being lied to - Sweets - Theft Fears: Have her establishment and sanctuary taken from her Personality: Now that Valasca’s been living in Fall Hollow, she finally feels free for the first time in her life. She doesn't need to change her name or hide who she is. However, despite that freedom, old habits die hard. Despite her warm and caring nature, Valasca is still very much a secretive and closed off individual that has a great deal of trouble opening up to people about who she really is or letting them into her more private life. This can make her come off as a bit distant, but despite that she is still never much a caring mortician that will go above and beyond for her patients. She is more than happy to take care of her clients needs as well as take notes on the various different species in the city to further her knowledge. History: Valasca was born in the murky waters of a town that was submerged in water to stop the flooding of Spain five decades ago. Unlike most pods who stuck to areas easily evacuated the pod Valasca was born to had a higher purpose, or so they believed. Valasca pod was connected to others who all believed in their own Gods that lived in the stars above, a world they considered to be a vast ocean. To make it to this place in the after life their role in the life they currently lead was to care for those bodies tossed off boats, thrown from peers to hide murders, sunken graves and mere accidents. They were to help these people move to their own afterlife. So when the town of Capel Celyn sank and became the reservoir it turned into their pod home, to watch over the graves of those who had now sunk beneath the water. The devotion to their religion was a heavy one. They prayed to a mermaid who was as big as the earth, she had formed the oceans with her body, carved them as she swam through the infinite waters of the life beyond, a world that rested on top of their own. It was not just her though, their were many mermaids, each representing something new. Interitus was merely the main one, the one who judged them at the end of their time to decide if they began anew, having to try again, or made it through to a new life in the waters above. Like most in the pod Valasca took her devotion to Interitus seriously, praying to her, making offerings and participating in the rituals of the tribe. One of the main rituals was the summoning of the spirits to bless them. It was the one that focused most on the deceased beings, praised them as those of a higher purpose as they were in the world beyond the one where Valasca and her pod rested. This was where Valasca's obsession with death began. Even the sea creatures she feasted on she treated with the utmost care, making sure their move into the world beyond was a gracious one. Things only escalated when she was sent to perform the ritual to adulthood. One of the few females who were sent out she was expected to return home for the future of their pod. Valasca didn’t. Much like the ritual of Rumspringa the mermaids were to go to the surface for seven evenings and return the wiser for it. Valasca instead found herself half intoxicated with desire and half sick with hate at the ease of access she had to death. The parts of animals that lay on display for others to judge and chose for consumption revolting her but then there were large homes, homes that looked after the dead, treated them with a beautiful respect and laid them to rest in exquisite manners. Valasca believed she had found her calling. Wales was nice for a while. Valasca trained as a mortician at a funeral parlour she found by the sea. Her hours were whenever someone knew came in and since the town was small she was able to spend as much time as she needed in the water. However she was constantly hiding and the rumors of people seeing a mermaid sprang about. Even cutting her hair seemed to make no difference. This was when she met a man, her heart still. Valasca's pod with their special connection to death she knew what the man was immediately. Valasca introduced herself - looking for someone in the town who it turned out had moved on - as a member of the vampire council in a town in America. He offered Valasca passage there but she declined, knowing she wouldn't be able to survive that long without water, and instead accepted directions. In Fall Hollow she took a job at the towns local morgue, the one used by police and most of the town since it was convenient. Unlike in Wales deaths in Fall Hollow were unexplained and with everyone's desire to dispose of the bodies in unseemly ways Valasca made herself open to all the killers in Fall Hollow. She would hide their mistakes and in return she could give them the treatment they deserved. Each body prepared to the best she could manage, prayers and blessings made over the body before she reduced them to the earth, sea or smoke depending on their own species or religion she could make out. For the most part she keeps to herself, though over the past five years she's lived in Fall Hollow she has spent a lot at local vampire hang outs. On Fall Hollow lies a sanctuary lead by young mermaid, for all supernatural creatures. The building attached to the funeral offers a place for non-humans to live free of persecution and follow what paths they desire, whether that’s as regular townsfolk and business owners, criminals and shady dealers. However, in return each tenant must work at the funeral. Extra

C'est gentil de vous rencontrer Jen, a répondu Cas. Elle semblait extrêmement distrait par son apparence, donc il a décidé de jouer avec cela. Tous les démons sur le plan mortel étaient attrayants, hommes ou femmes. Une partie de la tentation. Cas étiré de façon luxueuse, levant les mains au-dessus de sa tête et exposant son midriff bien tonique. Dans le fond de son esprit, il pouvait pratiquement sentir Mariel rouler les yeux. Désolé, il a dit. Un peu de douleur après le travail aujourd'hui. Donc, Jen, une question que j'aime toujours poser à de nouveaux amis : disons que vous avez trouvé un génie, et qu'il vous a donné trois vœux. Qu'est-ce qu'ils seraient? Ne pas souhaiter pour plus de vœux cependant, qui est trop évident, de Cas riait. Un léger picotement a brusquement fait savoir à Cas que quelqu'un le regardait très attentivement. Un rapide coup d'œil sur l'épaule de Jen a trouvé la source; un homme bien habillé faisant des coups de feu avec un groupe de femmes. Il était assez beau, Cas devrait aller lui parler une fois qu'il a fini avec Jen pour ce soir. C'était une chance plutôt mince qu'elle s'engageait si vite dans son âme, alors Cas prévoyait de développer une amitié plus étroite avant d'entrer trop fortement dans le business sérieux. Les stands d'une nuit étaient à peine les gens les plus fiables, donc Jen était physiquement hors limites ce soir. Le gars bien habillé ferait bien à sa place.

Name: Jennifer Flint Nickname: Jen Age: 19 Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Omega Title: Species: Werewolf Occupation Baker Likes: Italian food, Romance novels, Chess, Drawing Dislikes: Violence, Tidiness, Hospitals Fears: Being thrown out of her pack Personality: Kind, Quiet, Generous, Timid, Easily Frightened, Easy to Push Around Jen has little to no self confidence. She doesn't think that she'll achieve much in life, and just wants to live peacefully. She's a pushover, and is easily ordered around. Though she is timid, she is still willing to talk to people if it is necessary. Her greatest strength is her kindness and generosity. She is always willing to help someone in need, no matter their race, species or gender. History: Jen was born to a Beta of the pack and a 'strong' Omega. She had high expectations from her father, the Beta, and tried her best to live up to them. However, it wasn't in her personality or body to be the wolf her father wanted. He viewed her as weak, both mentally and physically. When she was 16, her father passed away, still disappointed in his daughter. She has been living on her own in a one bedroom apartment since then, regretting every day that she couldn't make him proud, not even once. Extra

Jen a réfléchi un instant. "Je suppose que je demanderais la fin de la guerre pour commencer. Et je demanderais probablement la fin de la faim dans le monde en même temps. Quant à la dernière..." Elle s'est calmée pendant quelques secondes, avant de rougir brillamment, "Je préfère ne pas dire." La dernière partie est sortie comme un cri, trahissant son embarras à ce qu'elle avait pensé. Cela n'a pas été aidé par la façon dont il montrait son corps, le cerveau de Jen ayant une surcharge comme plusieurs signaux tirés à travers elle, la plupart d'entre eux étant l'excitation et la terreur pure. Qu'est-ce qu'il fait en me parlant? Il y a un tas d'autres filles plus sexy ici, pense-t-elle à elle-même.

Name: Jennifer Flint Nickname: Jen Age: 19 Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Gang Rank: Omega Title: Species: Werewolf Occupation Baker Likes: Italian food, Romance novels, Chess, Drawing Dislikes: Violence, Tidiness, Hospitals Fears: Being thrown out of her pack Personality: Kind, Quiet, Generous, Timid, Easily Frightened, Easy to Push Around Jen has little to no self confidence. She doesn't think that she'll achieve much in life, and just wants to live peacefully. She's a pushover, and is easily ordered around. Though she is timid, she is still willing to talk to people if it is necessary. Her greatest strength is her kindness and generosity. She is always willing to help someone in need, no matter their race, species or gender. History: Jen was born to a Beta of the pack and a 'strong' Omega. She had high expectations from her father, the Beta, and tried her best to live up to them. However, it wasn't in her personality or body to be the wolf her father wanted. He viewed her as weak, both mentally and physically. When she was 16, her father passed away, still disappointed in his daughter. She has been living on her own in a one bedroom apartment since then, regretting every day that she couldn't make him proud, not even once. Extra

Mon cœur a soif d'effusion de sang contre les ennemis de la Horde, mais je sais dans mon cœur que la guerre n'est que lorsque le but ultime est la paix. Je ferai donc la guerre à ces « croisés de l'Écarlate » et aux morts-vivants jusqu'à ce que tous les ennemis soient partis et que les humains de Lordareon puissent retourner à Stratholme, afin que la Lumière et les Ancêtres puissent amener la réconciliation entre nos peuples, la Horde et l'Alliance. Ma hache est prête et ma tête est claire. Les Aventuriers ont atteint la Chapelle de l'Espoir de Lumière, et se reposent pour se préparer à l'assaut. Il ne reste plus qu'à choisir des cibles. Devrions-nous attaquer la croisade écarlate dans le bastion écarlate, ou devons-nous aller après le scorurge et leur plus grand nombre d'abord? Quoi qu'il en soit, le cœur de mon guerrier et l'esprit de prêtre seront satisfaits. Lok'tar'ogar, la victoire ou la mort! Rogrelg a fermé son journal avant de sortir de la chapelle, afin de voir le parti réuni qui avait accepté la Commission d'Aube d'Argent. Parmi eux figurait un ancien Dalaran Mage, l'un des pouvoirs moyens. Les autres, eh bien, ils étaient un peu génériques et non descriptifs, mais toujours de bons guerriers de toute façon. Un mélange de races Alliance et Horde, avec les elfes de nuit et certains Forsaken et Blood Elfes, ce sont les fleurs de ce qu'Azéroth avait à offrir. C'était aussi un Makura? Quelle curiosité! Quoi qu'il en soit, armé d'engins moyens, certains enchantés, certains banals, et un ou deux de matériaux magiques, le raid a été préparé pour leur premier, hautement payé, travail. -- Très bien, dit Rogrelg, mon nom est Rogrelg Shining-Hand, et oui, je suis prêtre de la Lumière Sainte, évêque sous l'archevêque d'Orgrimmar. Cela signifie que je surpasse tous les prêtres parmi vous, même si je suis un « Orc sanguinaire ». Mais, encore une fois, la plupart d'entre nous ont une tolérance pour le sang; autrement, nous ne serions pas au front. » Il a ensuite regardé Hallam Ramsey. "Vous, vous avez de l'expérience avec les morts-vivants, n'est-ce pas? Sans parler de ça pour l'instant, tu es le seul à se démarquer de ce gang. Donc, je vous nomme mon second commandant." Rogrelg était contondant. « Et, en ce qui concerne votre premier devoir, je vais vous demander quelle option prendre dans le prochain raid. L'Aurore d'argent a déjà créé deux stratégies distinctes pour le côté tenu par Scarlet et les districts détenus par la Scourge. » « Fondamentalement, Stratholme a deux entrées, la porte principale, et l'entrée de service, et deux côtés, centrés autour des deux structures du bastion écarlate, tenu par la croisade écarlate et la maison Slaugther, le centre des opérations de la Scurge. L'entrée de service peut être choisie par cette clé, » Rogrelg a ensuite produit une petite clé dans sa main, « mais mène presque exclusivement au côté des morts-vivants ». « Le côté des morts-vivants a l'inconvénient que l'ennemi soit plus nombreux, mais plus facilement détruit par le feu et la magie de la Lumière. Le côté écarlate entre-temps, est tenu par des soldats de haute qualité et fanatisme, mais nombre beaucoup moins. Cependant, les deux choix sont risqués, puisqu'il n'y a que 15 d'entre nous, y compris moi, qui demandons la question: Comment pouvons-nous gagner? Et bien, c'est là que les plans entrent en jeu." "Il y a longtemps, avant le scorurge, le chef Thrall a attaqué la ville pour sauver un Orc sur le point d'être exécuté, Eitrigg. Il l'a fait sans tuer de civils, et en outre, il s'agissait d'une attaque furtive, qui profitait de diverses ruelles, tunnels, et bien sûr, des diverses forces de la nature que commandait le chef de guerre. J'ai été un témoin personnel - et un participant - à cela." "Regarde-moi en train de draguer. Je veux dire, je connais les ruelles et les tunnels qui peuvent nous mener soit au Scarlet Bastion, soit au Slaugtherhouse. Et vous fournissez les pouvoirs de la nature et de la magie arcane qui peuvent nous faire passer tous les changements faits dans la ville par les différentes calamités qui l'ont frappé. Enfin, je suis un canal pour la Lumière Sainte." Rogrelg les regarda ensuite. "Quelle est la raison pour laquelle je crois que nous devrions faire le choix d'attaquer l'un ou l'autre ennemi maintenant, alors nous pourrions juste gagner."

1: Name: Rogrelg Shining-Hand, Bishop of Orgrimmar under the Archbishop of Theramore. 2: Age: 24 3: Sex: Male 4: Place of Birth: Ruins of Stormwind. 5: Equipment: Black Cloth Robes with leather pauldrons and an Argent Dawn Tabard, as well as a One-Handed Mace, and occassionally an Axe. 6: History: Rogrelg was born near the Ruins of Stormwind, as the Orcs were preparing to head north towards Lordareon. His clan, the Dragonmaw, managed to enslave the Dragonqueen Alexstraza using an artifact known as the Demon Soul, winning them draconic mounts; one of the Orc's first memories was seeing these beasts departing from the citadel of Grin Batol in order to conduct areial missions against the Alliance. However, such days would not soon last, as the Alliance eventually defeated Rogrelg's people, and promptly imprisoned them into an internment camp to suffer from withdrawal symptoms, symptoms born from the demonic energy that had been used to addict the Orcs towards conquest and bloodshed. In the Internment Camp, Rogrelg grew up further, knowing hazy days of lethargy and cravings that he could not recall the cure of, punctuated by abuse from the human guards. It would have lasted forever (or so he thought) before rumors spread of a stranger who had been infiltrating Orc Camps, a stranger with powers over nature. Said stranger was Thrall, then a second-in-command to Orgrim Doomhammer. And Orgrim himself, with the aforementioned Thrall, would liberate the camp Rogrelg was inacerated, with Orgrim dying that day. And Thrall, Thrall became Warchief, and Rogrelg's life would never be the same, for Thrall brought with him hope, hope not just for liberation, but dignity, dignity and a new way. Rogrelg absorbed the teachings of Thrall, of the new Warchief's words of Shamanism and restoration of tradition. But, as he learned more about his history and the Orcs' fraught relations with humanity, he began to wonder; was the restoration of the old ways enough? True, it was good to restore their spirit, but wasn't there a reason Shamanism failed before? Didn't the Orcs find it easy to turn back on the guidance of the Ancestors and Spirits? And he saw how the Humans called upon their own forces, forces of bright light and arcane power. What gave them such power? Cannot such power be put in service of their atonement? If Humans were the aggrieved party before the Internment Camps, why not learn more about them? But those thoughts were kept secret, until Kalimdor, where, after a time of fighting against the Alliance expedition, the Orcs and Humans combined together against the Burning Legion and the Undead, leading him to finally come in contact with the practitioners of the Holy Light. Of course, the Priests and Paladins at first refused to answer his questions, but the young Orc was nothing if not persistent. And between bouts of fighting the Undead, Rogrelg was finally allowed to find out more...and what he found, what he found began to answer his questions. Thrall's teachings were still valid, he knew this, but that didn't change the fact that there were multiple sources of truth, and The Light was one of them. The Light was bright, beautiful, and compassionate; it was not the Humans' fault that the Orcs had forced them to use it for war, and then deny its compassion to them, or at least, that was what Rogrelg believed. His final moment of conversion came at Mount Hyjal, where, during the battle for the Orc Camp, the he was heavily wounded, while in the infirmary, there were a lack of healing Shamans. However, Jaina Proudmoore had sent several Priests to help heal the wounded Horde Members, and Rogrelg's health was restored in record time, allowing him to feel the glory of the Light firsthand. That was when he decided: he can revere both the Light, the Spirits, and Ancestors. And so he would. 7: Random Information: - Ever since finding out that the Red Dragons were the guardians of Life in Azeroth, Rogrelg has sworn an oath to atone for his clan's enslavement of their kind. - Rogrelg, being a former warrior, can still call on his martial skill in desperate moments. - Also, the title 'Bishop of Orgrimmar' is an accurate one; he really did get appointed to that position by the (unnamed, Original Character) archbishop of Theramore.

Cela faisait longtemps qu'Hallam avait revêtu ses robes de Dalaran et utilisé son personnel volé. Eh bien, volé n'était pas tout à fait le bon mot, pillé serait un terme plus précis - mais il pensait qu'il était juste que pour son retour sur le continent de sa naissance, il porterait les vêtements de sa ville natale. Ils étaient en bonne forme, mendiés par une sorte de Gnome à Theramore, sinon peu importe le sentiment qu'il ne les aurait pas amenés. Bien sûr, il avait maintenant un tabouret d'Argent Dawn tiré sur le tissu fin, mais cela ne pouvait pas être aidé même s'il avait voulu qu'il parte, les autres Argents auraient besoin d'un moyen de le reconnaître, d'ailleurs; c'était agréable de se sentir comme s'il faisait partie de quelque chose de plus grand. Inspectant une dernière fois sa réflexion dans le bol d'eau, Hallam s'est assuré qu'il n'avait pas l'air de dormir depuis des jours. Cet endroit a ramené de vieux souvenirs, donnant vie à des cauchemars qu'il avait eus depuis l'automne. À partir de maintenant, il courait sur une variété de potions et ce qu'il pouvait racler loin de ses quelques siestes de puissance convenables. Il n'arrivait pas à dormir la nuit, donc il avait pris des quarts de nuit aussi souvent qu'il le pouvait pour avoir une excuse pour faire la sieste dans la journée. Décidant que sa dernière tentative de sommeil avait été suffisante - et cela devait l'être, parce qu'il ne dormait plus aujourd'hui - Hallam s'est lavé le visage et a quitté sa tente pour se préparer à leur assaut sur la ville. Il se souvenait de Stratholme, au moins faiblement, sa tante s'y était installée et, à l'occasion, sa mère l'emmenait rendre visite à sa famille dans la ville. Il n'avait pas l'air de s'en souvenir, tout était pourri et mort. Même la pierre s'écroulait et était faible. les arbres étaient les pires cependant, ils ressemblaient qu'ils criaient, ou ils le faisaient quand il y avait des arbres du tout, une grande forêt de champignons avait jailli à la recherche de tout le monde comme s'il avait été là depuis l'aube du temps. C'est ainsi que s'enracinent les Scourges, non seulement les morts-vivants eux-mêmes, mais leur tanière et leur corruption s'emparaient depuis longtemps de la terre même et riaient devant les vivants alors qu'elle transformait leur belle patrie en une ruine méconnaissable. Hallam est tombé en marche avec les autres alors que le groupe a commencé à se rassembler autour de l'Orc qui les a menés. Il a été forcé de cacher son dégoût, n'ayant jamais aimé Orcs, il a trouvé particulièrement frustrant de suivre son avance. Pourtant, ce ne serait pas en charge s'il n'était pas digne de la position. Il pensait pouvoir lui faire confiance pour l'instant, si profond dans le territoire ennemi, il était peu probable que la Horde se retournerait sur eux, ou du moins pas jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient à nouveau en sécurité et hors de la portée de la Scurge. Il se méfiait, mais il avait entendu des histoires d'Orcs sauvages rapatrier des villages avant la Scurge. Ils essayaient seulement de libérer leurs frères Hallam savait, mais ils n'avaient certainement aucune chance de prendre une vie humaine tout en le faisant. Il ferait de son mieux pour s'assurer que cet Orc ne l'a pas tué dans cette campagne. -- Très bien, dit Rogrelg, mon nom est Rogrelg Shining-Hand, et oui, je suis prêtre de la Lumière Sainte, évêque sous l'archevêque d'Orgrimmar. Cela signifie que je surpasse tous les prêtres parmi vous, même si je suis un « Orc sanguinaire ». Mais, encore une fois, la plupart d'entre nous ont une tolérance pour le sang; autrement, nous ne serions pas au front. » Il a ensuite regardé Hallam Ramsey. Un prêtre? Hallam pensait, les sourcils tiraient vers le haut par surprise. Comme si j'avais besoin de plus de preuves de la faillibilité de la Lumière, je l'ai ici. Hallam n'avait jamais été le plus fervent suiveur de la Lumière, mais il l'avait néanmoins respecté, l'avait fait jusqu'à l'automne. Les prêtres de Dalaran avaient été abattus comme tant de veaux nouveau-nés trébuchants, impuissants contre la lame d'un Chevalier de la Mort, il semblait à chaque tour qu'il y avait la Lumière, sans les aider, pour les sauver. Il avait voyagé avec un prêtre cette année-là échoué dans les Foothills, chaque jour la foi de l'homme avait un peu plus séché jusqu'à ce que la Lumière ne lui réponde plus. Regardez-le, la Lumière donnait des cadeaux à des envahisseurs sauvages et sanguinaires? Comme c'est ironique. "Vous, vous avez de l'expérience avec les morts-vivants, n'est-ce pas? Sans parler de ça pour l'instant, tu es le seul à se démarquer de ce gang. Donc, je vous nomme mon second commandant." Rogrelg était contondant. « Et, en ce qui concerne votre premier devoir, je vais vous demander quelle option prendre dans le prochain raid. L'Aurore d'argent a déjà créé deux stratégies distinctes pour le côté tenu par Scarlet et les districts détenus par la Scourge. » Hallam renversa ses pensées suspectes, tirant sa meilleure personnalité professionnelle au premier plan. Peu importe que c'était un Orc, il y avait un travail à faire et il allait le faire. Aujourd'hui, ils étaient unis, et le Scurge brûlait devant eux. Il écouta attentivement les options de l'Aube ici, en expliquant comment ses propres connaissances les aideraient dans leur mission. "Les Scarlet sont notre meilleure option, je pense." Hallam l'a dit après un moment. "Notre seule option, je crois. Ils sont bien fortifiés, ce qui nous permettra d'entrer et de prendre en charge leurs fortifications. Cela nous donnera le temps de nous regrouper avant de passer à la Scurge. Sinon, ils sauteraient à l'occasion de nous combattre une fois que nous aurons libéré le Scourge, et en plein air, nous n'aurions aucun avantage contre leurs positions défensives s'ils nous poussaient de derrière. Peut-être pourrions-nous les prendre de toute façon, mais je pense qu'il vaut mieux viser tous les avantages que nous pouvons obtenir, nécessaires ou non. » Il tourna les yeux d'acier sur les autres membres de leur parti, en montant leur équipage sérieusement. "Je m'attends à ce que chacun de vous combatte votre plus grand, retire tous vos tours et utilise vos meilleures capacités, parce que la moindre erreur ici vous verra un sort pire que la mort. Les croisés vous emmèneront pour un interrogatoire, mais ne vous trompez pas la jolie formulation, c'est juste une excuse pour torturer. Après, ils brûleront votre corps. Si vous avez de la chance, ils croiront que vous êtes entaché de toute façon, ils pourraient vous jeter dans les ruelles pour que les nécromants trouvent. Mais c'est la vraie menace. Leurs armes sont infestées par les pires sortes de malédictions et de maladies, leurs griffes et leurs dents sont particulièrement douloureuses lorsqu'elles déchirent la chair - ne leur donnez pas l'occasion de l'essayer! Et si vous tombez, ne doutez pas que vous êtes le destin ; vous servirez le Roi Lich. Vous ne pouvez pas espérer une autre pause de chance comme Sylvanus et le Forsaken l'ont obtenu, et même alors serait-ce une chance du tout? Ils ne le pensent certainement pas. Soyez intelligent, soyez rapide, soyez implacable. Vous portez les espoirs d'Azéroth à votre charge, et vous livrez la vengeance des tombés dans votre agression." Ce n'est pas son discours le plus inspirant, mais c'est ce qu'il a compris. Tout ce qu'ils ont de moins ne suffirait pas. Il avait même souligné deux sources parfaitement utilisables pour puiser plus de force de : l'espoir et la vengeance.

1: Name: Hallam Ramsey 2: Age: 24 3: Sex: M 4: Place of Birth: Strahnbrad, Lordaeron 5: Equipment: Dalaran Mage's Staff, Scourge Sacrificial Dagger, Dalaran Mage's Robes, Theramore Marsh Boots 6: History: Hallam was born in Strahnbrad and well on his way to following in his father's footsteps to become a hunter to provide food for his home, but in an act of teenage rebellion he ran away from home to study in Dalaran. He'd long envied his neighbor, Enchanter Millius, and his ability to use magic. He knew his father would never allow him to learn, so he took matters into his own hands. He did not often regret his decision, not until the Scourge marched on Dalaran. He escaped with a handful of other residents, but they fought hard to reach safety. They found it in Tarren Mills for a time, but the influx of refugees to the town made it too good of a target to pass up and the town was destroyed by the Scourge. Hallam spent nearly a year on the run before finally the Scourge-Forsaken conflict allowed him to break through and find Southshore. From there he was evacuated to Kalimdor. Relieved as he was to return to studying magic, Hallam never forgot his experiences in Lordaeron. He eventually left to learn in the world instead of in a library. He tested his talents and skills by helping the Alliance in Dustwallow Marsh and the Barrens, but soon he found himself considering the Argent Dawn. A cause worth his service and coin worth his time; what's not to like? 7: Random Information: (Dunno how much of this last bit is relevant but better have it and not need it than not have it and need it.) Appearance - Specialization - Arcane Primary Professions - Herbalism (Expert), Alchemy (Expert) Secondary Professions - Archeaology (Apprentice), Cooking (Journeyman), First Aid (Journeyman) Family - Allard Ramsey (Father; Deceased), Lorabel Ramsey (Mother; Deceased), Juston Ramsey (Brother; Deceased)

Cela fait longtemps que Kalania, avait quitté ses forêts et commencé à voyager dans le monde. Au début, elle a voyagé autour de Kalimdor après la guerre et cela s'est avéré assez intéressant en fait. Son apparence a toujours fait que plus de quelques personnes se retournent sur sa direction et la regardent avec des yeux curieux. Surtout autour de Theramore où les humains résidaient. Ils étaient particulièrement curieux d'elle et l'inverse était aussi vrai. Elle passe quelques semaines à Theramore, étudiant les humains, la même chose était avec les orques à Ogrimmar. On peut facilement dire qu'elle a beaucoup voyagé... elle a failli mourir quelques fois, mais elle a apprécié l'inattendu. Finalement, elle a rencontré des membres de l'Argent Dawn et cette rencontre s'est avérée très fructueuse pour Kalania. Elle a appris qu'il y avait encore des gens qui luttaient contre un conflit qui sortait des yeux du grand public. Elle savait au fond de son cœur que le danger pour ce monde n'avait pas pris fin avec la bataille pour Hyjal. Le fléau existait encore et les adorateurs démoniaques erraient encore dans le monde. Elle a même appris un danger de la part de certains êtres appelés "Anciens" ou quelque chose comme ça. Depuis ce jour-là, elle a rencontré ces gens, et elle s'est jointe à l'Aurore d'argent. Elle s'est révélée être un membre très utile de l'organisation, en particulier son immunité envers la magie et sa capacité à l'abolir. C'est pourquoi elle a même voyagé sur les continents est et maintenant elle se dirigeait vers cet endroit connu comme la chapelle de lumière ou la chapelle de l'espoir de lumière... ou quelque chose comme ça c'était! Au moins, elle en était sûre. Elle se précipitait vers sa destination car elle est en retard... encore! Qui aurait cru que prendre ce virage à droite au carrefour pour vérifier ces ruines, allait prendre tellement de temps! Le fait qu'il s'agissait d'une journée n'a pas beaucoup aidé... elle avait l'habitude de faire la sieste pendant la journée et elle est en mouvement depuis environ 12 heures maintenant. Enfin, elle était à la Chapelle!!! Elle pouvait entendre les gens parler, donc elle devait être au bon endroit! Elle sourit alors qu'elle se précipitait encore plus, ne voyant pas une grosse dalle de pierre sur le sol. » Je suis désolé, je suis laaaaaaaaaaaaaaate!!!!!!Elle a commencé à dire en trébuchant sur la dalle avec ses jambes avant et est tombée au sol avec un fort bruit et a crié à la fois dans la surprise et la douleur.

1: Name: Kalania 2: Age: 150 3: Sex: Female 4: Place of Birth: Ashenvale, within the forest north west of Astranaar. 5: Equipment: 5 dryad spears, silk shirt, leather armor, backpack. 6: History: Kalania is a young Dryad that was born near the town of Astranaar. Among the other dryads withing their grove, Kalania was quick to learn everything the older dryads taught her. While many of her kind were more predisposed towards the druid arts, Kalania actually turned out to be quite the warrior. Her spear was strong, her attack fast and her throws were incredibly accurate like with all of her kind. Originally she was content with tending to the forest along with the other dryads, but everything changed when the strange invaders appeared from beyond the ocean. Originally she and the rest of her grove were away from the areas where the green skinned invaders were desecrating the ancient forests so she didn't get to fight them, but when their leader and father Cenarius was brought down by the green monsters, it felt like a part of them died in that moment. She felt it with her entire being and for a first time since she was born, she felt anger and hatred. Later when it was all revealed to be a plot of the Legion, she joined the front line fights alongside the night elves. She was at Mount Hyjal when the last battle occurred where they allied with the humans and the Horde. She never really completely overcome her hatred towards Orcs, but learned to stand it and not let it control her actions. Now after the war ended, she just couldn't stay in the forest anymore. She felt the desire to leave and explore the world. In the war she met many people from other races, even the invaders from beyond the ocean. She felt drawn towards the unknown now more than ever. Thus she left her forest just as she did during the war, but this time to explore on her own. It was in her travels that she learned of the Argent Dawn and their struggle against all the forces that try to claim this world. She was a defender of nature, so this cause seemed close enough with her utmost duty. 7: Random Information: -Abilities: Abolish magic(active), Slow poison(passive), Spell immunity(passive)

Bonjour, Kalania, a dit Rogrelg d'un ton légèrement heureux; il connaissait d'elle, bien qu'il ne savait pas si elle connaissait de lui. Néanmoins, il avait entendu parler d'elle, l'aventurier Dryad qui avait rejoint l'Aube. "De toute façon, mieux vaut tard que jamais, je devrais dire. Nevetheless... nous sommes sur le point d'aller à Stratholme, et Hallam - le Mage Humain à Dalaran Robes, et aussi le nouveau commandant en second - a suggéré que nous allons à la place de Scarlet Crusade là-bas d'abord." "Je suis d'accord avec lui, et nous allons avoir besoin de vos compétences en poison pour accomplir notre mission." Dans son esprit, Rogrelg était déjà en train d'évaluer son plan d'entrée; un Dryad était presque aussi grand qu'un Tauren, mais aussi beaucoup plus délicat - aucune offense prévue. Un ensemble différent de tunnels et d'entrées serait alors nécessaire dans son plan d'entrée. "Si bien, nous partons à..." c'était encore tôt le matin, "Noonday; c'est là que nous pouvons voir le mieux. Mangez, hissez vos armes, et préparez-vous autrement." Il regarda ensuite le Makura. "C'est Zik, nous devons parler en privé aussi, c'est à propos d'Hydromancy." Il avait une forme spéciale de magie chamanique qui lui a permis de mieux faire appel à l'eau, de changer ses propriétés, de le déplacer et de guérir avec elle, mais pas aussi bien qu'un prêtre.

1: Name: Rogrelg Shining-Hand, Bishop of Orgrimmar under the Archbishop of Theramore. 2: Age: 24 3: Sex: Male 4: Place of Birth: Ruins of Stormwind. 5: Equipment: Black Cloth Robes with leather pauldrons and an Argent Dawn Tabard, as well as a One-Handed Mace, and occassionally an Axe. 6: History: Rogrelg was born near the Ruins of Stormwind, as the Orcs were preparing to head north towards Lordareon. His clan, the Dragonmaw, managed to enslave the Dragonqueen Alexstraza using an artifact known as the Demon Soul, winning them draconic mounts; one of the Orc's first memories was seeing these beasts departing from the citadel of Grin Batol in order to conduct areial missions against the Alliance. However, such days would not soon last, as the Alliance eventually defeated Rogrelg's people, and promptly imprisoned them into an internment camp to suffer from withdrawal symptoms, symptoms born from the demonic energy that had been used to addict the Orcs towards conquest and bloodshed. In the Internment Camp, Rogrelg grew up further, knowing hazy days of lethargy and cravings that he could not recall the cure of, punctuated by abuse from the human guards. It would have lasted forever (or so he thought) before rumors spread of a stranger who had been infiltrating Orc Camps, a stranger with powers over nature. Said stranger was Thrall, then a second-in-command to Orgrim Doomhammer. And Orgrim himself, with the aforementioned Thrall, would liberate the camp Rogrelg was inacerated, with Orgrim dying that day. And Thrall, Thrall became Warchief, and Rogrelg's life would never be the same, for Thrall brought with him hope, hope not just for liberation, but dignity, dignity and a new way. Rogrelg absorbed the teachings of Thrall, of the new Warchief's words of Shamanism and restoration of tradition. But, as he learned more about his history and the Orcs' fraught relations with humanity, he began to wonder; was the restoration of the old ways enough? True, it was good to restore their spirit, but wasn't there a reason Shamanism failed before? Didn't the Orcs find it easy to turn back on the guidance of the Ancestors and Spirits? And he saw how the Humans called upon their own forces, forces of bright light and arcane power. What gave them such power? Cannot such power be put in service of their atonement? If Humans were the aggrieved party before the Internment Camps, why not learn more about them? But those thoughts were kept secret, until Kalimdor, where, after a time of fighting against the Alliance expedition, the Orcs and Humans combined together against the Burning Legion and the Undead, leading him to finally come in contact with the practitioners of the Holy Light. Of course, the Priests and Paladins at first refused to answer his questions, but the young Orc was nothing if not persistent. And between bouts of fighting the Undead, Rogrelg was finally allowed to find out more...and what he found, what he found began to answer his questions. Thrall's teachings were still valid, he knew this, but that didn't change the fact that there were multiple sources of truth, and The Light was one of them. The Light was bright, beautiful, and compassionate; it was not the Humans' fault that the Orcs had forced them to use it for war, and then deny its compassion to them, or at least, that was what Rogrelg believed. His final moment of conversion came at Mount Hyjal, where, during the battle for the Orc Camp, the he was heavily wounded, while in the infirmary, there were a lack of healing Shamans. However, Jaina Proudmoore had sent several Priests to help heal the wounded Horde Members, and Rogrelg's health was restored in record time, allowing him to feel the glory of the Light firsthand. That was when he decided: he can revere both the Light, the Spirits, and Ancestors. And so he would. 7: Random Information: - Ever since finding out that the Red Dragons were the guardians of Life in Azeroth, Rogrelg has sworn an oath to atone for his clan's enslavement of their kind. - Rogrelg, being a former warrior, can still call on his martial skill in desperate moments. - Also, the title 'Bishop of Orgrimmar' is an accurate one; he really did get appointed to that position by the (unnamed, Original Character) archbishop of Theramore.

Il a fallu un moment à Hallam pour déterminer ce qu'il regardait. Il semblait que Night Elven, avait même l'accent Kaldorei autant qu'il pouvait le dire, mais le corps était tout faux. Il a d'abord pensé que c'était un elfe de nuit sur une montagne qu'il n'avait pas encore vu, mais ensuite il a remarqué la fusion des deux formes. Il est arrivé à la conclusion que la forme changeait, il avait vu un druide sur un de ses quelques voyages à Feralas, mais la forme n'a pas changé du tout, c'était juste... Comme c'est étrange. Il brouillait pour une explication, fronçant profondément la femme comme il la considérait. Il s'est alors souvenu des alliés des elfes de nuit. Elle doit être l'une d'entre elles. Ses tentatives de converser avec Kaldorei avaient été étêtées et des altercations inconfortables, de sorte qu'il ne connaissait pas beaucoup d'entre eux ou leurs alliés. Peut-être qu'il réessayerait avec ce Dryad, elle semblait... amicale? Awkward était un meilleur mot, mais il ne voulait pas être trop impoli. Hallam a hurlé de façon incertaine comme Rogrelg a accepté son plan, il n'était pas sûr pourquoi l'Orc était si... raisonnable, mais il n'allait pas regarder un cheval cadeau dans la bouche comme le dit le proverbe. Il a retourné son attention sur la fauve-fille, en considérant ce que l'Orc avait dit d'elle. Des poisons? C'était bien, il pouvait travailler avec ça. Hallam s'est éloignée du groupe pour s'approcher d'elle. "Kalania? C'est votre nom, oui?" Il était presque sûr que c'est ce que Rogrelg l'avait appelée. "Viens me voir quand tu auras un moment, j'ai quelques tâches pour lesquelles j'aurais besoin de ton aide." En parlant de tâches, Hallam a pensé qu'il ferait mieux de commencer. Il retourna à sa tente, à l'extérieur était une petite table qui avait été récupérée d'une ferme pourrie voisine. Sur la table était une dispersion de flacons vides, potions, herbes, et d'autres outils dont il avait besoin pour son alchimie. Un petit journal en cuir brun relié ouvert sur le côté, à l'intérieur ont été écrits autant de recettes qu'il a pu trouver. Certains travaillaient comme buffs, d'autres comme restaurateurs, et quelques-uns étaient des remèdes. Il ne savait pas comment faire des poisons, mais il était sûr qu'il pouvait chercher quelque chose avec l'aide du Dryad. Ils peuvent ou peuvent ne pas fonctionner bien contre la Scurge, mais contre les membres vivants de la Croisade Scarlet certainement.

1: Name: Hallam Ramsey 2: Age: 24 3: Sex: M 4: Place of Birth: Strahnbrad, Lordaeron 5: Equipment: Dalaran Mage's Staff, Scourge Sacrificial Dagger, Dalaran Mage's Robes, Theramore Marsh Boots 6: History: Hallam was born in Strahnbrad and well on his way to following in his father's footsteps to become a hunter to provide food for his home, but in an act of teenage rebellion he ran away from home to study in Dalaran. He'd long envied his neighbor, Enchanter Millius, and his ability to use magic. He knew his father would never allow him to learn, so he took matters into his own hands. He did not often regret his decision, not until the Scourge marched on Dalaran. He escaped with a handful of other residents, but they fought hard to reach safety. They found it in Tarren Mills for a time, but the influx of refugees to the town made it too good of a target to pass up and the town was destroyed by the Scourge. Hallam spent nearly a year on the run before finally the Scourge-Forsaken conflict allowed him to break through and find Southshore. From there he was evacuated to Kalimdor. Relieved as he was to return to studying magic, Hallam never forgot his experiences in Lordaeron. He eventually left to learn in the world instead of in a library. He tested his talents and skills by helping the Alliance in Dustwallow Marsh and the Barrens, but soon he found himself considering the Argent Dawn. A cause worth his service and coin worth his time; what's not to like? 7: Random Information: (Dunno how much of this last bit is relevant but better have it and not need it than not have it and need it.) Appearance - Specialization - Arcane Primary Professions - Herbalism (Expert), Alchemy (Expert) Secondary Professions - Archeaology (Apprentice), Cooking (Journeyman), First Aid (Journeyman) Family - Allard Ramsey (Father; Deceased), Lorabel Ramsey (Mother; Deceased), Juston Ramsey (Brother; Deceased)

Stratholme était autrefois une ancienne forteresse de l'humanité, mais maintenant c'est un lieu de désespoir et de mort après sa destruction par Arthas dans une campagne contre Mal'Ganis. Les incendies qui ont commencé il y a si longtemps et qui ont été utilisés pour purger tous les morts-vivants et la peste elle-même de la ville ont échoué, laissant une masse brûlante pleine de fléau dans son sillage destructeur, apparemment perdu pour toujours au mal qui a maintenant pris possession de la ville autrefois belle. Parmi les hordes de Scurge qui errent librement, la croisade écarlate a pris l'habitat et nettoyé une zone de la ville, mais en même temps purgant tout ce qu'ils considèrent impur avec le feu et la torture. Deux factions hostiles, maléfiques et corrompues à leur manière règnent sur la ville, d'entrer serait certainement la mort ou quelque chose de bien pire. On peut se demander, après tous ceux qui ont été à l'intérieur de Stratholme, après que tant d'entre eux ont été tués à l'intérieur de cette ville, d'où viennent tous les morts-vivants? La vérité est que quelque part à l'intérieur de la ville pose le portail à Naxxramas, la Citadelle de Dread elle-même. Pour arrêter le flux, il faudrait détruire la connexion entre les deux, et à ce jour personne n'a trouvé cette connexion, le portail qui reste ouvert.

1: Name: Sylvanas Windrunner 2: Age: (Unknown?) 3: Sex: Female 4: Place of Birth: Silvermoon 5: Equipment: Two curved elven short swords, a bow, full thick leather armor, backpack. 6: History: (For a detailed History - End of Warcraft 3 TFT) 7: Random Information: A: Sylvanas has control of not only the darks powers of shadow but also the magic’s that normal everyday hunters use in the field. B: Once an enemy is slain, the Dark Lady can bring them back from the dead to serve her. C: One of her main attacks is a Black Arrow, which explodes on contact, ignites the target in shadowy flame and corrupts. D: Has a dark personality and can sometimes be seen as Chaotic Neutral. E: Does not mess around at all, she is very serious about everything she does. F: Cares for her people, the Horde, and herself. G: Is extremely powerful according to her lore, but will not be doing anything to crazy for the RP.

Bonjour, ravie de vous rencontrer... Elle a commencé à dire avec une voix polie et calme qu'elle s'est rendue compte qu'elle ne pouvait pas se souvenir du nom de l'orc! Elle l'avait entendu quand elle a été informée de venir ici par des gens de l'Aube, mais elle l'a oublié! Comment cela arrive-t-il chaque fois que Dieu damné!?' Elle s'est posée la question et a rapidement commencé à se remémorer. Roleg... Releg... C'est Rogrelg!' Elle a réussi à se souvenir de son nom. »...Rogrelg. » Elle a dit et a donné un léger arc avec sa tête en ce qui concerne. Après tout, il lui a donné la courtoisie de se souvenir de son nom même s'ils ne s'étaient pas rencontrés auparavant, alors elle s'est sentie obligée de répondre au moins de la même façon. Je vois, dans ce cas, je ferai tout ce qui est en mon pouvoir pour aider.Le dryad a dit quand l'orc a déclaré qu'ils avaient besoin de son aide pour cela. Elle se sentait bien d'être utile et la cause était bonne. Elle avait entendu parler de ce lieu d'effroi... et il fallait s'en occuper! Comme un Kalania dryad avait la capacité innée qui enrobait ses armes de poison du fait de sa nature magique. Qui plus est, le poison a fonctionné sur tout ce qui était organique, pas étonnant qu'ils aient besoin de ses compétences dans ce domaine. Kalania a un peu flippé quand elle a entendu qu'ils allaient partir à midi, parce que bien elle passe beaucoup d'heures dans la nuit à se précipiter vers cet endroit. En tant que quelqu'un qui a quitté les terres du kaldorei pour explorer, elle a appris que la plupart des races opèrent pendant la journée, donc elle a dû changer son cycle. Elle dormait pendant la nuit et sortait pendant la journée, mais c'était encore étrange jusqu'à un certain point. C'était encore tôt le matin, alors elle allait avoir assez de temps pour une petite sieste... peut-être? Tout en méditant sur cette question, elle a vu l'étrange apparence que beaucoup des personnes présentes lui donnaient. Surtout les quelques elfes de nuit. Ils étaient tout à fait surpris de voir un sécheur ici, tandis que beaucoup d'autres se demandaient simplement ce qu'elle semblait être. Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?Elle a fait un bruit surpris quand quelqu'un l'a arrachée à ses pensées. C'était le type de mage qui était le second dans le commandement.Ah oui, c'est mon nom.Ah oui, elle a confirmé, en écoutant sa demande pour qu'elle aille le rencontrer plus tard.Ah oui, c'est mon nom. Je vais juste faire un peu d'entretien rapide de mes lances et je viendrai. » Elle a dit comme l'homme est parti et est entré ce qu'elle a présumé être sa tente. Elle regardait autour de lui, les gens faisaient leurs affaires, s'occupaient de leurs affaires, se préparaient à l'opération à venir. En se promenant lentement, elle s'est trouvée un petit endroit vide où elle pouvait se reposer et s'occuper de ses armes. Après avoir rapidement sorti les lances du grand carquois dans lequel elle les gardait, elle a retiré un peu de pierre de son sac à dos. Il n'a pas fallu longtemps pour qu'elle les aiguise tous, alors elle a décidé d'aller voir avec quoi ce Hallam voulait de son aide. Excusez-moi, vous avez dit que vous aviez besoin d'aide pour quelque chose?

1: Name: Kalania 2: Age: 150 3: Sex: Female 4: Place of Birth: Ashenvale, within the forest north west of Astranaar. 5: Equipment: 5 dryad spears, silk shirt, leather armor, backpack. 6: History: Kalania is a young Dryad that was born near the town of Astranaar. Among the other dryads withing their grove, Kalania was quick to learn everything the older dryads taught her. While many of her kind were more predisposed towards the druid arts, Kalania actually turned out to be quite the warrior. Her spear was strong, her attack fast and her throws were incredibly accurate like with all of her kind. Originally she was content with tending to the forest along with the other dryads, but everything changed when the strange invaders appeared from beyond the ocean. Originally she and the rest of her grove were away from the areas where the green skinned invaders were desecrating the ancient forests so she didn't get to fight them, but when their leader and father Cenarius was brought down by the green monsters, it felt like a part of them died in that moment. She felt it with her entire being and for a first time since she was born, she felt anger and hatred. Later when it was all revealed to be a plot of the Legion, she joined the front line fights alongside the night elves. She was at Mount Hyjal when the last battle occurred where they allied with the humans and the Horde. She never really completely overcome her hatred towards Orcs, but learned to stand it and not let it control her actions. Now after the war ended, she just couldn't stay in the forest anymore. She felt the desire to leave and explore the world. In the war she met many people from other races, even the invaders from beyond the ocean. She felt drawn towards the unknown now more than ever. Thus she left her forest just as she did during the war, but this time to explore on her own. It was in her travels that she learned of the Argent Dawn and their struggle against all the forces that try to claim this world. She was a defender of nature, so this cause seemed close enough with her utmost duty. 7: Random Information: -Abilities: Abolish magic(active), Slow poison(passive), Spell immunity(passive)