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Oh non monsieur, je n'ai rencontré votre fille qu'aujourd'hui, a dit Lino, s'est hanté un moment avant de réaliser qu'il plaisantait. Il sourit légèrement, il semblait que quelque chose que son propre père allait taquiner. Il s'est un peu détendu, le père de Celina semblait bien. "Je suis bon avec tout type de travail, donc ce serait bien, a dit Lino, après Dave. Lino a froncé quand Dave a mentionné le numéro. Il n'avait même pas entendu parler de ce système avant. Il pensait encore à quelque chose à dire quand Boice a parlé. Lino lui a donné un regard reconnaissant. "Oui, c'est vrai. Pas de numéro d'assurance sociale en Italie. Mon numéro fiscal devrait fonctionner à la place, n'est-ce pas? » Il a demandé, essayant d'être confiant.

Username: Shadolord | Character Name: Alice Vale | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Female | Character Grade: 8 Appearance: Doesn't wear any hat though does wear a headband that has black cat ears attached. Her green eyes staring out to take in more than most would realize. She was rather small for her age her arms and torso are slender that seemed likely to snap in a strong breeze. She frequently wears black jeans to hide her long legs and protect her alabaster skin from darkening in the sun. Hiding her flat chest inside of a baggy tee-shirt normally of a darker color. Her belt has a tail attached to the back of it. Personality: Alice is a cat at heart. How she speaks and moves show her as a playful predator. She can rub people the wrong way but cares alot about how everyone feels. Anything she does is normally to make others happier. Her personality also can change strangely if you scratch her. She feels incredibly curious about what is going on in the world. Biography: Alice is a boarder student while her parents live in Italy she went to Kadic to receive one of the best educations she could. Her father was very supportive and her mother was against the idea because she was afraid of losing her and it would take hours to get there if she needed them. When she went to school in Florence people found her incredibly odd but when she announced she was leaving someone gave her the cat ears she wears everyday now. Other: Lists shouldn't have multiples of the same number.

Le père de Celina a regardé Dave pendant un moment, puis à Celina. Celina soupirait un peu. "Il n'a pas l'air 18 pour moi Celina..." Dave dit alors. Celina regarde son père pendant qu'il continue à parler. "Mais il regarde ton âge... bien que... Je suppose que c'est parce qu'il a vraiment besoin d'un travail et bien que ce 18 soit nécessaire pour cela... » dit-il. Celina le regarde. "Quel que soit son âge... laisse-le une chance... il n'a nulle part où aller de toute façon." Elle dit alors. Son père continuait à marcher, à réfléchir. "J'ai du travail, mais il s'agit surtout de nettoyer un peu le zoo pendant la journée, et ce serait avec des équipes." Il dit alors. Celina sourit un peu en regardant Lino. "S'il veut ce boulot, c'est... Je manque un peu de personnel... mais j'aurai besoin de quelques informations sur la façon de le payer... si c'est de l'argent ou par compte bancaire... aussi un moyen de le contacter si possible... » dit-il alors. Celina avait alors l'air un peu inquiète. "Je pense qu'il a tout perdu... que pourquoi il était sans argent... et peut-être sans-abri..." Celina dit alors. Son père la regarde et respire profondément. "Je suppose qu'on pourrait lui trouver une chambre quelque part... mais ce serait petit... et ça prendrait un peu de salaire comme frais..." dit-il alors. Celina regarde son père puis à Lino.

Username: Evanist | Character Name: Celina Letendre | Character Age: 14 | Character Gendre: Female | Character Grade: 8th grade Appearance: ((the section I hate doing)) Celina has rather short black hair with brown eyes. She usually wears a dark blue shirt with jeans. She also as a small scar on the right side of her face, but not too big. Personality: Calm, loves animals, but also is kinda of a gamer girl. Will rp the rest out. Biography: Celina didn’t have the easy life when she was young. To start off, her father was rarely home, always working here and there, taking care of the zoo he managed. Her mother would stay at home, taking care of the house and Celina. It would have been alright if Celina didn’t have problems with the girls at school. You see… she didn’t really fit in with them. They were interested in dolls and such, she was interested in video games and a bit of computers. She discovered she was better with talking with the boys of the school then the girls ironically, but this make the girls actually hate her for not being like them. But Celina didn’t take no mind to them and their insults. In her free times, Celina kept visiting her dad’s zoo, actually looking at the animals and sometimes taking care of them. She actually felt really good being this close to animals, especially some domesticated silver foxes that were taken in the zoo after being injured. Although she did like being with the animals, she did have a accident when playing with the foxes, having been scratched right near the face. The injuried healed soon enough, but left a small scar over Celina’s face. Life continued on until that one day the girls at school broke her patience, having done something that would make them regret ever having messed with Celina. That day, the girls wanted to play a prank on her, using glue to go and pour it right at Celina’s hair during break time. They had succeeded on pouring the liquid on her hair, laughing loudly, until the fist went. Celina, mad at the girl, gave a big punch right at the girl’s face, actually knocking her out cold in one his as the others stare and scream, and a adult came and saw what happen, only to see the glue all over Celina’s hair.. Celina didn’t get in trouble for the hit, but because of the glue, she was obliged to cut down her hair. She stayed at home for the whole week after that, saddened. It was one thing she actually cared about, and those girls ruined it. When she got back into class, the girls stood away from her, the girl she hit having a large bandage over the right side of her face where the punch had hit. Life continued on after that until Celina’s parents decided that it would be best to move away now, her dad having been transferred to another zoo near the Kadic school. It took some time for Celina to get use to the new place, prefering to stay at home for a bit, uncomfortable with her new home. It was a bit smaller then their last one, but the money flowed more then before, her dad making more money from the job. At least he could keep the family financially in check… After some time, after getting ready, her mom told her it was time to go to school now and meet new people. Celina was unsure, but decided to go with it. It was going to be her first day at school. This …. Would be interesting. Other: I been doing too much hopscotch and now I am tired.

Lino est passé de pied à pied nerveusement comme Dave l'a pensé à travers tout. Il regarda Celina essayer de convaincre son père. Même si ça n'allait pas, il aurait dû la remercier pour tout ce qu'elle essayait d'aider. Elle le connaissait à peine. Les yeux de Lino se sont élargis quand Dave a dit qu'ils pouvaient trouver un endroit où lui dire pendant qu'il travaillait. "Wow, merci monsieur, ce serait génial! Je serai un travailleur dur, je ne vous laisserai pas tomber », a-t-il dit, souriant. Il ne s'attendait pas à ce que Dave soit si généreux. Peut-être qu'il pourrait enfin commencer une vie pour lui-même, sans crime ni vol.

Username: Shadolord | Character Name: Alice Vale | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Female | Character Grade: 8 Appearance: Doesn't wear any hat though does wear a headband that has black cat ears attached. Her green eyes staring out to take in more than most would realize. She was rather small for her age her arms and torso are slender that seemed likely to snap in a strong breeze. She frequently wears black jeans to hide her long legs and protect her alabaster skin from darkening in the sun. Hiding her flat chest inside of a baggy tee-shirt normally of a darker color. Her belt has a tail attached to the back of it. Personality: Alice is a cat at heart. How she speaks and moves show her as a playful predator. She can rub people the wrong way but cares alot about how everyone feels. Anything she does is normally to make others happier. Her personality also can change strangely if you scratch her. She feels incredibly curious about what is going on in the world. Biography: Alice is a boarder student while her parents live in Italy she went to Kadic to receive one of the best educations she could. Her father was very supportive and her mother was against the idea because she was afraid of losing her and it would take hours to get there if she needed them. When she went to school in Florence people found her incredibly odd but when she announced she was leaving someone gave her the cat ears she wears everyday now. Other: Lists shouldn't have multiples of the same number.

{\pos(192,220)}C'est pas vrai. {\pos(192,220)} <Lino/Celina/Dave>: -- Eh bien, je suppose que c'est tout. Boice a dit, applaudissant ses mains ensemble et les frottant lentement après la petite conversation a eu lieu. Dave était évidemment un peu suspect, mais il a été assez dupé pour laisser Lino avoir le travail de toute façon. Il ne nous reste plus qu'à nous souvenir de l'histoire. Lino est d'Italie, a tout perdu, sans abri et sans argent. Elle a pensé à elle-même, en écrivant des notes mentales pour garder une trace. "Alors, c'est tout? C'est fini?" Boice a demandé. {Maya} <Bella/Flippy>: -- D'accord, ça sonne comme un plan! Aeilta a dit, regardant les monstres une dernière fois avant de se tourner vers la tour et de faire un sprint pour elle. "C'est bon! Les monstres viennent à la vie maintenant." Josive a annoncé. Les deux Big Cube-Things ont tous les deux tourné vers Aelita, et a commencé un barrage de lasers à elle, apparemment plus rapide que la normale. Les lasers étaient beaucoup plus précis aussi, tous atterrissant à quelques centaines de pieds, et se dirigeant lentement vers Aeilta à un rythme régulier. Une fois qu'ils l'ont atteinte, deux l'ont frappée, l'un dans le bras, et l'autre dans la jambe, l'envoyant rapidement vers l'arrière. Heureusement, elle était juste près de la tour. Après les prises de vue, l'un des Big Cube-Things a commencé à marcher vers Aelita, mais a tourné la tête vers Bella et Flippy, lançant un autre barrage de lasers, réunis avec les lasers de l'autre Cube. La grande Sphere-Thing géant s'ouvrit une seconde, révélant qu'elle était un monstre, avant de se refermer et de rouler rapidement vers Aeilita. Tant qu'il est resté fermé, il n'y a pas eu d'endommagement, donc les héros devraient attendre une ouverture. C'est quoi, ça? <Sam/Garsin>: La chanson de Garsin semblait bien fonctionner sur William et Sam, tout comme ils s'étaient aidés. Ils se sentaient tous les deux plus légers et plus rapides. "Bien pensé Garsin, tu es un naturel." William a dit, lui donnant un clin d'œil rapide avant de continuer vers l'endroit où il a senti les pulsations. Quelques minutes plus tard, le trio a atteint un point où ils pouvaient voir la tour au loin. Non seulement ça, mais il y avait des monstres qui attaquaient des gens d'apparence humaine. "Ce sont les gens que j'ai vus avant. Ils vont nous arrêter, ils ne verront pas ce qu'on fait à moins de leur montrer les tours. Mais pour l'instant, XANA est notre ennemi commun, et nous devons travailler ensemble pour le vaincre. J'ai déjà fait tout ce que j'ai pu pour aujourd'hui, donc je ne peux pas activer une autre tour avant demain, donc nous pourrions aussi bien aider à vaincre XANA." William a dit qu'il continuait de diriger la voie. "Montrons-leur comment c'est fait!" Il a crié, tirant son arme derrière lui. {Maya/William} Aeilta essaya de nouveau la tour, se levant rapidement et sprintant pour elle. Hélas, la Sphère géante est apparue devant elle et la tour, bloquant son chemin. Il s'est ouvert et s'est mis à crier alors qu'il accusait une attaque. Juste avant qu'elle ne déchaîne, William est entré dans le camp d'Aeilta, l'envoyant hors de son chemin. Alors que l'explosion venait pour William, il tenait rapidement son épée devant lui, se transformant en fumée et s'enfuyant sur le côté, se dirigeant jusqu'au sommet du monstre tout comme il a fini de le tirer, c'est l'attaque. Il a poignardé son épée dans le monstre, visant l'œil, mais il s'est refermé juste avant qu'il puisse atteindre. William a essayé de pousser, mais un laser de l'un des Little-Mini-Crabs a frappé William du monstre. Après l'attaque aléatoire du monstre, le seul Géant Cube-Thing s'est tourné vers lui et a tiré un laser à ses pieds, le faisant sauter à l'envers et ensuite continuer à danser autour du pilier. Le pilier avait commencé à clignoter plus rapidement après que le monstre s'est arrêté il est encerclé, mais il est revenu à son modèle habituel une fois qu'il a rejoint ses amis une fois de plus. Aelita a été stupéfaite par l'apparition soudaine de William, s'arrêtant pour le regarder. "Qui-" elle a commencé à demander, mais il a pointé vers la tour alors qu'il a repris sa position. "Allez, tout de suite!" Il a crié. Le Géant Sphere-Thing roulait vers l'avant, de sorte que l'arrière de l'arme de William touchait le sol, s'ouvrait et l'arme laissait tomber, puis se refermait et roulait pour écraser William où il se tenait. Aeilta boulonnait pour la tour, mais alors qu'elle le touchait presque, une lumière rouge éclatait et rebondissait sur son dos, la lumière se dirigeant vers le haut en forme ovale autour de la tour, révélant qu'il y avait un champ de force d'une sorte. "Aelita, fais gaffe! Vos points de vie sont déjà jusqu'à quarante! Si vous en prenez beaucoup plus, qui sait ce qui pourrait arriver! » Josive a crié, craignant qu'elle ne soit pas assez prudente.

NPC's List For a complete list of official characters, follow this link. Missing Lyoko Warriors: Jeremie Belpois Aelita Schaeffer Aelita Schaeffer is one of the missing Lyoko Warriors. She has been discovered on Lyoko, in the Forest Sector. She has no memory of how she got there, or of Lyoko, other than the symbol commonly seen throughout Lyoko. She does remember Kadic. Odd Della Robbia Ulrich Stern Yumi Ishiyama William Dunbar Teachers and Staff of Kadic Gilles Fumet - Social Studies Teacher Gustave Chardin - Art Teacher Hans Klotz - School Psychologist Jean Pierre Delmas - Principal Jean-Pierre Delmas, known by the students at Kadic as Mr. Delmas, to Sissi as Daddy or Dad, and is the headmaster/principal of Kadic. He is very straightforward and weak-minded, as his daughter Sissi can often boss him around, sometimes to the advantage or disadvantage of Team Lyoko. He is very ignorant and gullible as seen in his dealings with his daughter and members of Team Lyoko. She has convinced him many times to organize school dances and other activities for her (or rather, has _demanded_ for him to do so). Jim Morales - Physical Education Teacher/Dorm Manager Jim Morales, also known as Jimbo, is the Physical Education teacher at Kadic, and the campus supervisor and the health teacher. He has a love handle on his stomach and is shown to eat fairly unhealthy, but while he is overweight he is shown to be very strong in many episodes. He always has a bandage on his left cheek and tucks his trousers into his socks and wears a headband. He always wears a white t-shirt and red sweatpants and a red sweatshirt. Mrs. Meyer - Math Teacher Mrs. Meyer is the math teacher at Kadic. Nicole Weber - Office Secretary Nicoletta "Nicole" Weber is the office secretary in Kadic Academy. Her room is beside the Principal Delmas' room. Rosa Petitjean - Lunch Lady Suzanne Hertz - Science Teacher Suzanne Hertz, known by the students as Mrs. Hertz or Ms. Hertz and by Jim as Suzanne, is the science and a homeroom teacher at Kadic. She replaced Franz Hopper as a science teacher. She usually does a lot of experiments with her students, some of which help them against X.A.N.A.'s attack. She is shown to have a sense of humor. Jim Morales, the PE teacher and campus supervisor, is shown to have a crush on her in the second season. She deeply loves nature. Yolande Perraudin - School Nurse Students of Kadic Elisabeth "Sissi" Delmas - Popular and punkish 8th Grader Elisabeth "Sissi" Delmas is an often mean, spoiled and popular student at Kadic. She often pesters Team Lyoko, most of the time to win Ulrich's affections. However, she admits in Holiday in the Fog that she is gaining their attention through her mean actions towards them. By so doing she is almost making enemies out of her would-be friends, instead of gaining any of their respect, much to her chagrin. At the end of the series, in Echoes, she achieves this at last and becomes an official friend of the group. She is also the daughter of Mr. Delmas, the principal of Kadic, the boarding school she attends and lives in. She is a major recurring character. Herb Pichon - Friend of Sissi, 8th Grader Herb Pichon (also spelled Hervé Pichon) is a ninth grader at Kadic and a classmate to the Lyoko Warriors. He is the second-in-command of Sissi's Gang, and sometimes even the boss in times of emergency when Sissi proves to be incompetent, as he is obviously the most intelligent in their group. Herb is also in love with Sissi, although he can't tell her because she has crushes on various people including Ulrich and Theo Gauthier. Nicholas Poliakoff - Friend of Sissi, 8th Grader Nicolas Poliakoff is a ninth grader at Kadic. He is a member of Sissi's gang, and mostly just stands there staring into space unless Sissi orders him to follow her. He is the stereotypical dumb, muscle kind of bully. It is still unknown why exactly Nicholas joined Sissi's "gang", but it is probably due to the fact Herb did. Nicholas also has a crush on Aelita, but has never acted on it. He can play the drums, and is in the Pop Rock Progressives, a band started by Odd. As a result, he is certainly more tolerant of and kinder toward Team Lyoko than Herb and Sissi are. In some episodes, it is shown he has at least some degree of intelligence, as he wrote the play in Laughing Fit. Nicholas is also easy to scare, as is Herb. Emmanuel "Mike" Maillard - Average 8th Grader, drummer Mike isn't a very popular kid. Nor is he unknown either. He's pretty generic in a lot of ways, though he is pretty friendly and is willing to help others in need. Though, a XANA attack would surely scare him into submission. He wears a long-sleeve red shirt, with a black t-shirt over top, and usually shorts. He wears a necklace around his neck. He has long black hair, kept some in a ponytail. Active Roleplayer Applications Josive Ferrara Username: Teknonick | Character Name: Josive Ferrara | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 8th Appearance: Josive's hair color is a jet black, and kept at average length. He wears a long-sleeve blue shirt, and simple jeans. His shoes are good for running in, but not any big-name brands. He weighs about a hundred pounds, and stands four feet and eleven inches tall. Personality: Josive's personality is usually shy to those he doesn't know, but completely open to anyone he has met before, even for a few seconds. Josive tends to be very serious at times, and tries to think things logically before acting. Biography: Josive Ferrana was a very smart baby, no, a genius. Within his first months he learned to walk and talk, and soon after learned to solve puzzles. As he grew older, so did his intelligence. He learned coding and robotics, always spending his money on more parts rather than magazines or games. Josive's parent's relationship was always debatable, which pushed him even farther away from them, and henceforth pushing his parents away more. Josive preferred being alone, which also lead to his curious behavior. Josive was the kid that would enter an abandoned house, just to see what was inside, or climb up a tree to see a little farther. As he grew older, his parents got farther and farther away, almost to the point of divorce. Often, he would be sent away to his grandfather's house, and play with him, or learn more about programming. His grandfather was very into computers and hunting (A strange mix) which led to Josive learning to hunt. Though, Josive barely retains any knowledge of the skill of hunting, he still thinks back to the days with his grandparent. On Josive's twelfth birthday, he got the worst gift a child could get. His parents were almost at the point of violence, but they wanted better for their child. They decided to send him off to a school where he could be by himself, and not see them fight. He was sent to Kadic junior high school, about a whole state away, so he got a room inside the junior high school. As a gift, his grandfather gave Josive a locket of himself, so he could remember him. The better gift he liked. Exactly a month ago is when Jeremy and his friends had gone missing, and there was absolutely no sign of them coming back. Josive is about to be assigned Jeremie's room. Little does he know he will be taking on a bigger challenge than junior high school. Other: I think I should take a look at the rules again. Especially rule 9. That one's my favorite.Bella Username: Gambit | Character Name: Bella | Character Age: 14 | Character Gender: Female | Character Grade: 8th Appearance: Blueish-black shoulder length hair with long bangs, bright blue eyes, and freckles across her nose. Bella is of average height and weight. She wears a tan colored crochet beret, a button down shirt, jeans, and sneakers. She always wears a silver dragon necklace, and is also fond of scarves. Personality: Bella is very outgoing and enjoys being around her friends. She is an artist and writer, so she is very creative, but she thinks very logically. She does not like talking about anything personal unless with someone very close. When she is stressed or upset she comes across as angry instead. When she is actually angry she gets very cold and quiet. Biography: Bella lived in New Hampshire with her parents and older brother. She attended a private school there and studied art whenever possible, and had a lot of friends. She was very close to her older brother. Whenever she was having trouble Bella would go to him for advise. Everything seemed to be going well until her brother vanished in the middle of the night. The police said that he had likely run away from home. Bella was heartbroken when her brother didn't come home. She started having trouble in school and lashed out at anyone who tried to help her. Bella's parents eventually decided to send her to Kadic Junior High school in hopes that Bella could have a new start.Flippy Takeshi Username: gamer5910 | Character Name: Flippy Takeshi | Character Age: 14 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 8th Appearance: Flippy is 5'3" with blue hair and blue eyes he is skinny-ish but can fight well and can run really well. He wears a light black hoodie with cat ears on it, a light blue shirt beneath, black sweat pants with white shoes with black laces, and also can't forget about his headphones they are a darker blue than his hair with a magenta color for the cord. Personality: Flippy isn't that social but when he is he comes off really friendly, but to get him to be social is like to see a double rainbow during a lunar eclipse. Due to his past he doesn't like being asked about his mother or father but he does answer about how many grandparents, siblings, or cousins, he has which most people tend to ask him. He is also known to be very Popular which in that case it is prouder to be picked on for that reason, but he just puts on his headphones and ignores the people picking on him. Bio: When Flippy was born in Japan he had no brother or sister, and his father worked for the army so he didn't get to see him often. His mom on the other hand he saw every day with a smile. Ever since Flippy was five two things happened to him that he will never for get one was his spent the one day a year he could coming to his sons birthday, and his gift to Flippy was wooden katana hand carved by his own father. He also found out he loved two things drawing and computers. Since he loved those two things he wanted to find a carrier that could involve one or the other which meant he didn't have much time for social time he spent his time up to the age of 12 drawing learning about computers. His mother told him they had to move but since Flippy had no friends he didn't really care. So for the next two years Flippy was getting better and better at his hobbies, but one day his school burnt down and he had to switch to Kacid Academy which made him have to leave his mom and live in one of the rooms at the school. The day before Flippy left his mother gave him a necklace which had a yin-yang symbol on it his mother told him it has been past down from her mothers mother to him, so he treasured it just like his wooden katana from his dad. It took him a month to get packed and ready to move into the school it was a easy transaction, but when he arrived he heard that a group of students went missing. He was curios at first but just kept to his work and didn't care after a while, so from then on out its been a normal life to him, or so it seems. Other: I can't think of anything good to say about rule 9, but it is a good rule to follow.Garsin Folkvar Username: Jollan | Character Name: Garsin Folkvar | Character Age: 16 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 9th Appearance: Garsin has a large, strong, stocky build and stands at about 5'8". He has tanned skin and short, sandy hair cut high and tight. He has a masculine face with a strong square jaw and a set brow. His eyes are hazel with green in the center that fades to brown on the edge or the iris. He wears button up shirts with the top four buttons undone, the sleeves rolled to just below his elbow, and a white tank top underneath. He normally wears cargo khaki pants with a wallet chain and dark brown work boots. On his right wrist he has a stainless steel bracelet that matches the one around his neck, and a ring on his right ring finger and thumb. As for his left arm he wears a black durable watch that can tell him the time through beeps when he presses a button on it. He normally walks with a foldable cane with yellow and red tape around it so that people can see it as he walks around. There is a pouch on his belt to put the cane while he isn't using it. Personality: Though he can look intimidating, he normally keeps to himself. He is somewhat shy but polite, though he is very self conscious about his cane accidentally hitting or tripping people to the point where he tries to walk without using it so much,... and then running into people. His large size and stature don't really do much to help him either, but that is halfway his own fault for working out so much. He has a silent anger that will build and flare up on occasion, but has the maturity not to act recklessly most of the time. Biography: Garsin was born blind which made it difficult for him in school. when he was little, he was even held back from starting kindergarten because his parents were unsure if he was ready. After a while he was able to read braille, and with the help of tutors, get through his first couple of years at school. The jewelry he wears are hand-me-downs from his grandfather before he passed away. His family never had a lot of money to send Garsin to a private school or to pay tutors at later grades as he grew up. Though when Garsin had started getting into fights at school from people picking at his condition and poverty, his parents decided to home-school him. After a while, and due to a greater amount of focus outside of the public schools, Garsin was doing well in his studies. A friend of the family suggested Kadic Junior High to them and while the parents were unsure due to costs, Garsin was able to get in due to his grades and passing a test to see if he qualified outside of home-schooling. He was able to get a hold of some nice looking clothes at a thrift store so that he could at least look like he didn't come from a lower income household. However, old wounds didn't seem to heal to well, and he mostly tries to stay out of people's way. Other: Garsin usually likes to spend his time in the gym, doing weight training and excising. His most prize possession is a cello which he likes to play and he keeps it in his dorm room. This "number 9" foul up everyone is talking about.... I feel it is a malicious attack on the well being of my character's life and I shall deal with it accordingly.Jared Chang Username: Alternax | Character Name: Jared Chang | Character Age: 12 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 7th Appearance: Jared has a lightly tanned skin, though most people notice his eyes slight slant, and higher cheekbones. He has short black hair brushed to his left side. He has a moderate build showing that he is stronger than he looks, standing at an 5'2. He usually wears t-shirts of various designs, but he is partial to a dark green shirt with a traditional chinese dragon coiled up in the center blowing fire, and blue jeans.He often wears a jansport backpack to school, along with a barely noticeable jade ring attached to a necklace around his neck. Personality: Joyful, generally happy, growing up in outside Asia with foreign parents wasn't easy but he's managed to keep a good attitude about it. Although he is generally happy he is slow to warm up to strangers, due to most people teasing him or pushing his patience repetitively. When he does warm up to someone it's as if he becomes someone completely different, always cracking jokes, and even using sarcasm. Biography: Growing up in china Jared's parents sought a better life for their family. Finding the perfect job in France, and after discussing this with American tourists Jared's father jumped into this chance and planned their trip. After a few weeks of settling in and deciding on a house Jared's family set down, wasting no time in planning Jared's education they found that he was to take intense language classes at Kadic Junior High. Spending the his first year trying to master the local language he managed to learn a good understanding, though his accent still shows up in most sentences. Now in his 7th grade year Jared finds himself pressured even harder by his parents, no longer able to hide under the excuse of a language barrier Jared spends alot of his time reading or studying for his own amusement or his classes. Other: I don't understand how that two 9 thing works but i'll take your word for it.Sam Spark Username: NightmareInd | Character Name: Sam Spark | Character Age: 15 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 9th Appearance: Dark blond hair, green eyes. He has average weight and height. He wears a white hoodie and grey jeans. He also has a bracelet with the logo from his favourite video game. Biography: He was an orphan, and got bullied a lot. He turned to gaming as it was his way to take out his frustration. He recently moved to another orphanage, which made him come to the new school. He now wants to finally get some friends. (Sorry it is so short, I don't got much inspiration right now) Other: I'm confused, there two nines but there aren't? Inactive Roleplayer Applications Arndt Schulz Account Name: RawrgnatheBloodfridge | Character Name: Arndt Schulz | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 8th Appearance: Arndt constantly sports some sort of Beanie on top of his head, even holding a prized collection of them. His hair is long enough to be seen poking out the back and front of his beanie and has a distinctly coffee brown look to it. His eyes are an emerald shade of green, and his eyebrows fairly thin. He normally wears some sort of T-shirt with an un-done button-up shirt over it. Generally preferring jeans, though he'll wear shorts whenever it gets hot and runs on Adidas shoes. He stands at 5'2", weighing in at 124 pounds. Personality: Arndt has a hard-working attitude, with a dry sense of humor. Though he does act stubborn and hard-headed initially, he warms up to others very quickly, becoming very loyal and even protective to an extent. Arndt is normally a rational thinker, never really going outside of the box or thinking abstractly, but just trying to get through life with the rules he's given. Biography: Arndt grew up in Western Germany living in the city of Bielefeld. His parents were strict, always pushing the virtue of hard-work onto his shoulders. As Arndt grew up, he was constantly worked to the bone, hardly allowed time for anything but helping his father with carpentry and schoolwork. When Arndt turned ten years old, he was enrolled into a private school where he was taught the importance of History and Science, despite being told earlier in his life that he only needed hard work and persistence. The only thing that gave him much enjoyment was collecting beanies he would buy whenever his family went on trips. At the age of twelve his family received a letter asking him to come to a school in France called Kadic. His parents at first were reluctant, but at being told he would move in, they immediately agreed. Now being forced to adjust to French society, Arndt enters Kadic Junior-high as an 8th grader. Other: Even though the number 9 wasn't on there twice, I guess I'll make a comment about it.Sezaru Kumoi Username: AncientHalo | Character Name: Sezaru Kumoi | Character Age: 14 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: Freshman Year (9th) Appearance: Almost abnormally tall for his age, Sezaru stands at about five feet and six inches tall. He does not wear a hat at all, his hair is strangely a sleek silver with traces of black highlights which normally would give an ominous appearance. The skin complexion is fairly white yet almost seemingly pale when outside in the sun, though he does not care to eventually get slightly tanned during the day. Athletically built, having played tennis since the age of four, Sezaru naturally has a muscle-toned body from his years playing tennis with equally broad arms due to being ambidextrous. His normal everyday clothing consists that of a white-collared button down shirt with a black light jacket on top despite any weather condition along with some jeans for the most part. Sometimes he will wear regular semi-loose jeans and other times he will wear ripped jeans. His legs are slightly broad as well due to having to condition his body daily in order to keep his athleticism at its peak. Personality: While projecting an ominous air around himself that screams "Come and Make Fun of Me!", Sezaru is actually a person who takes things seriously and will not hesitate to put people in their place with strong and potentially hurtful words. Sezaru is also almost never is one to enjoy humor. Yes, Sezaru will smile to show that the current conversation or joke is fine with him but rarely ever he will laugh as the most you will hear from him is a chuckle in the background. Despite being athletic and on the Tennis Team in Kadic Academy, Sezaru rarely ever likes to make friends and thus usually his only friends consist of those who actually take the time to understand him and those who are the Tennis Team as well. However, despite rarely wanting to make friends Sezaru is a kind and friendly person who is willing to help out with anything he is capable of. Biography: Albeit being a gifted child since the age of four in the sport of Tennis, he doesn't care much for his background. Just that Sezaru loved to play Tennis day in and day out, his passion and his life. The childhood life of Sezaru somehow felt somewhat empty because despite having a talent for Tennis, he missed a lot of quality time with his parents and thus missed out on a lot of love and care. Born in Spain where Tennis was potentially and arguably the second most loved sport in the country, Sezaru's first language was obviously Spanish and learned other languages due to the revenue he was making by winning local and sectional tournaments. Sadly during the year he had turned 13 and was turning 14, his parents got into an argument which resulted in separation and sending Sezaru to French Boarding School known as Kadic Academy. During his time in the eighth grade at Kadic Academy, Sezaru began to drift away from people and change his appearance to a new style which somehow begat an ominous around his persona and for the most part avoided him. The only things Sezaru brought with him were photos of his family, Tennis gear/clothing, regular clothing and some snacks he brought over from Spain. So, being gifted in school and scoring constant credit rolls and learning of the Tennis Team... Sezaru decided to join the team in order to ease his tensions from everyday life back at home. Of course, that was only an excuse to make himself known in France for Tennis just as he was known back in Spain. Other: Original Theme Song: Be Somebody - Thousand Foot Krutch Hopscotch Battle Theme Song: Take it out on Me - Thousand Foot Krutch

Celina sourit avant que Dave respire profondément et fasse sortir des papiers. "Je vais encore avoir besoin d'une signature. Un contrat que nous pourrions dire pour le temps partiel et ne pas divulguer des informations que vous apprendriez ici." Il dit alors. Celina s'est ensuite levée. "Papa, va t'occuper des renards pendant que tu t'occupes du papier." Elle dit alors que Dave hoche la tête alors que Celina quitte la pièce. Dave sourit un peu. "Une telle fille douée... Je ne sais pas comment elle fait, mais il semblait que tous les animaux qu'elle rencontre semblent l'aimer... » dit-il en rigolant un peu avant de répandre un peu les papiers, demandant quelques signatures. Un pour aucune divulgation de l'information ici, un pour la durée du travail, et d'autres documents qui étaient plus de l'information que les contrats.

Username: Evanist | Character Name: Celina Letendre | Character Age: 14 | Character Gendre: Female | Character Grade: 8th grade Appearance: ((the section I hate doing)) Celina has rather short black hair with brown eyes. She usually wears a dark blue shirt with jeans. She also as a small scar on the right side of her face, but not too big. Personality: Calm, loves animals, but also is kinda of a gamer girl. Will rp the rest out. Biography: Celina didn’t have the easy life when she was young. To start off, her father was rarely home, always working here and there, taking care of the zoo he managed. Her mother would stay at home, taking care of the house and Celina. It would have been alright if Celina didn’t have problems with the girls at school. You see… she didn’t really fit in with them. They were interested in dolls and such, she was interested in video games and a bit of computers. She discovered she was better with talking with the boys of the school then the girls ironically, but this make the girls actually hate her for not being like them. But Celina didn’t take no mind to them and their insults. In her free times, Celina kept visiting her dad’s zoo, actually looking at the animals and sometimes taking care of them. She actually felt really good being this close to animals, especially some domesticated silver foxes that were taken in the zoo after being injured. Although she did like being with the animals, she did have a accident when playing with the foxes, having been scratched right near the face. The injuried healed soon enough, but left a small scar over Celina’s face. Life continued on until that one day the girls at school broke her patience, having done something that would make them regret ever having messed with Celina. That day, the girls wanted to play a prank on her, using glue to go and pour it right at Celina’s hair during break time. They had succeeded on pouring the liquid on her hair, laughing loudly, until the fist went. Celina, mad at the girl, gave a big punch right at the girl’s face, actually knocking her out cold in one his as the others stare and scream, and a adult came and saw what happen, only to see the glue all over Celina’s hair.. Celina didn’t get in trouble for the hit, but because of the glue, she was obliged to cut down her hair. She stayed at home for the whole week after that, saddened. It was one thing she actually cared about, and those girls ruined it. When she got back into class, the girls stood away from her, the girl she hit having a large bandage over the right side of her face where the punch had hit. Life continued on after that until Celina’s parents decided that it would be best to move away now, her dad having been transferred to another zoo near the Kadic school. It took some time for Celina to get use to the new place, prefering to stay at home for a bit, uncomfortable with her new home. It was a bit smaller then their last one, but the money flowed more then before, her dad making more money from the job. At least he could keep the family financially in check… After some time, after getting ready, her mom told her it was time to go to school now and meet new people. Celina was unsure, but decided to go with it. It was going to be her first day at school. This …. Would be interesting. Other: I been doing too much hopscotch and now I am tired.

Juste avant que la grande sphère ne s'approche de William, Garsin se range avec la sphère géante et s'y accrochait, en arrêtant sa progression. Grouillez-vous, bougez-vous! Il grogne sous la force du monstre. Les veines de ses muscles ont commencé à apparaître alors qu'il a mis plus de force à changer la direction du monstre loin des autres, il a ensuite poussé hors de lui et roulé sur le côté, espérant que le manque soudain de force adverse enverrait la monstruosité roulante renaissant des voies du groupe. « Tout va bien », a-t-il dit tout en regagnant son souffle. Le violoncelle de l'autre monde flottait de son dos et il brandissait une corde qui appelait l'arc. Au lieu de le jouer lui-même, il flottait dans l'air à côté de lui alors qu'il prenait une position de combat, attendant de réagir aux monstres avant lui.

Username: Jollan | Character Name: Garsin Folkvar | Character Age: 16 | Character Gender: male | Character Grade: 9 (started school late) Appearance: Garsin has a large, strong, stocky build and stands at about 5'8". He has tanned skin and short, sandy hair cut high and tight. He has a masculine face with a strong square jaw and a set brow. His eyes are hazel with green in the center that fades to brown on the edge or the iris. He wears button up shirts with the top four buttons undone, the sleeves rolled to just below his elbow, and a white tank top underneath. He normally wears cargo khaki pants with a wallet chain and dark brown work boots. On his right wrist he has a stainless steel bracelet that matches the one around his neck, and a ring on his right ring finger and thumb. As for his left arm he wears a black durable watch that can tell him the time through beeps when he presses a button on it. He normally walks with a foldable cane with yellow and red tape around it so that people can see it as he walks around. There is a pouch on his belt to put the cane while he isn't using it. Personality: Though he can look intimidating, he normally keeps to himself. He is somewhat shy but polite, though he is very self conscious about his cane accidentally hitting or tripping people to the point where he tries to walk without using it so much,... and then running into people. His large size and stature don't really do much to help him either, but that is halfway his own fault for working out so much. He has a silent anger that will build and flare up on occasion, but has the maturity not to act recklessly most of the time. Biography: Garsin was born blind which made it difficult for him in school. when he was little, he was even held back from starting kindergarten because his parents were unsure if he was ready. After a while he was able to read braille, and with the help of tutors, get through his first couple of years at school. The jewelry he wears are hand-me-downs from his grandfather before he passed away. His family never had a lot of money to send Garsin to a private school or to pay tutors at later grades as he grew up. Though when Garsin had started getting into fights at school from people picking at his condition and poverty, his parents decided to home-school him. After a while, and due to a greater amount of focus outside of the public schools, Garsin was doing well in his studies. A friend of the family suggested Kadic Junior High to them and while the parents were unsure due to costs, Garsin was able to get in due to his grades and passing a test to see if he qualified outside of home-schooling. He was able to get a hold of some nice looking clothes at a thrift store so that he could at least look like he didn't come from a lower income household. However, old wounds didn't seem to heal to well, and he mostly tries to stay out of people's way. Other: Garsin usually likes to spend his time in the gym, doing weight training and excising. His most prize possession is a cello which he likes to play and he keeps it in his dorm room. This "number 9" foul up everyone is talking about.... I feel it is a malicious attack on the well being of my character's life and I shall deal with it accordingly.

<Lino> -- Très bien, ça a l'air bien! Lino a répondu en réponse à la demande de signature de Dave. Il a attendu que Celina parte pour s'occuper des renards. -- Huh, c'est plutôt soigné, répondit Lino, en regardant tous les journaux. Il ne savait pas exactement ce que tout signifiait en eux, mais pensait qu'il avait l'essentiel. Il a rapidement signé les pages que Dave a soulignées. <Bella> Bella a couru après Aelita. J'espère qu'on pourra y arriver, pensait-elle, le cœur courrant alors que les monstres se réveillaient et se tournaient vers eux. "Aelita!" Bella a crié quand les lasers l'ont frappée. "Ça va?" Bella s'est figée dans ses traces quand le cube s'est tourné vers elle. Elle s'élance sur le côté pendant que le barrage laser s'envole. Bella a saisi son pinceau et sa palette et a agité le pinceau dans la peinture, faisant le symbole du feu dans l'air. Le mur de tir a lancé sur le monstre. Dans le coin de l'œil Bella a vu le monstre de la sphère se diriger droit vers Aelita. Il a chargé pour une attaque, quelque chose de grand. Il n'y avait aucun moyen pour Bella d'atteindre la fille à temps. Mais tout comme il était sur le point de tirer un personnage est venu courir à Aelita, la frapper au sol hors du chemin de l'attaque. Qui est-ce? Mais le gros cube tirait encore des lasers. Elle a coupé son pinceau dans une ligne verticale avec de la peinture jaune, sans aucune idée de ce qui se passerait. "Flippy me couvre," dit-elle, en jetant un autre mur de feu dessus avant d'éviter les lasers et de courir vers la tour et les autres. Si elle pouvait s'approcher assez près, elle pourrait aider à repousser les monstres assez longtemps pour qu'Aelita arrive à la tour.

Username: Shadolord | Character Name: Alice Vale | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Female | Character Grade: 8 Appearance: Doesn't wear any hat though does wear a headband that has black cat ears attached. Her green eyes staring out to take in more than most would realize. She was rather small for her age her arms and torso are slender that seemed likely to snap in a strong breeze. She frequently wears black jeans to hide her long legs and protect her alabaster skin from darkening in the sun. Hiding her flat chest inside of a baggy tee-shirt normally of a darker color. Her belt has a tail attached to the back of it. Personality: Alice is a cat at heart. How she speaks and moves show her as a playful predator. She can rub people the wrong way but cares alot about how everyone feels. Anything she does is normally to make others happier. Her personality also can change strangely if you scratch her. She feels incredibly curious about what is going on in the world. Biography: Alice is a boarder student while her parents live in Italy she went to Kadic to receive one of the best educations she could. Her father was very supportive and her mother was against the idea because she was afraid of losing her and it would take hours to get there if she needed them. When she went to school in Florence people found her incredibly odd but when she announced she was leaving someone gave her the cat ears she wears everyday now. Other: Lists shouldn't have multiples of the same number.

Flippy a suivi les autres jusqu'à ce qu'ils montent sur les monstres qui ont commencé à tirer sur eux immédiatement. Il a vu des lasers aller partout, donc il a tiré son épée et a pris une position défensive. Bloquer les lasers n'était pas facile, mais ce n'était pas difficile, c'était juste qu'il y avait beaucoup d'ennemis tirant à la fois, et il y a un nouvel ennemi qui semblait d'abord rien, mais une fois qu'il a tiré Flippy savait que cela ne pouvait pas être bon. Une fois que Bella a demandé son aide, Flippy s'est vite enfui, et a eu un peu de feu de Bella sur son épée. "Maintenant, il est temps d'avoir une défense offensive." Flippy a dit qu'il avait bloqué quelques lasers avant d'aller en mode attaque. Son plan était d'essayer de couvrir Bella en distrayant la plupart des monstres qui la visaient. "Allez, frappez déjà!" Flippy a crié quand il est monté sur un cube, et a essayé de le poignarder dans le symbole.

**Flippy Takeshi:** Username: gamer5910 |Character Name: Flippy Takeshi |Character Age 14 |Character Gender: Male | Character Grade:8th Appearance: Flippy is 5'3" with blue hair and blue eyes he is skinny-ish but can fight well and can run really well. He wears a light black hoodie with cat ears on it, a light blue shirt beneath, black sweat pants with white shoes with black laces, and also can't forget about his headphones they are a darker blue than his hair with a magenta color for the cord. Personality: Flippy isn't that social but when he is he comes off really friendly, but to get him to be social is like to see a double rainbow during a lunar eclipse. Due to his past he doesn't like being asked about his mother or father but he does answer about how many grandparents, siblings, or cousins, he has which most people tend to ask him. He is also known to be very Popular which in that case it is prouder to be picked on for that reason, but he just puts on his headphones and ignores the people picking on him. Bio: When Flippy was born in Japan he had no brother or sister, and his father worked for the army so he didn't get to see him often. His mom on the other hand he saw every day with a smile. Ever since Flippy was five two things happened to him that he will never for get one was his spent the one day a year he could coming to his sons birthday, and his gift to Flippy was wooden katana hand carved by his own father. He also found out he loved two things drawing and computers. Since he loved those two things he wanted to find a carrier that could involve one or the other which meant he didn't have much time for social time he spent his time up to the age of 12 drawing learning about computers. His mother told him they had to move but since Flippy had no friends he didn't really care. So for the next two years Flippy was getting better and better at his hobbies, but one day his school burnt down and he had to switch to Kacid Academy which made him have to leave his mom and live in one of the rooms at the school. The day before Flippy left his mother gave him a necklace which had a yin-yang symbol on it his mother told him it has been past down from her mothers mother to him, so he treasured it just like his wooden katana from his dad. It took him a month to get packed and ready to move into the school it was a easy transaction, but when he arrived he heard that a group of students went missing. He was curios at first but just kept to his work and didn't care after a while, so from then on out its been a normal life to him, or so it seems. Other: I can't think of anything good to say about rule 9, but it is a good rule to follow.

Dave a attendu un peu que les papiers soient signés avant de sourire. Il s'est ensuite rendu dans un placard et a sorti un uniforme. "Ce sera pour que les gens du zoo sachent que vous travaillez ici. Un uniforme standard." C'est ce qu'il dit. Il respire ensuite profondément et obtient ensuite une carte de son bureau, montrant toutes les cages du zoo et d'autres. "La section nord-ouest a besoin d'être nettoyée un peu." C'est ce qu'il dit. Il met ensuite une marque sur la carte. "Et vous trouverez les produits de nettoyage ici." Il ajoute. Il sort alors une clé. "Voici la clé du hangar." Il dit, puis regarde la carte. "Je pense que vous devriez aussi voir ma fille dans le stylo à renards aussi, la connaissant." Il dit alors un peu chuckling. Pendant ce temps, Celina grimpait, un peu d'un uniforme de protection sur elle quand elle monte sur le sol, les renards se cachant un peu d'elle en ce moment, peu sûr d'elle. Elle était nouvelle pour eux, donc ils ne lui faisaient pas vraiment confiance.

Username: Evanist | Character Name: Celina Letendre | Character Age: 14 | Character Gendre: Female | Character Grade: 8th grade Appearance: ((the section I hate doing)) Celina has rather short black hair with brown eyes. She usually wears a dark blue shirt with jeans. She also as a small scar on the right side of her face, but not too big. Personality: Calm, loves animals, but also is kinda of a gamer girl. Will rp the rest out. Biography: Celina didn’t have the easy life when she was young. To start off, her father was rarely home, always working here and there, taking care of the zoo he managed. Her mother would stay at home, taking care of the house and Celina. It would have been alright if Celina didn’t have problems with the girls at school. You see… she didn’t really fit in with them. They were interested in dolls and such, she was interested in video games and a bit of computers. She discovered she was better with talking with the boys of the school then the girls ironically, but this make the girls actually hate her for not being like them. But Celina didn’t take no mind to them and their insults. In her free times, Celina kept visiting her dad’s zoo, actually looking at the animals and sometimes taking care of them. She actually felt really good being this close to animals, especially some domesticated silver foxes that were taken in the zoo after being injured. Although she did like being with the animals, she did have a accident when playing with the foxes, having been scratched right near the face. The injuried healed soon enough, but left a small scar over Celina’s face. Life continued on until that one day the girls at school broke her patience, having done something that would make them regret ever having messed with Celina. That day, the girls wanted to play a prank on her, using glue to go and pour it right at Celina’s hair during break time. They had succeeded on pouring the liquid on her hair, laughing loudly, until the fist went. Celina, mad at the girl, gave a big punch right at the girl’s face, actually knocking her out cold in one his as the others stare and scream, and a adult came and saw what happen, only to see the glue all over Celina’s hair.. Celina didn’t get in trouble for the hit, but because of the glue, she was obliged to cut down her hair. She stayed at home for the whole week after that, saddened. It was one thing she actually cared about, and those girls ruined it. When she got back into class, the girls stood away from her, the girl she hit having a large bandage over the right side of her face where the punch had hit. Life continued on after that until Celina’s parents decided that it would be best to move away now, her dad having been transferred to another zoo near the Kadic school. It took some time for Celina to get use to the new place, prefering to stay at home for a bit, uncomfortable with her new home. It was a bit smaller then their last one, but the money flowed more then before, her dad making more money from the job. At least he could keep the family financially in check… After some time, after getting ready, her mom told her it was time to go to school now and meet new people. Celina was unsure, but decided to go with it. It was going to be her first day at school. This …. Would be interesting. Other: I been doing too much hopscotch and now I am tired.

Voyant comment le monstre géant de la sphère était juste assis, Garsin a décidé d'essayer de casser l'œuf envahi. Il a rappelé l'étrange violoncelle à lui-même et a frappé quelques longues tonalités basses créant cette explosion sonore qu'il a découvert plus tôt qui a soufflé un trou dans un arbre. Si l'attaque était débordée par l'arbre et coupée à travers, peut-être que ça pourrait lui faire quelque chose, il devina.

Username: Jollan | Character Name: Garsin Folkvar | Character Age: 16 | Character Gender: male | Character Grade: 9 (started school late) Appearance: Garsin has a large, strong, stocky build and stands at about 5'8". He has tanned skin and short, sandy hair cut high and tight. He has a masculine face with a strong square jaw and a set brow. His eyes are hazel with green in the center that fades to brown on the edge or the iris. He wears button up shirts with the top four buttons undone, the sleeves rolled to just below his elbow, and a white tank top underneath. He normally wears cargo khaki pants with a wallet chain and dark brown work boots. On his right wrist he has a stainless steel bracelet that matches the one around his neck, and a ring on his right ring finger and thumb. As for his left arm he wears a black durable watch that can tell him the time through beeps when he presses a button on it. He normally walks with a foldable cane with yellow and red tape around it so that people can see it as he walks around. There is a pouch on his belt to put the cane while he isn't using it. Personality: Though he can look intimidating, he normally keeps to himself. He is somewhat shy but polite, though he is very self conscious about his cane accidentally hitting or tripping people to the point where he tries to walk without using it so much,... and then running into people. His large size and stature don't really do much to help him either, but that is halfway his own fault for working out so much. He has a silent anger that will build and flare up on occasion, but has the maturity not to act recklessly most of the time. Biography: Garsin was born blind which made it difficult for him in school. when he was little, he was even held back from starting kindergarten because his parents were unsure if he was ready. After a while he was able to read braille, and with the help of tutors, get through his first couple of years at school. The jewelry he wears are hand-me-downs from his grandfather before he passed away. His family never had a lot of money to send Garsin to a private school or to pay tutors at later grades as he grew up. Though when Garsin had started getting into fights at school from people picking at his condition and poverty, his parents decided to home-school him. After a while, and due to a greater amount of focus outside of the public schools, Garsin was doing well in his studies. A friend of the family suggested Kadic Junior High to them and while the parents were unsure due to costs, Garsin was able to get in due to his grades and passing a test to see if he qualified outside of home-schooling. He was able to get a hold of some nice looking clothes at a thrift store so that he could at least look like he didn't come from a lower income household. However, old wounds didn't seem to heal to well, and he mostly tries to stay out of people's way. Other: Garsin usually likes to spend his time in the gym, doing weight training and excising. His most prize possession is a cello which he likes to play and he keeps it in his dorm room. This "number 9" foul up everyone is talking about.... I feel it is a malicious attack on the well being of my character's life and I shall deal with it accordingly.

{\pos(192,220)}C'est pas vrai. {\pos(192,220)} <Lino/Dave>: "D'accord, tout est fait! Je dois être quelque part, donc, je te vois plus tard ami." Boice a dit avec un petit sourire. Elle s'est retournée pour partir, et est sortie de la porte, disparaissant dehors. Après une courte promenade vers un restaurant voisin, elle s'assit au bar et regarda le t.v. jouer dans un coin. "A partir de maintenant, nous ne savons toujours pas ce qui a causé la perte de contrôle sudaine dans l'avion." <Maya/Bella/Flippy>: « À partir de maintenant, nous ne savons toujours pas ce qui a causé la perte soudaine de contrôle dans l'avion. Le pilote a été mis hors service, et le copilote était actuellement en formation. Les agents des compagnies aériennes ont trouvé quelqu'un capable de prendre les commandes, mais l'avion ne fonctionne toujours pas. À ce stade, nous estimons que l'avion touchera le sol dans cinq minutes s'il ne peut pas prendre le contrôle. Nous conseillons à tout le monde d'appeler leur-" Josive trouvé un t.v. station annonçant le décent d'un avion à proximité. Il ne comprenait pas ce qu'ils disaient, donc il a rapidement utilisé un programme de traduction automatique qu'il a dû aider à comprendre. Il a tiré quelques liens utiles montrant où l'avion était actuellement, c'est un taux décent, et la trajectoire. "Oh les gars, nous avons un gros problème ici. Je crois que j'ai découvert ce que XANA a fait. Il y a un avion qui va toucher le sol dans cinq minutes. On dirait qu'il visait l'école il y a un moment, mais il vise maintenant l'usine! J'organise un retour automatique au passé. J'ai calculé exactement quand il va frapper, et faire activer le retour au passé avant qu'il ne s'écrase. Alors, tu auras jusqu'alors pour faire finir cette tour! » {Maya} <Bella/Flippy>: "Qu'est-ce qui se passe? Je ne peux pas entrer! Il y a un dôme rouge autour de la tour maintenant." Maya a dit, a regardé vers le haut. La première attaque de Bella a été gelée alors que le monster cube a tiré un faisceau de glace dessus, gelant le mur de feu avant qu'il ne frappe. Sa deuxième attaque, une ligne jaune verticale, s'est étendue de quelques pieds devant elle sur le sol, en chargeant vers les ennemis. Le cube a essayé de sortir du chemin, mais le sol au-dessous s'est transformé en sable rapide, le faisant lentement couler à travers le sol. Il a rapidement tiré de la glace autour de lui, reliant ses jambes au sol solide de chaque côté du long chemin de sable rapide, l'empêchant de couler. Le cube s'est retourné vers le haut, tirant à nouveau des lasers à Bella, mais cette fois le mur de feu est venu à elle et l'a dévirtualisé. Le cube Flippy attaque glisse à l'envers de chaque frappe, esquivant les attaques à une vitesse incroyable. Il l'a presque obtenu dans le symbole, mais un seul laser a frappé Flippy dans la poitrine dur, l'envoyant loin. Le mini-crabe qui tournait autour de l'étrange flèche s'est arrêté à nouveau, et a commencé à tirer sur tout le monde, mais leur précision s'est aggravée plus ils avaient arrêté de danser... y compris les autres monstres. Le cube-monstre s'est rapidement retourné vers lui, et a tiré un laser sur l'un d'eux, frappant le sol à côté de lui et les renvoyant tous autour de la flèche et le tournant à nouveau. C'est quoi, ça? <Sam/Garsin/Bella/Flippy/Maya>: L'explosion de Garsin sur le monstre l'a envoyé rouler vers les mini-craps et leur tour, s'écraser sur l'un d'eux et pousser légèrement la tour sur. La balle s'est rapidement déplacée de l'autre côté, et s'est enfoncée dedans, la poussant vers le centre avant qu'elle ne tombe. Après la destruction du kankrelat, le dôme autour de la tour a clignoté un moment, et les attaques du cube restant ont cessé d'être aussi précises, et l'ont ralenti un petit peu. "Je crois que je l'ai! Nous devons éliminer cet Obélisque. Ça empêche Aeilta d'entrer dans la tour, et ça rend les autres plus forts! Vite, on doit l'enlever d'une manière ou d'une autre pour qu'Aeilta puisse entrer dans la tour!" William a crié à tout le monde. Il tenait rapidement son épée devant lui, se transformant en fumée, et se déplaçait rapidement à travers le champ vers l'Obélisque. Le monstre de la sphère l'a vu, et s'est déployé pour protéger les petits crapauds restants et l'Obélisque. Elle s'ouvrit, chargeant une attaque, et William sortit de son mode fumigène pour faire tomber son épée sur le monstre. Le monstre s'est rapidement refermé, attraper l'épée que William tenait une fois de plus. "Arrrg!" William a crié, lui a serré la main droite en colère alors qu'il essayait d'arracher l'épée.

NPC's List For a complete list of official characters, follow this link. Missing Lyoko Warriors: Jeremie Belpois Aelita Schaeffer Aelita Schaeffer is one of the missing Lyoko Warriors. She has been discovered on Lyoko, in the Forest Sector. She has no memory of how she got there, or of Lyoko, other than the symbol commonly seen throughout Lyoko. She does remember Kadic. Odd Della Robbia Ulrich Stern Yumi Ishiyama William Dunbar Teachers and Staff of Kadic Gilles Fumet - Social Studies Teacher Gustave Chardin - Art Teacher Hans Klotz - School Psychologist Jean Pierre Delmas - Principal Jean-Pierre Delmas, known by the students at Kadic as Mr. Delmas, to Sissi as Daddy or Dad, and is the headmaster/principal of Kadic. He is very straightforward and weak-minded, as his daughter Sissi can often boss him around, sometimes to the advantage or disadvantage of Team Lyoko. He is very ignorant and gullible as seen in his dealings with his daughter and members of Team Lyoko. She has convinced him many times to organize school dances and other activities for her (or rather, has _demanded_ for him to do so). Jim Morales - Physical Education Teacher/Dorm Manager Jim Morales, also known as Jimbo, is the Physical Education teacher at Kadic, and the campus supervisor and the health teacher. He has a love handle on his stomach and is shown to eat fairly unhealthy, but while he is overweight he is shown to be very strong in many episodes. He always has a bandage on his left cheek and tucks his trousers into his socks and wears a headband. He always wears a white t-shirt and red sweatpants and a red sweatshirt. Mrs. Meyer - Math Teacher Mrs. Meyer is the math teacher at Kadic. Nicole Weber - Office Secretary Nicoletta "Nicole" Weber is the office secretary in Kadic Academy. Her room is beside the Principal Delmas' room. Rosa Petitjean - Lunch Lady Suzanne Hertz - Science Teacher Suzanne Hertz, known by the students as Mrs. Hertz or Ms. Hertz and by Jim as Suzanne, is the science and a homeroom teacher at Kadic. She replaced Franz Hopper as a science teacher. She usually does a lot of experiments with her students, some of which help them against X.A.N.A.'s attack. She is shown to have a sense of humor. Jim Morales, the PE teacher and campus supervisor, is shown to have a crush on her in the second season. She deeply loves nature. Yolande Perraudin - School Nurse Students of Kadic Elisabeth "Sissi" Delmas - Popular and punkish 8th Grader Elisabeth "Sissi" Delmas is an often mean, spoiled and popular student at Kadic. She often pesters Team Lyoko, most of the time to win Ulrich's affections. However, she admits in Holiday in the Fog that she is gaining their attention through her mean actions towards them. By so doing she is almost making enemies out of her would-be friends, instead of gaining any of their respect, much to her chagrin. At the end of the series, in Echoes, she achieves this at last and becomes an official friend of the group. She is also the daughter of Mr. Delmas, the principal of Kadic, the boarding school she attends and lives in. She is a major recurring character. Herb Pichon - Friend of Sissi, 8th Grader Herb Pichon (also spelled Hervé Pichon) is a ninth grader at Kadic and a classmate to the Lyoko Warriors. He is the second-in-command of Sissi's Gang, and sometimes even the boss in times of emergency when Sissi proves to be incompetent, as he is obviously the most intelligent in their group. Herb is also in love with Sissi, although he can't tell her because she has crushes on various people including Ulrich and Theo Gauthier. Nicholas Poliakoff - Friend of Sissi, 8th Grader Nicolas Poliakoff is a ninth grader at Kadic. He is a member of Sissi's gang, and mostly just stands there staring into space unless Sissi orders him to follow her. He is the stereotypical dumb, muscle kind of bully. It is still unknown why exactly Nicholas joined Sissi's "gang", but it is probably due to the fact Herb did. Nicholas also has a crush on Aelita, but has never acted on it. He can play the drums, and is in the Pop Rock Progressives, a band started by Odd. As a result, he is certainly more tolerant of and kinder toward Team Lyoko than Herb and Sissi are. In some episodes, it is shown he has at least some degree of intelligence, as he wrote the play in Laughing Fit. Nicholas is also easy to scare, as is Herb. Emmanuel "Mike" Maillard - Average 8th Grader, drummer Mike isn't a very popular kid. Nor is he unknown either. He's pretty generic in a lot of ways, though he is pretty friendly and is willing to help others in need. Though, a XANA attack would surely scare him into submission. He wears a long-sleeve red shirt, with a black t-shirt over top, and usually shorts. He wears a necklace around his neck. He has long black hair, kept some in a ponytail. Active Roleplayer Applications Josive Ferrara Username: Teknonick | Character Name: Josive Ferrara | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 8th Appearance: Josive's hair color is a jet black, and kept at average length. He wears a long-sleeve blue shirt, and simple jeans. His shoes are good for running in, but not any big-name brands. He weighs about a hundred pounds, and stands four feet and eleven inches tall. Personality: Josive's personality is usually shy to those he doesn't know, but completely open to anyone he has met before, even for a few seconds. Josive tends to be very serious at times, and tries to think things logically before acting. Biography: Josive Ferrana was a very smart baby, no, a genius. Within his first months he learned to walk and talk, and soon after learned to solve puzzles. As he grew older, so did his intelligence. He learned coding and robotics, always spending his money on more parts rather than magazines or games. Josive's parent's relationship was always debatable, which pushed him even farther away from them, and henceforth pushing his parents away more. Josive preferred being alone, which also lead to his curious behavior. Josive was the kid that would enter an abandoned house, just to see what was inside, or climb up a tree to see a little farther. As he grew older, his parents got farther and farther away, almost to the point of divorce. Often, he would be sent away to his grandfather's house, and play with him, or learn more about programming. His grandfather was very into computers and hunting (A strange mix) which led to Josive learning to hunt. Though, Josive barely retains any knowledge of the skill of hunting, he still thinks back to the days with his grandparent. On Josive's twelfth birthday, he got the worst gift a child could get. His parents were almost at the point of violence, but they wanted better for their child. They decided to send him off to a school where he could be by himself, and not see them fight. He was sent to Kadic junior high school, about a whole state away, so he got a room inside the junior high school. As a gift, his grandfather gave Josive a locket of himself, so he could remember him. The better gift he liked. Exactly a month ago is when Jeremy and his friends had gone missing, and there was absolutely no sign of them coming back. Josive is about to be assigned Jeremie's room. Little does he know he will be taking on a bigger challenge than junior high school. Other: I think I should take a look at the rules again. Especially rule 9. That one's my favorite.Bella Username: Gambit | Character Name: Bella | Character Age: 14 | Character Gender: Female | Character Grade: 8th Appearance: Blueish-black shoulder length hair with long bangs, bright blue eyes, and freckles across her nose. Bella is of average height and weight. She wears a tan colored crochet beret, a button down shirt, jeans, and sneakers. She always wears a silver dragon necklace, and is also fond of scarves. Personality: Bella is very outgoing and enjoys being around her friends. She is an artist and writer, so she is very creative, but she thinks very logically. She does not like talking about anything personal unless with someone very close. When she is stressed or upset she comes across as angry instead. When she is actually angry she gets very cold and quiet. Biography: Bella lived in New Hampshire with her parents and older brother. She attended a private school there and studied art whenever possible, and had a lot of friends. She was very close to her older brother. Whenever she was having trouble Bella would go to him for advise. Everything seemed to be going well until her brother vanished in the middle of the night. The police said that he had likely run away from home. Bella was heartbroken when her brother didn't come home. She started having trouble in school and lashed out at anyone who tried to help her. Bella's parents eventually decided to send her to Kadic Junior High school in hopes that Bella could have a new start.Flippy Takeshi Username: gamer5910 | Character Name: Flippy Takeshi | Character Age: 14 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 8th Appearance: Flippy is 5'3" with blue hair and blue eyes he is skinny-ish but can fight well and can run really well. He wears a light black hoodie with cat ears on it, a light blue shirt beneath, black sweat pants with white shoes with black laces, and also can't forget about his headphones they are a darker blue than his hair with a magenta color for the cord. Personality: Flippy isn't that social but when he is he comes off really friendly, but to get him to be social is like to see a double rainbow during a lunar eclipse. Due to his past he doesn't like being asked about his mother or father but he does answer about how many grandparents, siblings, or cousins, he has which most people tend to ask him. He is also known to be very Popular which in that case it is prouder to be picked on for that reason, but he just puts on his headphones and ignores the people picking on him. Bio: When Flippy was born in Japan he had no brother or sister, and his father worked for the army so he didn't get to see him often. His mom on the other hand he saw every day with a smile. Ever since Flippy was five two things happened to him that he will never for get one was his spent the one day a year he could coming to his sons birthday, and his gift to Flippy was wooden katana hand carved by his own father. He also found out he loved two things drawing and computers. Since he loved those two things he wanted to find a carrier that could involve one or the other which meant he didn't have much time for social time he spent his time up to the age of 12 drawing learning about computers. His mother told him they had to move but since Flippy had no friends he didn't really care. So for the next two years Flippy was getting better and better at his hobbies, but one day his school burnt down and he had to switch to Kacid Academy which made him have to leave his mom and live in one of the rooms at the school. The day before Flippy left his mother gave him a necklace which had a yin-yang symbol on it his mother told him it has been past down from her mothers mother to him, so he treasured it just like his wooden katana from his dad. It took him a month to get packed and ready to move into the school it was a easy transaction, but when he arrived he heard that a group of students went missing. He was curios at first but just kept to his work and didn't care after a while, so from then on out its been a normal life to him, or so it seems. Other: I can't think of anything good to say about rule 9, but it is a good rule to follow.Garsin Folkvar Username: Jollan | Character Name: Garsin Folkvar | Character Age: 16 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 9th Appearance: Garsin has a large, strong, stocky build and stands at about 5'8". He has tanned skin and short, sandy hair cut high and tight. He has a masculine face with a strong square jaw and a set brow. His eyes are hazel with green in the center that fades to brown on the edge or the iris. He wears button up shirts with the top four buttons undone, the sleeves rolled to just below his elbow, and a white tank top underneath. He normally wears cargo khaki pants with a wallet chain and dark brown work boots. On his right wrist he has a stainless steel bracelet that matches the one around his neck, and a ring on his right ring finger and thumb. As for his left arm he wears a black durable watch that can tell him the time through beeps when he presses a button on it. He normally walks with a foldable cane with yellow and red tape around it so that people can see it as he walks around. There is a pouch on his belt to put the cane while he isn't using it. Personality: Though he can look intimidating, he normally keeps to himself. He is somewhat shy but polite, though he is very self conscious about his cane accidentally hitting or tripping people to the point where he tries to walk without using it so much,... and then running into people. His large size and stature don't really do much to help him either, but that is halfway his own fault for working out so much. He has a silent anger that will build and flare up on occasion, but has the maturity not to act recklessly most of the time. Biography: Garsin was born blind which made it difficult for him in school. when he was little, he was even held back from starting kindergarten because his parents were unsure if he was ready. After a while he was able to read braille, and with the help of tutors, get through his first couple of years at school. The jewelry he wears are hand-me-downs from his grandfather before he passed away. His family never had a lot of money to send Garsin to a private school or to pay tutors at later grades as he grew up. Though when Garsin had started getting into fights at school from people picking at his condition and poverty, his parents decided to home-school him. After a while, and due to a greater amount of focus outside of the public schools, Garsin was doing well in his studies. A friend of the family suggested Kadic Junior High to them and while the parents were unsure due to costs, Garsin was able to get in due to his grades and passing a test to see if he qualified outside of home-schooling. He was able to get a hold of some nice looking clothes at a thrift store so that he could at least look like he didn't come from a lower income household. However, old wounds didn't seem to heal to well, and he mostly tries to stay out of people's way. Other: Garsin usually likes to spend his time in the gym, doing weight training and excising. His most prize possession is a cello which he likes to play and he keeps it in his dorm room. This "number 9" foul up everyone is talking about.... I feel it is a malicious attack on the well being of my character's life and I shall deal with it accordingly.Jared Chang Username: Alternax | Character Name: Jared Chang | Character Age: 12 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 7th Appearance: Jared has a lightly tanned skin, though most people notice his eyes slight slant, and higher cheekbones. He has short black hair brushed to his left side. He has a moderate build showing that he is stronger than he looks, standing at an 5'2. He usually wears t-shirts of various designs, but he is partial to a dark green shirt with a traditional chinese dragon coiled up in the center blowing fire, and blue jeans.He often wears a jansport backpack to school, along with a barely noticeable jade ring attached to a necklace around his neck. Personality: Joyful, generally happy, growing up in outside Asia with foreign parents wasn't easy but he's managed to keep a good attitude about it. Although he is generally happy he is slow to warm up to strangers, due to most people teasing him or pushing his patience repetitively. When he does warm up to someone it's as if he becomes someone completely different, always cracking jokes, and even using sarcasm. Biography: Growing up in china Jared's parents sought a better life for their family. Finding the perfect job in France, and after discussing this with American tourists Jared's father jumped into this chance and planned their trip. After a few weeks of settling in and deciding on a house Jared's family set down, wasting no time in planning Jared's education they found that he was to take intense language classes at Kadic Junior High. Spending the his first year trying to master the local language he managed to learn a good understanding, though his accent still shows up in most sentences. Now in his 7th grade year Jared finds himself pressured even harder by his parents, no longer able to hide under the excuse of a language barrier Jared spends alot of his time reading or studying for his own amusement or his classes. Other: I don't understand how that two 9 thing works but i'll take your word for it.Sam Spark Username: NightmareInd | Character Name: Sam Spark | Character Age: 15 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 9th Appearance: Dark blond hair, green eyes. He has average weight and height. He wears a white hoodie and grey jeans. He also has a bracelet with the logo from his favourite video game. Biography: He was an orphan, and got bullied a lot. He turned to gaming as it was his way to take out his frustration. He recently moved to another orphanage, which made him come to the new school. He now wants to finally get some friends. (Sorry it is so short, I don't got much inspiration right now) Other: I'm confused, there two nines but there aren't? Inactive Roleplayer Applications Arndt Schulz Account Name: RawrgnatheBloodfridge | Character Name: Arndt Schulz | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: 8th Appearance: Arndt constantly sports some sort of Beanie on top of his head, even holding a prized collection of them. His hair is long enough to be seen poking out the back and front of his beanie and has a distinctly coffee brown look to it. His eyes are an emerald shade of green, and his eyebrows fairly thin. He normally wears some sort of T-shirt with an un-done button-up shirt over it. Generally preferring jeans, though he'll wear shorts whenever it gets hot and runs on Adidas shoes. He stands at 5'2", weighing in at 124 pounds. Personality: Arndt has a hard-working attitude, with a dry sense of humor. Though he does act stubborn and hard-headed initially, he warms up to others very quickly, becoming very loyal and even protective to an extent. Arndt is normally a rational thinker, never really going outside of the box or thinking abstractly, but just trying to get through life with the rules he's given. Biography: Arndt grew up in Western Germany living in the city of Bielefeld. His parents were strict, always pushing the virtue of hard-work onto his shoulders. As Arndt grew up, he was constantly worked to the bone, hardly allowed time for anything but helping his father with carpentry and schoolwork. When Arndt turned ten years old, he was enrolled into a private school where he was taught the importance of History and Science, despite being told earlier in his life that he only needed hard work and persistence. The only thing that gave him much enjoyment was collecting beanies he would buy whenever his family went on trips. At the age of twelve his family received a letter asking him to come to a school in France called Kadic. His parents at first were reluctant, but at being told he would move in, they immediately agreed. Now being forced to adjust to French society, Arndt enters Kadic Junior-high as an 8th grader. Other: Even though the number 9 wasn't on there twice, I guess I'll make a comment about it.Sezaru Kumoi Username: AncientHalo | Character Name: Sezaru Kumoi | Character Age: 14 | Character Gender: Male | Character Grade: Freshman Year (9th) Appearance: Almost abnormally tall for his age, Sezaru stands at about five feet and six inches tall. He does not wear a hat at all, his hair is strangely a sleek silver with traces of black highlights which normally would give an ominous appearance. The skin complexion is fairly white yet almost seemingly pale when outside in the sun, though he does not care to eventually get slightly tanned during the day. Athletically built, having played tennis since the age of four, Sezaru naturally has a muscle-toned body from his years playing tennis with equally broad arms due to being ambidextrous. His normal everyday clothing consists that of a white-collared button down shirt with a black light jacket on top despite any weather condition along with some jeans for the most part. Sometimes he will wear regular semi-loose jeans and other times he will wear ripped jeans. His legs are slightly broad as well due to having to condition his body daily in order to keep his athleticism at its peak. Personality: While projecting an ominous air around himself that screams "Come and Make Fun of Me!", Sezaru is actually a person who takes things seriously and will not hesitate to put people in their place with strong and potentially hurtful words. Sezaru is also almost never is one to enjoy humor. Yes, Sezaru will smile to show that the current conversation or joke is fine with him but rarely ever he will laugh as the most you will hear from him is a chuckle in the background. Despite being athletic and on the Tennis Team in Kadic Academy, Sezaru rarely ever likes to make friends and thus usually his only friends consist of those who actually take the time to understand him and those who are the Tennis Team as well. However, despite rarely wanting to make friends Sezaru is a kind and friendly person who is willing to help out with anything he is capable of. Biography: Albeit being a gifted child since the age of four in the sport of Tennis, he doesn't care much for his background. Just that Sezaru loved to play Tennis day in and day out, his passion and his life. The childhood life of Sezaru somehow felt somewhat empty because despite having a talent for Tennis, he missed a lot of quality time with his parents and thus missed out on a lot of love and care. Born in Spain where Tennis was potentially and arguably the second most loved sport in the country, Sezaru's first language was obviously Spanish and learned other languages due to the revenue he was making by winning local and sectional tournaments. Sadly during the year he had turned 13 and was turning 14, his parents got into an argument which resulted in separation and sending Sezaru to French Boarding School known as Kadic Academy. During his time in the eighth grade at Kadic Academy, Sezaru began to drift away from people and change his appearance to a new style which somehow begat an ominous around his persona and for the most part avoided him. The only things Sezaru brought with him were photos of his family, Tennis gear/clothing, regular clothing and some snacks he brought over from Spain. So, being gifted in school and scoring constant credit rolls and learning of the Tennis Team... Sezaru decided to join the team in order to ease his tensions from everyday life back at home. Of course, that was only an excuse to make himself known in France for Tennis just as he was known back in Spain. Other: Original Theme Song: Be Somebody - Thousand Foot Krutch Hopscotch Battle Theme Song: Take it out on Me - Thousand Foot Krutch

Garsin a essayé de penser rapidement, "qu'est-ce qui ferait que cette créature garde sa garde ouverte?" Il regarda William, encore une fois, se coincer son épée dans l'impénétrable coquille de l'Obélisque. "J'ai une idée! Tout le monde, couvrez vos oreilles et préparez-vous à attaquer! » Manuellement, Garsin a commencé à jouer les notes shrill haut de gamme sur le cou qui l'avait presque paralysé avant. Espérons qu'il créerait juste assez d'une ouverture pour faire tomber la créature de ses défenses et provoquer une ouverture à frapper.

Username: Jollan | Character Name: Garsin Folkvar | Character Age: 16 | Character Gender: male | Character Grade: 9 (started school late) Appearance: Garsin has a large, strong, stocky build and stands at about 5'8". He has tanned skin and short, sandy hair cut high and tight. He has a masculine face with a strong square jaw and a set brow. His eyes are hazel with green in the center that fades to brown on the edge or the iris. He wears button up shirts with the top four buttons undone, the sleeves rolled to just below his elbow, and a white tank top underneath. He normally wears cargo khaki pants with a wallet chain and dark brown work boots. On his right wrist he has a stainless steel bracelet that matches the one around his neck, and a ring on his right ring finger and thumb. As for his left arm he wears a black durable watch that can tell him the time through beeps when he presses a button on it. He normally walks with a foldable cane with yellow and red tape around it so that people can see it as he walks around. There is a pouch on his belt to put the cane while he isn't using it. Personality: Though he can look intimidating, he normally keeps to himself. He is somewhat shy but polite, though he is very self conscious about his cane accidentally hitting or tripping people to the point where he tries to walk without using it so much,... and then running into people. His large size and stature don't really do much to help him either, but that is halfway his own fault for working out so much. He has a silent anger that will build and flare up on occasion, but has the maturity not to act recklessly most of the time. Biography: Garsin was born blind which made it difficult for him in school. when he was little, he was even held back from starting kindergarten because his parents were unsure if he was ready. After a while he was able to read braille, and with the help of tutors, get through his first couple of years at school. The jewelry he wears are hand-me-downs from his grandfather before he passed away. His family never had a lot of money to send Garsin to a private school or to pay tutors at later grades as he grew up. Though when Garsin had started getting into fights at school from people picking at his condition and poverty, his parents decided to home-school him. After a while, and due to a greater amount of focus outside of the public schools, Garsin was doing well in his studies. A friend of the family suggested Kadic Junior High to them and while the parents were unsure due to costs, Garsin was able to get in due to his grades and passing a test to see if he qualified outside of home-schooling. He was able to get a hold of some nice looking clothes at a thrift store so that he could at least look like he didn't come from a lower income household. However, old wounds didn't seem to heal to well, and he mostly tries to stay out of people's way. Other: Garsin usually likes to spend his time in the gym, doing weight training and excising. His most prize possession is a cello which he likes to play and he keeps it in his dorm room. This "number 9" foul up everyone is talking about.... I feel it is a malicious attack on the well being of my character's life and I shall deal with it accordingly.

<Bella> Il y en a tellement! Bella pensait qu'elle essayait de se dépêcher à travers le champ de bataille. Elle a regardé vers le haut pour voir le dôme rouge qui couvre la tour, causé par l'obélisque et les monstres dansants. Bella s'est tournée vers l'obélisque et a balancé la peinture pourpre en forme de Z avec son pinceau au groupe, couvrant ses oreilles en même temps en entendant le commandement de la nouvelle personne. <Lino> Après avoir fini avec les papiers et changé en son uniforme, Lino est rentré dans le zoo. Il erra, essayant de trouver les endroits que Dave avait marqués, jusqu'à ce qu'il se produise sur l'enceinte des renards et Celina à l'intérieur. "Hé là-bas," il l'a appelée avec une vague.

Username: Shadolord | Character Name: Alice Vale | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Female | Character Grade: 8 Appearance: Doesn't wear any hat though does wear a headband that has black cat ears attached. Her green eyes staring out to take in more than most would realize. She was rather small for her age her arms and torso are slender that seemed likely to snap in a strong breeze. She frequently wears black jeans to hide her long legs and protect her alabaster skin from darkening in the sun. Hiding her flat chest inside of a baggy tee-shirt normally of a darker color. Her belt has a tail attached to the back of it. Personality: Alice is a cat at heart. How she speaks and moves show her as a playful predator. She can rub people the wrong way but cares alot about how everyone feels. Anything she does is normally to make others happier. Her personality also can change strangely if you scratch her. She feels incredibly curious about what is going on in the world. Biography: Alice is a boarder student while her parents live in Italy she went to Kadic to receive one of the best educations she could. Her father was very supportive and her mother was against the idea because she was afraid of losing her and it would take hours to get there if she needed them. When she went to school in Florence people found her incredibly odd but when she announced she was leaving someone gave her the cat ears she wears everyday now. Other: Lists shouldn't have multiples of the same number.

Celina sourit alors qu'elle regardait Lino, puis fit une vague. Elle a ensuite avancé lentement vers les renards, montrant une main. Les renards semblaient confus, avant d'avancer et de renifler un peu sa main. Juste à ce moment-là, l'un d'entre eux s'est un peu aveuglé un peu plus, se branlant un peu la main. "Voilà... c'est bon..." dit-elle, assis. Elle a ensuite commencé à le caresser lentement et a ensuite pris de la nourriture de sa poche, des menaces de renards et les a nourris. Elle sourit doucement. "Lino, aide-moi avec cette partie de la cage." Elle dit alors, pointant vers le désordre, probablement avec caca et tout ça. "Un peu de nettoyage de cet endroit ne pouvait pas faire de mal. Les renards ne devraient pas vous déranger." Elle dit ensuite doucement.

Username: Evanist | Character Name: Celina Letendre | Character Age: 14 | Character Gendre: Female | Character Grade: 8th grade Appearance: ((the section I hate doing)) Celina has rather short black hair with brown eyes. She usually wears a dark blue shirt with jeans. She also as a small scar on the right side of her face, but not too big. Personality: Calm, loves animals, but also is kinda of a gamer girl. Will rp the rest out. Biography: Celina didn’t have the easy life when she was young. To start off, her father was rarely home, always working here and there, taking care of the zoo he managed. Her mother would stay at home, taking care of the house and Celina. It would have been alright if Celina didn’t have problems with the girls at school. You see… she didn’t really fit in with them. They were interested in dolls and such, she was interested in video games and a bit of computers. She discovered she was better with talking with the boys of the school then the girls ironically, but this make the girls actually hate her for not being like them. But Celina didn’t take no mind to them and their insults. In her free times, Celina kept visiting her dad’s zoo, actually looking at the animals and sometimes taking care of them. She actually felt really good being this close to animals, especially some domesticated silver foxes that were taken in the zoo after being injured. Although she did like being with the animals, she did have a accident when playing with the foxes, having been scratched right near the face. The injuried healed soon enough, but left a small scar over Celina’s face. Life continued on until that one day the girls at school broke her patience, having done something that would make them regret ever having messed with Celina. That day, the girls wanted to play a prank on her, using glue to go and pour it right at Celina’s hair during break time. They had succeeded on pouring the liquid on her hair, laughing loudly, until the fist went. Celina, mad at the girl, gave a big punch right at the girl’s face, actually knocking her out cold in one his as the others stare and scream, and a adult came and saw what happen, only to see the glue all over Celina’s hair.. Celina didn’t get in trouble for the hit, but because of the glue, she was obliged to cut down her hair. She stayed at home for the whole week after that, saddened. It was one thing she actually cared about, and those girls ruined it. When she got back into class, the girls stood away from her, the girl she hit having a large bandage over the right side of her face where the punch had hit. Life continued on after that until Celina’s parents decided that it would be best to move away now, her dad having been transferred to another zoo near the Kadic school. It took some time for Celina to get use to the new place, prefering to stay at home for a bit, uncomfortable with her new home. It was a bit smaller then their last one, but the money flowed more then before, her dad making more money from the job. At least he could keep the family financially in check… After some time, after getting ready, her mom told her it was time to go to school now and meet new people. Celina was unsure, but decided to go with it. It was going to be her first day at school. This …. Would be interesting. Other: I been doing too much hopscotch and now I am tired.

<Lino> -- Très bien, dit Lino, alors qu'il regardait Celina coaxer le renard pour venir à elle. Jolis animaux, il pensait qu'il ouvrait la porte et marchait dans l'enceinte. Les renards s'éloignèrent de lui en marchant vers l'avant. Il semblait qu'il n'était pas aussi bon avec les animaux que Celina. Blech, pensait-il, se plissé le nez alors qu'il voyait le désordre qu'il était maintenant en charge du nettoyage. Il a pris un râteau qui s'appuyait sur le côté de la clôture et a commencé à râler. De l'angle de l'œil, Lino remarqua un petit renard qui rampait vers lui. Il a prétendu qu'il n'y prêtait pas attention, et le renard s'est serré de plus en plus. Une fois qu'il était à quelques pieds de là, il a tendu la main au renard. "Hé vous," dit-il au petit renard.

Username: Shadolord | Character Name: Alice Vale | Character Age: 13 | Character Gender: Female | Character Grade: 8 Appearance: Doesn't wear any hat though does wear a headband that has black cat ears attached. Her green eyes staring out to take in more than most would realize. She was rather small for her age her arms and torso are slender that seemed likely to snap in a strong breeze. She frequently wears black jeans to hide her long legs and protect her alabaster skin from darkening in the sun. Hiding her flat chest inside of a baggy tee-shirt normally of a darker color. Her belt has a tail attached to the back of it. Personality: Alice is a cat at heart. How she speaks and moves show her as a playful predator. She can rub people the wrong way but cares alot about how everyone feels. Anything she does is normally to make others happier. Her personality also can change strangely if you scratch her. She feels incredibly curious about what is going on in the world. Biography: Alice is a boarder student while her parents live in Italy she went to Kadic to receive one of the best educations she could. Her father was very supportive and her mother was against the idea because she was afraid of losing her and it would take hours to get there if she needed them. When she went to school in Florence people found her incredibly odd but when she announced she was leaving someone gave her the cat ears she wears everyday now. Other: Lists shouldn't have multiples of the same number.

Flippy a senti la douleur aiguë d'être touché dans la poitrine, être frappé en arrière n'a pas aidé non plus. Il était en colère contre ces monstres et espérait qu'ils pourraient descendre avant le retour au passé. Alors qu'il était en position de défense, il a entendu William dire que la chose les gardant de la tour était l'Obélisque. Après William, peu de temps après, il se jeta sur l'ennemi, et juste avant que Bella et Garsin ne commencent à attaquer. Flippy savait que son plan était de charger sur la peinture de Bella et d'envoyer son épée voler à l'Obélisque quand Garsin commence à jouer. Flippy a pris son épée couverte de la peinture pourpre et a continué à courir. Il est arrivé à portée de l'Obélisque et a attendu que Garsin commence à jouer, il aurait alors besoin de faire rapidement la prochaine partie de son plan. Il a commencé à entendre le bruit de Garsin ses notes alors il a jeté son épée comme une lance à l'Obélisque dans l'espoir que son plan fonctionnerait. Mais comme il n'a pas couvert ses oreilles avant la main, Flippy a senti le bruit aigu et aigu qui lui griffait les oreilles pendant quelques secondes. Flippy a réussi à couvrir ses oreilles, mais semble un peu stupéfait par ce qui vient de se passer, ce qui lui a aussi fait tomber à genoux.

**Flippy Takeshi:** Username: gamer5910 |Character Name: Flippy Takeshi |Character Age 14 |Character Gender: Male | Character Grade:8th Appearance: Flippy is 5'3" with blue hair and blue eyes he is skinny-ish but can fight well and can run really well. He wears a light black hoodie with cat ears on it, a light blue shirt beneath, black sweat pants with white shoes with black laces, and also can't forget about his headphones they are a darker blue than his hair with a magenta color for the cord. Personality: Flippy isn't that social but when he is he comes off really friendly, but to get him to be social is like to see a double rainbow during a lunar eclipse. Due to his past he doesn't like being asked about his mother or father but he does answer about how many grandparents, siblings, or cousins, he has which most people tend to ask him. He is also known to be very Popular which in that case it is prouder to be picked on for that reason, but he just puts on his headphones and ignores the people picking on him. Bio: When Flippy was born in Japan he had no brother or sister, and his father worked for the army so he didn't get to see him often. His mom on the other hand he saw every day with a smile. Ever since Flippy was five two things happened to him that he will never for get one was his spent the one day a year he could coming to his sons birthday, and his gift to Flippy was wooden katana hand carved by his own father. He also found out he loved two things drawing and computers. Since he loved those two things he wanted to find a carrier that could involve one or the other which meant he didn't have much time for social time he spent his time up to the age of 12 drawing learning about computers. His mother told him they had to move but since Flippy had no friends he didn't really care. So for the next two years Flippy was getting better and better at his hobbies, but one day his school burnt down and he had to switch to Kacid Academy which made him have to leave his mom and live in one of the rooms at the school. The day before Flippy left his mother gave him a necklace which had a yin-yang symbol on it his mother told him it has been past down from her mothers mother to him, so he treasured it just like his wooden katana from his dad. It took him a month to get packed and ready to move into the school it was a easy transaction, but when he arrived he heard that a group of students went missing. He was curios at first but just kept to his work and didn't care after a while, so from then on out its been a normal life to him, or so it seems. Other: I can't think of anything good to say about rule 9, but it is a good rule to follow.

Celina a continué à prendre soin des renards tandis que Lino faisait son travail, avant de regarder vers lui, le bébé renard a été surpris par le mouvement que Lino a fait, avant de reculer, un peu effrayé en ce moment, allant vers l'endroit où Celina était, 2 renards s'éloignant de Celina puis se déplaçant vers le bébé renard. Celina respire profondément et soupira. « En général, les petits renards sont curieux, mais ils peuvent être surpris très facilement. Ne t'en fais pas trop." Elle dit de lui faire un petit sourire. Puis elle se leva et marcha vers la sortie de la cage. "Gonna doit vérifier les autres animaux en cas de problèmes. Le domaine du léopard des neiges est le prochain Lino, ils sont dans leurs cages en ce moment pour que vous ne vous ennuyiez pas par eux." Elle dit de donner un petit sourire. "Et crois-moi... J'ai fait le même travail que toi quand j'ai commencé. C'est une étape que tout le monde ici doit franchir une fois. » Elle dit :

Username: Evanist | Character Name: Celina Letendre | Character Age: 14 | Character Gendre: Female | Character Grade: 8th grade Appearance: ((the section I hate doing)) Celina has rather short black hair with brown eyes. She usually wears a dark blue shirt with jeans. She also as a small scar on the right side of her face, but not too big. Personality: Calm, loves animals, but also is kinda of a gamer girl. Will rp the rest out. Biography: Celina didn’t have the easy life when she was young. To start off, her father was rarely home, always working here and there, taking care of the zoo he managed. Her mother would stay at home, taking care of the house and Celina. It would have been alright if Celina didn’t have problems with the girls at school. You see… she didn’t really fit in with them. They were interested in dolls and such, she was interested in video games and a bit of computers. She discovered she was better with talking with the boys of the school then the girls ironically, but this make the girls actually hate her for not being like them. But Celina didn’t take no mind to them and their insults. In her free times, Celina kept visiting her dad’s zoo, actually looking at the animals and sometimes taking care of them. She actually felt really good being this close to animals, especially some domesticated silver foxes that were taken in the zoo after being injured. Although she did like being with the animals, she did have a accident when playing with the foxes, having been scratched right near the face. The injuried healed soon enough, but left a small scar over Celina’s face. Life continued on until that one day the girls at school broke her patience, having done something that would make them regret ever having messed with Celina. That day, the girls wanted to play a prank on her, using glue to go and pour it right at Celina’s hair during break time. They had succeeded on pouring the liquid on her hair, laughing loudly, until the fist went. Celina, mad at the girl, gave a big punch right at the girl’s face, actually knocking her out cold in one his as the others stare and scream, and a adult came and saw what happen, only to see the glue all over Celina’s hair.. Celina didn’t get in trouble for the hit, but because of the glue, she was obliged to cut down her hair. She stayed at home for the whole week after that, saddened. It was one thing she actually cared about, and those girls ruined it. When she got back into class, the girls stood away from her, the girl she hit having a large bandage over the right side of her face where the punch had hit. Life continued on after that until Celina’s parents decided that it would be best to move away now, her dad having been transferred to another zoo near the Kadic school. It took some time for Celina to get use to the new place, prefering to stay at home for a bit, uncomfortable with her new home. It was a bit smaller then their last one, but the money flowed more then before, her dad making more money from the job. At least he could keep the family financially in check… After some time, after getting ready, her mom told her it was time to go to school now and meet new people. Celina was unsure, but decided to go with it. It was going to be her first day at school. This …. Would be interesting. Other: I been doing too much hopscotch and now I am tired.

Un grognement rempli s'est échappé des lèvres de Burners alors qu'il soulevait les centaines de livres de sa poitrine. Que de les ramener lentement. Il semblait le faire avec facilité, en raison de ses années de travail avec un tel poids. La sueur a amorti l'arrière de son cou, masquant son blanc, réservoir qu'il utilisait pour cette heure de la journée. Il s'est relevé. Se concentrer sur chaque poussée et traction des poids. La bataille s'aggravait. Tout le monde, même les guerriers le savaient. Burner était tout à fait au courant, son temps serait bientôt levé. Aucun guerrier n'a jamais dépassé l'âge de 18 ans.

Steve(Burner) Drane| Burner is a a stocky 15 year old. With thick arms and a muscular body. He has a bit of chin stubble. mostly due to the lack of a razor. Although it gives him the "I don't give a crap" vibe. Burner's face is what one might describe as "Superman". Due to it's sharp features, and thick chin, and cheek bones. His hair is a sandy blonde, and his skin is a nice tan. His eyes are a calming grey. Old looking compared to the rest of his rather rebellious appearance. He wears a dark green shirt, with sleeves that have been burned off. It's a miracle when he is wearing a shirt. Because mostly he just burns it off with his temper. He wears a pair of camo pants, and heavy brown boots. As well as his dog tags. He uses only his hands and powers in a fight. Although he is known to carry around a heavy duty knife in his boot. He is your typical fire bending freak. Hot temper, loud mouth, and stubborn attitude. At least he's not aggressive... much...|fire manipulation Joice Fairland|Joice is a smaller girl, but only 13. only about 5'2. She is very bony, and frail. Most look at her, and their first thought is a tea cup. Her appearance is betraying the idea that she has the abilitiy to whield earth. Her hair is short, a pixie cut that clings close to her head. Through her black hair, streaks of green follow in various shades. She has pale skin, and soft ash colored lips. She wears the standard camo pants. And a light brown shirt, along with her set of dog tags. She has an extra set of dog tags on her necklace. Dog tags that once belonged to her brother. Joice is not standardly put out into the field. Although at times she has been forced to. Most of the time she is in the infirmary. Training to be a army nurse. Her weapon of choice is a small pistol. Mostly because her earth abilities are enough to help her out. She is calm, and kind. With a sweet smile and gleaming green eyes. She never loses her temper. Infact, she doesn't really have one. If someone gets mad at her, or pushes her around, she'll just shut down. Not sobbing, but kind of fade away, and not be there in her mind. She often has nightmares of her brothers, Bracken Fairland, death.|earth manipulation

Nadia était, comme d'habitude, dans un état de transe de prière. Ses exercices étaient toujours méticuleux; telle était la façon dont son dieu l'exigeait. Alors qu'elle courait à un rythme intense, elle exprimait un chant respirant. Alors qu'elle s'arrêtait, Nadia a fait une dernière étape avant de s'asseoir à cheval sur le sol et d'aller dans la méditation normale après l'entraînement. Ce n'était qu'une partie de son observance quotidienne; et Nadia était plus que heureuse d'observer les locataires. Elle doit toujours être prête.

Name: Nadia Dunn looks: Nadia has light blonde hair and green eyes. Her skin is light. The most notible trait is her unusual height, standing tall at 6'3" and posessing an imposing, very athletic build due to her training. Nadia does not dress very flashy or bright during her non fighting times, prefering simple neutral hoodies and sweatpants. When fighting though, Nadia will wear a bright red armband to try and catch attentions so that she may get the maximum amount of kills. Personality: Nadia is fueled by a religious fanatacism for war and battle. It is likely that her religion, which sees every war as holy Md every battle as sacred, was likely constructed as an experimental "X-Factor" to possibally put her above all else. This furvor is frightening at least, with Nadia deriving holy ecstacy from every fight and every kill she makes being a kind of sacrifice to god. This carries onto her behaviors outside of battle, with Nadia showing no fear of death, seeing it as a form of honor, and expecting the same fighting spirit from her companions. Her near all consuming desire for conflict makes her dificult to be around, always ploting and formenting chaos among others. Such is her way. Weapons: Several combat knives, a sharpened lead pipe, a few handguns, various sharp pieces of metal Bio: Nadia was born in what would become the East States. Her family was "normal" in every sense that an american family would be, a working class irish descended people, two children, Nadia and her brother. Ironically, they were never very religious, only visiting the local catholic church on holidays. Nadia was abducted and sent to training, where they small girl would be conditioned into a religious fanatic and bloodthirsty warrior. Family: Nadia is the only surviving member of her branch of the Dunn family. Power: Magnetism control- Nadia is able to induce magnetism of molecules, both in herself and in other objects caught in her magnetic field.

(S'il vous plaît, mentionnez-moi donc je sais quand vous postez X3) Burner a levé les poids une dernière fois. Les reposer sur les crochets. Il s'est levé et a commencé à remettre les poids à leur juste place. Il étendit ses bras, ses muscles épais fléchissant sous la peau bronzée. Joyce s'est arrêtée au bord de la piste. Respirant lourdement. Sa poitrine était pleine de souffles de bronzage. Et son corps dégoulinait de sueurs chaudes. Elle a doucement incliné la tête en arrière. Fermant les yeux comme un vent frais embrassa lentement son petit cadre.

Steve(Burner) Drane| Burner is a a stocky 15 year old. With thick arms and a muscular body. He has a bit of chin stubble. mostly due to the lack of a razor. Although it gives him the "I don't give a crap" vibe. Burner's face is what one might describe as "Superman". Due to it's sharp features, and thick chin, and cheek bones. His hair is a sandy blonde, and his skin is a nice tan. His eyes are a calming grey. Old looking compared to the rest of his rather rebellious appearance. He wears a dark green shirt, with sleeves that have been burned off. It's a miracle when he is wearing a shirt. Because mostly he just burns it off with his temper. He wears a pair of camo pants, and heavy brown boots. As well as his dog tags. He uses only his hands and powers in a fight. Although he is known to carry around a heavy duty knife in his boot. He is your typical fire bending freak. Hot temper, loud mouth, and stubborn attitude. At least he's not aggressive... much...|fire manipulation Joice Fairland|Joice is a smaller girl, but only 13. only about 5'2. She is very bony, and frail. Most look at her, and their first thought is a tea cup. Her appearance is betraying the idea that she has the abilitiy to whield earth. Her hair is short, a pixie cut that clings close to her head. Through her black hair, streaks of green follow in various shades. She has pale skin, and soft ash colored lips. She wears the standard camo pants. And a light brown shirt, along with her set of dog tags. She has an extra set of dog tags on her necklace. Dog tags that once belonged to her brother. Joice is not standardly put out into the field. Although at times she has been forced to. Most of the time she is in the infirmary. Training to be a army nurse. Her weapon of choice is a small pistol. Mostly because her earth abilities are enough to help her out. She is calm, and kind. With a sweet smile and gleaming green eyes. She never loses her temper. Infact, she doesn't really have one. If someone gets mad at her, or pushes her around, she'll just shut down. Not sobbing, but kind of fade away, and not be there in her mind. She often has nightmares of her brothers, Bracken Fairland, death.|earth manipulation

Nadia s'est levée de sa méditation et a parlé. -- Alors, vous deux, vous sentez-vous prêts pour ce que nous allons dans? Nadia était ravie comme elle pouvait l'être. Même si elle était tuée à son arrivée, son propre sacrifice serait honoré. Bientôt tous les ennemis connaîtraient la colère de Dieu. Nadia essuya la sueur de son visage et respira fort pendant qu'elle attendait les réponses de Burner et Joyce

Name: Nadia Dunn looks: Nadia has light blonde hair and green eyes. Her skin is light. The most notible trait is her unusual height, standing tall at 6'3" and posessing an imposing, very athletic build due to her training. Nadia does not dress very flashy or bright during her non fighting times, prefering simple neutral hoodies and sweatpants. When fighting though, Nadia will wear a bright red armband to try and catch attentions so that she may get the maximum amount of kills. Personality: Nadia is fueled by a religious fanatacism for war and battle. It is likely that her religion, which sees every war as holy Md every battle as sacred, was likely constructed as an experimental "X-Factor" to possibally put her above all else. This furvor is frightening at least, with Nadia deriving holy ecstacy from every fight and every kill she makes being a kind of sacrifice to god. This carries onto her behaviors outside of battle, with Nadia showing no fear of death, seeing it as a form of honor, and expecting the same fighting spirit from her companions. Her near all consuming desire for conflict makes her dificult to be around, always ploting and formenting chaos among others. Such is her way. Weapons: Several combat knives, a sharpened lead pipe, a few handguns, various sharp pieces of metal Bio: Nadia was born in what would become the East States. Her family was "normal" in every sense that an american family would be, a working class irish descended people, two children, Nadia and her brother. Ironically, they were never very religious, only visiting the local catholic church on holidays. Nadia was abducted and sent to training, where they small girl would be conditioned into a religious fanatic and bloodthirsty warrior. Family: Nadia is the only surviving member of her branch of the Dunn family. Power: Magnetism control- Nadia is able to induce magnetism of molecules, both in herself and in other objects caught in her magnetic field.

(merciX3) Burner a croisé ses bras au-dessus de sa poitrine. Il grince largement. « J'ai hâte de me battre pour mon pays », a-t-il simplement expliqué. Il s'était porté volontaire pour aller avec les soldats quand ils sont venus pour lui. Depuis qu'il était jeune, il voulait se battre. C'était dans son sang, dans son cœur. Joice secoua la tête doucement, regardant vers le haut des nuages pour une seconde de vœux. "La guerre n'est jamais une bonne chose." Elle expliqua tranquillement en regardant ses deux amis aux yeux verts. Elle était la seule à avoir été sur le champ de bataille. Elle avait vu la nature affreuse de la guerre. Elle savait que ça n'avait pas de gloire. Seulement la douleur.

Steve(Burner) Drane| Burner is a a stocky 15 year old. With thick arms and a muscular body. He has a bit of chin stubble. mostly due to the lack of a razor. Although it gives him the "I don't give a crap" vibe. Burner's face is what one might describe as "Superman". Due to it's sharp features, and thick chin, and cheek bones. His hair is a sandy blonde, and his skin is a nice tan. His eyes are a calming grey. Old looking compared to the rest of his rather rebellious appearance. He wears a dark green shirt, with sleeves that have been burned off. It's a miracle when he is wearing a shirt. Because mostly he just burns it off with his temper. He wears a pair of camo pants, and heavy brown boots. As well as his dog tags. He uses only his hands and powers in a fight. Although he is known to carry around a heavy duty knife in his boot. He is your typical fire bending freak. Hot temper, loud mouth, and stubborn attitude. At least he's not aggressive... much...|fire manipulation Joice Fairland|Joice is a smaller girl, but only 13. only about 5'2. She is very bony, and frail. Most look at her, and their first thought is a tea cup. Her appearance is betraying the idea that she has the abilitiy to whield earth. Her hair is short, a pixie cut that clings close to her head. Through her black hair, streaks of green follow in various shades. She has pale skin, and soft ash colored lips. She wears the standard camo pants. And a light brown shirt, along with her set of dog tags. She has an extra set of dog tags on her necklace. Dog tags that once belonged to her brother. Joice is not standardly put out into the field. Although at times she has been forced to. Most of the time she is in the infirmary. Training to be a army nurse. Her weapon of choice is a small pistol. Mostly because her earth abilities are enough to help her out. She is calm, and kind. With a sweet smile and gleaming green eyes. She never loses her temper. Infact, she doesn't really have one. If someone gets mad at her, or pushes her around, she'll just shut down. Not sobbing, but kind of fade away, and not be there in her mind. She often has nightmares of her brothers, Bracken Fairland, death.|earth manipulation

Nadia s'est hissé à l'un et à l'autre du ml. Elle ne s'occupait ni de politique ni de gain personnel; seulement pour servir sa place et répandre du sang. « Alors, quand sommes-nous censés partir et voir l'action? » Nadia a tapé sa nourriture et s'est fêlée tout en parlant, même après tant d'années de pousser son corps à l'extrême absolue, ça lui a encore fait mal de trop se fatiguer. Mais c'était au nom de Dieu.

Name: Nadia Dunn looks: Nadia has light blonde hair and green eyes. Her skin is light. The most notible trait is her unusual height, standing tall at 6'3" and posessing an imposing, very athletic build due to her training. Nadia does not dress very flashy or bright during her non fighting times, prefering simple neutral hoodies and sweatpants. When fighting though, Nadia will wear a bright red armband to try and catch attentions so that she may get the maximum amount of kills. Personality: Nadia is fueled by a religious fanatacism for war and battle. It is likely that her religion, which sees every war as holy Md every battle as sacred, was likely constructed as an experimental "X-Factor" to possibally put her above all else. This furvor is frightening at least, with Nadia deriving holy ecstacy from every fight and every kill she makes being a kind of sacrifice to god. This carries onto her behaviors outside of battle, with Nadia showing no fear of death, seeing it as a form of honor, and expecting the same fighting spirit from her companions. Her near all consuming desire for conflict makes her dificult to be around, always ploting and formenting chaos among others. Such is her way. Weapons: Several combat knives, a sharpened lead pipe, a few handguns, various sharp pieces of metal Bio: Nadia was born in what would become the East States. Her family was "normal" in every sense that an american family would be, a working class irish descended people, two children, Nadia and her brother. Ironically, they were never very religious, only visiting the local catholic church on holidays. Nadia was abducted and sent to training, where they small girl would be conditioned into a religious fanatic and bloodthirsty warrior. Family: Nadia is the only surviving member of her branch of the Dunn family. Power: Magnetism control- Nadia is able to induce magnetism of molecules, both in herself and in other objects caught in her magnetic field.

dans deux jours. 12 heures précises. Burner dit, sa voix portant son son de ses désirs de servir est pays dans la chaleur de la bataille. Cependant, Joice n'était pas si à l'aise avec ce sujet. Elle l'a avalé comme une pierre dure. Couloir entre eux avec des yeux verts remplis d'émotions nerveuses. "Nous devrions aller dîner avant la fermeture de la cafétéria pour ce soir" dit-elle rapidement dans l'espoir de détourner la conversation.

Steve(Burner) Drane| Burner is a a stocky 15 year old. With thick arms and a muscular body. He has a bit of chin stubble. mostly due to the lack of a razor. Although it gives him the "I don't give a crap" vibe. Burner's face is what one might describe as "Superman". Due to it's sharp features, and thick chin, and cheek bones. His hair is a sandy blonde, and his skin is a nice tan. His eyes are a calming grey. Old looking compared to the rest of his rather rebellious appearance. He wears a dark green shirt, with sleeves that have been burned off. It's a miracle when he is wearing a shirt. Because mostly he just burns it off with his temper. He wears a pair of camo pants, and heavy brown boots. As well as his dog tags. He uses only his hands and powers in a fight. Although he is known to carry around a heavy duty knife in his boot. He is your typical fire bending freak. Hot temper, loud mouth, and stubborn attitude. At least he's not aggressive... much...|fire manipulation Joice Fairland|Joice is a smaller girl, but only 13. only about 5'2. She is very bony, and frail. Most look at her, and their first thought is a tea cup. Her appearance is betraying the idea that she has the abilitiy to whield earth. Her hair is short, a pixie cut that clings close to her head. Through her black hair, streaks of green follow in various shades. She has pale skin, and soft ash colored lips. She wears the standard camo pants. And a light brown shirt, along with her set of dog tags. She has an extra set of dog tags on her necklace. Dog tags that once belonged to her brother. Joice is not standardly put out into the field. Although at times she has been forced to. Most of the time she is in the infirmary. Training to be a army nurse. Her weapon of choice is a small pistol. Mostly because her earth abilities are enough to help her out. She is calm, and kind. With a sweet smile and gleaming green eyes. She never loses her temper. Infact, she doesn't really have one. If someone gets mad at her, or pushes her around, she'll just shut down. Not sobbing, but kind of fade away, and not be there in her mind. She often has nightmares of her brothers, Bracken Fairland, death.|earth manipulation

Chapitre 1 : L'évasion Vous êtes dans une cellule de prison elle est blanche et faite juste pour vous. Vos pouvoirs ne fonctionnent pas peu importe ce que vous essayez et n'avez jamais mais vous essayez quand même. Ce que vous ne savez pas, c'est que vous avez été surveillé. Par qui, vous ne savez pas encore, mais il sera révolté. Maintenant, tout ce que vous pouvez faire est de vous promener et d'exercer jusqu'à ce que vous trouviez une sortie. Un jour, lorsque votre nourriture est livrée à travers l'un des carrés, vous n'obtenez qu'une enveloppe avec un PDA petit et mince. L'informatique a un bouton sur le côté et une fois que vous appuyez dessus, votre pièce entière devient noire et le PDA s'allume. C'est la seule lumière dans la pièce qu'une image apaise un soleil. Puis après quelques secondes, une voix douce vieillit commence à parler. "Bonjour, comment allez-vous? Je m'en fiche maintenant. Mon nom est..lets aller avec M. Sinister. Et je suis maintenant votre angle gardien, et j'ai une proposition pour vous. Mais d'abord, laissez-moi vous en dire un peu plus sur moi-même. Je suis un Rogue à la retraite, oui à la retraite, j'ai vécu longtemps et plein comme et ne regrette rien de tout cela. Je suis un célèbre Rogue et vous avez probablement entendu parler de moi, mais pour l'instant je suis juste le vieux M. Sinister. J'ai regardé le monde depuis ma charmante maison et j'ai été très déçu par les bruits d'aujourd'hui. Vous êtes toute la semaine et tout de même, comme un tas de chiens sauvages qui ont été domptés par le Vigil et ARGO. Je veux dire que tu es ici, dans une cellule, combien de temps dois-je dire de plus. Maintenant, je voudrais attirer l'attention sur le problème majeur d'aujourd'hui, vous ne comprenez pas le pouvoir en nombres, mais je suis ici pour le corriger. Je vous ai choisis parmi d'autres comme les plus brillants et les meilleurs du lot. Vous avez entre autres certaines qualités qui seront nécessaires pour aider à mouler et à créer mon rêve ; une organisation qui rivalise avec le pouvoir de Vigil et ARGO mis ensemble. Je sais que j'ai l'air fou, pourquoi un tas de fibres, de tueurs et de voleurs travaillent ensemble? Parce que tu n'as pas d'autre choix. Pensez-y, que faire si vous aviez un groupe à appeler quand vous avez besoin d'une caution, ou quand vous planifiez un grand braquage. Maintenant que j'ai planté ces pensées dans votre tête, je vais avoir besoin de savoir que vous allez m'aider. Si vous êtes d'accord, appuyez sur votre pouce à l'écran indiqué si vous ne le faites pas, l'écran sera vide et votre chambre s'allumera. Vous avez 5 secondes." Ceux d'entre vous qui ont appuyé sur le bouton seront accueillis par un lay out de la prison accompagné d'une voix. "Grand tu as décidé de rester, et ceux qui n'ont pas manqué. Jusqu'aux affaires, la prison utilise une technologie spéciale qui amortit les pouvoirs et les capacités. Et il est adaptatif, donc il est spécialisé pour chaque individu de les rendre aussi humains et faibles que possible. Maintenant, j'ai temporairement suspendu le signal de votre cellule pour qu'on puisse parler, le PDA donne un signal pour le faire. Dans une heure je vais envoyer une prison de signal large et chaque cellule sera ouverte et éteinte pour cette période. Vous êtes tous actuellement dans le bloc cellulaire A, le cylindre. Maintenant, toutes les cellules sont contre les murs avec un chemin de marche enjambant chaque plancher et un petit chemin se reliant à l'arbre de l'ascenseur au milieu du plancher. Une fois que le signal s'éteindra, la seule chose qui sera fonctionnelle sera que les gardes-robots patrouillent. Maintenant, une fois que vous sortirez ces choses sera votre premier obstacle. Ils sont basés à partir de la conception des gardiens et sont légers rapide et emballer un coup de poing, mais n'essayeront que de soumettre vous ne vous tuez pas. Une fois que vous les avez traversés, faites votre chemin jusqu'à l'arbre. Alors que la prison est en état de fermeture la seule façon d'obtenir l'air entrant ou sortant sera à travers ce puits, ainsi il devient un tube géant de l'air pressurisé monter. Tout ce que vous avez à faire est de sauter dans le courant et de rouler les vents. Une fois que vous aurez atteint le sommet, votre dernier défi se montrera, The WARDEN. C'est un robot qui ne ressemble à aucun autre et qui a plus d'expérience que vous tous réunis. Écoutez mon avertissement, il est le seul à avoir un protocole mortel pour qu'il vous tue sur place. La meilleure chose à faire est de le soumettre en prenant le noyau d'énergie derrière sa plaque thoracique. Si vous pouvez passer ses gadgets et ses compétences, alors vous sortez sera en attente sous la forme d'un bateau au bord du sommet du dôme. Maintenant, ne pensez pas que vous avez tous tout le temps dans le monde, une fois que vous arrivez au sommet, vous aurez seulement environ 30 minutes avant que ARGO et Vigil se pointent alors il n'y a vraiment pas de vous aider. Je vous l'ai dit beaucoup en peu de temps et maintenant vous avez même un temps encore plus court pour préparer, comme 15 minutes, alors considérez ceci votre test pour prouver votre valeur comme un Rogue pour moi, l'un des meilleurs dans le jeu. Si vous acceptez cela, mon plan pour l'avenir, les rôles que vous jouerez, et tout le reste alors donnez votre pouce à nouveau. Oh et encore une chose, ne perdez pas ce PDA avant que je vous dise de le jeter, c'est si vous le gardez. Vous avez cinq secondes. Quelques minutes plus tard, la pièce s'allume, puis repart en noir et les portes s'ouvrent et vous pouvez voir l'arbre de l'ascenseur de votre cellule. Il est temps de sortir d'ici.

Name: Ek'ork Alias: The Founder/Eroric (those who cannot say his name call him Eroric) Age: 345 Gender: Male Species: Descender Personality: Ek'ork is a temperamental man. Most of the others of his species are all very respectful of their prince, but the human soon learn that he is quick to snap at any one. Like any prince when he ask for something he expects it no matter what, or there will be sever consequences. When coming to Earth he did not like their customs and traditions at all and had a problem adjusting. His mind is not one so easily conquered. It is vast, unlike humanity who can only use 5-16% of their brain capacity, his people can use up to 60% and it makes them different. They are numb to most human emotions and he does not quiet understand right and wrong just yet. History: Ek'ork lived as a prince on his home world, it was a dying planet and his people knew that, they understood that it was a dog eat dog world and the royalty had the biggest say in anything. Due to his fathers falling health it was getting close to the crowning ceremony, where the prince eats the father while he dies. In his society the minds of the people are connected by a mind link. Being an all male society, the more dominant males have royal blood in their veins and have better control over the others, acting as the queen bee of the planets hive. While the weaker males have little to know royal blood and are the worker bees. Ek'ork was next in line to take over the crown , which is know as the nexus. The Nexus is the hub for the mental links, which is why the kings get older and older as the years go on. So the previous king will find another 'proper' male and they would grow an egg using both of their genes. This is how Ek'ork came to be, his father (mother) was a warrior and fought in the many different wars waged by his people, while his other father (father/the king) has been ruling for 1000 years. He has just reached maturity and was now fit for the crown and just as he finished eating his father alive and accepting the Nexus, his world puffed out its last breath. Everything was falling apart and now as king Ek'ork had made the decision to leave, grabbing his only reaming father and trusted advisers, he left the little red world and watched it explode. HE could feel the instant deaths of millions of his people and it was a pain he will never forget. They found Earth by accident and thought it was a world easily inhabited. So they landed in secret and soon began to watch the humans before striking. There were only about 250 of his people left and after 5 years of observation they strike. What he did not know was that they had been found out and the humans were ready for him. 3 years of long war later and his population had been dropped down to 65. He called for peace and bought it with advanced technology and money. After the war he bought he and his people their 'humanity' and American Citizenship he took up home in Lochwell. He was, is, and will be an impatient man so he did not really get human customs and traditions until he ate one. This is how his people relay information form other people. They did not even speak English or any other Earth language until he ate his first human. WGUF-What Got You Famous: After the war and a few years of living in Lochwell, Ek'ork was called in by the president for a 'check-up' and followed suit. He went ot the white house and met the previous president, an arrogant man who did very many disrespectful looking things to Ek'ork's POV. Growing enraged by the minute Ek'ork finally snapped and ate the man. The first human he every ate was the president of the united states and he did it in a savage manner. Blood and leftover body parts could be seen throughout the Oval Office. He was apprehended on the spot and sent to ICF for permanent incarceration. His people were not reprimanded though and still run his gang on the outside. Equipment: He has a war suit that he wears during combat. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents:His people are naturally strong in nature, being able to life ten times their weight like ants, they also have their own martial arts system. He was trained by a warrior and bred for combat. His strikes are hard and he can kill anything in 10 different ways or more. He is a hunter and has instincts like one. Due to him having the Nexus his brain usage jumps to 75%. This gives him prime control over his own body. He can control two different things, his density. Making himself as light as a feather, giving him flight, or as heavy and hard as a star, giving him an added punch. Ek'ork can phase through objects as well bye reducing his density to allow him to go through solid objects, or vice versa. Weakness: Ek'ork is a King of his people, this mean a lot. The Nexus is a heavy burden and even though he will not die for many thousands of years (due to low population) Using the Nexus is a great burden and a last resort. After it gets used he needs time to recover from fatigue, duration depending on how long he has been using. He is not bullet proof by any means, only when he is using the Nexus, but during normal combat he can be shot and cut and broken like anyone else. Also his massive structure is a problem in many cases, small confined spaces are not his forte and he sends people do that for him. Secret Hideout: The Mothership of his people is hidden some where in the Pacific ocean, but their base of operations and only access point is in a bar owned by him. Relationships:

Pas plus tôt, la porte a commencé à craquer qu'une voix profonde et joyeuse résonne dans la pièce. -- Enfin, après six longues années, je suis libre! Une paire de mains s'approche de la fissure, la saisit et la pousse le reste du chemin avec une chape de métal. La porte s'ouvrait bien trop lentement pour que ces créatures aiment. Il avait déjà perdu trop de temps enfermé dans ce pathétique donjon humain. Chaque fois qu'il restait, il restait encore un moment séparé de sa reine rayonnante. La figure monstrueuse du général Semyaza avance régalement à travers l'espace ouvert avec un swesh de sa cape. Il marche au bord de la passerelle et plante son pied sur la rampe de sécurité, levant un poing serré triomphalement vers le ciel. "TEMPS POUR CONQUÉRER LA TERRE!"

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

La cellule blanche était parfaitement ennuyeux, parfaitement fougueuse. Il avait besoin de quelque chose à faire, de quelque chose pour occuper son esprit. Les motifs sur les panneaux muraux avaient servi cette fonction pendant peu de temps après qu'il avait été jeté ici, mais maintenant le simple manque de quoi que ce soit s'estompait de sa santé mentale. Encore une fois, peut-être qu'il était déjà en colère? N'avait-il pas décidé de détruire la civilisation et de prendre le monde en main? Ce ne sont pas là les objectifs des hommes les plus raisonnables. Mais non, il a décidé, il n'était pas fou, et s'efforcerait de rester ainsi. Il aurait besoin de son esprit à son sujet si jamais il devait régner. La connaissance, c'est le pouvoir, il a répété mentalement, et la précision, c'est la force. La connaissance, c'est la puissance, la précision, c'est la force. Il s'en tenait à ces choses aussi longtemps qu'il était ici. **** Le premier PDA était intrigant, sinon tout à fait impressionnant. Le "Guardian Angel" a affirmé qu'il avait été choisi personnellement, et pourtant c'était clairement un travail à taille unique, le traitant comme un Rogue qui avait échoué dans sa carrière criminelle, et serait intéressé par un plan maléfique. James Falcon n'était ni l'une ni l'autre de ces choses, et quiconque avait pris le moins d'ennuis pour le rechercher le saurait. Bien sûr, ils seraient également ignorants de son récent changement de cœur et de résolution pour devenir ce que beaucoup appelleraient un supervillain. Il était arrivé à cette conclusion ici, dans cette cellule, sans personne d'autre. Néanmoins, il a appuyé sur le bouton rapidement. Toute occasion de sortir de sa cellule était la bienvenue, et si elle venait de quelqu'un qui n'avait aucune idée de ce qu'il était ou de ce qu'il deviendrait, alors qu'il en soit ainsi. Le deuxième message de la PDA était beaucoup plus à son goût. Ce "Monsieur Sinister" a peut-être sauté en cherchant ses bienfaiteurs, mais James pourrait certainement respecter les capacités de l'homme s'il était vraiment capable d'accomplir une telle chose. Il vaudrait la peine de garder le PDA et d'en apprendre plus sur cette personne et ses objectifs, même si leurs chemins doivent éventuellement se séparer. Il pourrait les utiliser pour recueillir des ressources et de l'expérience, et peut-être gagner des alliés alors qu'il combattait vers son objectif. Il tapota de nouveau, puis s'assit avec son dos au mur et ses jambes s'étiraient devant lui. Il aurait besoin d'éclaircir sa tête et de faire un plan, comme il le pouvait, avant de lancer sa carrière de voyou. Ce devait être le premier grand acte de sa nouvelle vie, et il le saisirait de ses deux mains. Il a compté les secondes comme le temps s'est glissé.

Name: James Edward Falcon Allias: Falcon Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Human Powers: Falcon can cause objects around him to change size, growing or shrinking into perfect scale replicas of themselves without changing density. A secondary ability allows him to teleport to anywhere he can see. Appearance: Falcon has narrow grey eyes set above a prominent nose and a slim, clean-shaven face. He keeps his dark hair short, and was typically known to go around in a smartly-tailored business suit and tie. His torso is solidly built though not overly muscular, and his long legs take him to a height of 190 centimetres. (Picture to come) History: James Falcon came into his abilities as a young man and, seeing that his powers were less well suited to flying though the skyline fighting criminals, he instead entered the world of business. His talent for growth and long-term strategic thinking saw him rise to prominence at a young age. Because of his belief that superbeings should use their abilities to make the world better, he put much of his wealth funding altruistic projects. He put money into refugee camps and disaster relief, and funded drug research and subsidies where he felt that the government was falling short. As time passed and his business empire grew, his philanthropy also branched out to supporting political campaigns of candidates he felt had good priorities, then to supporting the cases of criminals whose actions he believed were justified, such as those who used dubious methods to expose corruption or exploitation. It was when he was found to be sheltering two of these men in his mansion while police were searching for them that he himself was arrested for obstructing the course of justice and trumped up charges related to his use of financial resources to exert undue influence on politics. James did not resist his arrest and agreed to stand trial, confident in his assertions that the good he did for the world far outweighed the bad and that others would see that and overlook his breaking the letter of the law for upholding its spirit. He was dead wrong. A number of his political and business rivals piled in on the case, pushing for as harsh a sentence as possible, and he was sent to prison for five years. As a regular prison would be unable to hold him and no suitable facility was near to hand, he was extradited and sent to a secure facility designed to hold the most hardened violent supervillains, the ICF. Horrified and insulted by this turn of events, he brooded on his anger and frustration, and so the supervillain Falcon was born. The people who had put him here, he decided, were incompetent fools. He had spent a long time plugging holes in a broken system with his own hard work and donations, but to truly help, much more would be required. The whole system needed to be broken down and rebuilt from the ground up, and the people in charge needed to know what they were doing and be able to see it through. People like Falcon. This would be his new mission in life, and arriving in jail, he had plenty of time to plan. Personality: James Falcon is not an impulsive man. Rather, in all things he prefers a cautious, calculating, strategic approach. To him, knowledge is power and the way to get what one wants is by careful planning and precise execution. He prefers his own company when ruminating on these things and reacts irritably to distraction, though he will happily share his ideas and talk at length at more appropriate times. He is possessed of great determination and drive to reach his goals, and, facilitated by his approach above, has usually been successful. He truly does want to make the world a better place, but this ambition has been twisted by his anger and frustration about the ineffectiveness of government at achieving meaningful changes. He has become proud, vengeful and ruthless. Strengths: Falcon’s most formidable asset is his strong intellect, which allows him to use his abilities to full effect in a number of situations. This is backed up by his sharp senses and good reflexes. Weaknesses: Falcon’s teleportation ability only enables him to move within his line of sight, which limits its usefulness when it’s dark or his vision is otherwise obscured. He can take one other person with him or an equivalent amount of material, but no more. His size altering powers do not work on himself or any other humans. He dislikes being thrust into situations without warning, as his best strength comes from planning ahead and being able to control his environment. Secret Hideout: As mentioned above, Falcon is not from Lochwell City, so he has no current base in the city. What he does have, however, is his emergency Swiss bank account, which he started when he first entered business and has been feeding ever since in case some unforeseen disaster should make the rest of his fortune inaccessible. Equipment: For now, a prison jumpsuit. But just you wait until he can get out and get creative! Relationships: James has immense respect for The Chief, a superhero from his hometown who doesn’t just catch criminals, but spends just as much time using his abilities to be helpful to law-abiding people. This is supering done right, in his opinion. “Superbeings are not bound by the laws of men. We are born with the power to break the laws of nature itself, and are bound to step in and use that power when ordinary systems fail to protect mankind. I spent years trying to prop up the current system and plug its gaps with my powers, never realising that what it was beyond all hope of repair. Similarly, I reject my sentence under your legal code and instead answer to a higher moral law. It now demands that I step in not to uphold civilisation, but to destroy it. I will burn everything down to the bedrock and start over, This time, I will be in charge and I will see things done right.”

Drongos, une autre voix a dit que la porte s'ouvrait lentement. Karate Bastard avait à peine remarqué ses mois d'incarcération, passant la majorité de son temps dans la méditation. Les colliers et les bracelets qu'ils avaient giflés le pesaient, l'empêchaient d'exercer et de ressentir tous les bienfaits de la puissance en lui. Mais KB n'avait pas été préparé pour son évasion. Jusqu'à présent, son plan était d'attendre un garde humain, puis d'arracher le visage de l'homme et de le porter comme un masque afin de tromper la sécurité et de réparer son départ. Mais une agence de l'extérieur l'a arrêté? Pas aussi dramatique, mais ça le ferait. Il n'aimerait pas croire qu'il accepte la charité, mais en même temps, "jamais regarder un cheval cadeau dans la bouche." Une phrase que Hiram Walker aimait beaucoup. L'homme au Texas qui lui avait appris à se battre avec un couteau Bowie, avant que Keith ne prenne la liberté de lui écraser le crâne. C'est le bon temps. Comme les nullificateurs échouaient, KB sentit la force remonter dans ses membres. C'est du sang dur, c'est ça. C'est l'heure de revenir dans le swing des choses, pas de deux façons à ce sujet. Sans perdre une seconde, Karate Bastard a arraché le dessus orange de sa combinaison de prison, exposant son physique bien formé à l'air froid de la prison sous-marine alors qu'il s'élançait vers l'avant dans le couloir. Le silence normal du couloir de la prison a été brisé par les sons du kata étendu de Keith alors qu'il se préparait à la bataille. Partie de gymnastique élaborée, partie calisthénique, partie giflant ses propres coudes et genoux, la plupart du temps beaucoup de cris à haut point, KB a travaillé les clins d'oeil avant d'assumer une position de combat. "Oui, les gars, on va faire ça!" Il a crié à vide d'air.

Name: Keith Blackwell Alias: Karate Bastard Age: 36 Gender: Male Species: Human Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him. History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program. But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha. The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated. Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate. From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave. Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated. In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly. Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him. Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country. Relationships: None.

Le temps s'est écoulé. Ça n'avait pas d'importance. Depuis combien de temps Nihil était-il coincé ici? Ça aurait pu être quelques jours, ça aurait pu être des années. Elle s'en foutait. Il n'y avait pas de jour ou de nuit ici- c'était toujours la même chose pour elle. Assieds-toi. En vigueur. Elle a mangé quand la nourriture est venue. Elle n'a rien fait d'autre. L'existence était tout ce qu'il y avait. Pour un observateur de sa cellule, elle pourrait sembler être un tableau. Elle n'a jamais bougé, elle ne semblait même pas respirer. L'image d'une personne vaincue. À l'extérieur, elle n'est apparue que morte. À l'intérieur, les mêmes mots résonnaient dans sa tête : Tuer Dalton. Que la seule pensée qui l'habitait, la seule raison pour laquelle elle subsistait. Est-ce qu'elle est devenue folle? C'était une question inutile. Elle n'a jamais été saine d'esprit. Elle était assise contre le mur, la tête baissée tourné, quand quelque chose est passé par la porte. C'était sa nourriture... non, autre chose. Une enveloppe. Elle aurait pu rester assise là, continuer à exister sans raison. Elle le voulait sûrement. Mais un souvenir lui est revenu. Elle était déjà venue ici, n'est-ce pas? Non, un endroit comme ça. Et c'était déjà arrivé. Elle l'avait encore... elle ne voulait pas qu'ils le prennent. Ils lui ont tant permis. La note, pressée contre sa poitrine, placée solidement sous son soutien-gorge. Elle s'est levée de son siège, faisant des pas en avant vers l'enveloppe. Elle a ramassé le colis, il y avait du poids. Pas un bout de papier. Elle a ouvert le contenant, en en retirant un PDA. Des ordres? Elle s'est ébranlée la tête. Vieilles habitudes. Bien sûr que non. Je ne suis plus là. Le PDA a soudainement pris vie quand la pièce est morte. Le dispositif était la seule illumination restante. Et puis une voix est passée. Elle a écouté patiemment. Ils n'étaient pas des ordres du général, mais ils auraient pu aussi bien l'être. Le même ton commandant, la même attente d'être suivi. Elle détestait ça. Elle aurait frappé non. Elle aurait rejeté l'appareil, l'aurait jeté contre le mur, aurait accepté la mort. Elle s'en foutait. Elle ne l'a toujours pas fait. Mais elle s'est souvenue de sa haine, de sa rage et de sa nécessité de tuer le général Dalton Brook. Elle ne pouvait pas accepter la mort. Elle a soupiré, en projetant les pouces vers le haut. C'est l'heure de partir, je suppose. La voix parlait à nouveau. Elle écoutait encore patiemment. Vous pensiez qu'elle l'ignorerait par apathie? Elle était en effet apathique, mais elle a été faite pour suivre les ordres. Au fur et à mesure que l'écran diminuait, elle a glissé l'appareil dans sa poche arrière. Les portes ont commencé à s'ouvrir. Elle sentait la force s'infiltrer dans elle. Elle sentait un pouvoir qu'elle n'avait pas ressenti depuis un certain temps. Alors que la porte se séparait lentement, elle s'étendit. Ses membres ont souffert, n'ayant pas bougé depuis un certain temps. Enfin, l'étendue de l'installation a été révélée. Elle a pris ses environs. Cinq robots. Le sentier mène directement au 'tunnel à vent'. Autour de ses autres cellules s'ouvraient, certains de leurs captifs se révélaient déjà. Elle a analysé ses nouveaux 'alliés'. La première était une créature étrange, qui semblait être plus proche d'une tromperie grotesque d'un extraterrestre qu'un humain. Il est sorti de la cellule avec une fureur, agitant son poing et criant sur la conquête de la Terre. Comme c'est ennuyeux. Le suivant à venir était Human. Homme. Il criait aussi des expletives et encourageait le groupe à bouger, en supposant une pose ridicule d'arts martiaux. Ils sont tous les deux ennuyeux. Je regrette déjà de partir. Le reste d'entre eux sortaient encore de leurs cellules. Elle soupirait. Elle n'aurait pas de patience pour leur mise en scène. Elle était prête pour l'action. Directement à l'extérieur de sa cellule était un garde robot, prêt à affronter les évasions. Elle s'est mise au combat et s'est mise à bas contre le sol. Soudain, elle se précipita, sortant des pièces confinées vers le robot. Elle est apparue comme un flou pour les autres. Il était assez facile de l'expédier. Elle n'était pas exceptionnellement forte, mais elle avait beaucoup d'élan, se déplaçant exceptionnellement vite. La force de son poing se déplaçant à la vitesse qu'il avait été suffisant pour frapper une grosse bosse dans le « visage » du robot, perturber son circuit interne et le faire tomber au sol. Comme elle a pris contact avec le sol, il y avait une douleur distincte dans son poing. Elle l'a envoyé contre de l'acier solide, bien sûr que ça faisait mal. Mais elle avait été entraînée à l'ignorer. Elle l'a à peine senti. Elle se dirige vers la machine maintenant handicapée. Il ne tenait pas d'arme. Elle était déçue. Elle s'est retournée vers les autres cellules, son visage indiquant qu'elle était quelque peu impatiente.

Emma Summers | Nihil Age: 29 Gender: Female Species: Human History: In the year 1986 a new kind of weapon was bred in the wind-swept desert of Afghanistan. The pressure of the Cold War has been on a steady rise, and it soon exploded in conflict. The Russian invasion of Afghanistan created a new warzone for the US to fight a proxy war against communism. Naturally they sided against Russia, supporting the Afghani Mujahideen. This war served as the backdrop of a highly illegal and highly unethical experiment conducted in the dark depths of the US Military-Industrial Complex by a secret group of researchers, unknown to all but a very select number of US Government officials. The question was simple: How does one create the perfect soldier? The first solution was technological: A serum that greatly increased the physical capabilities of a solider, additionally bestowing them with a number of 'super powers' that would aid them in their job. The second was much darker. In science there is an experiment that is considered taboo. Dubbed "The Forbidden Experiment". What would happen to someone if they were deprived of exposure to language of any sort? The researchers designed an evocative experiment: A child deprived of human contact. Taught by machines. Gradually exposed to the world through video and picture. Kept in peak physical condition. Raised by technology to be a soldier that had no regard for human life or their own life, instilled with unflinching obedience. Combined with their newly invented 'super-serum' this child was to be the ultimate soldier. The child had no name, but the researchers gave her a nickname: Nihil. A Latin word best described as meaning 'the absence of anything'. Nothingness. It was at the age of twelve that Nihil was given her first mission. The Soviet–Afghan War was already over, but the Cold War was still on and researchers were eager to see the fruits of their labor. An operation was called by the general who was privy to the details of the experiment, buried in layers of deniability. The mission was simple: Capture a Soviet outpost. It was a task for a group of highly trained soldiers. Instead a little girl was sent in. The mission, needless to say, was a success. Nihil proved to be highly capable in combat, and it seemed that all the programming and experimenting had indeed created the perfect soldier. As time went on the US's 'secret soldier' went on more missions, always proving successful against the most unlikely of odds. Every time it was the same: She'd receive her orders, be dropped into the hot zone, carry out her mission, exfiltrate, and then return to isolation, or to the training room connected to her cell, but she still always never saw a single person. The only times she had human contact was through the scope of a rifle. The only voices she heard where the screams of her targets. But something had to give, the shroud of isolation couldn't be kept forever. There was one variable that the researcher's couldn't control: Themselves. They weren't bad people... or maybe they were, but they felt remorse. Some of them were unable to handle the kind of research they were doing. Some were entirely uncaring, seeing Nihil as nothing more than a subject. But almost all of them were quelled by their paycheck. Almost. One of them faced the ultimate struggle: Love. One of the researchers who spent countless hours observing Nihil came to feel a strange paternal affection for the girl who he had twisted into a soldier. It happened slowly, but it happened nonetheless. One day Nihil was sitting in her cell, as she always had, when something unexpected came through the slit in the door that had always delivered only food: A flower, and a note. The clean, white, sterile, surgical cell, devoid of anything but the basic necessities of life and a computer screen through which she had been educated had suddenly been invaded by a small speck of color. The facility rose in a panic. Their carefully controlled experiment had suddenly been thrown askew. The never anticipated one of their own going so far in mutiny. Nihil picked up the note, felt the paper. The words which she had only ever seen etched into a computer screen. Researchers scrambled. She couldn't read it, they couldn't let her. It would likely destroy their work. As the mutinous researcher had been carried away, the door to Nihil's cell opened and for the first time she had seen a face on the other side of it. A stern face, a human face, reaching for the note. Suddenly her world had been thrown into question. Thoughts that never came to her, question that she had never come to ask. Who was she? Who were they? What are they? Who are the people she killed? Why did she exist? Something snapped inside her. She understood that they did something wrong to her, the note made it clear. The girl easily overpowered the researcher, slamming his face against the wall and leaving a bloody smear. Their experiment was over. How could it succeed? No one can stem the very basis of human nature. They had reached too far. The girl they bred for war, of course, had no problem escaping from their confines after that. What was once a sterile research lab was sullied by blood. No one in the research staff, not one of the guards, nor one of the numerous other unholy experiments, not one of the janitors, or the maintenance workers, or the soldiers lived. They had created a monster. An unfeeling monster that wanted nothing more than to feel. As she emerged from the depths of the facility she emerged into a unknown environment. She had only ever known desert and mountains and the lab. This place was different. The mountains reached taller, scraping against the sky above. The ground was not sand, but concrete. Around her stood none of the 'Soviets' she had been taught were the enemy. Instead she was surrounded by people. Unfamiliar people. Numerous people, countless people. They stared at her: A teenage girl soaked in blood, carrying a rifle, clothing tattered. One of them called the police. Nihil was already gone, running away into a world she knew very little about. Soon after that she found herself taken back into the fold of the US Military. Escaping wouldn't be that easy. It had been something they had prepared for. They could track her, of course. But things were different as she returned. She came to learn the name of the general in charge of the experiment: Brook. General Dalton Brook. He, like many of the researchers, came to see that the experiment was a mistake, so he extended an offer to reintegrate her into society with support from to government. The price was simple: Nihil's secrecy. No one would know where she came from. She wanted to know what life was like outside of confinement. She agreed. She was soon re-educated, placed into an apartment, taught how to live like a 'normal' person. They gave her money. They gave her freedom. They gave her a name, Emma. They even let her join the VA. She was technically still a veteran, after all. But it wasn't enough for her. How could it be? She soon came to recognize what they took from her. What she could never get back. She was still a warrior, no matter what they did. She still couldn't feel like any other person. She still couldn't know what it was like to really be normal. So she disappeared, again. This time she made sure they couldn't follow. She used her powers to escape, again, and never looked back. She also promised herself one thing: She would exact revenge upon General Dalton Brook. After that she slipped into the criminal underworld. By day she kept on her mask: The mask of a normal person, pretending to feel the emotions she could never feel. By night she was a rouge. Her powers made her a natural fit. She still only knew how to be a soldier. Assassination was her trade. She still felt nothing when she took a life. She felt no remorse. She wanted to hurt the people who hurt her and the people who didn't hurt her. She wouldn't be satisfied until everyone bled. But one thing still kept her sane. One thing kept her from being a psychopath: The memory of the flower and the note she had received from the one person who had loved her. The note she still kept with her. The note no one else would ever see. Part of her wanted to hurt, but part of her wanted to feel. Part of her wanted to discover the emotions she never knew. As the years went on she felt her life become meaningless. She only lived to live. The feeling still wasn't there. She came to realize he joy that she once thought she felt when she killed was false, engineered by the researchers. She still wanted to kill Dalton Brook, but it seemed unattainable. He was half a world away. She felt trapped. And then one day during her 'late night activities' she was caught by a hero. Captain Power. She could've escaped. It would've been easy with her powers. But she gave up. She let herself get caught. He was confused, but took her in. And that was it. She was sent to prison, buried behind layers of security designed to prevent her escape. She couldn't be stopped. Ironically her powers made escape quite easy for her. But she didn't care. It was just like old times. "I can leave whenever I want." Personality: Nihil is devoid of emotion. She strives for it, but it's always out of reach. She's only felt emotion twice: Hatred for the people who authorized the experiments conducted on her, and a small moment of happiness hen she read a letter penned by the only person who has loved her. She is almost entirely apathetic towards existence, only driven by her goal to kill General Dalton Brook. She has no friends, has never tried to make any friends, and is seemingly unable to make friends. How can someone with no emotion have friends? She's entirely confident in her abilities, convinced that nothing can stop her, no matter how incorrect that might be. She rarely speaks, and isn't very easy to work with, instead preferring to operate solo. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Nihil's principal talent is mastery with almost all forms of weaponry. She is a highly skilled marksman, able to use a sniper rifle to make shots that no normal human can make. She has a supreme reaction time and can slow her breathing to the point where it is almost impossible to discern if she is actually alive. Her senses are also highly heightened, furthering her skill as a marksman. Her skill with guns is so great that she can shoot the individual blades of a helicopter while they are in motion. She has been trained in the art of 'gun-kata', a form of martial arts that integrates hand to hand techniques with gunplay and the statistical study of a gunfight, allowing her to very accurately predict and then react to the patterns that her enemies will use, making her a very deadly foe against groups of enemies. She is of course, by extension, highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. The serum given to her also has imbued her with more 'super-human' abilities. She is more durable than an average person, able to survive a number of gunshots or a long fall, has strength comparable to a man twice her size. One of her principal abilities is they power to move at speeds that are almost imperceptible, appearing as little more than a blur. Additionally she can jump much higher than the average human, around the height of 20 feet. This allows her supreme mobility, letting dart quickly across the battlefield in a blink of an eye. Weakness: Nihil's first weakness is her highly heightened senses. Although this at first seems to strictly be an advantage she is prone to sensory overload, extreme smells or loud sounds can have highly adverse effects on her. Additionally it is worth nothing that although she is more durable than the average human, unlike many super humans she is still very susceptible to gunshots or other physical damage. She might be durable, but she is very far from invulnerable. Finally the super-serum has had some adverse effects on her. She is prone to intense migraines, which in the past has not served her well in battle. The serum may have more negatory side-effects that remain unseen. Secret Hideout: Nihil has no secret hideout, only a shitty apartment, Relationships: The only feeling Nihil has for any person is the hate she feels for the General.

Quand Riley a été introduit pour la première fois dans l'établissement correctionnel, les scientifiques avaient été fascinés. Après tout, il s'agissait d'une fille non extraordinaire dont les doigts éjectaient le feu, apparemment à sa volonté. Ils ont fait des expériences, ils ont essayé de trouver d'où provenaient la fumée, les miroirs et l'essence. Et puis il était devenu compris que les fibres de Riley étaient simplement faites de différentes choses d'eux, et ils ont cessé, la laissant seule à languir dans une cellule cuboïde si vertigineusement blanc et modelé qu'il a fait Riley, la tête nage avec des maux de tête, pris dans un jeu de dés pendant qu'elle était roulée dans elle. Sans parler, les autorités s'étaient probablement las de Riley, mettant impassiblement le feu à leurs lignes de cheveux qui reculaient lorsqu'elles menaçaient trop souvent un Naomi Pielwood, alors qu'elle s'ennuyait à une table d'examen avec ses signes vitaux bipant à côté de sa tête. Dans la cellule et allongée sur son dos avec un bras levé pour amortir sa tête, Riley riait, un seul genou sortant du sol. Le son résonnait dans la pièce creuse, réverbéré dans le silence. Une fois, Riley aurait pu être parcimonieusement harcelé par un bruit si odieux. Mais c'était avant qu'elle n'apprenne à ne connaître que le silence, et à apprécier sa propre voix. "Ah," dit-elle tendrement, avec un rire mourant et un sourire à elle-même. "Bons moments." Riley n'avait pas vu une autre âme depuis des siècles, mais ça ne voulait pas dire qu'elle était seule. Il y avait un sens des picotements dans l'arrière de son cou, un sentiment impossible à placer qui a laissé entendre qu'elle était regardée. Les caméras n'étaient pas trop difficiles à installer, et l'omnipotence pure de celui qui l'observait jour et nuit était tout simplement trop évidente. Cela devait être ce que les religieux ressentaient, comme ils se blottis dans leurs cocons de couvertures, matelas moulant docilement à chaque courbe et tangent, et s'installèrent pour une bonne nuit de sommeil, transférant tous les soucis et les malheurs et la sécurité à un être qu'ils avaient confiance serait là pour les regarder se réveiller. Mais Riley était l'une des infidèles, et elle n'imaginait pas tout à fait ses ravisseurs comme des hommes barbus gris armés d'un bâton tortueux de justice résidant dans les nuages. Pourtant, elle donnait n'importe quoi pour entendre le crépitement de son propre feu. Elle a manqué les pouvoirs qu'elle venait d'acquérir, ne serait-ce que pour apporter de la chaleur dans cette cage foutue. Une horloge interne sonna l'alarme et les yeux de Riley flippèrent jusqu'à la porte, juste à temps pour regarder son plateau de nourriture étant enchaîné par l'ouverture dans la porte. Avec un soupir profond de quelqu'un qui avait été réduit à la monotonie pure, Riley s'est lourdement mise à ses pieds, une main s'arrachant les cheveux. Les repas n'étaient pas une grande affaire, mais ils étaient une éclaboussure de couleur – pois verts et côtes d'acajou si c'était un jour de chance – dans la cellule monochrome. Au moment où Riley s'en rapprocha, elle s'arrêta, voyant une enveloppe allongée sur son assiette. Mécontent, elle s'est pliée pour ramasser le plateau, sa main droite martelant terne sur la porte. Elle a appelé, sachant que même si le son ne se déplaçait pas à travers les murs, un appareil photo ou un microphone à l'intérieur le prenait. Vous savez si vous voulez que je cuisine pour moi-même, vous allez devoir me donner mon feu!Riley a rattrapé son plateau pour mettre l'accent, l'enveloppe encombrant suspectement bruyamment. Elle a frappé la porte une dernière fois, avant de laisser tomber et de se détourner. Et des ingrédients réels, a-t-elle ajouté, des doigts ramassant l'enveloppe et jouant avec les coins fins. Riley l'a ouvert, pour trouver un gadget à l'intérieur. Un froncement a approfondi son front, avant de se lisser dans un regard d'impossivité. Elle a jeté le plateau sans esprit, et s'est agenouillée face à un coin, dos ébranlé sur ce nouveau trésor. Les coussinets de ses doigts jouaient sur les contours de la PDA, et trouver un bouton Riley l'appuyait, seulement pour être plongé immédiatement dans l'obscurité. Le PDA a glissé de ses mains, atterrissant à l'écran comme Riley maudit et s'est cassé les doigts. Un black-out? Maintenant,?- Elle murmura, sachant bien que c'était la chose la plus éloignée d'un voyage de puissance. "Venez... maintenant serait un grand moment pour réinventer l'ensemble laisser il y a de la lumière shindig." Puis, voyant le PDA rétroéclairé par la lumière de son écran, elle s'est approchée pour le berceaur prudemment dans ses mains comme une voix remplissait la cellule. Riley a travaillé sur son choc alors qu'elle écoutait le message, au prétendu M. Sinister. Elle a glissé sur les mots fulgurants. Monsieur Sinister. Un enfant aurait pu choisir mieux. Tu n'as pas d'autre choix. Pensez-y, et si vous aviez un groupe à appeler quand vous avez besoin d'un peu de sauvetage, ou quand vous planifiez un grand braquage? Ou un idiot pour t'atterrir dans une prison. Pour l'emmener loin d'une bonne chose allant, pour l'arracher à sa sœur... Riley n'a pas trouvé le travail de groupe très droll affaires. Mais alors, les pensées de Naomi elle avait supprimé hors de la douleur emboîté avec la proposition qui venait d'être faite, et Riley gelé, contemplations à s'écraser à l'offre et jeter le PDA de côté scruter à un arrêt. Naomi, maintenant probablement sur sept, qui avait fait trois anniversaires sans sa grande sœur. Naomi, qui attendait toujours Riley. Sortir, c'est la retrouver. Oh, bon sang, elle s'est entachée du PDA, un doigt qui frappe véhémentment l'écran. Le plan d'étage de la prison remplissait l'écran, et Riley écoutait les instructions et l'information rattrapé. En appuyant sur l'écran comme demandé, elle a jeté le PDA dans sa poche, et sur une pensée tardive plié l'enveloppe aussi bien. Elle aurait besoin d'en parler à Naomi pour commencer à s'attendre à sa sœur. Plus tard, quelques tours de pas sans esprit, le pouvoir s'est braqué dans la cellule, avant que la porte de sa cellule ne s'ouvre, grincant d'abus. L'espoir a bondi dans la poitrine de Riley, mais elle a refusé de lui permettre d'ajouter un ressort dans ses pas vers la sortie, même au-dessus de la cacophonie d'autres prisonniers trouvant leur libération. Elle n'était donc pas la seule à avoir été proposée. C'est tout simplement fantastique. Ses pieds l'ont portée à travers le seuil. Riley leva la main vers ses yeux, souffle battit, tandis qu'elle se claquait les doigts. Cliquez. Une flamme éclata devant elle, tremblant dans la ruée de l'air Riley exhala par surprise. Le sourire qu'elle n'avait pas permis s'est cassé le visage, et un rire étonné lui a arraché le chemin de la poitrine. La flamme oscillait violemment, balançant de façon alarmante. Mais ça a brûlé, aussi obstinément inextinguible que jamais. "Oui, les gars, on va faire ça!" Riley a levé les yeux, pour voir un détenu avec une poitrine fraîchement barrée, une figure curieusement proportionnelle qui avait déclaré une conquête de la Terre, et une fille qui venait de neutraliser un robot. Riley sourit un sourire impie, laissa tomber sa main pour éteindre la flamme, et se tourna vers le reste des Rogues qui partageaient son billet. Je pense que vous vous avancez, les gars, elle a dit avec une limace malicieuse dans sa voix. Et nous espérons trouver une cuisine quelque part, elle a pensé avec un petit grondement de faim pour mettre les mains sur une dague après ces deux années à manger avec un spork en plastique. Riley a jeté un coup d'œil sur la fille avec de longues serrures noires et un air d'irritabilité, et lui a donné une fois de plus. Une expression d'un léger amusement s'écoulait sur ses lèvres et ses sourcils. "Impressif. Pensez-vous que vous pouvez faire cela à tous les robots qui viennent à notre chemin?" Elle dit, les yeux éclairent la machine maintenant défectueuse, et jetaient dans une petite plaisanterie bien intentionnée des lèvres pour la bonne mesure. "Livré un peu."

Name: Riley Pielwood Alias: NA Age: 20 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: Snarky and with a love for sharp humour, Riley wouldn’t immediately come across as psychotic to those she meets. Fun-loving and highly appreciative of a few chuckles, Riley makes careless remarks and laughs whenever she will. Though bright and energetic, she hides her claws and filed teeth behind her wide smile, tucked away until her hackles have been raised. Her laughter is bark-like and sharp, as is her bite. She likes teasing people and ribbing them in good fun, but nowhere near as much as she enjoys seeing an expression ranging from dismay to horror to panic to pain unfurl over a face, and knowing she has put it there. She enjoys herself a fair dose of chaos, might instigate it now and then, but she has found that dropping in during the second act isn’t all too bad either. She has an intense weakness for challenges too, and can’t stand being bored, especially if mundane people let her down and fail to fulfill her amusement quota. Sarcasm and sardonicism keep her entertained during lull periods. She doesn’t particularly need to see blood to be satisfied – hasn’t got much of an appetite for it, to be frank – but she will draw it to prove a point if need be. Vindictive, she can get childishly petty and vengeful when she doesn’t get her way. Needless to say, she is not the most mature, but she will do anything for her little sister Naomi. History: Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. It was a crumbling union of two unfortunate souls too prideful to separate that Riley witnessed as a toddler, loathed as an child and overlooked as an adolescent. It helped matters none when her mother got pregnant again and Riley got herself a younger sister at nine. Of course, it was left to Riley to look after the thing right after it was weaned. It took all of six months for her to get attached to little Naomi, but once she began to feel warmth uncoiling in her stomach when looking at the ankle-biter’s rosy cheeks and guileless gummy smile, she was stupidly loyal to a baby. By then, she had gotten herself into a few scuffles, though nothing serious. She would return home with bloody knuckles and bruises blooming anywhere imaginable and her baby sister would brush her chubby grasp over the tender spots on Riley’s skin like a whisper. Their parents had never been big on gentle physical touch, and Riley absolutely lived for those moments. She never lost a fight, and came home daily to coo over Naomi as the dull aches slowly pulsed into faded muscle memory. Their parents slowly spiraled further and further away, eventually becoming so detached and in need of remedy that the dining table was empty more often than not, as they spent their days languishing in numb, alcohol-induced limbos. That however didn’t bother Riley as much as how bone-dry Naomi’s bottle was getting, and when Naomi got a fever Riley was thrown into absolute panic. She considered it a miracle her sister hadn’t gotten sick earlier – the darkened flat hadn’t been feather-brushed in years, much less properly cleaned, and Riley’s cheeks were growing gaunt and hollow to keep Naomi’s plump but almost, it would seem, to no avail. Riley could see it all – the hunger, the pain – diminishing to naught as she perched owlishly by the crib, desperately clinging onto Naomi’s pudgy fist as she screamed and her face turned ruddy and her little voice choked on her own tears. The next morning in school, a boy passed a mindless comment that sent Riley rocketing off her seat. She was sick with worry, and the boy was a brainy bespectacled thing who deserved all her resentment because he came from a house that wasn’t falling apart and parents with a love as deep as their wallets. He couldn’t even fight her off with his own fists. Instead, he begged her to stop and tried to sweeten the plea with money. Riley almost scoffed, until she realised what he was offering and plucked him off the ground. He meekly handed her five dollars, but a shaking of his shoulders and a snarl in his pasty face raised the sum to a princely fifteen. With that money, Riley was able to buy milk formula for Naomi. Given another two recesses and a whole playground full of potential victims with cushy families, Riley could pay for a trip to the doctor’s. She attracted strange stares in the waiting room, as she cradled a squalling baby in knobby arms and with cheeks smudged as dark as soot, but she glared at the receptionist and nurses and patients who were all just blockades between Naomi and the doctor until they tore their eyes to the ground. Naomi got better, but Riley continued to bully the kids, until the pantry was stocked up again and Riley herself began to fill out. When she was twelve, upperclassmen who had seen her exploits during recess where the teachers couldn’t see invited her to play truant with them. She surveyed them warily at first, until they mentioned money. By the time Riley was thirteen, she had become a bully outside of the playground, and ran around with a gang of youths who were all older than her but headed in the same direction. Rogues had already started becoming an issue then, and these gangly adolescents with enough tar in their lungs to reline roads and tattoos snaking around their bodies like vices fantasised living lives of obscene wealth, play, and skullduggery. They got up to mischief on a daily basis; Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. Even if the gang was majorly made up of dim bulbs and dull tools, Riley was saving up handsomely, and they made her laugh and lightened her heart even if they lived a story set against the most grim of backgrounds. Plus, her thick-as-thieves associates in malice would have gladly jumped a bullet for Naomi, now at four a cute rascal with a smile to melt even the ringleader’s heart and enough naivety to shame Riley, and she was grateful for any protection they could offer, now that she had gotten herself involved in risky business. But she lived every day laughing and playing with her sister, running around and wreaking havoc around town with teenagers as mad and starved for the intangible as her, and it was a good life to live. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. But because the one above was too long, I added in this summarised version, because I can understand it would be a pain to read through the whole thing. Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. She later had a little sister by the name of Naomi at the age of nine, who came to care intensely for. She would often get into fights in school, but always came home to Naomi and for that she was grateful. Their parents then stopped providing for them, and it worried Riley that Naomi was getting less and less fed. When Naomi got a fever Riley was worried sick, and after beating up a rich boy in school realised she could extort money from her classmates, using what she unjustly earned to buy milk formula for Naomi, pay for her health, and feed the family again. When she was twelve, she became involved with a gang of youths who were all older than her but filled to the brim in the head with fantasies of being rogues. Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. She stayed on because she was earning and learning, and running amok with these people lifted her spirits. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. What Got You Famous: The same problem happened; I'm so sorry. And she did. She did do her job, got herself paid and told to rest on her laurels until something else came along and they called on her duty again. She did her job several times over, and did it well even if it would make her stomach turn. But she overcame her squeamishness quickly enough, and only pursed her lips when she did her job. But somebody else didn’t. Somebody else screwed up, and Riley was awakened one night by Naomi’s screaming, her parents’ shouting, and the door to her room being kicked down. She was seventeen. A seventeen-year-old girl caught in her bed in nothing but boxers and a singlet, eyes still bleary from sleep and squinting into the spotlight shone on her, as her little sister cried at the doorway, held back by parents who now gave their undivided attention. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly what the ARGO team had been expecting when they crashed into her house on an overnight mission to round-up members of a rogue organisation they had just dismantled, because there was a beat of absolute silence from the officers – armed with impressive weaponry and decked out in bulletproof vests and suits which all looked overdone now – before they started to order her to the ground, voices ricocheting in the cramped room. When Riley failed to comply, one of them reached forward to roughly drag her off the bed. But it had been a long time since Riley had slept, sure of her safety. Before the officer could even blink, she had dragged the serrated edge of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow into the flesh of his underarm. Howling, he let her go, falling back and failing his arm so that blood flew everywhere. Pandemonium peaked, and Pandora’s box opened in that room itself as voices exploded and rifles were whipped into the hunter’s crouch, aimed right at her heart. Another soldier tried to advance, and the hand holding the dagger twitched to right beside her ear, ready to be thrown. Caught in this stalemate, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who broke free of her parents’ hold to push against the back of an officer’s legs, desperate to get through, crying for Riley even though her entire front was splattered with another man’s blood. The officer turned sharply then, every instinct lit and every nerve strung high, and swung the barrel of his rifle down as he peered at Naomi. It was aimed right at her sister. I cannot lose her. With a flick of her wrist that was too easy – so familiar, so simple – Riley threw the dagger. It embedded itself deeply in the chink of armour that had been revealed as the soldier craned his neck downwards. In a spray of blood from the back of his neck, the soldier gave a last sputter and fell. A body was flung at her, pinning her at once against the floor. Riley landed on her back, the breath flattened out of her. She started to wrestle with the man, scratching at his face and knocking his visor askew, all the while hearing the high-pitched shrieks of Naomi. She made a claw-like shape with her hand, whipping it forth to rake her nails down the man’s face. Unexpectedly, the man yowled anew when tongues of flame licked his face. His comrades who had scrambled to save the fallen life whirled around to find Riley struggling to her feet, gazing in awe at her right hand now swallowed in fire. She looked up, to see soldiers with eyes full of intent to bring her down, and waved her arm around, a torch that roared with life as she yelled, “Stand back!” Obstinately, the team advanced, and she flung her hand at them. Fire sprung to life behind a man’s ears, and he scrambled to beat it out. But try as he might he continued to burn. New screams filled the room, and hesitantly the team began to recoil. There was a window just paces away from where Riley stood. She was just about to leap for it, when she heard Naomi – all screams now dead – whimper, “Make it stop.” It was enough to strike Riley dumb; that pause was enough for what remained of the force to bring her down and innovatively bag and handcuff her hands. But she remained limp, lifeless, beneath them, hearing on endless repeat Naomi’s plea. Once she was hauled upright to be taken away, Riley bent to Naomi’s level long enough to say goodbye, before she was heaved into an armoured truck; before she could say – hypocritically – stay out of trouble, be good; before she could hear her sister burst into tears again. Riley’s story gained renown. After all, a girl whose hand spontaneously combusts into flame is never conventional. Reporters craving a juicy story martyred her when word got out how subdued she became once she heard her little sister call out for her. The efforts to make her a saint only intensified when a journalist shallowly researched her background to hit upon the sheer depth of Riley’s care for Naomi. But it was all useless, because Riley was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, locked away somewhere by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content, and no amount of media press was ever going to get her out. Naomi worked with the organisation for a while, fully aware that it was nasty business but getting over her qualms about it for the money she and Naomi were dependent on. But then somebody made a mistake, and an ARGO team came to round up members of the rogue organisation they managed to dismantle. They kicked down their way into her room before the eyes of her parents and Naomi. They woke her up abruptly, and when one of them tried to roughly drag her off the bed, she cut him with the dagger she slept beneath her pillow. Both parties conscious that the other was dangerous, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who pushed against the back of an officer’s legs, trying to get to Riley. The officer turned at the push, and swung his rifle in such a way that the barrel was aimed at Naomi. Afraid at once of losing her sister, Riley threw the dagger and it cut into the back of the soldier’s neck. One of the men pinned her to the floor, and while trying to fight him off, Riley’s hand burst into flame, causing him to yowl and fly back. Riley used her hand now aflame to ward them off, and set a man’s ears on fire from a distance. This gave the rest of the team cause to pause, and while Riley thought about jumping out the window as the men all burned at her feet, she heard Naomi whimper, “Make it stop.” The fight left Riley then, and she was immediately hauled away. Her story gained renown, for the sheer shock factor of Riley’s inflammatory powers, and the selling point that was her love for her sister. Riley however was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, and locked away by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content. Equipment: Daggers. Lots and lots of daggers. She has a belt to carry rows of them like teeth, but she lost it when she was taken into custody from her home. But she has plans to fashion a new one from scratch if need be. Powers/Abilities: Knife-handling. Riley can severely injure anyone with a blade in hand, and even out of hand. Her daggers always fly in the trajectory she wants. She can control flame as well. Fire will burst to life in her palms, or fingertips, or a flammmable object at a reasonable distance - Riley enjoys being able to light candles without having to get up. She can put out a fire if she wills it, and adds in a little of her own fire as well. Her brand of flame is very difficult to put out too. Riley likes to joke that pouring milk over it helps, though the actual trick is to deprive it of oxygen. On a large-scale however that would prove problematic. She can also increase the temperature of her skin to an alarming pitch, so as to scald and give first-degree burns to anyone who tries to grab her. But she can’t sustain too high a temperature for too long; Riley has enzymes too that she doesn’t want denaturing. Weakness: Mention harm to Naomi, and if she thinks you can make good on that promise, she will suppress herself. (If not, it will only enrage her) Drenching her with water would work well to stop her from committing more arson too, I guess. Secret Hideout: Old, and rustic, the tree-house stands in the tree-tops, desolate and away from traffic. It used to be an old haunt for vagabonds and the way-less, and it's just right for Riley if she wants to be alone to think, or if she wants to kip a night. Relationships: None so far with rogues or heroes, but she loves her sister Naomi dearly. She knows a few rogues who carved some names for themselves but ever since being locked away she hasn't heard from them. She has contacts, but they're all far away in her hometown, and distant from the years apart.

Semyaza, ayant visiblement tendu une fois que le son des arts martiaux avait passé ce qui comptait comme ses oreilles, a enlevé son pied de la rampe et s'est tourné pour faire face aux humains. « Sans sa force, la magie ne peut contenir le général Grate Semyaza. Ces pathétiques Idols humains ne correspondent pas à un vrai soldat de l'Empire Grigori! Échapper était inévitable au moment où j'ai été libéré de ma cellule." Cela avait été un enfer de 6 ans dans cette cellule, un hymne angélique constamment produit par les haut-parleurs sur le mur. Certains jours, il avait été trop délirant pour même manger. Il avait à peine la force de récupérer l'appareil de M. Sinister. L'effort qu'il avait fallu pour appuyer non pas une fois, mais deux fois sur l'appareil n'a été rivalisé que par la force métallique qu'il a fallu pour ne pas essayer de l'écraser pour les insultes des Terriens. En effet, ce n'était probablement qu'à cause de sa faiblesse à l'époque qu'il était même sorti de cette cage. Mais maintenant, il pouvait à nouveau sentir de l'énergie sombre couler à travers chaque muscle, et comme il a repéré le robot handicapé sur le sol, il a senti une envie soudaine de l'utiliser. Comment oser un humain puiser le premier sang alors qu'il avait été si injuste, était - il bien plus méritant? Comme s'il allait se permettre d'être surpassé! Comme une paire de robots de sécurité est venue courir vers eux, il a laissé une bataille grogner et jeté ses bras en avant. Ses bras s'étendirent comme des fouets, l'électricité sombre éclatant à travers ses doigts comme ses mains saisir pour les robots.

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

Les quinze minutes promises se sont tictées, et alors que la porte de la cellule se déverrouillait et s'ouvrait avec une série de clinks métalliques, James Falcon s'est levé aux pieds, un plateau de nourriture en plastique vide dans sa main. L'énergie est revenue dans son corps comme une chaleur confortable dans son estomac. La capacité était une partie de lui, et il était si juste de le faire remplacer après avoir été déchiré. Le premier tort à être corrigé. Le plateau dans sa main a commencé à croître, doublant puis trébuchant dans la longueur, la largeur et, surtout, l'épaisseur. Ce qui avait été maladroit maintenant avait assez de force en elle pour agir comme un bouclier de fortune, ou alors il espérait. Ensuite, il a tourné son attention sur le boulon sur sa porte de cellule, et il s'est rétréci à la moitié de ses dimensions d'origine, permettant à l'homme de travailler sans mécanisme de verrouillage. Une fois libéré, il cultiva la petite tige d'acier comme il avait le plateau jusqu'à ce qu'il atteigne la taille d'une barre métallique lourde. S'il devait être traité comme un criminel violent par les deux gouvernements et les bandits, il pourrait aussi bien répondre à leurs attentes. Ses outils improvisés n'étaient pas grand-chose, mais il pensait qu'il était prudent d'être armé pour sa descente à la sortie. Il a regardé par la porte, scrutant le hall. D'autres prisonniers étaient déjà sortis et exaltaient dans leur liberté. L'un d'eux avait même abattu un garde robotisé. Au-delà d'eux jusqu'à l'extrémité du couloir, il se concentra sur un endroit juste à côté de l'arbre et activa sa seconde capacité : la téléportation visuelle. En un clin d'œil, il se tenait là, regardant le courant de vent enflammé devant lui. Il a pris une profonde respiration et s'est avancé au-dessus du précipice.

Name: James Edward Falcon Allias: Falcon Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Human Powers: Falcon can cause objects around him to change size, growing or shrinking into perfect scale replicas of themselves without changing density. A secondary ability allows him to teleport to anywhere he can see. Appearance: Falcon has narrow grey eyes set above a prominent nose and a slim, clean-shaven face. He keeps his dark hair short, and was typically known to go around in a smartly-tailored business suit and tie. His torso is solidly built though not overly muscular, and his long legs take him to a height of 190 centimetres. (Picture to come) History: James Falcon came into his abilities as a young man and, seeing that his powers were less well suited to flying though the skyline fighting criminals, he instead entered the world of business. His talent for growth and long-term strategic thinking saw him rise to prominence at a young age. Because of his belief that superbeings should use their abilities to make the world better, he put much of his wealth funding altruistic projects. He put money into refugee camps and disaster relief, and funded drug research and subsidies where he felt that the government was falling short. As time passed and his business empire grew, his philanthropy also branched out to supporting political campaigns of candidates he felt had good priorities, then to supporting the cases of criminals whose actions he believed were justified, such as those who used dubious methods to expose corruption or exploitation. It was when he was found to be sheltering two of these men in his mansion while police were searching for them that he himself was arrested for obstructing the course of justice and trumped up charges related to his use of financial resources to exert undue influence on politics. James did not resist his arrest and agreed to stand trial, confident in his assertions that the good he did for the world far outweighed the bad and that others would see that and overlook his breaking the letter of the law for upholding its spirit. He was dead wrong. A number of his political and business rivals piled in on the case, pushing for as harsh a sentence as possible, and he was sent to prison for five years. As a regular prison would be unable to hold him and no suitable facility was near to hand, he was extradited and sent to a secure facility designed to hold the most hardened violent supervillains, the ICF. Horrified and insulted by this turn of events, he brooded on his anger and frustration, and so the supervillain Falcon was born. The people who had put him here, he decided, were incompetent fools. He had spent a long time plugging holes in a broken system with his own hard work and donations, but to truly help, much more would be required. The whole system needed to be broken down and rebuilt from the ground up, and the people in charge needed to know what they were doing and be able to see it through. People like Falcon. This would be his new mission in life, and arriving in jail, he had plenty of time to plan. Personality: James Falcon is not an impulsive man. Rather, in all things he prefers a cautious, calculating, strategic approach. To him, knowledge is power and the way to get what one wants is by careful planning and precise execution. He prefers his own company when ruminating on these things and reacts irritably to distraction, though he will happily share his ideas and talk at length at more appropriate times. He is possessed of great determination and drive to reach his goals, and, facilitated by his approach above, has usually been successful. He truly does want to make the world a better place, but this ambition has been twisted by his anger and frustration about the ineffectiveness of government at achieving meaningful changes. He has become proud, vengeful and ruthless. Strengths: Falcon’s most formidable asset is his strong intellect, which allows him to use his abilities to full effect in a number of situations. This is backed up by his sharp senses and good reflexes. Weaknesses: Falcon’s teleportation ability only enables him to move within his line of sight, which limits its usefulness when it’s dark or his vision is otherwise obscured. He can take one other person with him or an equivalent amount of material, but no more. His size altering powers do not work on himself or any other humans. He dislikes being thrust into situations without warning, as his best strength comes from planning ahead and being able to control his environment. Secret Hideout: As mentioned above, Falcon is not from Lochwell City, so he has no current base in the city. What he does have, however, is his emergency Swiss bank account, which he started when he first entered business and has been feeding ever since in case some unforeseen disaster should make the rest of his fortune inaccessible. Equipment: For now, a prison jumpsuit. But just you wait until he can get out and get creative! Relationships: James has immense respect for The Chief, a superhero from his hometown who doesn’t just catch criminals, but spends just as much time using his abilities to be helpful to law-abiding people. This is supering done right, in his opinion. “Superbeings are not bound by the laws of men. We are born with the power to break the laws of nature itself, and are bound to step in and use that power when ordinary systems fail to protect mankind. I spent years trying to prop up the current system and plug its gaps with my powers, never realising that what it was beyond all hope of repair. Similarly, I reject my sentence under your legal code and instead answer to a higher moral law. It now demands that I step in not to uphold civilisation, but to destroy it. I will burn everything down to the bedrock and start over, This time, I will be in charge and I will see things done right.”

Ça fait vraiment un demi-année? Le temps semblait être absent ici. Pas de fenêtres pour indiquer le cycle des jours. Pas d'horloges pour entendre le rythmique. Ne quittez pas la cellule. C'était une réalité fougueuse et probablement sans espoir, aussi. La seule chose qui a permis à Elizabeth Fowler de s'appuyer sur quelque chose de ressemblant à de l'espoir était de suivre le temps. Les systèmes automatisés mis en place ont tout facilité. Les repas étaient le premier et le plus grand indice, toujours servi deux fois par jour et à la même heure exacte. Mais cela seul ne pouvait pas suffire. C'était trop facile d'oublier quel repas vous preniez. Est-ce que c'était le petit-déjeuner ou le dîner que vous venez de consommer? Les repas étaient toujours les mêmes, aussi, toujours froid et sans vie. Non, tu devais faire tellement plus pour garder la trace du temps. Les patrouilles des gardes ont dû être comptées car elles ont elles aussi suivi le même rythme robotique. Entre-temps, elle compta les secondes qui s'étaient écoulées et se forait constamment à la date actuelle. Le sommeil était un obstacle facilement surmonté par les heures de repas. Et ainsi de suite, Élisabeth, ou Ellie, vivrait chaque jour de sa captivité en comptant. Elle n'a jamais perdu son temps, enflammant des rêves inutiles d'espoir avec des pensées d'évasion. Le temps était la seule chose pertinente qui restait à ce stade. Lorsque le repas #359, a glissé à travers le plateau de la porte de sécurité, il était immédiatement évident que quelque chose était différent à ce sujet. Les mêmes proportions froides et la ration quotidienne de sang d'Ellie, une chose très nécessaire pour sa survie étaient toutes les deux arrangées de la même manière, précise. La disparité vient d'un petit appareil qui était presque entièrement un écran. Le repas pouvait attendre, quel que soit l'appareil, c'était certainement plus important. - C'est quoi, ça? Il semble qu'il y ait peu de choix offert, pas qu'il importe cependant. Une promesse soudaine d'évasion était plus qu'assez suffisante pour qu'Ellie soit enfin libre de compter, surtout si l'on considère l'alternative. Elle n'a pas perdu de temps et a appuyé sur le bouton du PDA pour le deuxième message... Le message était à mi-parcours avant qu'elle se rende compte qu'elle devrait se souvenir de tout. Quand le message s'est terminé, elle a fait le tour de la pièce pendant quelques minutes. Avec les lumières éteintes, Ellie pourrait probablement se faufiler car il faisait assez sombre lui permettant de Shadowmeld pour une évasion facile. Mais les lumières sont revenues, rendant les dernières minutes de planification sans valeur. Si les lumières fonctionnaient, Shadowmeld serait inutile. Après quelques minutes de plus, elle avait presque oublié d'utiliser son autre pouvoir, mais quand elle sentait cette soif particulière, elle se rappelait. Assis sur le plateau était toujours la pinte de sang de son repas qu'elle avait tout oublié. En tirant soigneusement la boîte de papier, elle a pris une inhalation profonde avant de prendre une gorgée du liquide froid et nauséabonde. Ellie a senti une poussée à travers elle, en voulant plus, mais elle ne voulait pas encore céder. La porte bourdonnait et puis elle se déverrouillait à haute voix. Ellie l'ouvrit et sortit dans le couloir, et le début d'un nouveau chapitre. Il y en avait d'autres dans le couloir, qui s'étendaient d'une manière circulaire afin que vous ne puissiez pas voir trop loin dans une direction. Qui étaient les prisonniers, était hors de propos en ce moment. En ce moment, ils étaient tous probablement impatients de cette promesse d'évasion. En regardant autour d'elle, Ellie n'a pas vu où elle devait aller. Cependant, elle a vu une femme renverser un garde robotisé et un autre, un extraterrestre étrange, tirer l'électricité sur deux gardes. Elle ne se souciait pas du reste et a plutôt choisi de marcher de façon décontractée le long du couloir serré, crachant sa pinte de sang. Elle avait probablement l'air stupide de porter un carton de lait incolore, mais ça n'avait pas d'importance ce que les autres pensaient. Elle a continué, passant devant les autres jusqu'à ce qu'elle devienne la plus proche de l'arbre dont parlait le PDA. Scratch que, deuxième plus proche qu'un homme avait réussi à se téléporter là-bas tout à l'heure. Chaque homme pour lui-même, il semblait. Deux gardes sont restés et ils sont venus charger de l'arbre vers le groupe. Ellie a soutenu, feignant son impuissance. Elle a marché derrière les deux autres femmes présentes et leur a appelé. "Ils ont l'air si effrayants..." Ellie pleurait alors qu'elle changeait tout son comportement pour s'adapter à la façade. "Je ne pense pas pouvoir aider, mais, euh... peut-être que vous pouvez?" Elle a dit avec un sourire mal à l'aise et un clin d'œil pour encourager les autres à prendre soin des gardes. Ce n'était pas tellement qu'Ellie n'était pas prête à se salir les mains, plutôt qu'elle préférerait sauver ses capacités jusqu'à ce que ce soit nécessaire.

Name: Elizabeth “Ellie” Fowler Alias: Age: 26 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: At this point, Ellie is pretty hardened, cold, and selfish. There have been brief lapses in her character where she is considerably warmer, or kinder, especially when a matter concerns a small child as she usually isn’t willing to cross a line that may harm something she considers innocent. To further that, she doesn’t like to being called a beast outright. She absolutely hates having a “bad night” and waking up, soaked in blood. History: Elizabeth Fowler was born and raised as an innocent country girl from the Midwest. Her early life was uneventful but during the summer after her junior year of high school, she came into contact with some creepy stalker figure who managed to get Ellie on her lonesome. But this man wasn’t interested in ransom, sex, or anything that Elizabeth had expected. Instead this man savagely bit into Elizabeth’s neck and after a moment, left her there. She passed out shortly after the man had left but to her horror, she awoke many hours later inside her house, her family dead, in gory fashion, before her. Horrified, she wanted to run seeking help but the sight of their blood… It seemed to occupy her thoughts and any thought of running for help vanished from her mind. Again, she seemed to pass out only to reawake in her bedroom, just like before. Scared at what had just happened, she never went back to that living room, where her family’s body was, and instead leapt through her window and ran. Years would go by as she tried to repress her powers but she would get these “cravings” for blood, over and over again. She would eventually relapse and the cycle would continue. She feared the idea of handing herself over so she never did, despite the horrific acts she was committing. Eventually, she just started becoming accustomed to it. But one thing continued to plague her thoughts, who was that man that cursed Ellie with this and why only her? She had not infected anyone, and she knew of nobody that had this certain craving like she did, so why was Ellie chosen all those years ago? Whatever the reason, she wanted revenge on that individual and hoped to get it one day. As security and countermeasures to Rogues increased, Ellie was eventually captured in LA during a particularly “bad night” by AGRO personal. She awoke to find herself in a well-lit cell, designed to prevent self harm or sight of anything outside the cell. Equipment: There has never really been a need for Ellie to carry equipment. Occasionally she will carry a weapon in order to assist with drawing blood or defending herself. The weapons vary to whatever Ellie can find but they usually are some sort of kitchen knife with a rare exception that she uses a gun. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Bloodlust - This ability allows Ellie to gain an increase in speed and strength but only whenever she encounters human blood. The more blood, and by default gore, there is in her area, the stronger Ellie becomes. Unfortunately, any increase in her Bloodlust ability will be portional to a loss of sanity and control Ellie has. The effects of Bloodlust are temporary but the results can be horrific. Shadowmeld - A dark alley at night can hide just about anybody from the naked eye, but Ellie’s Shadowmeld takes her concealment a little further. Under a certain light intensity level, Ellie can be hidden from a well trained or supernatural eye (in most cases) and various scanning equipment (infrared, night vision, etc.). Weakness: Sunlight or artificial light can be a great counter to both of Ellie’s abilities. Direct sunlight severely cripples Ellie’s speed and strength and lessens her gains in those areas, while not lessening her loss of sanity from seeing blood. Shadowmeld is completely nullified in sunlight and pretty much anywhere outside as the light intensity is too high to find a dark enough spot. Artificial light, depending on the light intensity, can slow or harm Ellie, but in a lesser capacity compared to the sun. Street lights and such will have almost zero impact, but a well lit room will have a noticeable impact on Ellie’s performance. Light can be weaponized against Ellie as even the sudden shock of a flashlight beam striking Ellie can briefly stun her. Police forces have taken to using bright UV lights to really counter Ellie. Secret Hideout: Her apartment was illegally acquired after she killed the previous tenant. It is tucked away in the Bottoms, a pretty poor district but highly prized for it’s discretion. Relationships: Hates the man from her past, Hates ARGOs

Ek'ork vivait dans cette cellule depuis qu'il a tué cet horrible humain. L'homme avait mérité de mourir et il a apporté sa douce libération. Une fois arrivé ici, le Nexus a été coupé et il a été laissé seul. Tout était si froid et humide, sans vie dans sa cellule, même la pauvre nourriture qui n'a jamais changé était horrible. La vie en prison pour Ek'ork était dure. Il ne pouvait ni ici ni sentir son propre peuple et il ne pouvait plus se sentir lui-même, cette cellule l'avait rendu humain et il la détestait. Il y avait peu de bonnes choses qui sortaient du meurtre du président; il a appris le langage humain, lanré sur leurs émotions et leur culture, et maintenant et compris pourquoi il a été mis ici. Ses gens apprennent des autres en mangeant tout leur être et en l'ajoutant au Nexus pour en faire un meilleur peuple. S'il sortait un jour de son peuple, il apprendrait ce qu'est une famille, apprendrait l'amour et gagnerait des désirs, des rêves et des buts. ___________________________ Ek'ork était dans la méditation quand sa nourriture a été déposée. Il a attendu un moment et a ensuite regardé là-bas pour voir que c'était un plateau vide avec une petite enveloppe dessus. Il a dû y ramper en raison de sa taille, une fois qu'il l'a ouvert, il a vu que c'était ce que l'homme appelait un PDA. Les thjng étaient bons pour suivre l'agitation et l'agitation de leur vie sans sens. Une fois qu'il a cliqué sur le bouton, il est venu à la vie et le 'Mr. Sinister a commencé à parler. Le ton de la voix sonnait comme son père et, si cet homme est quelque chose comme son père, alors il sera soit un grand allié, soit un ennemi dangereux. Ek'ork a accepté son offre, en décidant que si c'était la seule issue, il devait l'accepter. Une fois sa cellule fermée pour la deuxième fois et les portes ouvertes, il est sorti et la première chose qui l'a frappé était une vague de puissance. Cloutant sa tête, il pouvait sentir le Nexus revenir en ligne et sentir les pensées et les émotions des petits nombres qui composaient son royaume. Après que la vague ait arrêté l'eau dans son esprit, elle a retrouvé son sang-froid. En regardant autour de lui, il a vu d'autres avec qui Sinister avait mentionné qu'il devait travailler pour sortir. Il les observa et regarda comment la fille avait enlevé la garde, puis une autre créature en détruisit deux autres. Il en a vu un à gauche et il le regardait. C'était la seule chose qui bloquant son chemin vers le tunnel à vent, qu'un homme était déjà à. Il marchait vers le tunnel le long du chemin et quand le robot l'a remarqué il a chargé sur lui. Le robot l'a frappé dans la poitrine et a détruit sa main dans le processus, mais il a apporté un bruit de fissuration. Ek'ork a été confus à ce sujet et puis il a remarqué depuis des années d'avoir à accroupir qu'il était encore harcelé. Donc il a tiré une main dans la poitrine des machines et l'a jetée sur les rails sur les étages inférieurs. Il a ensuite commencé à craquer les os et à s'étirer les muscles. Il s'est tordu du côté au côté, il s'est fléchi du dos et s'est craqué le cou, le tout pour gagner sa stature en arrière. Une fois qu'il a fini, il était debout et sa hauteur de dominance normale et il s'est senti lâche et détendu pour une fois. Il s'approcha déjà de l'homme au tunnel et se tint à côté de lui sans rien dire en regardant l'air aller en sentant sa brise. Il a coincé sa main dans le courant et le pouvoir était grand. Ek'ork était sûr qu'il pouvait transporter ecen le plus lourd des hommes jusqu'au sommet. En regardant l'homme à côté de lui, Ek'ork a pensé à parler. "Il est temps que nous quittions Sinister a dit que nous étions sur l'horloge. Il a dit avec une voix soupirante et soyeuse à cause de lui ne l'utilisant pas pendant longtemps. .Avec cela, il s'est retourné et a regardé les autres dans la pièce avant d'aller au puits.

Name: Ek'ork Alias: The Founder/Eroric (those who cannot say his name call him Eroric) Age: 345 Gender: Male Species: Descender Personality: Ek'ork is a temperamental man. Most of the others of his species are all very respectful of their prince, but the human soon learn that he is quick to snap at any one. Like any prince when he ask for something he expects it no matter what, or there will be sever consequences. When coming to Earth he did not like their customs and traditions at all and had a problem adjusting. His mind is not one so easily conquered. It is vast, unlike humanity who can only use 5-16% of their brain capacity, his people can use up to 60% and it makes them different. They are numb to most human emotions and he does not quiet understand right and wrong just yet. History: Ek'ork lived as a prince on his home world, it was a dying planet and his people knew that, they understood that it was a dog eat dog world and the royalty had the biggest say in anything. Due to his fathers falling health it was getting close to the crowning ceremony, where the prince eats the father while he dies. In his society the minds of the people are connected by a mind link. Being an all male society, the more dominant males have royal blood in their veins and have better control over the others, acting as the queen bee of the planets hive. While the weaker males have little to know royal blood and are the worker bees. Ek'ork was next in line to take over the crown , which is know as the nexus. The Nexus is the hub for the mental links, which is why the kings get older and older as the years go on. So the previous king will find another 'proper' male and they would grow an egg using both of their genes. This is how Ek'ork came to be, his father (mother) was a warrior and fought in the many different wars waged by his people, while his other father (father/the king) has been ruling for 1000 years. He has just reached maturity and was now fit for the crown and just as he finished eating his father alive and accepting the Nexus, his world puffed out its last breath. Everything was falling apart and now as king Ek'ork had made the decision to leave, grabbing his only reaming father and trusted advisers, he left the little red world and watched it explode. HE could feel the instant deaths of millions of his people and it was a pain he will never forget. They found Earth by accident and thought it was a world easily inhabited. So they landed in secret and soon began to watch the humans before striking. There were only about 250 of his people left and after 5 years of observation they strike. What he did not know was that they had been found out and the humans were ready for him. 3 years of long war later and his population had been dropped down to 65. He called for peace and bought it with advanced technology and money. After the war he bought he and his people their 'humanity' and American Citizenship he took up home in Lochwell. He was, is, and will be an impatient man so he did not really get human customs and traditions until he ate one. This is how his people relay information form other people. They did not even speak English or any other Earth language until he ate his first human. WGUF-What Got You Famous: After the war and a few years of living in Lochwell, Ek'ork was called in by the president for a 'check-up' and followed suit. He went ot the white house and met the previous president, an arrogant man who did very many disrespectful looking things to Ek'ork's POV. Growing enraged by the minute Ek'ork finally snapped and ate the man. The first human he every ate was the president of the united states and he did it in a savage manner. Blood and leftover body parts could be seen throughout the Oval Office. He was apprehended on the spot and sent to ICF for permanent incarceration. His people were not reprimanded though and still run his gang on the outside. Equipment: He has a war suit that he wears during combat. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents:His people are naturally strong in nature, being able to life ten times their weight like ants, they also have their own martial arts system. He was trained by a warrior and bred for combat. His strikes are hard and he can kill anything in 10 different ways or more. He is a hunter and has instincts like one. Due to him having the Nexus his brain usage jumps to 75%. This gives him prime control over his own body. He can control two different things, his density. Making himself as light as a feather, giving him flight, or as heavy and hard as a star, giving him an added punch. Ek'ork can phase through objects as well bye reducing his density to allow him to go through solid objects, or vice versa. Weakness: Ek'ork is a King of his people, this mean a lot. The Nexus is a heavy burden and even though he will not die for many thousands of years (due to low population) Using the Nexus is a great burden and a last resort. After it gets used he needs time to recover from fatigue, duration depending on how long he has been using. He is not bullet proof by any means, only when he is using the Nexus, but during normal combat he can be shot and cut and broken like anyone else. Also his massive structure is a problem in many cases, small confined spaces are not his forte and he sends people do that for him. Secret Hideout: The Mothership of his people is hidden some where in the Pacific ocean, but their base of operations and only access point is in a bar owned by him. Relationships:

Pénitencier AI Craftchenco Rapport initial : - J'ai... Hack dans le processus. Systèmes au-dessus de la course Toutes les cellules du bloc A ont été déverrouillées Coupe d'énergie au bloc de cellules A. Recherche pour la vie; 7 détenus ont été libérés Les émeutes dans les prisons sont en cours Lockdown ICF Prsion pour le bloc cellulaire A en vigueur. Niveau de menace: B - J'ai... Les protocals de Jerico Flush ont été iniatés; Les gardes sont dépossédés pour soumettre les cibles et les ramener dans leurs cellules. Les niveaux d'eau de Prsion ont commencé à augmenter Les planchers 100-78 sont maintenant inondés Les planchers 77-65 sont maintenant inondés Niveau de menace : A Alerte au quartier général de l'ARGO Envoi d'un signal de détresse à la tour Vigil. - J'ai... Arbre d'ascenseur est ouvert possible route d'évasion demandé. La menace de niveau S est maintenant en jeu. Envoyer les grognements restants pour soumettre et capturer les détenus. Powering on WARDEN CRAFTCHENCO for létale combat at the top of Cell Block A. Niveau de menace : S __________________ Les lumières rouges commencent à clignoter l'éclairage en émergence, puis 2 douzaines de gardes commencent à tomber d'un endroit inconnu se battent contre les détenus restants sur chaque plancher « sec » avant que l'eau ne s'élève sur le sol. Les seules zones sèches sont les cellules elles-mêmes. Si vous regardez vers le bas, vous pouvez voir les niveaux inférieurs étant remplis de l'eau noyant tous ceux qui refusent de revenir dans leurs cellules. Les gardes combattent ceux qui ne sont pas dans leurs cellules. Vous êtes au niveau 52. Tout en haut dans le dôme, le robot qui est Craftchenco se trouve à l'entrée large en attendant la menace de niveau S.

Name: Ek'ork Alias: The Founder/Eroric (those who cannot say his name call him Eroric) Age: 345 Gender: Male Species: Descender Personality: Ek'ork is a temperamental man. Most of the others of his species are all very respectful of their prince, but the human soon learn that he is quick to snap at any one. Like any prince when he ask for something he expects it no matter what, or there will be sever consequences. When coming to Earth he did not like their customs and traditions at all and had a problem adjusting. His mind is not one so easily conquered. It is vast, unlike humanity who can only use 5-16% of their brain capacity, his people can use up to 60% and it makes them different. They are numb to most human emotions and he does not quiet understand right and wrong just yet. History: Ek'ork lived as a prince on his home world, it was a dying planet and his people knew that, they understood that it was a dog eat dog world and the royalty had the biggest say in anything. Due to his fathers falling health it was getting close to the crowning ceremony, where the prince eats the father while he dies. In his society the minds of the people are connected by a mind link. Being an all male society, the more dominant males have royal blood in their veins and have better control over the others, acting as the queen bee of the planets hive. While the weaker males have little to know royal blood and are the worker bees. Ek'ork was next in line to take over the crown , which is know as the nexus. The Nexus is the hub for the mental links, which is why the kings get older and older as the years go on. So the previous king will find another 'proper' male and they would grow an egg using both of their genes. This is how Ek'ork came to be, his father (mother) was a warrior and fought in the many different wars waged by his people, while his other father (father/the king) has been ruling for 1000 years. He has just reached maturity and was now fit for the crown and just as he finished eating his father alive and accepting the Nexus, his world puffed out its last breath. Everything was falling apart and now as king Ek'ork had made the decision to leave, grabbing his only reaming father and trusted advisers, he left the little red world and watched it explode. HE could feel the instant deaths of millions of his people and it was a pain he will never forget. They found Earth by accident and thought it was a world easily inhabited. So they landed in secret and soon began to watch the humans before striking. There were only about 250 of his people left and after 5 years of observation they strike. What he did not know was that they had been found out and the humans were ready for him. 3 years of long war later and his population had been dropped down to 65. He called for peace and bought it with advanced technology and money. After the war he bought he and his people their 'humanity' and American Citizenship he took up home in Lochwell. He was, is, and will be an impatient man so he did not really get human customs and traditions until he ate one. This is how his people relay information form other people. They did not even speak English or any other Earth language until he ate his first human. WGUF-What Got You Famous: After the war and a few years of living in Lochwell, Ek'ork was called in by the president for a 'check-up' and followed suit. He went ot the white house and met the previous president, an arrogant man who did very many disrespectful looking things to Ek'ork's POV. Growing enraged by the minute Ek'ork finally snapped and ate the man. The first human he every ate was the president of the united states and he did it in a savage manner. Blood and leftover body parts could be seen throughout the Oval Office. He was apprehended on the spot and sent to ICF for permanent incarceration. His people were not reprimanded though and still run his gang on the outside. Equipment: He has a war suit that he wears during combat. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents:His people are naturally strong in nature, being able to life ten times their weight like ants, they also have their own martial arts system. He was trained by a warrior and bred for combat. His strikes are hard and he can kill anything in 10 different ways or more. He is a hunter and has instincts like one. Due to him having the Nexus his brain usage jumps to 75%. This gives him prime control over his own body. He can control two different things, his density. Making himself as light as a feather, giving him flight, or as heavy and hard as a star, giving him an added punch. Ek'ork can phase through objects as well bye reducing his density to allow him to go through solid objects, or vice versa. Weakness: Ek'ork is a King of his people, this mean a lot. The Nexus is a heavy burden and even though he will not die for many thousands of years (due to low population) Using the Nexus is a great burden and a last resort. After it gets used he needs time to recover from fatigue, duration depending on how long he has been using. He is not bullet proof by any means, only when he is using the Nexus, but during normal combat he can be shot and cut and broken like anyone else. Also his massive structure is a problem in many cases, small confined spaces are not his forte and he sends people do that for him. Secret Hideout: The Mothership of his people is hidden some where in the Pacific ocean, but their base of operations and only access point is in a bar owned by him. Relationships:

D'autres étaient sortis. Beaucoup d'entre eux se sont déjà révélés aussi ennuyeux que le précédent. Nihil était déçu. Il semblait que ce qu'elle attendait d'être un groupe de criminels professionnels était un groupe d'idiots flamboyants. L'une d'elles, une petite femme tatouée, lui a dit de "vivre". Elle n'a pas tenu compte de la suggestion, au lieu de crier. Une autre femme s'était adressée à elle. Celui-ci se cachait derrière elle, suppliant pour sa protection. Quel mensonge flagrant. Même si c'était la vérité, elle s'en ficherait. "Si vous échappez à nous, vous n'êtes pas sans défense." Elle a été tout ce qu'elle a dit en réponse. Elle ne s'intéressait pas à perdre du temps avec eux, elle s'intéressait à l'évasion. Avant elle s'était laissée capturer parce qu'elle avait abandonné ses buts, mais maintenant avec le pouvoir de ce 'M. Il y avait de l'espoir que ses ressources pourraient la mettre à la portée de Dalton Brook. Elle n'avait qu'à jouer. À l'heure actuelle, de plus en plus de robots descendaient sur eux. Elle ne s'en souciait pas. Elle a plutôt mis ses yeux sur le tunnel à vent, leur évasion. C'était assez facile de contourner les gardes. Au-dessous d'un torrent d'eau et de masses s'élevait. Ils n'étaient pas les seuls échappés, mais il semblait qu'ils étaient les seuls que M. Sinister avait prévu de survivre. Nihil ne perdrait plus de temps ici. D'abord, elle sauta, se déplaçant à une vitesse impraticable. Elle atterrit fermement sur les épaules d'un des robots de nombreux nouveaux gardiens de robots. Le robot a essayé de la jeter mais elle l'a gardée. Elle a placé ses mains contre sa tête, saisissant la zone encochée au sommet de sa tête, lui donnant une bonne prise. Elle exerça une pression sur ses épaules, tira sur sa tête, et sauta à nouveau tout en tenant bon. La tête est venue de manière nette dans ses mains. Elle l'a examiné momentanément, puis l'a jeté de côté. Elle était déjà au tunnel à vent. Elle a sauté, laissant les rafales la porter vers le haut.

Emma Summers | Nihil Age: 29 Gender: Female Species: Human History: In the year 1986 a new kind of weapon was bred in the wind-swept desert of Afghanistan. The pressure of the Cold War has been on a steady rise, and it soon exploded in conflict. The Russian invasion of Afghanistan created a new warzone for the US to fight a proxy war against communism. Naturally they sided against Russia, supporting the Afghani Mujahideen. This war served as the backdrop of a highly illegal and highly unethical experiment conducted in the dark depths of the US Military-Industrial Complex by a secret group of researchers, unknown to all but a very select number of US Government officials. The question was simple: How does one create the perfect soldier? The first solution was technological: A serum that greatly increased the physical capabilities of a solider, additionally bestowing them with a number of 'super powers' that would aid them in their job. The second was much darker. In science there is an experiment that is considered taboo. Dubbed "The Forbidden Experiment". What would happen to someone if they were deprived of exposure to language of any sort? The researchers designed an evocative experiment: A child deprived of human contact. Taught by machines. Gradually exposed to the world through video and picture. Kept in peak physical condition. Raised by technology to be a soldier that had no regard for human life or their own life, instilled with unflinching obedience. Combined with their newly invented 'super-serum' this child was to be the ultimate soldier. The child had no name, but the researchers gave her a nickname: Nihil. A Latin word best described as meaning 'the absence of anything'. Nothingness. It was at the age of twelve that Nihil was given her first mission. The Soviet–Afghan War was already over, but the Cold War was still on and researchers were eager to see the fruits of their labor. An operation was called by the general who was privy to the details of the experiment, buried in layers of deniability. The mission was simple: Capture a Soviet outpost. It was a task for a group of highly trained soldiers. Instead a little girl was sent in. The mission, needless to say, was a success. Nihil proved to be highly capable in combat, and it seemed that all the programming and experimenting had indeed created the perfect soldier. As time went on the US's 'secret soldier' went on more missions, always proving successful against the most unlikely of odds. Every time it was the same: She'd receive her orders, be dropped into the hot zone, carry out her mission, exfiltrate, and then return to isolation, or to the training room connected to her cell, but she still always never saw a single person. The only times she had human contact was through the scope of a rifle. The only voices she heard where the screams of her targets. But something had to give, the shroud of isolation couldn't be kept forever. There was one variable that the researcher's couldn't control: Themselves. They weren't bad people... or maybe they were, but they felt remorse. Some of them were unable to handle the kind of research they were doing. Some were entirely uncaring, seeing Nihil as nothing more than a subject. But almost all of them were quelled by their paycheck. Almost. One of them faced the ultimate struggle: Love. One of the researchers who spent countless hours observing Nihil came to feel a strange paternal affection for the girl who he had twisted into a soldier. It happened slowly, but it happened nonetheless. One day Nihil was sitting in her cell, as she always had, when something unexpected came through the slit in the door that had always delivered only food: A flower, and a note. The clean, white, sterile, surgical cell, devoid of anything but the basic necessities of life and a computer screen through which she had been educated had suddenly been invaded by a small speck of color. The facility rose in a panic. Their carefully controlled experiment had suddenly been thrown askew. The never anticipated one of their own going so far in mutiny. Nihil picked up the note, felt the paper. The words which she had only ever seen etched into a computer screen. Researchers scrambled. She couldn't read it, they couldn't let her. It would likely destroy their work. As the mutinous researcher had been carried away, the door to Nihil's cell opened and for the first time she had seen a face on the other side of it. A stern face, a human face, reaching for the note. Suddenly her world had been thrown into question. Thoughts that never came to her, question that she had never come to ask. Who was she? Who were they? What are they? Who are the people she killed? Why did she exist? Something snapped inside her. She understood that they did something wrong to her, the note made it clear. The girl easily overpowered the researcher, slamming his face against the wall and leaving a bloody smear. Their experiment was over. How could it succeed? No one can stem the very basis of human nature. They had reached too far. The girl they bred for war, of course, had no problem escaping from their confines after that. What was once a sterile research lab was sullied by blood. No one in the research staff, not one of the guards, nor one of the numerous other unholy experiments, not one of the janitors, or the maintenance workers, or the soldiers lived. They had created a monster. An unfeeling monster that wanted nothing more than to feel. As she emerged from the depths of the facility she emerged into a unknown environment. She had only ever known desert and mountains and the lab. This place was different. The mountains reached taller, scraping against the sky above. The ground was not sand, but concrete. Around her stood none of the 'Soviets' she had been taught were the enemy. Instead she was surrounded by people. Unfamiliar people. Numerous people, countless people. They stared at her: A teenage girl soaked in blood, carrying a rifle, clothing tattered. One of them called the police. Nihil was already gone, running away into a world she knew very little about. Soon after that she found herself taken back into the fold of the US Military. Escaping wouldn't be that easy. It had been something they had prepared for. They could track her, of course. But things were different as she returned. She came to learn the name of the general in charge of the experiment: Brook. General Dalton Brook. He, like many of the researchers, came to see that the experiment was a mistake, so he extended an offer to reintegrate her into society with support from to government. The price was simple: Nihil's secrecy. No one would know where she came from. She wanted to know what life was like outside of confinement. She agreed. She was soon re-educated, placed into an apartment, taught how to live like a 'normal' person. They gave her money. They gave her freedom. They gave her a name, Emma. They even let her join the VA. She was technically still a veteran, after all. But it wasn't enough for her. How could it be? She soon came to recognize what they took from her. What she could never get back. She was still a warrior, no matter what they did. She still couldn't feel like any other person. She still couldn't know what it was like to really be normal. So she disappeared, again. This time she made sure they couldn't follow. She used her powers to escape, again, and never looked back. She also promised herself one thing: She would exact revenge upon General Dalton Brook. After that she slipped into the criminal underworld. By day she kept on her mask: The mask of a normal person, pretending to feel the emotions she could never feel. By night she was a rouge. Her powers made her a natural fit. She still only knew how to be a soldier. Assassination was her trade. She still felt nothing when she took a life. She felt no remorse. She wanted to hurt the people who hurt her and the people who didn't hurt her. She wouldn't be satisfied until everyone bled. But one thing still kept her sane. One thing kept her from being a psychopath: The memory of the flower and the note she had received from the one person who had loved her. The note she still kept with her. The note no one else would ever see. Part of her wanted to hurt, but part of her wanted to feel. Part of her wanted to discover the emotions she never knew. As the years went on she felt her life become meaningless. She only lived to live. The feeling still wasn't there. She came to realize he joy that she once thought she felt when she killed was false, engineered by the researchers. She still wanted to kill Dalton Brook, but it seemed unattainable. He was half a world away. She felt trapped. And then one day during her 'late night activities' she was caught by a hero. Captain Power. She could've escaped. It would've been easy with her powers. But she gave up. She let herself get caught. He was confused, but took her in. And that was it. She was sent to prison, buried behind layers of security designed to prevent her escape. She couldn't be stopped. Ironically her powers made escape quite easy for her. But she didn't care. It was just like old times. "I can leave whenever I want." Personality: Nihil is devoid of emotion. She strives for it, but it's always out of reach. She's only felt emotion twice: Hatred for the people who authorized the experiments conducted on her, and a small moment of happiness hen she read a letter penned by the only person who has loved her. She is almost entirely apathetic towards existence, only driven by her goal to kill General Dalton Brook. She has no friends, has never tried to make any friends, and is seemingly unable to make friends. How can someone with no emotion have friends? She's entirely confident in her abilities, convinced that nothing can stop her, no matter how incorrect that might be. She rarely speaks, and isn't very easy to work with, instead preferring to operate solo. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Nihil's principal talent is mastery with almost all forms of weaponry. She is a highly skilled marksman, able to use a sniper rifle to make shots that no normal human can make. She has a supreme reaction time and can slow her breathing to the point where it is almost impossible to discern if she is actually alive. Her senses are also highly heightened, furthering her skill as a marksman. Her skill with guns is so great that she can shoot the individual blades of a helicopter while they are in motion. She has been trained in the art of 'gun-kata', a form of martial arts that integrates hand to hand techniques with gunplay and the statistical study of a gunfight, allowing her to very accurately predict and then react to the patterns that her enemies will use, making her a very deadly foe against groups of enemies. She is of course, by extension, highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. The serum given to her also has imbued her with more 'super-human' abilities. She is more durable than an average person, able to survive a number of gunshots or a long fall, has strength comparable to a man twice her size. One of her principal abilities is they power to move at speeds that are almost imperceptible, appearing as little more than a blur. Additionally she can jump much higher than the average human, around the height of 20 feet. This allows her supreme mobility, letting dart quickly across the battlefield in a blink of an eye. Weakness: Nihil's first weakness is her highly heightened senses. Although this at first seems to strictly be an advantage she is prone to sensory overload, extreme smells or loud sounds can have highly adverse effects on her. Additionally it is worth nothing that although she is more durable than the average human, unlike many super humans she is still very susceptible to gunshots or other physical damage. She might be durable, but she is very far from invulnerable. Finally the super-serum has had some adverse effects on her. She is prone to intense migraines, which in the past has not served her well in battle. The serum may have more negatory side-effects that remain unseen. Secret Hideout: Nihil has no secret hideout, only a shitty apartment, Relationships: The only feeling Nihil has for any person is the hate she feels for the General.

Rose était un peu derrière les autres. Elle attendait que quelqu'un aide à se débarrasser du cercle de sel qu'elle ne pouvait pas passer. Enfin, quelques déboires du combat étaient venus et ont brisé le cercle lui permettant de s'échapper. Rose sourit à ce moment-là en marchant à travers la pause. Un garde robot était venu pour essayer de l'arrêter, mais elle a pu saisir certains des débris d'autres robots et pomper le robot avec. À ce stade, elle a vu un peu de combat se poursuivre devant elle. Elle a pris un souffle avant de marcher sur le mur et puis le plafond commençant à marcher sur le plafond capable d'éviter certains des robots entièrement parce qu'ils ont essayé sans défense de sauter et de l'attraper pour seulement se rendre compte qu'ils étaient trop lourds pour sauter sur elle. Rose est finalement arrivée dans le tube d'air après avoir passé plusieurs des autres. Elle avait les mains derrière le dos tout le temps qu'elle faisait son chemin vers le tube. Elle était pieds nus aussi bien mais ça ne semblait pas la déranger. Si l'un des gardes avait été humain alors Rose aurait pu juste les manger, mais hélas tout ce qu'ils avaient était des robots et ils ont goûté terrible. "Je déteste vraiment les robots, ils ne s'amusent pas." Rose a dit qu'elle s'approchait du tube d'air où elle s'est jetée après avoir chuté du plafond et atterri sur ses pieds. Si l'un des détenus avait même entendu parler du film "The Bloody Rose" alors ils ne seraient pas exactement qui elle était, comme elle était le sujet de ce film.

Name: Rose Grinda Alias: Bloody Rose Age: Looks 16 is actually around the age 500 years old Gender: Female Species: Witch Personality: Rose is a very quiet girl for the most part. However when provoked she will start to scream like a banshee and act erratically sometimes walking on the ceilings even. One her favorite ways to lure in pray is start crying to attract attention to herself, then once her victim comes in close enough she executes whatever plan she may have for that person, be it eating them, or making them see their worse night mare. Rose has no actual goal other than to cause misery to everyone she deems a deserving of facing misery. History: Rose was born in the town of Salem just before the witch trials began. She had a loving family however her mother was later accused of witch craft and burned at the stake. After witnessing this Rose ran into the forest soon getting herself lost. She eventually found a cave that was blocked off with many warning signs. She went into the cave despite the warning signs seeing it as shelter. As she went deeper into the cave she noticed many different glowing crystals. All of them were glowing red, and seemed to glow brighter when she got closer to them. As Rose went to sleep that night she started to hear voices, many of them offering kind words to her. The voices even taught Rose various things, one of them was what they called “The oath of Joy.” Which was actually a ritual where one paints a symbol onto their hands and stomach then recites a few lines before being possessed in exchange for immense power. After being possessed Rose returned to Salem now a full blown witch of immense power. She killed those who had wronged her mother, she killed each of them in dark places however that weren’t in the public eye. Some were killed at brothels, others killed in taverns. Once Rose finished her business in Salem she left the town that was now in utter chaos accusing each other of being witches. Rose continued to live as an urban legend in various places for the next 500 years, showing misery to others who came in her path, and killing and eating those she deemed a threat. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Rose was made famous through the urban legends of her luring in and terrorizing victims who then spent the rest of their lives in mental institutes. She really became famous however when there was a horror movie made about her that was extremely popular, it was called “The Bloody Rose.” Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Rose can be torn apart but she will always live through it, however she can be killed through burning her however keeping her still for that is the hard part. Rose also has various magical abilities, one of them being that she can change her body into that of a Creature with a giant mouth that can eat a person in two bites. Rose can make various objects in a room float as long as they are the size of a small lamp. Another power of Rose is illusions as well as levitation. Weakness: Fire is her most well-known weakness however she has another weakness of being trapped by circles of salt, or just salt in general. Salt prevents her from using her abilities as well. Relationships:

Karate Bastard s'est moqué des autres détenus qui étaient libérés. Une femme reniflante, quelque chose d'extraterrestre, une autre femme qui semblait plus que capable de ses propres mains, une femme qui avait le courage de lui dire quoi faire, d'autres qui ne l'intéressaient pas. Des super-pouvoirs. Ils l'ont arnaqué. Keith avait passé vingt ans à travailler dur pour développer ses capacités, ces monstres avaient tout simplement le pouvoir qui leur avait été remis par une écurie de génétique. Il grandit encore plus mal en éliminant la première poignée de gardes avant d'avoir assez de temps pour s'adapter à son nouvel environnement. Cependant, sa fronce s'est scindée en un large sourire alors que d'autres gardes commençaient à tomber du plafond et à se montrer menaçants sur lui. Enfin, un combat qui en vaut la peine. KB s'est assez bien souvenu de ses instructions : il a dû faire sauter ses dagues jusqu'à l'arbre et se déplacer vers le haut. Un cracker d'un plan. Mais à son avis, cela faisait trop longtemps qu'il avait un bon punch-up, ne serait pas blessé de secouer la rouille. Le premier des robots de garde s'est jeté sur lui, scintillant pourpre dans les feux rouges d'urgence. Le karaté Bastard sauta dans les airs, tournant une totale shersault sur la tête de la garde, atterrissant gracieusement derrière elle. KB a pris une seconde pour assumer la position des boxeurs de la digue du Nigeria, avant de lancer l'un des coups précis et puissants de cette discipline particulière. Un kiai haut et surlong sorti de ses lèvres comme son poing se déchira dans le dos du garde et sortit de la poitrine du robot. Le robot n'a pas pu ressentir de douleur, bien sûr, car KB a retiré son poing du trou qu'il a encore tourné et a tenté de le combattre, en battant lentement un poing. KB sourit dans la joie alors qu'il écrase les paumes des deux mains simultanément dans les côtés de la tête du robot- le téléfon, à une capoeiriste. La tête de métal s'est effondrée vers l'intérieur dans une averse d'étincelles, écrasée comme une boîte de soude vide, tandis que le gardien tomba sur le sol avec un claquage retentissant. Karate Bastard a soudain senti les bras froids d'un autre garde venir l'embrasser de derrière, l'envelopper dans un câlin d'ours dans l'intention de le ramener physiquement dans sa cellule. Peu probable. "Bit d'un chien, n'est-ce pas, mon pote?" Il a demandé au robot alors qu'il saisit les poignets des deux bras et se jetait en avant dans un autre en grande partie inutile coulis-et-rouleau. Les bras en acier du robot se sont arrachés facilement des prises, laissant la garde impuissante comme KB pirouetted et a commencé une vicieuse routine à deux bâtons d'escrime sur le robot avec ses propres bras. KB a été presque déçu par la petite quantité d'abus qu'il a enduré avant de tomber. "Piece de pisse", a-t-il commenté à personne en particulier. "Trop facile." Ça avait été un peu amusant d'entraînement, mais KB s'est rendu compte que c'était le moment de faire quelques pistes. Les alarmes sonnaient, ce qu'il rappelait de l'orientation, ce qui signifiait que les planchers étaient inondés. KB n'avait pas l'intention de se noyer. Il s'est arrêté assez longtemps pour récupérer sa chemise perdue. Pas à porter, bien sûr, mais à le déchirer rapidement dans plusieurs petites bandes et les vent ensemble dans une corde utilisable. Il a attaché une extrémité à chacun des poignets des bras du robot coupé, puis a donné à l'arme quelques twirls expérimentaux. Ça le ferait. En tuant son nunchaku improvisé sous son bras, KB courut vers le puits, où plusieurs des autres détenus évadés faisaient déjà leur chemin vers le sommet. Certains d'entre eux pourraient faire des alliés pratiques, du moins pour le temps qu'il a fallu pour sortir de cette prison. Ce n'est peut-être pas une mauvaise idée de rester proche pour le moment. En s'élançant, il sentit le vent le fouetter vers le haut, vers un autre combat. Les choses étaient en train de se lever, c'est sûr.

Name: Keith Blackwell Alias: Karate Bastard Age: 36 Gender: Male Species: Human Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him. History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program. But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha. The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated. Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate. From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave. Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated. In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly. Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him. Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country. Relationships: None.

Riley a regardé la jeune fille avec des boucles noires, demandant une protection - et quelle était cette odeur sur son souffle? Ça sentait suspectement du cuivre. Elle a cambré un sourcil dans l'inquisition, comme la femme grinçante qui s'était emparée de sa proposition a dit quelques mots courtois avant de s'embarquer pour partir. Riley a tourné son sourire vers la fille qui s'est évanouie. Elle avait déjà vu le même truc, fait par des filles qu'elle avait connues dans une vie passée qui voulaient un peu de relâche. « Les points de sympathie ne s'étendent généralement pas bien parmi la plupart des Rogues », a-t-elle proposé avec un shrug, qui commence déjà à tourner sur son talon. "Lady a un point cependant, ne semble pas que tu sois impuissant si M. Sinister t'a choisi à la main." Reculant lentement dans la bataille, Riley lui brailla le bras droit comme un fouet et sentit son sourire s'élargir tandis qu'elle sentit la chaleur familière chatouiller autour de sa paume. Avec sa main non-inflammatoire, elle a salué la fille. "Désolé, je suis désolé. Frappe-moi une autre fois quand on n'est pas en pleine guerre des robots. Je vous verrai de l'autre côté, presque sûr que vous y arriverez." Avec ces mots jetés à l'eau, Riley se retourna, et se dirigea vers le pire de l'affrontement. Même si la fille ne le faisait pas, les mots de Riley ne seraient pas retenus contre elle. Elle a volé un regard en arrière, avant de se concentrer entièrement sur ce qui se trouvait devant elle. Mais non, sûrement ils ne perdraient personne à la première étape. Sa main droite enflammée et enflammée, Riley a fait un rapide saut à travers l'épaisseur des robots - la plupart d'entre eux déjà engagés dans le combat - esquivant gentiment hors du chemin quand les whirs mécaniques se sont dardés pour l'attraper. Elle a réussi à passer à mi-chemin quand elle sentait que des talons en acier s'enferment autour de son bras. Elle a grognonné, et a essayé de l'arracher, mais bien sûr que non. Avec sa main droite, elle a saisi l'articulation fine du membre robotique, et senti le métal froid se réchauffer de façon alarmante. En quelques secondes, Riley s'enfuit et regarda que le bras du robot s'écroulait, fondu au coude. Elle venait d'en faire quelques autres quand un autre robot s'est présenté devant elle, d'une manière ou d'une autre plus méchant que celui d'avant. Il s'en est sorti une fois de plus, mais Riley a sauté hors de sa portée, contournant son bras tendu pour serrer sa main entre ses plaques métalliques. Ses doigts se sont éparpillés à l'intérieur, arrachant le plus de fils qu'elle ait pu trouver, essayant de trouver quelque chose de vital et explosant sa main dans le feu quand elle l'a fait. À la fois, le robot a commencé à court-circuiter et à surchauffer, et ce n'était pas longtemps avant qu'il s'effondre dans un tas à ses pieds. Complètement satisfaite de son feu, elle l'a éteinte, et sprintée pour le tube qu'elle avait vu le reste monter. Avant qu'un robot ne puisse lui faire une prise de onzième heure, elle se mit à vomir, et sentit la bouffée d'air la fouetter.

Name: Riley Pielwood Alias: NA Age: 20 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: Snarky and with a love for sharp humour, Riley wouldn’t immediately come across as psychotic to those she meets. Fun-loving and highly appreciative of a few chuckles, Riley makes careless remarks and laughs whenever she will. Though bright and energetic, she hides her claws and filed teeth behind her wide smile, tucked away until her hackles have been raised. Her laughter is bark-like and sharp, as is her bite. She likes teasing people and ribbing them in good fun, but nowhere near as much as she enjoys seeing an expression ranging from dismay to horror to panic to pain unfurl over a face, and knowing she has put it there. She enjoys herself a fair dose of chaos, might instigate it now and then, but she has found that dropping in during the second act isn’t all too bad either. She has an intense weakness for challenges too, and can’t stand being bored, especially if mundane people let her down and fail to fulfill her amusement quota. Sarcasm and sardonicism keep her entertained during lull periods. She doesn’t particularly need to see blood to be satisfied – hasn’t got much of an appetite for it, to be frank – but she will draw it to prove a point if need be. Vindictive, she can get childishly petty and vengeful when she doesn’t get her way. Needless to say, she is not the most mature, but she will do anything for her little sister Naomi. History: Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. It was a crumbling union of two unfortunate souls too prideful to separate that Riley witnessed as a toddler, loathed as an child and overlooked as an adolescent. It helped matters none when her mother got pregnant again and Riley got herself a younger sister at nine. Of course, it was left to Riley to look after the thing right after it was weaned. It took all of six months for her to get attached to little Naomi, but once she began to feel warmth uncoiling in her stomach when looking at the ankle-biter’s rosy cheeks and guileless gummy smile, she was stupidly loyal to a baby. By then, she had gotten herself into a few scuffles, though nothing serious. She would return home with bloody knuckles and bruises blooming anywhere imaginable and her baby sister would brush her chubby grasp over the tender spots on Riley’s skin like a whisper. Their parents had never been big on gentle physical touch, and Riley absolutely lived for those moments. She never lost a fight, and came home daily to coo over Naomi as the dull aches slowly pulsed into faded muscle memory. Their parents slowly spiraled further and further away, eventually becoming so detached and in need of remedy that the dining table was empty more often than not, as they spent their days languishing in numb, alcohol-induced limbos. That however didn’t bother Riley as much as how bone-dry Naomi’s bottle was getting, and when Naomi got a fever Riley was thrown into absolute panic. She considered it a miracle her sister hadn’t gotten sick earlier – the darkened flat hadn’t been feather-brushed in years, much less properly cleaned, and Riley’s cheeks were growing gaunt and hollow to keep Naomi’s plump but almost, it would seem, to no avail. Riley could see it all – the hunger, the pain – diminishing to naught as she perched owlishly by the crib, desperately clinging onto Naomi’s pudgy fist as she screamed and her face turned ruddy and her little voice choked on her own tears. The next morning in school, a boy passed a mindless comment that sent Riley rocketing off her seat. She was sick with worry, and the boy was a brainy bespectacled thing who deserved all her resentment because he came from a house that wasn’t falling apart and parents with a love as deep as their wallets. He couldn’t even fight her off with his own fists. Instead, he begged her to stop and tried to sweeten the plea with money. Riley almost scoffed, until she realised what he was offering and plucked him off the ground. He meekly handed her five dollars, but a shaking of his shoulders and a snarl in his pasty face raised the sum to a princely fifteen. With that money, Riley was able to buy milk formula for Naomi. Given another two recesses and a whole playground full of potential victims with cushy families, Riley could pay for a trip to the doctor’s. She attracted strange stares in the waiting room, as she cradled a squalling baby in knobby arms and with cheeks smudged as dark as soot, but she glared at the receptionist and nurses and patients who were all just blockades between Naomi and the doctor until they tore their eyes to the ground. Naomi got better, but Riley continued to bully the kids, until the pantry was stocked up again and Riley herself began to fill out. When she was twelve, upperclassmen who had seen her exploits during recess where the teachers couldn’t see invited her to play truant with them. She surveyed them warily at first, until they mentioned money. By the time Riley was thirteen, she had become a bully outside of the playground, and ran around with a gang of youths who were all older than her but headed in the same direction. Rogues had already started becoming an issue then, and these gangly adolescents with enough tar in their lungs to reline roads and tattoos snaking around their bodies like vices fantasised living lives of obscene wealth, play, and skullduggery. They got up to mischief on a daily basis; Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. Even if the gang was majorly made up of dim bulbs and dull tools, Riley was saving up handsomely, and they made her laugh and lightened her heart even if they lived a story set against the most grim of backgrounds. Plus, her thick-as-thieves associates in malice would have gladly jumped a bullet for Naomi, now at four a cute rascal with a smile to melt even the ringleader’s heart and enough naivety to shame Riley, and she was grateful for any protection they could offer, now that she had gotten herself involved in risky business. But she lived every day laughing and playing with her sister, running around and wreaking havoc around town with teenagers as mad and starved for the intangible as her, and it was a good life to live. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. But because the one above was too long, I added in this summarised version, because I can understand it would be a pain to read through the whole thing. Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. She later had a little sister by the name of Naomi at the age of nine, who came to care intensely for. She would often get into fights in school, but always came home to Naomi and for that she was grateful. Their parents then stopped providing for them, and it worried Riley that Naomi was getting less and less fed. When Naomi got a fever Riley was worried sick, and after beating up a rich boy in school realised she could extort money from her classmates, using what she unjustly earned to buy milk formula for Naomi, pay for her health, and feed the family again. When she was twelve, she became involved with a gang of youths who were all older than her but filled to the brim in the head with fantasies of being rogues. Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. She stayed on because she was earning and learning, and running amok with these people lifted her spirits. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. What Got You Famous: The same problem happened; I'm so sorry. And she did. She did do her job, got herself paid and told to rest on her laurels until something else came along and they called on her duty again. She did her job several times over, and did it well even if it would make her stomach turn. But she overcame her squeamishness quickly enough, and only pursed her lips when she did her job. But somebody else didn’t. Somebody else screwed up, and Riley was awakened one night by Naomi’s screaming, her parents’ shouting, and the door to her room being kicked down. She was seventeen. A seventeen-year-old girl caught in her bed in nothing but boxers and a singlet, eyes still bleary from sleep and squinting into the spotlight shone on her, as her little sister cried at the doorway, held back by parents who now gave their undivided attention. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly what the ARGO team had been expecting when they crashed into her house on an overnight mission to round-up members of a rogue organisation they had just dismantled, because there was a beat of absolute silence from the officers – armed with impressive weaponry and decked out in bulletproof vests and suits which all looked overdone now – before they started to order her to the ground, voices ricocheting in the cramped room. When Riley failed to comply, one of them reached forward to roughly drag her off the bed. But it had been a long time since Riley had slept, sure of her safety. Before the officer could even blink, she had dragged the serrated edge of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow into the flesh of his underarm. Howling, he let her go, falling back and failing his arm so that blood flew everywhere. Pandemonium peaked, and Pandora’s box opened in that room itself as voices exploded and rifles were whipped into the hunter’s crouch, aimed right at her heart. Another soldier tried to advance, and the hand holding the dagger twitched to right beside her ear, ready to be thrown. Caught in this stalemate, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who broke free of her parents’ hold to push against the back of an officer’s legs, desperate to get through, crying for Riley even though her entire front was splattered with another man’s blood. The officer turned sharply then, every instinct lit and every nerve strung high, and swung the barrel of his rifle down as he peered at Naomi. It was aimed right at her sister. I cannot lose her. With a flick of her wrist that was too easy – so familiar, so simple – Riley threw the dagger. It embedded itself deeply in the chink of armour that had been revealed as the soldier craned his neck downwards. In a spray of blood from the back of his neck, the soldier gave a last sputter and fell. A body was flung at her, pinning her at once against the floor. Riley landed on her back, the breath flattened out of her. She started to wrestle with the man, scratching at his face and knocking his visor askew, all the while hearing the high-pitched shrieks of Naomi. She made a claw-like shape with her hand, whipping it forth to rake her nails down the man’s face. Unexpectedly, the man yowled anew when tongues of flame licked his face. His comrades who had scrambled to save the fallen life whirled around to find Riley struggling to her feet, gazing in awe at her right hand now swallowed in fire. She looked up, to see soldiers with eyes full of intent to bring her down, and waved her arm around, a torch that roared with life as she yelled, “Stand back!” Obstinately, the team advanced, and she flung her hand at them. Fire sprung to life behind a man’s ears, and he scrambled to beat it out. But try as he might he continued to burn. New screams filled the room, and hesitantly the team began to recoil. There was a window just paces away from where Riley stood. She was just about to leap for it, when she heard Naomi – all screams now dead – whimper, “Make it stop.” It was enough to strike Riley dumb; that pause was enough for what remained of the force to bring her down and innovatively bag and handcuff her hands. But she remained limp, lifeless, beneath them, hearing on endless repeat Naomi’s plea. Once she was hauled upright to be taken away, Riley bent to Naomi’s level long enough to say goodbye, before she was heaved into an armoured truck; before she could say – hypocritically – stay out of trouble, be good; before she could hear her sister burst into tears again. Riley’s story gained renown. After all, a girl whose hand spontaneously combusts into flame is never conventional. Reporters craving a juicy story martyred her when word got out how subdued she became once she heard her little sister call out for her. The efforts to make her a saint only intensified when a journalist shallowly researched her background to hit upon the sheer depth of Riley’s care for Naomi. But it was all useless, because Riley was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, locked away somewhere by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content, and no amount of media press was ever going to get her out. Naomi worked with the organisation for a while, fully aware that it was nasty business but getting over her qualms about it for the money she and Naomi were dependent on. But then somebody made a mistake, and an ARGO team came to round up members of the rogue organisation they managed to dismantle. They kicked down their way into her room before the eyes of her parents and Naomi. They woke her up abruptly, and when one of them tried to roughly drag her off the bed, she cut him with the dagger she slept beneath her pillow. Both parties conscious that the other was dangerous, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who pushed against the back of an officer’s legs, trying to get to Riley. The officer turned at the push, and swung his rifle in such a way that the barrel was aimed at Naomi. Afraid at once of losing her sister, Riley threw the dagger and it cut into the back of the soldier’s neck. One of the men pinned her to the floor, and while trying to fight him off, Riley’s hand burst into flame, causing him to yowl and fly back. Riley used her hand now aflame to ward them off, and set a man’s ears on fire from a distance. This gave the rest of the team cause to pause, and while Riley thought about jumping out the window as the men all burned at her feet, she heard Naomi whimper, “Make it stop.” The fight left Riley then, and she was immediately hauled away. Her story gained renown, for the sheer shock factor of Riley’s inflammatory powers, and the selling point that was her love for her sister. Riley however was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, and locked away by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content. Equipment: Daggers. Lots and lots of daggers. She has a belt to carry rows of them like teeth, but she lost it when she was taken into custody from her home. But she has plans to fashion a new one from scratch if need be. Powers/Abilities: Knife-handling. Riley can severely injure anyone with a blade in hand, and even out of hand. Her daggers always fly in the trajectory she wants. She can control flame as well. Fire will burst to life in her palms, or fingertips, or a flammmable object at a reasonable distance - Riley enjoys being able to light candles without having to get up. She can put out a fire if she wills it, and adds in a little of her own fire as well. Her brand of flame is very difficult to put out too. Riley likes to joke that pouring milk over it helps, though the actual trick is to deprive it of oxygen. On a large-scale however that would prove problematic. She can also increase the temperature of her skin to an alarming pitch, so as to scald and give first-degree burns to anyone who tries to grab her. But she can’t sustain too high a temperature for too long; Riley has enzymes too that she doesn’t want denaturing. Weakness: Mention harm to Naomi, and if she thinks you can make good on that promise, she will suppress herself. (If not, it will only enrage her) Drenching her with water would work well to stop her from committing more arson too, I guess. Secret Hideout: Old, and rustic, the tree-house stands in the tree-tops, desolate and away from traffic. It used to be an old haunt for vagabonds and the way-less, and it's just right for Riley if she wants to be alone to think, or if she wants to kip a night. Relationships: None so far with rogues or heroes, but she loves her sister Naomi dearly. She knows a few rogues who carved some names for themselves but ever since being locked away she hasn't heard from them. She has contacts, but they're all far away in her hometown, and distant from the years apart.

Nataliya imaginait des vacances au Pérou. Il serait chaud(il n'a jamais été chaud ici. Plus elle était froide, plus son métabolisme était lent, moins ils devaient la nourrir) et elle serait très ivre. Elle ne se souvenait pas de la dernière fois qu'elle s'est saoulée. Son corps l'a brûlé et elle était en prison. Ils n'ont pas vraiment eu l'heure heureuse ici et pas d'humains pour soudoyer juste une vraie vodka russe. Dans son Pérou, elle avait beaucoup de Vodka russe, peut-être plus qu'en Russie elle-même. Dans le vrai Pérou, ils étaient un manque honteux de Vodka, quelque chose qu'elle corrigerait quand elle sortirait de là. En parlant de ça, elle a regardé que son trey de nourriture était livré, avant que sa nourriture était censée être livré. Elle s'est levée et a traqué le PDA avant de l'attraper. Elle écouta le premier message et décida de ce qu'il fallait faire. Elle l'a encore tapé avant de le mettre dans son soutien-gorge et a regardé à l'extérieur de sa cellule. Nataliya était curieuse, c'est la seule raison pour laquelle elle a accepté. Son frère l'aurait sortie tôt ou tard, ou au moins transférée dans une prison de sécurité inférieure. Après tout, personne ne connaissait l'étendue de ses capacités, pas même elle. Tout ce qu'ils savent c'est qu'elle était rapide, mais rapide n'était pas assez pour la garder ici avec les avocats à sa disposition. Pourtant, c'était intéressant et Nataliya s'ennuyait. Elle avait une imagination merveilleuse, elle a gardé pour divertir pendant des heures sur la fin, mais même il avait ses limites. Sa porte de cellule s'est ouverte mais elle a attendu quelques minutes avant de sortir de sa cellule. Elle n'était pas une combattante, donc elle a attendu qu'elle ait un chemin clair vers les tubes avant de décoller, elle était là dans dix secondes et elle est montée dans le tube jusqu'au

Name: Nataliya Naryshkina Alias: Kotek Age: 26 Gender: Female Species: Enhanced human Personality: Nataliya Naryshkina is manipulative, and adjusts herself to her chosen victim. However if she is in between victims she can be anywhere between a range of sweet and coy, or sarcastic and biting. Depends on how much she likes you. She likes to have a good time, though. She also is obsessed with watching people go insane before they die. She plays games, but she also has the occasional urge just to watch blood spill from their body. History: Nataliya Naryshkina was born into former Russian royalty and acted the part. Her brother, who is a current high ranking politician in Russian politics, raised her after her mother died at her birth and her father disappeared. She was raised with a silver spoon in her mouth and she acted like it. At least until she met Henry. Henry was an American scientist, going to a convention in Moscow who literally ran into her as she was making her way towards the hotel to meet her brother for lunch. It wasn't until the next day when they were introduced, since Sergei, Natia's brother, had ties to the company. He was unintentionally charming and Natia couldn't help but fall in love. She married Henry after dating for two years, when she was 21 years old. She moved to America with him, and got a job within one of her family's companies. It seems like they never left the honeymoon stage and were contemplating having kids. Until she saw him slipping something into her nightly tea. He claims it was just honey but she dug in a little more. Made some calls, did some digging. It turns out he was developing a prototype that, like a steroid, would make her stronger however it also improved her senses, her metabolism, and made her faster. These changes we also permanent as it was DNA altering. This would have been fine if the drug didn't have the unfortunate side effect of removing her inhibitions and erasing her moral compass. She wasn't angry but she wasn't going to let him get away with this so she started to poison her husband. It was slow, over several months, but it would slowly denigrate his mind, making him go insane. Eventually he killed himself, and she inherited his fortune, as well as her own. She had her brother set her up so she could quit her job but so she would be wealthy for the rest of her life, both legally and in various offshore accounts. If she the drug didn't have the lasting affect it did, this would be the end of Natia's story. However, her psychopathic tendencies stayed with her and over the next year and a half she killed thirty people. Men or woman, she didn't discriminate or have a type. The only mistake they made was that they decided to sleep with her. She would administer a poison, using a small injection usually(like how you administer Ricin) so they don't feel it and it would cause their brain to slowly shut down before they became vegetative. Then the fun would begin. Natia liked to see how much blood would pour out until the heart stopped and the blood didn't move. She got up to 2 pints before she was caught. Her capture was simply bad luck, she managed to seduce a superhero with a tolerance for most drugs. She didn't really mind though, she figured every villain has to spend at least a months in jail. She'd get out soon enough anyways. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Better senses, better metabolism, stronger, faster Weakness: She's only human, a taser will put her down or a bullet or anything sharp and pointy. She's also obsessive, if she has a target or a goal, she won't quit until she does it and it's gotten her in a trouble a few times because of that. It's mostly a hideout, since it's not in her name but rather her brother's who's a Russian politician with lots of lawyers and a lot of ability to keep the police away. However she will occasionally allow others to meet in someone of the more secret rooms. For a price of course. Relationships: Her brother, a Russian politician, who will not get her out of jail because if she wanted to learn how to be successful, she needed to learn how to be discreet with her urges. The Russian mob has several families in it she's close to, or at least respect her for her family name and brother.

Sentiment de sa fierté dûment assaillie alors que les deux robots explosaient dans ses mains Semyaza retira les bras et se tourna vers la passerelle vers le puits, maintenant épais avec des robots et d'autres prisonniers. Il regarda sur le côté, vers l'eau qui monte rapidement. Autant qu'il voulait rester un moment et montrer à ces humains la différence entre lui-même et leurs Idols pathétiquement faibles, il ne voulait vraiment pas sortir d'ici. Sa cape s'élançait derrière lui comme s'il était pris dans une soudaine tempête de vent avant de se déformer et de s'endurcir. Il a donné à ses ailes quelques rythmes d'entraînement pour se familiariser avec le sentiment d'eux avant de donner un grognement satisfait avant de donner un coup de pied au sol sur la passerelle vers l'arbre d'air. Ses yeux clignotaient et soudain il tirait des faisceaux d'énergie sombre alors qu'il volait, en foulant la passerelle avec un feu laser qui jette une trace d'explosions dans son sillage. On dirait un effet spécial stupide, comme s'il avait été vu tiré dans l'air par des fils juste avant une série d'explosifs préréglés sur le pont, mais les morceaux et les corps qui s'étaient effondrés dans la boisson attestent de l'efficacité de son attaque. Puis il mit ses ailes en arrière et plongea dans la porte, se levant à nouveau une fois qu'il était avec un autre grand battement.

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

Le vent rugissait autour de lui alors qu'il montait vers le haut, et les cellules, les allées et les lumières clignotantes des niveaux inférieurs devenaient floues autour de lui. Cependant, comme l'eau s'est déversée dans la prison, elle a aussi touché le fond de l'arbre et a été prise dans le courant. La colonne d'air est rapidement devenue une tempête de pluie inversée, l'attrayant à travers sa combinaison de saut et piquant ses yeux alors que les gouttes volaient au-delà. Près du sommet, il a incliné son corps de sorte qu'il a avancé et a pu s'allumer sur le bord même du niveau supérieur. Avant lui allongeait un dôme colossal, ce qu'il supposait être la partie aérienne de la structure de la prison. Il était presque entièrement vide, juste des murs en acier nus en toile avec des poutres de support et éclairé par des ampoules accrochées au plafond par des fils. Chacun d'eux était contenu dans son propre petit dôme réflecteur, de sorte que le sol était recouvert d'une brillance étoilée qui s'étendait à travers des ombres bleues profondes. La chute d'eau à l'envers, derrière lui, commençait à vaporiser du liquide à travers le sol, où il formait des flaques qui glissa faiblement dans la lumière tachetée. Les seules autres choses dans la pièce étaient une porte barrée à l'extrémité et le colosse métallique se levant du centre du sol. Le directeur était humanoïde, mais de façon exagérée. La tour des bords sombres et aigus était surmontée d'une petite tête et de yeux brillants et perlés qui balayaient la pièce avec malice. Il pouvait voir la lueur bleu pâle du powerpack mentionné dans le PDA briller de l'intérieur de la poitrine de la chose, mais il était évidemment bien protégé. La chose s'est levée et a pivoté vers lui, flirtant comme elle l'a fait. Falcon a levé son bouclier de plateau de façon incertaine. Il n'était pas un combattant lui-même, mais sûrement certains des autres qui arriveraient derrière lui le seraient. Celui qui avait parlé au fond du puits, par exemple, avait l'air de savoir ce qu'il faisait.

Name: James Edward Falcon Allias: Falcon Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Human Powers: Falcon can cause objects around him to change size, growing or shrinking into perfect scale replicas of themselves without changing density. A secondary ability allows him to teleport to anywhere he can see. Appearance: Falcon has narrow grey eyes set above a prominent nose and a slim, clean-shaven face. He keeps his dark hair short, and was typically known to go around in a smartly-tailored business suit and tie. His torso is solidly built though not overly muscular, and his long legs take him to a height of 190 centimetres. (Picture to come) History: James Falcon came into his abilities as a young man and, seeing that his powers were less well suited to flying though the skyline fighting criminals, he instead entered the world of business. His talent for growth and long-term strategic thinking saw him rise to prominence at a young age. Because of his belief that superbeings should use their abilities to make the world better, he put much of his wealth funding altruistic projects. He put money into refugee camps and disaster relief, and funded drug research and subsidies where he felt that the government was falling short. As time passed and his business empire grew, his philanthropy also branched out to supporting political campaigns of candidates he felt had good priorities, then to supporting the cases of criminals whose actions he believed were justified, such as those who used dubious methods to expose corruption or exploitation. It was when he was found to be sheltering two of these men in his mansion while police were searching for them that he himself was arrested for obstructing the course of justice and trumped up charges related to his use of financial resources to exert undue influence on politics. James did not resist his arrest and agreed to stand trial, confident in his assertions that the good he did for the world far outweighed the bad and that others would see that and overlook his breaking the letter of the law for upholding its spirit. He was dead wrong. A number of his political and business rivals piled in on the case, pushing for as harsh a sentence as possible, and he was sent to prison for five years. As a regular prison would be unable to hold him and no suitable facility was near to hand, he was extradited and sent to a secure facility designed to hold the most hardened violent supervillains, the ICF. Horrified and insulted by this turn of events, he brooded on his anger and frustration, and so the supervillain Falcon was born. The people who had put him here, he decided, were incompetent fools. He had spent a long time plugging holes in a broken system with his own hard work and donations, but to truly help, much more would be required. The whole system needed to be broken down and rebuilt from the ground up, and the people in charge needed to know what they were doing and be able to see it through. People like Falcon. This would be his new mission in life, and arriving in jail, he had plenty of time to plan. Personality: James Falcon is not an impulsive man. Rather, in all things he prefers a cautious, calculating, strategic approach. To him, knowledge is power and the way to get what one wants is by careful planning and precise execution. He prefers his own company when ruminating on these things and reacts irritably to distraction, though he will happily share his ideas and talk at length at more appropriate times. He is possessed of great determination and drive to reach his goals, and, facilitated by his approach above, has usually been successful. He truly does want to make the world a better place, but this ambition has been twisted by his anger and frustration about the ineffectiveness of government at achieving meaningful changes. He has become proud, vengeful and ruthless. Strengths: Falcon’s most formidable asset is his strong intellect, which allows him to use his abilities to full effect in a number of situations. This is backed up by his sharp senses and good reflexes. Weaknesses: Falcon’s teleportation ability only enables him to move within his line of sight, which limits its usefulness when it’s dark or his vision is otherwise obscured. He can take one other person with him or an equivalent amount of material, but no more. His size altering powers do not work on himself or any other humans. He dislikes being thrust into situations without warning, as his best strength comes from planning ahead and being able to control his environment. Secret Hideout: As mentioned above, Falcon is not from Lochwell City, so he has no current base in the city. What he does have, however, is his emergency Swiss bank account, which he started when he first entered business and has been feeding ever since in case some unforeseen disaster should make the rest of his fortune inaccessible. Equipment: For now, a prison jumpsuit. But just you wait until he can get out and get creative! Relationships: James has immense respect for The Chief, a superhero from his hometown who doesn’t just catch criminals, but spends just as much time using his abilities to be helpful to law-abiding people. This is supering done right, in his opinion. “Superbeings are not bound by the laws of men. We are born with the power to break the laws of nature itself, and are bound to step in and use that power when ordinary systems fail to protect mankind. I spent years trying to prop up the current system and plug its gaps with my powers, never realising that what it was beyond all hope of repair. Similarly, I reject my sentence under your legal code and instead answer to a higher moral law. It now demands that I step in not to uphold civilisation, but to destroy it. I will burn everything down to the bedrock and start over, This time, I will be in charge and I will see things done right.”

Le dôme était sombre et humide. La seule lumière venant des lumières d'inondation et de l'entrée. Au milieu de l'entrée se trouvait Craftchenco. Il était en mode veille en attendant que les détenus essaient de s'échapper. Il s'attendait déjà à ce que les 7 tunnels arrivent. Les Vigil Watchmen sont à environ 30 minutes, donc il n'a dû tenir debout qu'à ce moment-là. Mais il pensait pouvoir gérer ce groupe faible. Le directeur a allumé et a commencé à vérifier tous ses systèmes et fonctions. Il avait des informations sur chacun de ces rogues et était prêt pour le combat. "Alors tu es arrivé jusqu'ici, je suis impressionné. Cela fait longtemps que j'ai eu un vrai défi. Donnez-moi quelque chose à faire, je crois que je commence à rouiller. HA HA!!!!!!" Craftchenco a dit avec un accent épais, robotique, russe. Il regarde le groupe et le relâchement des fouets électroniques et les laisse tomber par terre. Il active ensuite son bouclier et regarde le groupe. "TEMPS POUR LES ROGUES LITTLES!!!" Craftchenco a dit avec une capsule de mousse dans son dos. La mousse couvre l'arbre de l'ascenseur coupant la seule autre sortie dans le dôme. Il charge ensuite le groupe de rogues avec ses jet packs et les balance avec ses fouets.

Name: Ek'ork Alias: The Founder/Eroric (those who cannot say his name call him Eroric) Age: 345 Gender: Male Species: Descender Personality: Ek'ork is a temperamental man. Most of the others of his species are all very respectful of their prince, but the human soon learn that he is quick to snap at any one. Like any prince when he ask for something he expects it no matter what, or there will be sever consequences. When coming to Earth he did not like their customs and traditions at all and had a problem adjusting. His mind is not one so easily conquered. It is vast, unlike humanity who can only use 5-16% of their brain capacity, his people can use up to 60% and it makes them different. They are numb to most human emotions and he does not quiet understand right and wrong just yet. History: Ek'ork lived as a prince on his home world, it was a dying planet and his people knew that, they understood that it was a dog eat dog world and the royalty had the biggest say in anything. Due to his fathers falling health it was getting close to the crowning ceremony, where the prince eats the father while he dies. In his society the minds of the people are connected by a mind link. Being an all male society, the more dominant males have royal blood in their veins and have better control over the others, acting as the queen bee of the planets hive. While the weaker males have little to know royal blood and are the worker bees. Ek'ork was next in line to take over the crown , which is know as the nexus. The Nexus is the hub for the mental links, which is why the kings get older and older as the years go on. So the previous king will find another 'proper' male and they would grow an egg using both of their genes. This is how Ek'ork came to be, his father (mother) was a warrior and fought in the many different wars waged by his people, while his other father (father/the king) has been ruling for 1000 years. He has just reached maturity and was now fit for the crown and just as he finished eating his father alive and accepting the Nexus, his world puffed out its last breath. Everything was falling apart and now as king Ek'ork had made the decision to leave, grabbing his only reaming father and trusted advisers, he left the little red world and watched it explode. HE could feel the instant deaths of millions of his people and it was a pain he will never forget. They found Earth by accident and thought it was a world easily inhabited. So they landed in secret and soon began to watch the humans before striking. There were only about 250 of his people left and after 5 years of observation they strike. What he did not know was that they had been found out and the humans were ready for him. 3 years of long war later and his population had been dropped down to 65. He called for peace and bought it with advanced technology and money. After the war he bought he and his people their 'humanity' and American Citizenship he took up home in Lochwell. He was, is, and will be an impatient man so he did not really get human customs and traditions until he ate one. This is how his people relay information form other people. They did not even speak English or any other Earth language until he ate his first human. WGUF-What Got You Famous: After the war and a few years of living in Lochwell, Ek'ork was called in by the president for a 'check-up' and followed suit. He went ot the white house and met the previous president, an arrogant man who did very many disrespectful looking things to Ek'ork's POV. Growing enraged by the minute Ek'ork finally snapped and ate the man. The first human he every ate was the president of the united states and he did it in a savage manner. Blood and leftover body parts could be seen throughout the Oval Office. He was apprehended on the spot and sent to ICF for permanent incarceration. His people were not reprimanded though and still run his gang on the outside. Equipment: He has a war suit that he wears during combat. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents:His people are naturally strong in nature, being able to life ten times their weight like ants, they also have their own martial arts system. He was trained by a warrior and bred for combat. His strikes are hard and he can kill anything in 10 different ways or more. He is a hunter and has instincts like one. Due to him having the Nexus his brain usage jumps to 75%. This gives him prime control over his own body. He can control two different things, his density. Making himself as light as a feather, giving him flight, or as heavy and hard as a star, giving him an added punch. Ek'ork can phase through objects as well bye reducing his density to allow him to go through solid objects, or vice versa. Weakness: Ek'ork is a King of his people, this mean a lot. The Nexus is a heavy burden and even though he will not die for many thousands of years (due to low population) Using the Nexus is a great burden and a last resort. After it gets used he needs time to recover from fatigue, duration depending on how long he has been using. He is not bullet proof by any means, only when he is using the Nexus, but during normal combat he can be shot and cut and broken like anyone else. Also his massive structure is a problem in many cases, small confined spaces are not his forte and he sends people do that for him. Secret Hideout: The Mothership of his people is hidden some where in the Pacific ocean, but their base of operations and only access point is in a bar owned by him. Relationships:

Rose entra dans la pièce seulement pour voir les autres et ce qui semblait être leur ennemi. Il avait l'air très intimidant avec ses fouets. Il a dit quelque chose à propos de s'ennuyer. Il semblait terriblement excité pour un robot, bien sûr cela signifiait seulement que le plaisir n'était pas encore venu. Si cette chose avait des émotions, alors elle pourrait lutter contre elle. Elle a fait un pas d'avance sur les autres avec un sourire sur son visage. Elle a mis une main sur sa bouche et a commencé à rire un peu. "Sept sur un est un peu injuste, n'est-ce pas?" Rose a dit sourire. Ses yeux brillaient de rouge vif alors que son corps se transformait en celle de son autre Forme plus puissante physiquement. Elle l'a ensuite accusé d'éviter les fouets et d'essayer de l'attraper pour le saisir dans un câlin d'ours. Elle savait qu'elle ne pouvait pas le tuer seule, mais elle pouvait au moins le tenir pour les autres.

Name: Rose Grinda Alias: Bloody Rose Age: Looks 16 is actually around the age 500 years old Gender: Female Species: Witch Personality: Rose is a very quiet girl for the most part. However when provoked she will start to scream like a banshee and act erratically sometimes walking on the ceilings even. One her favorite ways to lure in pray is start crying to attract attention to herself, then once her victim comes in close enough she executes whatever plan she may have for that person, be it eating them, or making them see their worse night mare. Rose has no actual goal other than to cause misery to everyone she deems a deserving of facing misery. History: Rose was born in the town of Salem just before the witch trials began. She had a loving family however her mother was later accused of witch craft and burned at the stake. After witnessing this Rose ran into the forest soon getting herself lost. She eventually found a cave that was blocked off with many warning signs. She went into the cave despite the warning signs seeing it as shelter. As she went deeper into the cave she noticed many different glowing crystals. All of them were glowing red, and seemed to glow brighter when she got closer to them. As Rose went to sleep that night she started to hear voices, many of them offering kind words to her. The voices even taught Rose various things, one of them was what they called “The oath of Joy.” Which was actually a ritual where one paints a symbol onto their hands and stomach then recites a few lines before being possessed in exchange for immense power. After being possessed Rose returned to Salem now a full blown witch of immense power. She killed those who had wronged her mother, she killed each of them in dark places however that weren’t in the public eye. Some were killed at brothels, others killed in taverns. Once Rose finished her business in Salem she left the town that was now in utter chaos accusing each other of being witches. Rose continued to live as an urban legend in various places for the next 500 years, showing misery to others who came in her path, and killing and eating those she deemed a threat. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Rose was made famous through the urban legends of her luring in and terrorizing victims who then spent the rest of their lives in mental institutes. She really became famous however when there was a horror movie made about her that was extremely popular, it was called “The Bloody Rose.” Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Rose can be torn apart but she will always live through it, however she can be killed through burning her however keeping her still for that is the hard part. Rose also has various magical abilities, one of them being that she can change her body into that of a Creature with a giant mouth that can eat a person in two bites. Rose can make various objects in a room float as long as they are the size of a small lamp. Another power of Rose is illusions as well as levitation. Weakness: Fire is her most well-known weakness however she has another weakness of being trapped by circles of salt, or just salt in general. Salt prevents her from using her abilities as well. Relationships:

Les flammes de l'enfer, c'était un robot terrifiant. Un humain méfiant aussi, ce qui avec son sens apparent de l'humour et le plaisir qu'il semblait prendre dans son travail. Un ingénieur de l'IA quelque part dans le monde méritait une augmentation, pensait-il. De retour dans le monde réel où le robot essayait de le tuer, il y avait beaucoup mieux à penser en ce moment. Falcon est resté avec les autres voyous, regardant le robot se méfier, son bouclier improvisé encore levé. Cette machine vient de rayonner, et il était sûr qu'il n'allait pas la charger. Ce n'était pas pour dire qu'il ne pouvait pas l'attaquer. Il avait juste besoin d'être subtil. Une machine comme celle-ci aurait beaucoup de pièces mobiles qui fonctionnent parfaitement de concert pour permettre une précision aussi mortelle, sans parler de la complexité de ses systèmes électroniques. Une interruption de l'un de ces systèmes délicats pourrait affecter les performances du robot s'il le faisait bien. Le robot a fait un pas en avant, et au fur et à mesure qu'il se déplaçait, il a vu des engrenages tourner dans son articulation du genou. Il a choisi l'un d'eux et l'a légèrement cultivé. Le cig maintenant serré fortement contre ceux qui l'entourent modifier leurs alignements aussi bien. Si trop de tension était mise sur cette jointure, ils pourraient facilement verrouiller ou casser entièrement si le robot mettait beaucoup de puissance à travers cette jambe. Sa cible suivante était un câble sous le bras du colosse. Il l'a réduit un peu, de sorte que le soutien raccourci ne permettrait pas au bras de fouet de s'étendre complètement. Il s'arrangerait à un arrêt de quelques pouces de court, encore légèrement courbé. Il espérait que cela pourrait jeter un peu ses attaques. Il était petit, mais tout ce qui a augmenté ses chances d'échapper à cette arme en valait la peine. De plus en plus audacieux maintenant, il a contacté les lanceurs et les canons du robot. Il a légèrement réduit leurs barils. Les changements étaient minuscules, à peine quelques millimètres de différence de diamètre, mais si sa connaissance de la balistique tenait, le ricochet réduit suffirait à arrêter les balles et à les bloquer à l'intérieur du canon. L'un des autres voyous (il suppose que c'était ce qui était, ses yeux avaient été sur le robot) a chargé la bête, donc Falcon a pris un léger respirateur pour voir si son travail avait été efficace. Il doutait que le robot l'aurait remarqué, mais si c'était le cas, alors ce ne serait que lorsqu'il était trop tard et qu'il s'était dépassé.

Name: James Edward Falcon Allias: Falcon Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Human Powers: Falcon can cause objects around him to change size, growing or shrinking into perfect scale replicas of themselves without changing density. A secondary ability allows him to teleport to anywhere he can see. Appearance: Falcon has narrow grey eyes set above a prominent nose and a slim, clean-shaven face. He keeps his dark hair short, and was typically known to go around in a smartly-tailored business suit and tie. His torso is solidly built though not overly muscular, and his long legs take him to a height of 190 centimetres. (Picture to come) History: James Falcon came into his abilities as a young man and, seeing that his powers were less well suited to flying though the skyline fighting criminals, he instead entered the world of business. His talent for growth and long-term strategic thinking saw him rise to prominence at a young age. Because of his belief that superbeings should use their abilities to make the world better, he put much of his wealth funding altruistic projects. He put money into refugee camps and disaster relief, and funded drug research and subsidies where he felt that the government was falling short. As time passed and his business empire grew, his philanthropy also branched out to supporting political campaigns of candidates he felt had good priorities, then to supporting the cases of criminals whose actions he believed were justified, such as those who used dubious methods to expose corruption or exploitation. It was when he was found to be sheltering two of these men in his mansion while police were searching for them that he himself was arrested for obstructing the course of justice and trumped up charges related to his use of financial resources to exert undue influence on politics. James did not resist his arrest and agreed to stand trial, confident in his assertions that the good he did for the world far outweighed the bad and that others would see that and overlook his breaking the letter of the law for upholding its spirit. He was dead wrong. A number of his political and business rivals piled in on the case, pushing for as harsh a sentence as possible, and he was sent to prison for five years. As a regular prison would be unable to hold him and no suitable facility was near to hand, he was extradited and sent to a secure facility designed to hold the most hardened violent supervillains, the ICF. Horrified and insulted by this turn of events, he brooded on his anger and frustration, and so the supervillain Falcon was born. The people who had put him here, he decided, were incompetent fools. He had spent a long time plugging holes in a broken system with his own hard work and donations, but to truly help, much more would be required. The whole system needed to be broken down and rebuilt from the ground up, and the people in charge needed to know what they were doing and be able to see it through. People like Falcon. This would be his new mission in life, and arriving in jail, he had plenty of time to plan. Personality: James Falcon is not an impulsive man. Rather, in all things he prefers a cautious, calculating, strategic approach. To him, knowledge is power and the way to get what one wants is by careful planning and precise execution. He prefers his own company when ruminating on these things and reacts irritably to distraction, though he will happily share his ideas and talk at length at more appropriate times. He is possessed of great determination and drive to reach his goals, and, facilitated by his approach above, has usually been successful. He truly does want to make the world a better place, but this ambition has been twisted by his anger and frustration about the ineffectiveness of government at achieving meaningful changes. He has become proud, vengeful and ruthless. Strengths: Falcon’s most formidable asset is his strong intellect, which allows him to use his abilities to full effect in a number of situations. This is backed up by his sharp senses and good reflexes. Weaknesses: Falcon’s teleportation ability only enables him to move within his line of sight, which limits its usefulness when it’s dark or his vision is otherwise obscured. He can take one other person with him or an equivalent amount of material, but no more. His size altering powers do not work on himself or any other humans. He dislikes being thrust into situations without warning, as his best strength comes from planning ahead and being able to control his environment. Secret Hideout: As mentioned above, Falcon is not from Lochwell City, so he has no current base in the city. What he does have, however, is his emergency Swiss bank account, which he started when he first entered business and has been feeding ever since in case some unforeseen disaster should make the rest of his fortune inaccessible. Equipment: For now, a prison jumpsuit. But just you wait until he can get out and get creative! Relationships: James has immense respect for The Chief, a superhero from his hometown who doesn’t just catch criminals, but spends just as much time using his abilities to be helpful to law-abiding people. This is supering done right, in his opinion. “Superbeings are not bound by the laws of men. We are born with the power to break the laws of nature itself, and are bound to step in and use that power when ordinary systems fail to protect mankind. I spent years trying to prop up the current system and plug its gaps with my powers, never realising that what it was beyond all hope of repair. Similarly, I reject my sentence under your legal code and instead answer to a higher moral law. It now demands that I step in not to uphold civilisation, but to destroy it. I will burn everything down to the bedrock and start over, This time, I will be in charge and I will see things done right.”

Donc, seulement sept d'entre eux l'avaient fait. Maintenant que le puits avait été scellé et que les étages inférieurs étaient inondés, il semblait que ce serait la totalité de la prison. Maintenant, c'était juste une question de passer devant le directeur, un autre putain de robot de Drongo. Les vraies personnes étaient-elles trop chères? KB secoua la tête. Cette monstruosité était tout ce qui se tenait entre lui et la liberté. La jeune femme s'était soudainement transformée en bête à cornes et était maintenant aux prises avec le directeur. Bien que KB n'était pas un planificateur stratégique, il avait eu assez de combats pour penser clairement et calmement aux faiblesses de son adversaire. La déceit et l'analyse étaient des compétences vitales. L'autre homme, qui ressemblait un peu à celui d'un millionnaire qui avait été partout dans les nouvelles pour une raison quelconque, semblait faire quelque chose au robot, bien que ce qui n'était pas immédiatement apparent. Une sorte d'hexagone, peut-être. Un robot qui était gros et lourdement blindé devait être très lourd. Cela signifiait une pression sur les articulations, qui devait accommoder ce poids massif. Alors que les deux béhémoths luttaient, Karate Bastard se précipita vers l'avant avec un cri, s'échappant doucement d'un fouet battant et fouettant les nunchakus qu'il avait improvisés des bras d'un des gardes. Avec cela, il a lancé un éclair rapide de frappes avec son arme, visant principalement les genoux et les chevilles du directeur. S'il pouvait faire tomber ou même trébucher la bête métallique, cela permettrait aux autres de s'empiler et de réduire l'enfoiré à un tas de ferraille d'occasion. En supposant que les autres étaient vraiment bons. Sinon, Karate Bastard pensait qu'il ferait tout le travail lui-même, comme il le faisait habituellement.

Name: Keith Blackwell Alias: Karate Bastard Age: 36 Gender: Male Species: Human Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him. History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program. But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha. The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated. Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate. From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave. Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated. In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly. Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him. Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country. Relationships: None.

Quand la grande bête de métal a balancé ses fouets sur eux, Semyaza a battu de nouveau ses ailes et a tiré vers le toit. Comme l'un des humains est devenu quelque chose d'autre et a commencé à corps le robot et un autre a échoué inutilement aux jambes, il a décidé d'aller droit à la tête du problème. En tombant vers le bas, il jeta ses bras alors que des arcs crépitants d'énergie noire sautaient entre ses doigts. Alors qu'il s'approchait de la tête, l'énergie sauta de ses mains vers la tête des robots.

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

Le courant dans l'arbre d'air transportait Nihil vers le haut. Ils ont émergé dans ce qui semblait être une structure semblable à un dôme. Sept autres s'étaient échappés et avaient déjà engagé le robot qui gardait la sortie. C'était sa première occasion d'examiner leurs pouvoirs, alors elle a pris note. Une autre fille s'est transformée en une créature monstrueuse. Encore un autre semblait être en profonde concentration - il était clair qu'il faisait quelque chose, mais pour l'instant il n'était pas discernable. L'expert en karaté flamboyant jetait des coups de poing et criait. Nihil avait déjà développé une aversion pointue pour lui. Lui et l'autre chose- la créature ailée qui avait crié des machinations de domination wold plus tôt. Au moins, il semblait quelque peu utile. Le reste n'avait pas encore engagé le robot. Quant à Nihil elle-même, elle était encore sans arme, quelque chose qu'elle n'aimait pas - elle était compétente dans le combat de main en main, beaucoup plus qu'un humain normal, mais toujours des armes préférées. Sa première inkling a été de les abandonner. Elle n'en avait pas besoin. Mais elle se souvient encore une fois de M. Sinister. Ses ressources seraient utiles pour ses objectifs. Elle soupirait. On dirait qu'elle se battait avec eux. Elle s'est déplacée à des vitesses extrêmes. Comme le robot a balancé, c'est de gros fouets électroniques qu'elle les a esquivés, tissant entre les cils. Elle était maintenant de l'autre côté du robot, bien qu'elle n'ait toujours pas été décidée sur son plan d'attaque. Elle doutait que ses mains nues serviraient dans la situation, ce qui était mauvais compte tenu de tout ce qu'elle avait était une combinaison de prison et ses mains nues. Au lieu de cela, elle a dardé à l'envers, un peu loin du robot, près de la sortie du dôme. Elle attendait que les autres fassent et ouvrent qu'elle puisse utiliser.

Emma Summers | Nihil Age: 29 Gender: Female Species: Human History: In the year 1986 a new kind of weapon was bred in the wind-swept desert of Afghanistan. The pressure of the Cold War has been on a steady rise, and it soon exploded in conflict. The Russian invasion of Afghanistan created a new warzone for the US to fight a proxy war against communism. Naturally they sided against Russia, supporting the Afghani Mujahideen. This war served as the backdrop of a highly illegal and highly unethical experiment conducted in the dark depths of the US Military-Industrial Complex by a secret group of researchers, unknown to all but a very select number of US Government officials. The question was simple: How does one create the perfect soldier? The first solution was technological: A serum that greatly increased the physical capabilities of a solider, additionally bestowing them with a number of 'super powers' that would aid them in their job. The second was much darker. In science there is an experiment that is considered taboo. Dubbed "The Forbidden Experiment". What would happen to someone if they were deprived of exposure to language of any sort? The researchers designed an evocative experiment: A child deprived of human contact. Taught by machines. Gradually exposed to the world through video and picture. Kept in peak physical condition. Raised by technology to be a soldier that had no regard for human life or their own life, instilled with unflinching obedience. Combined with their newly invented 'super-serum' this child was to be the ultimate soldier. The child had no name, but the researchers gave her a nickname: Nihil. A Latin word best described as meaning 'the absence of anything'. Nothingness. It was at the age of twelve that Nihil was given her first mission. The Soviet–Afghan War was already over, but the Cold War was still on and researchers were eager to see the fruits of their labor. An operation was called by the general who was privy to the details of the experiment, buried in layers of deniability. The mission was simple: Capture a Soviet outpost. It was a task for a group of highly trained soldiers. Instead a little girl was sent in. The mission, needless to say, was a success. Nihil proved to be highly capable in combat, and it seemed that all the programming and experimenting had indeed created the perfect soldier. As time went on the US's 'secret soldier' went on more missions, always proving successful against the most unlikely of odds. Every time it was the same: She'd receive her orders, be dropped into the hot zone, carry out her mission, exfiltrate, and then return to isolation, or to the training room connected to her cell, but she still always never saw a single person. The only times she had human contact was through the scope of a rifle. The only voices she heard where the screams of her targets. But something had to give, the shroud of isolation couldn't be kept forever. There was one variable that the researcher's couldn't control: Themselves. They weren't bad people... or maybe they were, but they felt remorse. Some of them were unable to handle the kind of research they were doing. Some were entirely uncaring, seeing Nihil as nothing more than a subject. But almost all of them were quelled by their paycheck. Almost. One of them faced the ultimate struggle: Love. One of the researchers who spent countless hours observing Nihil came to feel a strange paternal affection for the girl who he had twisted into a soldier. It happened slowly, but it happened nonetheless. One day Nihil was sitting in her cell, as she always had, when something unexpected came through the slit in the door that had always delivered only food: A flower, and a note. The clean, white, sterile, surgical cell, devoid of anything but the basic necessities of life and a computer screen through which she had been educated had suddenly been invaded by a small speck of color. The facility rose in a panic. Their carefully controlled experiment had suddenly been thrown askew. The never anticipated one of their own going so far in mutiny. Nihil picked up the note, felt the paper. The words which she had only ever seen etched into a computer screen. Researchers scrambled. She couldn't read it, they couldn't let her. It would likely destroy their work. As the mutinous researcher had been carried away, the door to Nihil's cell opened and for the first time she had seen a face on the other side of it. A stern face, a human face, reaching for the note. Suddenly her world had been thrown into question. Thoughts that never came to her, question that she had never come to ask. Who was she? Who were they? What are they? Who are the people she killed? Why did she exist? Something snapped inside her. She understood that they did something wrong to her, the note made it clear. The girl easily overpowered the researcher, slamming his face against the wall and leaving a bloody smear. Their experiment was over. How could it succeed? No one can stem the very basis of human nature. They had reached too far. The girl they bred for war, of course, had no problem escaping from their confines after that. What was once a sterile research lab was sullied by blood. No one in the research staff, not one of the guards, nor one of the numerous other unholy experiments, not one of the janitors, or the maintenance workers, or the soldiers lived. They had created a monster. An unfeeling monster that wanted nothing more than to feel. As she emerged from the depths of the facility she emerged into a unknown environment. She had only ever known desert and mountains and the lab. This place was different. The mountains reached taller, scraping against the sky above. The ground was not sand, but concrete. Around her stood none of the 'Soviets' she had been taught were the enemy. Instead she was surrounded by people. Unfamiliar people. Numerous people, countless people. They stared at her: A teenage girl soaked in blood, carrying a rifle, clothing tattered. One of them called the police. Nihil was already gone, running away into a world she knew very little about. Soon after that she found herself taken back into the fold of the US Military. Escaping wouldn't be that easy. It had been something they had prepared for. They could track her, of course. But things were different as she returned. She came to learn the name of the general in charge of the experiment: Brook. General Dalton Brook. He, like many of the researchers, came to see that the experiment was a mistake, so he extended an offer to reintegrate her into society with support from to government. The price was simple: Nihil's secrecy. No one would know where she came from. She wanted to know what life was like outside of confinement. She agreed. She was soon re-educated, placed into an apartment, taught how to live like a 'normal' person. They gave her money. They gave her freedom. They gave her a name, Emma. They even let her join the VA. She was technically still a veteran, after all. But it wasn't enough for her. How could it be? She soon came to recognize what they took from her. What she could never get back. She was still a warrior, no matter what they did. She still couldn't feel like any other person. She still couldn't know what it was like to really be normal. So she disappeared, again. This time she made sure they couldn't follow. She used her powers to escape, again, and never looked back. She also promised herself one thing: She would exact revenge upon General Dalton Brook. After that she slipped into the criminal underworld. By day she kept on her mask: The mask of a normal person, pretending to feel the emotions she could never feel. By night she was a rouge. Her powers made her a natural fit. She still only knew how to be a soldier. Assassination was her trade. She still felt nothing when she took a life. She felt no remorse. She wanted to hurt the people who hurt her and the people who didn't hurt her. She wouldn't be satisfied until everyone bled. But one thing still kept her sane. One thing kept her from being a psychopath: The memory of the flower and the note she had received from the one person who had loved her. The note she still kept with her. The note no one else would ever see. Part of her wanted to hurt, but part of her wanted to feel. Part of her wanted to discover the emotions she never knew. As the years went on she felt her life become meaningless. She only lived to live. The feeling still wasn't there. She came to realize he joy that she once thought she felt when she killed was false, engineered by the researchers. She still wanted to kill Dalton Brook, but it seemed unattainable. He was half a world away. She felt trapped. And then one day during her 'late night activities' she was caught by a hero. Captain Power. She could've escaped. It would've been easy with her powers. But she gave up. She let herself get caught. He was confused, but took her in. And that was it. She was sent to prison, buried behind layers of security designed to prevent her escape. She couldn't be stopped. Ironically her powers made escape quite easy for her. But she didn't care. It was just like old times. "I can leave whenever I want." Personality: Nihil is devoid of emotion. She strives for it, but it's always out of reach. She's only felt emotion twice: Hatred for the people who authorized the experiments conducted on her, and a small moment of happiness hen she read a letter penned by the only person who has loved her. She is almost entirely apathetic towards existence, only driven by her goal to kill General Dalton Brook. She has no friends, has never tried to make any friends, and is seemingly unable to make friends. How can someone with no emotion have friends? She's entirely confident in her abilities, convinced that nothing can stop her, no matter how incorrect that might be. She rarely speaks, and isn't very easy to work with, instead preferring to operate solo. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Nihil's principal talent is mastery with almost all forms of weaponry. She is a highly skilled marksman, able to use a sniper rifle to make shots that no normal human can make. She has a supreme reaction time and can slow her breathing to the point where it is almost impossible to discern if she is actually alive. Her senses are also highly heightened, furthering her skill as a marksman. Her skill with guns is so great that she can shoot the individual blades of a helicopter while they are in motion. She has been trained in the art of 'gun-kata', a form of martial arts that integrates hand to hand techniques with gunplay and the statistical study of a gunfight, allowing her to very accurately predict and then react to the patterns that her enemies will use, making her a very deadly foe against groups of enemies. She is of course, by extension, highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. The serum given to her also has imbued her with more 'super-human' abilities. She is more durable than an average person, able to survive a number of gunshots or a long fall, has strength comparable to a man twice her size. One of her principal abilities is they power to move at speeds that are almost imperceptible, appearing as little more than a blur. Additionally she can jump much higher than the average human, around the height of 20 feet. This allows her supreme mobility, letting dart quickly across the battlefield in a blink of an eye. Weakness: Nihil's first weakness is her highly heightened senses. Although this at first seems to strictly be an advantage she is prone to sensory overload, extreme smells or loud sounds can have highly adverse effects on her. Additionally it is worth nothing that although she is more durable than the average human, unlike many super humans she is still very susceptible to gunshots or other physical damage. She might be durable, but she is very far from invulnerable. Finally the super-serum has had some adverse effects on her. She is prone to intense migraines, which in the past has not served her well in battle. The serum may have more negatory side-effects that remain unseen. Secret Hideout: Nihil has no secret hideout, only a shitty apartment, Relationships: The only feeling Nihil has for any person is the hate she feels for the General.

Riley sortit du parachute, atterrissant sur ses pieds pour voir une énorme machine à soutirer. Ses yeux flippaient jusqu'à la sortie, seulement pour trouver leur unique sortie scellée avec de la mousse. Elle l'évalua rapidement, l'esprit s'attardant à des jours où elle et quelques autres jeunes avaient essayé de brûler du polystérène et comme avec des briquets Zippo dans des entrepôts abandonnés, juste pour regarder la fumée se boucler dans l'air et les étouffer avec des cendres. Rogues s'affrontait du directeur, mais parfois l'un des fouets électriques s'éteignait à des endroits inopportuns. Riley s'est évanouie alors qu'une seule craquait contre le sol sur lequel elle venait de se tenir, laissant derrière elle une cicatrice noircie. Riley s'est cassé les doigts, et a regardé comme une étincelle orange allumée sur le fil: un peu de chaleur excessive pour cajoler l'électricité en se transformant en un feu de craquage qui a léché le fouet. Des gouttes de métal fondu ont commencé à couler de son membre alors que le directeur a essayé de l'enrouler vers lui, mais boiteux et mi-fondu, le bras n'a pas répondu, réduit à un serpent qui a donné un début de vie momentané sur le sol. Elle a laissé son feu faire son travail pendant qu'elle courait vers la sortie. La figure qui s'appelait lui-même le général Semyaza a canalisé un éclair de ses propres munitions vers la tête du directeur. Avant que Riley puisse voir si cela allait détruire l'ennemi bon et propre, elle s'est tournée vers la fille de sérieux comportement qui venait de se tenir à la sortie. "Ne pas se joindre à tout le plaisir?" elle a demandé. Riley a allumé ses doigts et a tenu la flamme au-dessus de la mousse. "Funny, t'a pris pour un branle robotisé." Elle regarda le feu et le blanc enneigé commença à s'enfoncer dans le noir carbonisé. Une cuillerée de fumée s'est levée dans une boucle filetée, mais bientôt la fumée serait épaisse et rapide, si sa mémoire servait. Ce serait quand même un moment avant que la mousse ne fonde et que les Rogues puissent s'échapper. Elle regarda la femme pendant qu'elle étendait le feu à plusieurs points, sentant qu'elle allumait un gâteau d'anniversaire et qu'elle lui offrait la main libre. "Le nom est Riley, comment allez-vous?"

Name: Riley Pielwood Alias: NA Age: 20 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: Snarky and with a love for sharp humour, Riley wouldn’t immediately come across as psychotic to those she meets. Fun-loving and highly appreciative of a few chuckles, Riley makes careless remarks and laughs whenever she will. Though bright and energetic, she hides her claws and filed teeth behind her wide smile, tucked away until her hackles have been raised. Her laughter is bark-like and sharp, as is her bite. She likes teasing people and ribbing them in good fun, but nowhere near as much as she enjoys seeing an expression ranging from dismay to horror to panic to pain unfurl over a face, and knowing she has put it there. She enjoys herself a fair dose of chaos, might instigate it now and then, but she has found that dropping in during the second act isn’t all too bad either. She has an intense weakness for challenges too, and can’t stand being bored, especially if mundane people let her down and fail to fulfill her amusement quota. Sarcasm and sardonicism keep her entertained during lull periods. She doesn’t particularly need to see blood to be satisfied – hasn’t got much of an appetite for it, to be frank – but she will draw it to prove a point if need be. Vindictive, she can get childishly petty and vengeful when she doesn’t get her way. Needless to say, she is not the most mature, but she will do anything for her little sister Naomi. History: Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. It was a crumbling union of two unfortunate souls too prideful to separate that Riley witnessed as a toddler, loathed as an child and overlooked as an adolescent. It helped matters none when her mother got pregnant again and Riley got herself a younger sister at nine. Of course, it was left to Riley to look after the thing right after it was weaned. It took all of six months for her to get attached to little Naomi, but once she began to feel warmth uncoiling in her stomach when looking at the ankle-biter’s rosy cheeks and guileless gummy smile, she was stupidly loyal to a baby. By then, she had gotten herself into a few scuffles, though nothing serious. She would return home with bloody knuckles and bruises blooming anywhere imaginable and her baby sister would brush her chubby grasp over the tender spots on Riley’s skin like a whisper. Their parents had never been big on gentle physical touch, and Riley absolutely lived for those moments. She never lost a fight, and came home daily to coo over Naomi as the dull aches slowly pulsed into faded muscle memory. Their parents slowly spiraled further and further away, eventually becoming so detached and in need of remedy that the dining table was empty more often than not, as they spent their days languishing in numb, alcohol-induced limbos. That however didn’t bother Riley as much as how bone-dry Naomi’s bottle was getting, and when Naomi got a fever Riley was thrown into absolute panic. She considered it a miracle her sister hadn’t gotten sick earlier – the darkened flat hadn’t been feather-brushed in years, much less properly cleaned, and Riley’s cheeks were growing gaunt and hollow to keep Naomi’s plump but almost, it would seem, to no avail. Riley could see it all – the hunger, the pain – diminishing to naught as she perched owlishly by the crib, desperately clinging onto Naomi’s pudgy fist as she screamed and her face turned ruddy and her little voice choked on her own tears. The next morning in school, a boy passed a mindless comment that sent Riley rocketing off her seat. She was sick with worry, and the boy was a brainy bespectacled thing who deserved all her resentment because he came from a house that wasn’t falling apart and parents with a love as deep as their wallets. He couldn’t even fight her off with his own fists. Instead, he begged her to stop and tried to sweeten the plea with money. Riley almost scoffed, until she realised what he was offering and plucked him off the ground. He meekly handed her five dollars, but a shaking of his shoulders and a snarl in his pasty face raised the sum to a princely fifteen. With that money, Riley was able to buy milk formula for Naomi. Given another two recesses and a whole playground full of potential victims with cushy families, Riley could pay for a trip to the doctor’s. She attracted strange stares in the waiting room, as she cradled a squalling baby in knobby arms and with cheeks smudged as dark as soot, but she glared at the receptionist and nurses and patients who were all just blockades between Naomi and the doctor until they tore their eyes to the ground. Naomi got better, but Riley continued to bully the kids, until the pantry was stocked up again and Riley herself began to fill out. When she was twelve, upperclassmen who had seen her exploits during recess where the teachers couldn’t see invited her to play truant with them. She surveyed them warily at first, until they mentioned money. By the time Riley was thirteen, she had become a bully outside of the playground, and ran around with a gang of youths who were all older than her but headed in the same direction. Rogues had already started becoming an issue then, and these gangly adolescents with enough tar in their lungs to reline roads and tattoos snaking around their bodies like vices fantasised living lives of obscene wealth, play, and skullduggery. They got up to mischief on a daily basis; Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. Even if the gang was majorly made up of dim bulbs and dull tools, Riley was saving up handsomely, and they made her laugh and lightened her heart even if they lived a story set against the most grim of backgrounds. Plus, her thick-as-thieves associates in malice would have gladly jumped a bullet for Naomi, now at four a cute rascal with a smile to melt even the ringleader’s heart and enough naivety to shame Riley, and she was grateful for any protection they could offer, now that she had gotten herself involved in risky business. But she lived every day laughing and playing with her sister, running around and wreaking havoc around town with teenagers as mad and starved for the intangible as her, and it was a good life to live. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. But because the one above was too long, I added in this summarised version, because I can understand it would be a pain to read through the whole thing. Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. She later had a little sister by the name of Naomi at the age of nine, who came to care intensely for. She would often get into fights in school, but always came home to Naomi and for that she was grateful. Their parents then stopped providing for them, and it worried Riley that Naomi was getting less and less fed. When Naomi got a fever Riley was worried sick, and after beating up a rich boy in school realised she could extort money from her classmates, using what she unjustly earned to buy milk formula for Naomi, pay for her health, and feed the family again. When she was twelve, she became involved with a gang of youths who were all older than her but filled to the brim in the head with fantasies of being rogues. Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. She stayed on because she was earning and learning, and running amok with these people lifted her spirits. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. What Got You Famous: The same problem happened; I'm so sorry. And she did. She did do her job, got herself paid and told to rest on her laurels until something else came along and they called on her duty again. She did her job several times over, and did it well even if it would make her stomach turn. But she overcame her squeamishness quickly enough, and only pursed her lips when she did her job. But somebody else didn’t. Somebody else screwed up, and Riley was awakened one night by Naomi’s screaming, her parents’ shouting, and the door to her room being kicked down. She was seventeen. A seventeen-year-old girl caught in her bed in nothing but boxers and a singlet, eyes still bleary from sleep and squinting into the spotlight shone on her, as her little sister cried at the doorway, held back by parents who now gave their undivided attention. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly what the ARGO team had been expecting when they crashed into her house on an overnight mission to round-up members of a rogue organisation they had just dismantled, because there was a beat of absolute silence from the officers – armed with impressive weaponry and decked out in bulletproof vests and suits which all looked overdone now – before they started to order her to the ground, voices ricocheting in the cramped room. When Riley failed to comply, one of them reached forward to roughly drag her off the bed. But it had been a long time since Riley had slept, sure of her safety. Before the officer could even blink, she had dragged the serrated edge of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow into the flesh of his underarm. Howling, he let her go, falling back and failing his arm so that blood flew everywhere. Pandemonium peaked, and Pandora’s box opened in that room itself as voices exploded and rifles were whipped into the hunter’s crouch, aimed right at her heart. Another soldier tried to advance, and the hand holding the dagger twitched to right beside her ear, ready to be thrown. Caught in this stalemate, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who broke free of her parents’ hold to push against the back of an officer’s legs, desperate to get through, crying for Riley even though her entire front was splattered with another man’s blood. The officer turned sharply then, every instinct lit and every nerve strung high, and swung the barrel of his rifle down as he peered at Naomi. It was aimed right at her sister. I cannot lose her. With a flick of her wrist that was too easy – so familiar, so simple – Riley threw the dagger. It embedded itself deeply in the chink of armour that had been revealed as the soldier craned his neck downwards. In a spray of blood from the back of his neck, the soldier gave a last sputter and fell. A body was flung at her, pinning her at once against the floor. Riley landed on her back, the breath flattened out of her. She started to wrestle with the man, scratching at his face and knocking his visor askew, all the while hearing the high-pitched shrieks of Naomi. She made a claw-like shape with her hand, whipping it forth to rake her nails down the man’s face. Unexpectedly, the man yowled anew when tongues of flame licked his face. His comrades who had scrambled to save the fallen life whirled around to find Riley struggling to her feet, gazing in awe at her right hand now swallowed in fire. She looked up, to see soldiers with eyes full of intent to bring her down, and waved her arm around, a torch that roared with life as she yelled, “Stand back!” Obstinately, the team advanced, and she flung her hand at them. Fire sprung to life behind a man’s ears, and he scrambled to beat it out. But try as he might he continued to burn. New screams filled the room, and hesitantly the team began to recoil. There was a window just paces away from where Riley stood. She was just about to leap for it, when she heard Naomi – all screams now dead – whimper, “Make it stop.” It was enough to strike Riley dumb; that pause was enough for what remained of the force to bring her down and innovatively bag and handcuff her hands. But she remained limp, lifeless, beneath them, hearing on endless repeat Naomi’s plea. Once she was hauled upright to be taken away, Riley bent to Naomi’s level long enough to say goodbye, before she was heaved into an armoured truck; before she could say – hypocritically – stay out of trouble, be good; before she could hear her sister burst into tears again. Riley’s story gained renown. After all, a girl whose hand spontaneously combusts into flame is never conventional. Reporters craving a juicy story martyred her when word got out how subdued she became once she heard her little sister call out for her. The efforts to make her a saint only intensified when a journalist shallowly researched her background to hit upon the sheer depth of Riley’s care for Naomi. But it was all useless, because Riley was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, locked away somewhere by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content, and no amount of media press was ever going to get her out. Naomi worked with the organisation for a while, fully aware that it was nasty business but getting over her qualms about it for the money she and Naomi were dependent on. But then somebody made a mistake, and an ARGO team came to round up members of the rogue organisation they managed to dismantle. They kicked down their way into her room before the eyes of her parents and Naomi. They woke her up abruptly, and when one of them tried to roughly drag her off the bed, she cut him with the dagger she slept beneath her pillow. Both parties conscious that the other was dangerous, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who pushed against the back of an officer’s legs, trying to get to Riley. The officer turned at the push, and swung his rifle in such a way that the barrel was aimed at Naomi. Afraid at once of losing her sister, Riley threw the dagger and it cut into the back of the soldier’s neck. One of the men pinned her to the floor, and while trying to fight him off, Riley’s hand burst into flame, causing him to yowl and fly back. Riley used her hand now aflame to ward them off, and set a man’s ears on fire from a distance. This gave the rest of the team cause to pause, and while Riley thought about jumping out the window as the men all burned at her feet, she heard Naomi whimper, “Make it stop.” The fight left Riley then, and she was immediately hauled away. Her story gained renown, for the sheer shock factor of Riley’s inflammatory powers, and the selling point that was her love for her sister. Riley however was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, and locked away by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content. Equipment: Daggers. Lots and lots of daggers. She has a belt to carry rows of them like teeth, but she lost it when she was taken into custody from her home. But she has plans to fashion a new one from scratch if need be. Powers/Abilities: Knife-handling. Riley can severely injure anyone with a blade in hand, and even out of hand. Her daggers always fly in the trajectory she wants. She can control flame as well. Fire will burst to life in her palms, or fingertips, or a flammmable object at a reasonable distance - Riley enjoys being able to light candles without having to get up. She can put out a fire if she wills it, and adds in a little of her own fire as well. Her brand of flame is very difficult to put out too. Riley likes to joke that pouring milk over it helps, though the actual trick is to deprive it of oxygen. On a large-scale however that would prove problematic. She can also increase the temperature of her skin to an alarming pitch, so as to scald and give first-degree burns to anyone who tries to grab her. But she can’t sustain too high a temperature for too long; Riley has enzymes too that she doesn’t want denaturing. Weakness: Mention harm to Naomi, and if she thinks you can make good on that promise, she will suppress herself. (If not, it will only enrage her) Drenching her with water would work well to stop her from committing more arson too, I guess. Secret Hideout: Old, and rustic, the tree-house stands in the tree-tops, desolate and away from traffic. It used to be an old haunt for vagabonds and the way-less, and it's just right for Riley if she wants to be alone to think, or if she wants to kip a night. Relationships: None so far with rogues or heroes, but she loves her sister Naomi dearly. She knows a few rogues who carved some names for themselves but ever since being locked away she hasn't heard from them. She has contacts, but they're all far away in her hometown, and distant from the years apart.

Baal ne pouvait pas croire qu'il avait été pris et maintenant a été emprisonné dans un endroit qui a bloqué ses pouvoirs magiques. Les choses n'allaient pas bien, ses cultes avaient besoin de sa direction et de son commandement pour fonctionner correctement ou ils pouvaient s'effondrer. Il espérait que les membres de son culte de haut rang s'occupaient correctement des choses en son absence. En ce moment, son esprit sombre et méchant a pensé à des façons d'essayer d'échapper à cette prision. "Les fous, celui qui a fait cela souhaite qu'ils n'aient jamais été nés mille fois plus" s'est-il dit. Lorsqu'il eut reçu de la nourriture, Baal remarqua qu'il était certain qu'il ne devait pas venir avec son dîner. Le PDA a parlé et donné des instructions sur la façon de l'évasion et celui qui avait envoyé cette chose voulait voir à quel point ils pouvaient bien faire leur évasion. Ce voyou a parlé d'un grand jeu, il ne sait pas la grande puissance que je manie, je pourrais avoir ce cœur idiot si je voulais sortir une fois d'ici, mais peut-être qu'il sera utile quand je découvrirai qui est cet ange gardien, il pensait à lui-même. L'une des portes de la cellule était ouverte et il sentit son pouvoir commencer à revenir, Baal sourit mal. Il était temps de punir les vers mortels qui osaient le garder prisonnier. Il a rapidement excité sa cellule et a vu plusieurs autres prisonniers faire la même chose, ils ont dû aussi recevoir un message similaire de leur ange gardien et faisaient maintenant une évasion similaire. L'un d'eux a crié le temps de conquérir la terre et Baal s'est branlé, pas devant moi ver. Puis les gardiens de robots ont attaqué et Baal a commencé à utiliser ses sorts d'attaque pour tirer de l'explosion de flammes noires, mais ils n'ont pas été aussi efficaces grâce à ces ennemis étant des machines et ne vivant pas et il était dans un état affaibli grâce aux effets de la prison. Heureusement, il y avait d'autres évasions pour aider dans le combat avec les gardes, et Baal a eu recours au sort des bras noirs d'Hastor pour briser le sort. Une fois monté à l'ascenseur, Baal a utilisé son peignoir de vol pour monter l'arbre juste après les autres prisonniers volants et voit un autre robot, plus grand et menaçant que le dernier bloquant leur route d'évasion. C'est alors qu'il a aussi remarqué Rose la sorcière, il l'avait rencontrée il y a très longtemps et devinait qu'elle devait être immortel car aucun humain ordinaire n'aurait pu vivre aussi longtemps et avoir l'air si jeune. Il sourit aux mots des robots et se demanda à quel point cette machine irait bien contre un groupe d'êtres très puissants et malfaisants. Baal a décidé de se retenir et de regarder les autres combattre le robot et de voir si cette chose était vraiment une menace pour tous. Il n'a pas été trop impressionné par l'homme attaquant le robot avec juste son arme improvisée, comme cela ferait vraiment n'importe quoi, et l'extraterrestre est entré avec sa force brute pour aider Rose à s'attaquer à la monstruosité métallique. "Ce sera intéressant" s'est-il dit d'une voix menaçante et grogneuse.

Name: Baal Alias: Lord Baal Age: is actual age is unknown, but he has been around for over 4000 years. Gender: male Species: unknown, appears to be humanoid Personality: Baal is the definition of evil to many, his insidious nature and pleasure in using his powers to bring insanity and chaos over the vast dimensions have made him feared by most. Before he became Lord Baal, he wasn't evil and had a woman he loved dearly, but it was her murder and the death of most of his people that drove to hate those that had robbed him of so much that drove him to make his deal with the godlike demons known as the Dark Ones who were beyond human comprehension. Ever since his pact with the Dark Ones he plunged into darkness and his evil is immense. Baal is extremely cunning and will always try to find ways to manipulate others into doing what he wants. He is amazingly charismatic and persuasive, which is how he has been able to grow his cults on earth. His intelligence and ability to pray upon the human psyche makes him very formidable. Baal will show no mercy to his enemies and will delight in making them suffer as much as possible. He has forced mothers and fathers to watch their children die horribly as punishment for going against him. He has made children see their parents brutally murdered and try to turn them into cult members. Some would wonder why such an evil being could exist, Baal would answer that love was to blame. It was because he loved so much that his hatred made him into what he was now. Baal demands obediance from his followers and will regularly use terror and public killings to demonstrate his power and authority. Baal prefers to use his cult members to do tasks for him if they aren't of great importance and there is only one being he truly fears and that's God. His biggest flaws in terms of a mental weakness is his superiority complex and large ego. History: Baal was born millennia ago to a world very different from our own. It was a world of almost constant conflict and filled with brutality and savagery. His people whose name has slipped from history and memory were engaged in a massive war with the Ozarian empire. Baal grew up in the wake of this horrible conflict and saw many that were close to him die, but he still found love in a woman who called his sun and moon. Unfortunately for Baal she would be brutally murdered by Ozarian forces and made him watch before they tried to kill him. He was however saved by the Dark Ones when they heard his primeval scream of hatred at seeing his beloved killed. The demons made everything around them freeze as if time itself had stopped and then offered Baal the chance to see revenge by making a pact with them in exchange for his soul and eternal devotion. Baal agreed without a second thought thanks to the huge well of hatred inside him, and the Dark Ones give him a piece of their awesome power. Baal felt their black magic flow through him and the power was almost overwhelming. The demons then vanished and time seemed to revert back to normal. Baal immediately unleashed his new power and slaughtered all in his path. When the enemy forces were defeated, Baal saw that they had managed to kill all of his people and he was now the last of them. He soon had his vengeance and wiped out of the Ozarian empire. With his world a war torn wasteland, he sough to establish a new society, one that worshiped the Dark Ones. The demons soon returned to him and told of his quest to spread cults dedicated to them throughout all dimensions and Baal now consumed by his darkness fervently agreed to their task. After attaining the power to traverse dimensions, Baal began to spread the cults of the Dark Ones to many different worlds. Some worlds were too faithful and righteous to conquer, but he was immortal and could wait for a time when they would become weak in faith. Eventually he came this world in the distant past and was worshiped as the god Baal, gaining many much reverence. His cults spread by a large amount, but then the emergence of Christianity saw his cults become obsolete in the wake of the new religion and he dared to not challenge God seeing his great power. Baal decided that he would wait and come back to this dimension when Christianity was less powerful. He waited for thousands of years, but he has now returned. He played a role in influencing the formations of the hellfire clubs during the times of the founding fathers of America and he played a subtle role in the creation satanic cults. With the advent of the scientific age humanity has less faith in the Abrahamic religions and that has given Baal the power to start spreading his cults again. Every action has both a positive and negative reaction. Equipment: He is in possession of a number of powerful magic artifacts with dangerous properties. All of his artifacts are mystically bound to him and he can summon them to and from a sub-dimension when he needs them and they will vanish anyone else tries to use them. Fiend Staff: his demonic looking magical staff helps him focus his insane power and it has the power to transform into archaic weapons such as swords, spears and axes. Knife of Murder: He has ceremonial knife that he uses during rituals, which has the power to pierce the soul when he stabs someone with it. Ring of Gonnar: This ring that he wears in his right index finger allows him to traverse dimensions without the use of rituals. Robe of Flight: the robes he wears give him the ability to fly. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Baal controls incredibly powerful black magic taught to him by extra-dimensional demons and wields immense power that makes him appear to be like a god to his mortal followers. This magic grants him several abilities that he has mastered completely as well as a great number of spells. His knowledge in the black arts and the occult are immensely high. Immortality: he doesn't age and cannot die of old age, which is how he has been alive for thousands of years. The Black Arms of Hastor: This spell creates black demonic spectral arms that will assault his opponents both physically and spiritually. The Black Flames of Ondar: Baal shoots fire that made up of black hellish flames. Unlike ordinary fire it does more than just burn his enemies, it also burns the soul. Shield of Insidiousness: He creates a barrier of demonic spirits that can protect him from physical and spiritual attacks, the power of this barrier is determined by how much magic he puts into it. Nightmarish Illusions: This spell allows Baal to create frightening illusions to scare and distract his opponents. Demonic Force: Baal hits targets with a wave invisible force that can use to either knock things away or draw them closer to him. Fiendish Summoning: he can summon lowly demons from a hellish dimension to attack his enemies. The Eye of Madthros: By channeling a huge amount of magic Baal can assault his opponents' minds with horrifying images and terrible pain. They have to be looking into his eyes. Ritual of Corruption: This occult ritual that includes drinking Baal's blood is done to corrupt initiates in his cult and turn them to evil. It takes an hour to complete, but it's how his cult has grown so large. Mind of The Demon: This spell protects him from having his mind read or assaulted by psychic attacks. Weakness: All things holy can weaken him and silver is always a big weakness that can be exploited if used as a weapon. While his magic is incredibly powerful, it will become taxing on his body if he uses high powered spells for too long. The effects of his spells can be negated with black or white magic that is of greater strength than his power. Secret Hideout: His HQ is a dark castle that is located between dimensions. There are doors that are located throughout the world, but it requires black magic to open. It is guarded by demons and some of his high ranked cult members Relationships: His main relationship is with the Dark Ones and his cults, but he has made many enemies over the course of his reign of terror. The Angels of God: they are a group made up of divine angels and divinely powered followers of the Christian faith. They are his worst enemies and spread out across dimensions to battle his evil cults. Followers of Monotheist religions: Anyone who is believes in Christianity, Judaism and Islam are his enemies and he will try to see all three of these religions destroyed. The Dark Ones: they are extra-dimensional demons that grant Baal is power and they are the only authority that he bows to. They have plans for the multiverse, but it is secret between only them and Baal.

Peu de temps après sa charge et sa balançoire, le bras de bouclier de Craftchenco a été attaqué par une bête. Il a essayé de le secouer, mais son bras de fouet avait été compromis par le détenu identifié comme James Falcon. Sa jambe et ses armes avaient également changé de taille et limité son temps de réponse et son action. Puis Keith Blackwell a commencé à saluer toutes ses articulations vitales, y compris le genou affaibli. Il a pu jeter le rat muté géant sur le côté. Peu de temps après un coup de Blackwell a causé une fissure et une rupture de son équipement de genou élargi et il a commencé à tomber en avant, manquant l'attaque du ciel du général Semyaza de quelques pouces. Il s'est posé sur son bras de bouclier et a grondé ses fouets une fois de plus, presque frapper Riley Pielwood, mais au lieu de cela il a gagné une attaque de feu qui a brûlé la plupart du fouet à un croustillant. Avec un coup de plus de Blackwell ses systèmes donnent et il est éteint. Son arrêt active Phoenix Protocol qui libère les nanites stockées dans son noyau qui réparent ce qui est réparable. Ils donnent aux rogues environ 5 minutes pour se regrouper, la plupart se déplaçant vers la sortie. Ses armes et ses fouets avaient été fixés et sa jambe assez pour qu'il puisse s'y tenir. Une fois qu'il a été opérationnel, ses systèmes se sont retournés. Craftchenco s'est levé rapidement et a affronté le groupe. Il n'a eu que cette dernière chance de les empêcher de partir alors il était temps de devenir sérieux. "Pas plus de gamin qui gâche des enfants." Avec ses opérations à 85 %, il a tiré une grenade fumigène sur le groupe qui a explosé et a couvert son attaque. Il s'est enfermé sur Pielwood et a envoyé une grenade en mousse. Il l'a frappée dans la poitrine et l'a scellée dans une coquille de mousse, la seule partie de son corps non recouverte de la substance solide étant ses mains et ses pieds. Il a ensuite tourné son attention vers Semyaza en l'air et a envoyé ses fouets endommagés après lui. Les fouets ont été gravement endommagés mais les nanites ont obtenu l'électricité et la longueur de travail à nouveau. Une fois les fouets enveloppés autour de l'extraterrestre, il envoya des milliers de volts à travers ses fouets dans le corps des extraterrestres, puis il le jeta à la créature géante. Les deux ont été jetés quelques pieds en arrière. Craftchenco a ensuite localisé Blackwell et a utilisé sa bonne jambe et s'est lancé à l'homme. Il avait l'impression de lui devoir quelque chose alors il l'attaqua avec le bouclier d'abord, le poussa dans le sol causant la bosse au sol en métal. Juste quand il y allait pour plus, quelque chose l'a fait geler. Sauter à quelques pieds de l'arrière était Blackwell couché, il pouvait sentir un virus brisant sa programmation et enlever ses limiteurs. Des pinces sur ses pieds l'ont activé et enraciné dans le sol. Il a été désactivé et transformé en lance-missiles. Le canon à grenade et la mitrailleuse sur ses épaules étaient maintenant pleinement opérationnels. Les limiteurs étaient en place pour rendre Craftchenco aussi dangereux que le gardien de prison ordinaire, mais quand ils ont été enlevés, il était une machine à tuer de sang-froid. Avec le limiteur final supprimé, il était de retour dans sa programmation d'origine, sa programmation WAR Machine. Chaque chose vivante dans la pièce était une cible et devait être éliminée. Il a commencé par tourner sur son axe médullaire, ne faisant que tourner son haut du corps. Ses fouets complètement étendus ont été électrifiés et avec une seule touche passé plus d'électricité à travers le corps que humainement possible à manipuler. Avec les fouets tournant avec son corps, les armes sur ses épaules ont commencé à viser chaque voyou dans la pièce. Brûlures, mousses et grenades fumigènes à tous les rogues. Le lance-missiles sur son bras tirait des missiles sur tout ce qui s'est trouvé dans sa vue larguée. Avec tant de chaos venant de lui, le directeur est devenu inarrêtable, sa seule faiblesse étant le noyau d'énergie sur sa poitrine. Il a maintenu un rythme soutenu pendant qu'il tournait comme un tour de mariage, ne se lassant pas un instant. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ M. Sinister a riposté à l'événement qui s'est déroulé sur l'écran devant lui. Ils l'avaient trop facile alors il pensait que le relèvement du niveau de difficulté rendrait les choses plus intéressantes. Il a piraté la machine et a planté le virus qui le ramènerait à ses anciennes façons de tuer. Craftchenco avait de nombreux protocoles létales différents en place pour chaque situation, mais le protocole WAR Machine était le plus facile qu'il ait pu trouver et celui-ci était quelqu'un n'est pas sorti manquant un bras. Sinister l'a fait pour les tester, non pas leurs capacités ou leur pouvoir, mais leur volonté et leur capacité de travailler ensemble. Il avait besoin de savoir qu'ils étaient ceux pour son plan. S'ils échouaient à ce test, ils mourraient, et la seule façon de réussir serait de coopérer. Sinister s'est levé et a pris son verre de scotch et a regardé sur Lochwell de son penthouse. Cette ville avait besoin d'un changement, d'un nouvel ordre, elle avait besoin d'y faire revenir la peur comme le reste du monde. Mais d'abord il avait besoin de ses candidats pour se prouver, en retirant le jouet surdimensionné étant alimenté par des batteries surchargées.

Name: Ek'ork Alias: The Founder/Eroric (those who cannot say his name call him Eroric) Age: 345 Gender: Male Species: Descender Personality: Ek'ork is a temperamental man. Most of the others of his species are all very respectful of their prince, but the human soon learn that he is quick to snap at any one. Like any prince when he ask for something he expects it no matter what, or there will be sever consequences. When coming to Earth he did not like their customs and traditions at all and had a problem adjusting. His mind is not one so easily conquered. It is vast, unlike humanity who can only use 5-16% of their brain capacity, his people can use up to 60% and it makes them different. They are numb to most human emotions and he does not quiet understand right and wrong just yet. History: Ek'ork lived as a prince on his home world, it was a dying planet and his people knew that, they understood that it was a dog eat dog world and the royalty had the biggest say in anything. Due to his fathers falling health it was getting close to the crowning ceremony, where the prince eats the father while he dies. In his society the minds of the people are connected by a mind link. Being an all male society, the more dominant males have royal blood in their veins and have better control over the others, acting as the queen bee of the planets hive. While the weaker males have little to know royal blood and are the worker bees. Ek'ork was next in line to take over the crown , which is know as the nexus. The Nexus is the hub for the mental links, which is why the kings get older and older as the years go on. So the previous king will find another 'proper' male and they would grow an egg using both of their genes. This is how Ek'ork came to be, his father (mother) was a warrior and fought in the many different wars waged by his people, while his other father (father/the king) has been ruling for 1000 years. He has just reached maturity and was now fit for the crown and just as he finished eating his father alive and accepting the Nexus, his world puffed out its last breath. Everything was falling apart and now as king Ek'ork had made the decision to leave, grabbing his only reaming father and trusted advisers, he left the little red world and watched it explode. HE could feel the instant deaths of millions of his people and it was a pain he will never forget. They found Earth by accident and thought it was a world easily inhabited. So they landed in secret and soon began to watch the humans before striking. There were only about 250 of his people left and after 5 years of observation they strike. What he did not know was that they had been found out and the humans were ready for him. 3 years of long war later and his population had been dropped down to 65. He called for peace and bought it with advanced technology and money. After the war he bought he and his people their 'humanity' and American Citizenship he took up home in Lochwell. He was, is, and will be an impatient man so he did not really get human customs and traditions until he ate one. This is how his people relay information form other people. They did not even speak English or any other Earth language until he ate his first human. WGUF-What Got You Famous: After the war and a few years of living in Lochwell, Ek'ork was called in by the president for a 'check-up' and followed suit. He went ot the white house and met the previous president, an arrogant man who did very many disrespectful looking things to Ek'ork's POV. Growing enraged by the minute Ek'ork finally snapped and ate the man. The first human he every ate was the president of the united states and he did it in a savage manner. Blood and leftover body parts could be seen throughout the Oval Office. He was apprehended on the spot and sent to ICF for permanent incarceration. His people were not reprimanded though and still run his gang on the outside. Equipment: He has a war suit that he wears during combat. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents:His people are naturally strong in nature, being able to life ten times their weight like ants, they also have their own martial arts system. He was trained by a warrior and bred for combat. His strikes are hard and he can kill anything in 10 different ways or more. He is a hunter and has instincts like one. Due to him having the Nexus his brain usage jumps to 75%. This gives him prime control over his own body. He can control two different things, his density. Making himself as light as a feather, giving him flight, or as heavy and hard as a star, giving him an added punch. Ek'ork can phase through objects as well bye reducing his density to allow him to go through solid objects, or vice versa. Weakness: Ek'ork is a King of his people, this mean a lot. The Nexus is a heavy burden and even though he will not die for many thousands of years (due to low population) Using the Nexus is a great burden and a last resort. After it gets used he needs time to recover from fatigue, duration depending on how long he has been using. He is not bullet proof by any means, only when he is using the Nexus, but during normal combat he can be shot and cut and broken like anyone else. Also his massive structure is a problem in many cases, small confined spaces are not his forte and he sends people do that for him. Secret Hideout: The Mothership of his people is hidden some where in the Pacific ocean, but their base of operations and only access point is in a bar owned by him. Relationships:

Nataliya observait la situation depuis un certain temps. Elle n'était pas une combattante, ça ne profiterait à personne, en tout cas à elle-même, d'aller courir là-dedans sans plan. Elle était, cependant, une stratège et une bonne à cela. Elle s'est assise encore quelques secondes, en regardant tout et en prenant. Il n'y avait aucun moyen de déchirer la chose, ça tuerait tous les derniers avant que cela arrive. À ce stade, il tuerait tous les derniers d'entre eux dans les prochaines secondes s'ils n'avaient pas trouvé quelque chose. Elle pensait qu'elle l'avait chronométrée, alors elle a réussi, en essayant d'y aller pour son noyau. Elle l'a presque fait aussi, jusqu'à ce qu'elle soit littéralement frappée avec la mitrailleuse et jetée dans le mur. "Mudok." Natia siffle, clin d'œil en respirant profondément. Elle a peut-être cassé une côte ou deux en faisant ça. C'est ce qu'elle essaie d'aider. Elle n'est pas restée assise, parce que ce serait stupide et Nataliya est beaucoup de choses mais elle n'était pas stupide. Après qu'elle ait repris son souffle, elle s'est levée et a regardé ce que tout le monde faisait, essayant de comprendre ce que son prochain mouvement allait être.

Name: Nataliya Naryshkina Alias: Kotek Age: 26 Gender: Female Species: Enhanced human Personality: Nataliya Naryshkina is manipulative, and adjusts herself to her chosen victim. However if she is in between victims she can be anywhere between a range of sweet and coy, or sarcastic and biting. Depends on how much she likes you. She likes to have a good time, though. She also is obsessed with watching people go insane before they die. She plays games, but she also has the occasional urge just to watch blood spill from their body. History: Nataliya Naryshkina was born into former Russian royalty and acted the part. Her brother, who is a current high ranking politician in Russian politics, raised her after her mother died at her birth and her father disappeared. She was raised with a silver spoon in her mouth and she acted like it. At least until she met Henry. Henry was an American scientist, going to a convention in Moscow who literally ran into her as she was making her way towards the hotel to meet her brother for lunch. It wasn't until the next day when they were introduced, since Sergei, Natia's brother, had ties to the company. He was unintentionally charming and Natia couldn't help but fall in love. She married Henry after dating for two years, when she was 21 years old. She moved to America with him, and got a job within one of her family's companies. It seems like they never left the honeymoon stage and were contemplating having kids. Until she saw him slipping something into her nightly tea. He claims it was just honey but she dug in a little more. Made some calls, did some digging. It turns out he was developing a prototype that, like a steroid, would make her stronger however it also improved her senses, her metabolism, and made her faster. These changes we also permanent as it was DNA altering. This would have been fine if the drug didn't have the unfortunate side effect of removing her inhibitions and erasing her moral compass. She wasn't angry but she wasn't going to let him get away with this so she started to poison her husband. It was slow, over several months, but it would slowly denigrate his mind, making him go insane. Eventually he killed himself, and she inherited his fortune, as well as her own. She had her brother set her up so she could quit her job but so she would be wealthy for the rest of her life, both legally and in various offshore accounts. If she the drug didn't have the lasting affect it did, this would be the end of Natia's story. However, her psychopathic tendencies stayed with her and over the next year and a half she killed thirty people. Men or woman, she didn't discriminate or have a type. The only mistake they made was that they decided to sleep with her. She would administer a poison, using a small injection usually(like how you administer Ricin) so they don't feel it and it would cause their brain to slowly shut down before they became vegetative. Then the fun would begin. Natia liked to see how much blood would pour out until the heart stopped and the blood didn't move. She got up to 2 pints before she was caught. Her capture was simply bad luck, she managed to seduce a superhero with a tolerance for most drugs. She didn't really mind though, she figured every villain has to spend at least a months in jail. She'd get out soon enough anyways. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Better senses, better metabolism, stronger, faster Weakness: She's only human, a taser will put her down or a bullet or anything sharp and pointy. She's also obsessive, if she has a target or a goal, she won't quit until she does it and it's gotten her in a trouble a few times because of that. It's mostly a hideout, since it's not in her name but rather her brother's who's a Russian politician with lots of lawyers and a lot of ability to keep the police away. However she will occasionally allow others to meet in someone of the more secret rooms. For a price of course. Relationships: Her brother, a Russian politician, who will not get her out of jail because if she wanted to learn how to be successful, she needed to learn how to be discreet with her urges. The Russian mob has several families in it she's close to, or at least respect her for her family name and brother.

James Falcon s'accroupit dans un coin, caché derrière son plateau de repas. Après avoir enlevé le robot, le groupe avait gaspillé trop de temps pour se relever, se félicitant prématurément de leur victoire et se dirigeant ensuite vers la sortie. C'était dangereusement stupide, en rétrospection. Il était presque allé retirer le bloc d'alimentation du directeur comme cela avait été suggéré dans le PDA, mais après que le gros reptilien ait marché sur sa tête, il n'avait pas ennuyé. Il s'est juré d'apprendre de l'erreur. La vivacité a conduit à la prise de risques, et la prise de risques a conduit à l'échec. Le pare-plat secoua de nouveau comme une boîte de mousse frappait durement, mais le mur tenait. Il a dû faire pousser le plastique à un mètre d'épaisseur pour se protéger, mais maintenant qu'il avait tenu la mousse finirait par ajouter à la barrière, lui donnant un peu plus de protection. Falcon a osé jeter un coup d'oeil autour du bord pendant un moment, et tout semblait calme. Ses compagnons prisonniers étaient tous en train de se retourner sous l'assaut continu. Tout s'était calmé en bas aussi bien. Les bruits de lutte s'étaient dissipés, de sorte qu'il semblait que les autres prisonniers et robots avaient tous été pris dans la marée montante. Ce qu'il a vu quand il a regardé derrière le puits, c'est que l'eau n'avait pas cessé d'être pompée. Une autre capsule de mousse perdue avait pour la plupart refermé l'arbre après que la première couverture eut été brûlée, mais quelques fissures dans la mousse éjectaient de minuscules jets d'eau en dessous. Peut-être qu'il pourrait utiliser ça. Les fouets du robot craquaient avec de l'électricité, mais s'il pouvait être utilisé dans cette eau, il ferait frire ses propres circuits. Silencieusement, il étendit les sections de mousse autour des trous de pinprick, coupant l'eau. Il aurait besoin de la pression pour continuer à construire ci-dessous en attendant juste le bon moment pour le libérer. Il n'avait pas le moyen de rediriger le geyser qui allait éclater une fois la mousse fissurée, ce qui signifiait qu'il aurait besoin du géant du métal pour se tenir sur son chemin. Il a dû être appâté. "Hé!" Il a crié sur le directeur alors qu'il sortait de derrière sa couverture. "Tu vas rester là toute la journée à gaspiller des balles, ou tu viendras me combattre?" Il a mis l'accent sur le mot ici, essayant d'alerter les autres voyous sur l'importance de déplacer le robot, mais espérons ne pas en alerter la chose elle-même. Si ça sentait un piège, ça ne bougerait pas.

Name: James Edward Falcon Allias: Falcon Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Human Powers: Falcon can cause objects around him to change size, growing or shrinking into perfect scale replicas of themselves without changing density. A secondary ability allows him to teleport to anywhere he can see. Appearance: Falcon has narrow grey eyes set above a prominent nose and a slim, clean-shaven face. He keeps his dark hair short, and was typically known to go around in a smartly-tailored business suit and tie. His torso is solidly built though not overly muscular, and his long legs take him to a height of 190 centimetres. (Picture to come) History: James Falcon came into his abilities as a young man and, seeing that his powers were less well suited to flying though the skyline fighting criminals, he instead entered the world of business. His talent for growth and long-term strategic thinking saw him rise to prominence at a young age. Because of his belief that superbeings should use their abilities to make the world better, he put much of his wealth funding altruistic projects. He put money into refugee camps and disaster relief, and funded drug research and subsidies where he felt that the government was falling short. As time passed and his business empire grew, his philanthropy also branched out to supporting political campaigns of candidates he felt had good priorities, then to supporting the cases of criminals whose actions he believed were justified, such as those who used dubious methods to expose corruption or exploitation. It was when he was found to be sheltering two of these men in his mansion while police were searching for them that he himself was arrested for obstructing the course of justice and trumped up charges related to his use of financial resources to exert undue influence on politics. James did not resist his arrest and agreed to stand trial, confident in his assertions that the good he did for the world far outweighed the bad and that others would see that and overlook his breaking the letter of the law for upholding its spirit. He was dead wrong. A number of his political and business rivals piled in on the case, pushing for as harsh a sentence as possible, and he was sent to prison for five years. As a regular prison would be unable to hold him and no suitable facility was near to hand, he was extradited and sent to a secure facility designed to hold the most hardened violent supervillains, the ICF. Horrified and insulted by this turn of events, he brooded on his anger and frustration, and so the supervillain Falcon was born. The people who had put him here, he decided, were incompetent fools. He had spent a long time plugging holes in a broken system with his own hard work and donations, but to truly help, much more would be required. The whole system needed to be broken down and rebuilt from the ground up, and the people in charge needed to know what they were doing and be able to see it through. People like Falcon. This would be his new mission in life, and arriving in jail, he had plenty of time to plan. Personality: James Falcon is not an impulsive man. Rather, in all things he prefers a cautious, calculating, strategic approach. To him, knowledge is power and the way to get what one wants is by careful planning and precise execution. He prefers his own company when ruminating on these things and reacts irritably to distraction, though he will happily share his ideas and talk at length at more appropriate times. He is possessed of great determination and drive to reach his goals, and, facilitated by his approach above, has usually been successful. He truly does want to make the world a better place, but this ambition has been twisted by his anger and frustration about the ineffectiveness of government at achieving meaningful changes. He has become proud, vengeful and ruthless. Strengths: Falcon’s most formidable asset is his strong intellect, which allows him to use his abilities to full effect in a number of situations. This is backed up by his sharp senses and good reflexes. Weaknesses: Falcon’s teleportation ability only enables him to move within his line of sight, which limits its usefulness when it’s dark or his vision is otherwise obscured. He can take one other person with him or an equivalent amount of material, but no more. His size altering powers do not work on himself or any other humans. He dislikes being thrust into situations without warning, as his best strength comes from planning ahead and being able to control his environment. Secret Hideout: As mentioned above, Falcon is not from Lochwell City, so he has no current base in the city. What he does have, however, is his emergency Swiss bank account, which he started when he first entered business and has been feeding ever since in case some unforeseen disaster should make the rest of his fortune inaccessible. Equipment: For now, a prison jumpsuit. But just you wait until he can get out and get creative! Relationships: James has immense respect for The Chief, a superhero from his hometown who doesn’t just catch criminals, but spends just as much time using his abilities to be helpful to law-abiding people. This is supering done right, in his opinion. “Superbeings are not bound by the laws of men. We are born with the power to break the laws of nature itself, and are bound to step in and use that power when ordinary systems fail to protect mankind. I spent years trying to prop up the current system and plug its gaps with my powers, never realising that what it was beyond all hope of repair. Similarly, I reject my sentence under your legal code and instead answer to a higher moral law. It now demands that I step in not to uphold civilisation, but to destroy it. I will burn everything down to the bedrock and start over, This time, I will be in charge and I will see things done right.”

Rose a été frappée dans le mur. Elle s'est levée après le coup en regardant que la machine semblait être hors de contrôle. D'après ce qu'elle avait remarqué des autres l'homme sans chemise semblait avoir un peu de force, bien qu'il n'était pas si intelligent d'après l'apparence de lui essayant de frapper la machine avec certains faire des nunchucks de quart. Elle ne pouvait pas parler exactement sous cette forme, mais elle avait d'autres façons de parler, en tant que sorcière elle avait beaucoup de pouvoirs, l'un d'eux était la télépathie à portée étroite, tant qu'elle était dans la même pièce que quelqu'un qu'elle pouvait utiliser sa télépathie, c'était l'un des rares pouvoirs qu'elle pouvait utiliser sous cette forme. Bien sûr, sa portée a été encore plus baissée sous cette forme. - Un homme sans chemise, aide-moi à empêcher le robot de tourner, ça donnera aux autres une chance d'aller chercher la poitrine. - Rose a dit à travers une télépathie à lui. Rose a fait un pas en arrière puis a utilisé un peu d'élan qu'elle a couru au robot pour saisir l'un des bras et a commencé à le pousser dans le côté opposé de la façon dont il se déplaçait. Cela ne l'a pas complètement arrêté de tourner, mais ça l'a ralenti considérablement. Si Karate Bastard l'écoutait, alors sa force supplémentaire aiderait probablement à l'empêcher de tourner et de donner aux autres une chance d'aller chercher la poitrine.

Name: Rose Grinda Alias: Bloody Rose Age: Looks 16 is actually around the age 500 years old Gender: Female Species: Witch Personality: Rose is a very quiet girl for the most part. However when provoked she will start to scream like a banshee and act erratically sometimes walking on the ceilings even. One her favorite ways to lure in pray is start crying to attract attention to herself, then once her victim comes in close enough she executes whatever plan she may have for that person, be it eating them, or making them see their worse night mare. Rose has no actual goal other than to cause misery to everyone she deems a deserving of facing misery. History: Rose was born in the town of Salem just before the witch trials began. She had a loving family however her mother was later accused of witch craft and burned at the stake. After witnessing this Rose ran into the forest soon getting herself lost. She eventually found a cave that was blocked off with many warning signs. She went into the cave despite the warning signs seeing it as shelter. As she went deeper into the cave she noticed many different glowing crystals. All of them were glowing red, and seemed to glow brighter when she got closer to them. As Rose went to sleep that night she started to hear voices, many of them offering kind words to her. The voices even taught Rose various things, one of them was what they called “The oath of Joy.” Which was actually a ritual where one paints a symbol onto their hands and stomach then recites a few lines before being possessed in exchange for immense power. After being possessed Rose returned to Salem now a full blown witch of immense power. She killed those who had wronged her mother, she killed each of them in dark places however that weren’t in the public eye. Some were killed at brothels, others killed in taverns. Once Rose finished her business in Salem she left the town that was now in utter chaos accusing each other of being witches. Rose continued to live as an urban legend in various places for the next 500 years, showing misery to others who came in her path, and killing and eating those she deemed a threat. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Rose was made famous through the urban legends of her luring in and terrorizing victims who then spent the rest of their lives in mental institutes. She really became famous however when there was a horror movie made about her that was extremely popular, it was called “The Bloody Rose.” Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Rose can be torn apart but she will always live through it, however she can be killed through burning her however keeping her still for that is the hard part. Rose also has various magical abilities, one of them being that she can change her body into that of a Creature with a giant mouth that can eat a person in two bites. Rose can make various objects in a room float as long as they are the size of a small lamp. Another power of Rose is illusions as well as levitation. Weakness: Fire is her most well-known weakness however she has another weakness of being trapped by circles of salt, or just salt in general. Salt prevents her from using her abilities as well. Relationships:

Ek'ork a été l'un des derniers à sortir du tunnel et s'est tenu plus loin dans le groupe. Il a regardé comme la machine chargée sur eux fouets volant partout. Ek'ork s'est juste tenu là et a solidifié son corps et laissé l'attaque venir, il a simplement glissé à travers sa poitrine laissant des marques de brûlure qui ont disparu quand il est revenu à la normale. Il passa par le sol et sortit à côté de la fille près de l'entrée, se contentant simplement de regarder les autres choisir au directeur. Après qu'ils l'aient démonté, et qu'ils avaient regroupé Ek'ork était prêt à partir à ce moment-là, mais il a entendu le robot se lever et se retourner pour voir qu'il avait déjà enlevé deux de ses "équipiers" et travaillait sur le troisième. Le directeur a regardé prêt à charger le reste, mais a sauté en arrière et s'est enfermé lui-même. Puis il a commencé à perdre le contrôle, à tirer tout ce qu'il avait et à se tourner pour augmenter la portée. Ek'ork avait été frappé avec deux grenades de mousse, ce qui lui a fait une statue de mousse géante, puis il a été frappé avec une grenade de frag. Juste avant qu'il ne frappe, il s'est endurci et a pris tout le truc, puis est sorti de la mousse. Il l'a ramassé et l'a jeté sur le truc. Il a été brisé par les fouets, laissant des morceaux de mousse derrière. "Tu vas rester là toute la journée à gaspiller des balles, ou tu viendras me combattre?" Ek'ork a regardé l'humain, il avait dit quelque chose de bizarre, ou du moins ça sonnait bizarre mais il ne pouvait pas mettre son doigt dessus. De plus en plus fatigué et ennuyé par toute l'affaire, il décide d'être un joueur d'équipe et saute devant le tunnel fermé et prend les fouets. La puissance qui circule à travers les fouets choque Ek'ork au cœur. Il avait déjà ressenti cette douleur, mais ça faisait un moment. Cendrissant ses dents, il a commencé à tirer sur les fouets, arrêtant la rotation et obtenant toute l'attention du robot. Ek'ork endurcit sa peau et se tendit pour l'impact qui vint bientôt à suivre, des grenades et des balles descendirent sur sa peau. La douleur était toujours là, mais elle n'a causé aucun dommage. Il avait déjà utilisé ses pouvoirs comme il est et avec le traumatisme croissant, il pouvait sentir sa main glisser. "Les humains si vous allez frapper le font MAINTENANT!!!!" Ek'ork a dit à travers les dents serrées. Il avait commencé à creuser dans le plancher en métal, ce qui l'avait fait se débarrasser du métal et l'avait même dentelé. Il avait besoin d'eux pour se dépêcher, son pouvoir ne durerait que si longtemps, et son emprise se glissait.

Name: Ek'ork Alias: The Founder/Eroric (those who cannot say his name call him Eroric) Age: 345 Gender: Male Species: Descender Personality: Ek'ork is a temperamental man. Most of the others of his species are all very respectful of their prince, but the human soon learn that he is quick to snap at any one. Like any prince when he ask for something he expects it no matter what, or there will be sever consequences. When coming to Earth he did not like their customs and traditions at all and had a problem adjusting. His mind is not one so easily conquered. It is vast, unlike humanity who can only use 5-16% of their brain capacity, his people can use up to 60% and it makes them different. They are numb to most human emotions and he does not quiet understand right and wrong just yet. History: Ek'ork lived as a prince on his home world, it was a dying planet and his people knew that, they understood that it was a dog eat dog world and the royalty had the biggest say in anything. Due to his fathers falling health it was getting close to the crowning ceremony, where the prince eats the father while he dies. In his society the minds of the people are connected by a mind link. Being an all male society, the more dominant males have royal blood in their veins and have better control over the others, acting as the queen bee of the planets hive. While the weaker males have little to know royal blood and are the worker bees. Ek'ork was next in line to take over the crown , which is know as the nexus. The Nexus is the hub for the mental links, which is why the kings get older and older as the years go on. So the previous king will find another 'proper' male and they would grow an egg using both of their genes. This is how Ek'ork came to be, his father (mother) was a warrior and fought in the many different wars waged by his people, while his other father (father/the king) has been ruling for 1000 years. He has just reached maturity and was now fit for the crown and just as he finished eating his father alive and accepting the Nexus, his world puffed out its last breath. Everything was falling apart and now as king Ek'ork had made the decision to leave, grabbing his only reaming father and trusted advisers, he left the little red world and watched it explode. HE could feel the instant deaths of millions of his people and it was a pain he will never forget. They found Earth by accident and thought it was a world easily inhabited. So they landed in secret and soon began to watch the humans before striking. There were only about 250 of his people left and after 5 years of observation they strike. What he did not know was that they had been found out and the humans were ready for him. 3 years of long war later and his population had been dropped down to 65. He called for peace and bought it with advanced technology and money. After the war he bought he and his people their 'humanity' and American Citizenship he took up home in Lochwell. He was, is, and will be an impatient man so he did not really get human customs and traditions until he ate one. This is how his people relay information form other people. They did not even speak English or any other Earth language until he ate his first human. WGUF-What Got You Famous: After the war and a few years of living in Lochwell, Ek'ork was called in by the president for a 'check-up' and followed suit. He went ot the white house and met the previous president, an arrogant man who did very many disrespectful looking things to Ek'ork's POV. Growing enraged by the minute Ek'ork finally snapped and ate the man. The first human he every ate was the president of the united states and he did it in a savage manner. Blood and leftover body parts could be seen throughout the Oval Office. He was apprehended on the spot and sent to ICF for permanent incarceration. His people were not reprimanded though and still run his gang on the outside. Equipment: He has a war suit that he wears during combat. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents:His people are naturally strong in nature, being able to life ten times their weight like ants, they also have their own martial arts system. He was trained by a warrior and bred for combat. His strikes are hard and he can kill anything in 10 different ways or more. He is a hunter and has instincts like one. Due to him having the Nexus his brain usage jumps to 75%. This gives him prime control over his own body. He can control two different things, his density. Making himself as light as a feather, giving him flight, or as heavy and hard as a star, giving him an added punch. Ek'ork can phase through objects as well bye reducing his density to allow him to go through solid objects, or vice versa. Weakness: Ek'ork is a King of his people, this mean a lot. The Nexus is a heavy burden and even though he will not die for many thousands of years (due to low population) Using the Nexus is a great burden and a last resort. After it gets used he needs time to recover from fatigue, duration depending on how long he has been using. He is not bullet proof by any means, only when he is using the Nexus, but during normal combat he can be shot and cut and broken like anyone else. Also his massive structure is a problem in many cases, small confined spaces are not his forte and he sends people do that for him. Secret Hideout: The Mothership of his people is hidden some where in the Pacific ocean, but their base of operations and only access point is in a bar owned by him. Relationships:

Le robot ne s'était pas beaucoup déplacé vers lui quand l'autre prisonnier a fait son mouvement, mais Falcon a décidé que c'était le meilleur qu'il était susceptible d'obtenir, étant donné que le directeur était maintenu en place. Il se dirigea vers l'arbre avec sa puissance, secouant rapidement le blocage de la mousse. Il s'est arraché de l'arbre d'acier autour d'elle et a immédiatement été balayé dans un geyser d'eau balayant vers le haut d'en bas. Le liquide éclata dans toutes les directions et le trempa jusqu'à la peau en un instant, mais le courant principal suivit la direction de l'arbre, s'inclinant vers l'extérieur vers le milieu du dôme. Tandis que le flux sautait vers le ciel, il a grandi la quantité d'eau, lui donnant le peu de portée supplémentaire dont il avait besoin pour descendre juste au-dessus du directeur.

Name: James Edward Falcon Allias: Falcon Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Human Powers: Falcon can cause objects around him to change size, growing or shrinking into perfect scale replicas of themselves without changing density. A secondary ability allows him to teleport to anywhere he can see. Appearance: Falcon has narrow grey eyes set above a prominent nose and a slim, clean-shaven face. He keeps his dark hair short, and was typically known to go around in a smartly-tailored business suit and tie. His torso is solidly built though not overly muscular, and his long legs take him to a height of 190 centimetres. (Picture to come) History: James Falcon came into his abilities as a young man and, seeing that his powers were less well suited to flying though the skyline fighting criminals, he instead entered the world of business. His talent for growth and long-term strategic thinking saw him rise to prominence at a young age. Because of his belief that superbeings should use their abilities to make the world better, he put much of his wealth funding altruistic projects. He put money into refugee camps and disaster relief, and funded drug research and subsidies where he felt that the government was falling short. As time passed and his business empire grew, his philanthropy also branched out to supporting political campaigns of candidates he felt had good priorities, then to supporting the cases of criminals whose actions he believed were justified, such as those who used dubious methods to expose corruption or exploitation. It was when he was found to be sheltering two of these men in his mansion while police were searching for them that he himself was arrested for obstructing the course of justice and trumped up charges related to his use of financial resources to exert undue influence on politics. James did not resist his arrest and agreed to stand trial, confident in his assertions that the good he did for the world far outweighed the bad and that others would see that and overlook his breaking the letter of the law for upholding its spirit. He was dead wrong. A number of his political and business rivals piled in on the case, pushing for as harsh a sentence as possible, and he was sent to prison for five years. As a regular prison would be unable to hold him and no suitable facility was near to hand, he was extradited and sent to a secure facility designed to hold the most hardened violent supervillains, the ICF. Horrified and insulted by this turn of events, he brooded on his anger and frustration, and so the supervillain Falcon was born. The people who had put him here, he decided, were incompetent fools. He had spent a long time plugging holes in a broken system with his own hard work and donations, but to truly help, much more would be required. The whole system needed to be broken down and rebuilt from the ground up, and the people in charge needed to know what they were doing and be able to see it through. People like Falcon. This would be his new mission in life, and arriving in jail, he had plenty of time to plan. Personality: James Falcon is not an impulsive man. Rather, in all things he prefers a cautious, calculating, strategic approach. To him, knowledge is power and the way to get what one wants is by careful planning and precise execution. He prefers his own company when ruminating on these things and reacts irritably to distraction, though he will happily share his ideas and talk at length at more appropriate times. He is possessed of great determination and drive to reach his goals, and, facilitated by his approach above, has usually been successful. He truly does want to make the world a better place, but this ambition has been twisted by his anger and frustration about the ineffectiveness of government at achieving meaningful changes. He has become proud, vengeful and ruthless. Strengths: Falcon’s most formidable asset is his strong intellect, which allows him to use his abilities to full effect in a number of situations. This is backed up by his sharp senses and good reflexes. Weaknesses: Falcon’s teleportation ability only enables him to move within his line of sight, which limits its usefulness when it’s dark or his vision is otherwise obscured. He can take one other person with him or an equivalent amount of material, but no more. His size altering powers do not work on himself or any other humans. He dislikes being thrust into situations without warning, as his best strength comes from planning ahead and being able to control his environment. Secret Hideout: As mentioned above, Falcon is not from Lochwell City, so he has no current base in the city. What he does have, however, is his emergency Swiss bank account, which he started when he first entered business and has been feeding ever since in case some unforeseen disaster should make the rest of his fortune inaccessible. Equipment: For now, a prison jumpsuit. But just you wait until he can get out and get creative! Relationships: James has immense respect for The Chief, a superhero from his hometown who doesn’t just catch criminals, but spends just as much time using his abilities to be helpful to law-abiding people. This is supering done right, in his opinion. “Superbeings are not bound by the laws of men. We are born with the power to break the laws of nature itself, and are bound to step in and use that power when ordinary systems fail to protect mankind. I spent years trying to prop up the current system and plug its gaps with my powers, never realising that what it was beyond all hope of repair. Similarly, I reject my sentence under your legal code and instead answer to a higher moral law. It now demands that I step in not to uphold civilisation, but to destroy it. I will burn everything down to the bedrock and start over, This time, I will be in charge and I will see things done right.”

Karate Bastard avait été prématuré en se félicitant lui-même. Lorsque le directeur a renversé et qu'il a été frappé à fond, il a supposé que le combat était terminé. Il lui a donné le temps de reprendre son souffle (bien que bien sûr un homme dur comme lui n'était pas du tout hors de souffle), faire le bilan des autres et faire pour la sortie. Puis le robot s'était remis en marche et lui avait donné un bon coup sanglant, le frappant plus fort qu'il ne voulait l'admettre. Assez pour lui faire souffler le vent. C'est bon pour ça. Il ne l'admettait jamais, mais il avait été lent à se relever, même au moment critique alors que le directeur était toujours en état de choc. Penser au prochain mouvement, peut-être. Les robots avaient besoin de réfléchir, n'est-ce pas? En tout cas, il semblait diriger moins de tirs de son armement sur lui alors qu'il luttait pour se lever. Le Drongo ne l'a probablement plus enregistré comme une menace après les coups qu'il lui a donnés. Une voix sonnait dans sa tête, lui disant d'attraper les fouets. Il secoua la tête, encore groggy, encore lent à réagir. Mais KB a été galvanisé en action quand il a vu le béhémoth démoniaque et le géant à la peau blanche saisir les fouets tournants. L'odeur de l'ozone a rempli l'air comme les deux se sont soumis au courant électrique crépitant. Brave. KB a été forcé d'admettre en privé que c'était courageux. Il a saisi le nunchaku dans sa main, les a jetés à la taille de la guêpe du robot imposant. L'attache en tissu enveloppé snoblement autour de l'axe, j'espère brouillage quel que soit le mécanisme lui a permis de continuer à tourner autour. Si son prochain déménagement n'a pas payé, le fait que le directeur ne tourne plus autour pourrait au moins gagner un certain temps aux autres pour réagir. Il se précipita vers l'avant, préparant déjà mentalement son attaque. Il y a une théorie selon laquelle chaque être humain porte une certaine quantité d'énergie dans son corps. Appelez-le, appelez-le qi, appelez-le comme vous voulez, mais un praticien qualifié peut exploiter cette énergie, la concentrer dans une certaine zone, dépenser tout en une seule attaque. KB n'était pas sûr s'il croyait en qi, si ces frappes puissantes étaient mieux attribuées à l'exercice diligent et au contrôle musculaire. Quoi qu'il en soit, Karate Bastard croyait au pouvoir de la grève qu'il était sur le point de lancer. Il était interdit au sein de la communauté tai chi pour son pouvoir effrayant et mortel, donc naturellement il l'a utilisé toutes les chances qu'il pouvait. Il l'avait utilisé pour diviser des blocs, renverser des voitures, envoyer des hommes blessant vingt verges pendant que leur cœur explosait dans leur poitrine. Il était convaincu que cette frappe permettrait au moins de libérer le revêtement d'armure sur la poitrine du directeur et de laisser le noyau de puissance exposé. "LE PALME DE BUDDHA!" Karate Bastard a crié au moyen d'un kiai alors qu'il a livré la grève de la paume peur directement dans la plaque du directeur. Toute sa force, physique et spirituelle, est entrée dans ce seul coup puissant. Temporairement dépensé, il s'est jeté à genoux, transpirant de son corps et réellement hors d'haleine pour le moment.

Name: Keith Blackwell Alias: Karate Bastard Age: 36 Gender: Male Species: Human Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him. History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program. But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha. The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated. Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate. From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave. Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated. In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly. Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him. Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country. Relationships: None.

Nihil était apathique vers Riley. Elle s'est simplement cognée. "Si vous devez avoir un nom, vous pouvez m'appeler Nihil." La fille ne voulait pas expliquer à Riley pourquoi elle attendait une chance de frapper. Elle a simplement continué à observer. Le moteur de Riley semblait contrôler la flamme, ce qui s'est avéré efficace contre le robot affaiblissant. La créature semblait être tombée, un handicap structurel inconnu l'envoyant par terre. Plusieurs minutes passèrent et le robot se leva à nouveau, cette fois avec une vengeance. Riley, la fille qui lui avait parlé, était soudainement handicapée par une sorte de mousse, la pièce se remplissant de fumée. La créature volante a été frappée avec le fouet électronique, le lançant vers la jeune fille transformée, et l'utilisateur flamboyant d'arts martiaux a été attaqué. La créature a finalement ciblé Nihil, ou, plus précisément, tout le monde dans la pièce. Plusieurs balles ont été dirigées vers Nihil et Riley, qui étaient actuellement incapables par la mousse. Nihil a déménagé pour protéger la fille piégée, pour des raisons dont elle n'était pas tout à fait sûre. Il semblerait que sa programmation ait obtenu le meilleur d'elle. Elle plongea, poussant la fille qui n'était probablement pas complètement au courant de l'attaque au sol. Nihil l'a suivie jusqu'au sol, la couvrant. Elle a absorbé plusieurs balles, par son compte 4, des blessures qui tueraient probablement un humain ordinaire, mais qui ne feraient qu'invalider Nihil.

Emma Summers | Nihil Age: 29 Gender: Female Species: Human History: In the year 1986 a new kind of weapon was bred in the wind-swept desert of Afghanistan. The pressure of the Cold War has been on a steady rise, and it soon exploded in conflict. The Russian invasion of Afghanistan created a new warzone for the US to fight a proxy war against communism. Naturally they sided against Russia, supporting the Afghani Mujahideen. This war served as the backdrop of a highly illegal and highly unethical experiment conducted in the dark depths of the US Military-Industrial Complex by a secret group of researchers, unknown to all but a very select number of US Government officials. The question was simple: How does one create the perfect soldier? The first solution was technological: A serum that greatly increased the physical capabilities of a solider, additionally bestowing them with a number of 'super powers' that would aid them in their job. The second was much darker. In science there is an experiment that is considered taboo. Dubbed "The Forbidden Experiment". What would happen to someone if they were deprived of exposure to language of any sort? The researchers designed an evocative experiment: A child deprived of human contact. Taught by machines. Gradually exposed to the world through video and picture. Kept in peak physical condition. Raised by technology to be a soldier that had no regard for human life or their own life, instilled with unflinching obedience. Combined with their newly invented 'super-serum' this child was to be the ultimate soldier. The child had no name, but the researchers gave her a nickname: Nihil. A Latin word best described as meaning 'the absence of anything'. Nothingness. It was at the age of twelve that Nihil was given her first mission. The Soviet–Afghan War was already over, but the Cold War was still on and researchers were eager to see the fruits of their labor. An operation was called by the general who was privy to the details of the experiment, buried in layers of deniability. The mission was simple: Capture a Soviet outpost. It was a task for a group of highly trained soldiers. Instead a little girl was sent in. The mission, needless to say, was a success. Nihil proved to be highly capable in combat, and it seemed that all the programming and experimenting had indeed created the perfect soldier. As time went on the US's 'secret soldier' went on more missions, always proving successful against the most unlikely of odds. Every time it was the same: She'd receive her orders, be dropped into the hot zone, carry out her mission, exfiltrate, and then return to isolation, or to the training room connected to her cell, but she still always never saw a single person. The only times she had human contact was through the scope of a rifle. The only voices she heard where the screams of her targets. But something had to give, the shroud of isolation couldn't be kept forever. There was one variable that the researcher's couldn't control: Themselves. They weren't bad people... or maybe they were, but they felt remorse. Some of them were unable to handle the kind of research they were doing. Some were entirely uncaring, seeing Nihil as nothing more than a subject. But almost all of them were quelled by their paycheck. Almost. One of them faced the ultimate struggle: Love. One of the researchers who spent countless hours observing Nihil came to feel a strange paternal affection for the girl who he had twisted into a soldier. It happened slowly, but it happened nonetheless. One day Nihil was sitting in her cell, as she always had, when something unexpected came through the slit in the door that had always delivered only food: A flower, and a note. The clean, white, sterile, surgical cell, devoid of anything but the basic necessities of life and a computer screen through which she had been educated had suddenly been invaded by a small speck of color. The facility rose in a panic. Their carefully controlled experiment had suddenly been thrown askew. The never anticipated one of their own going so far in mutiny. Nihil picked up the note, felt the paper. The words which she had only ever seen etched into a computer screen. Researchers scrambled. She couldn't read it, they couldn't let her. It would likely destroy their work. As the mutinous researcher had been carried away, the door to Nihil's cell opened and for the first time she had seen a face on the other side of it. A stern face, a human face, reaching for the note. Suddenly her world had been thrown into question. Thoughts that never came to her, question that she had never come to ask. Who was she? Who were they? What are they? Who are the people she killed? Why did she exist? Something snapped inside her. She understood that they did something wrong to her, the note made it clear. The girl easily overpowered the researcher, slamming his face against the wall and leaving a bloody smear. Their experiment was over. How could it succeed? No one can stem the very basis of human nature. They had reached too far. The girl they bred for war, of course, had no problem escaping from their confines after that. What was once a sterile research lab was sullied by blood. No one in the research staff, not one of the guards, nor one of the numerous other unholy experiments, not one of the janitors, or the maintenance workers, or the soldiers lived. They had created a monster. An unfeeling monster that wanted nothing more than to feel. As she emerged from the depths of the facility she emerged into a unknown environment. She had only ever known desert and mountains and the lab. This place was different. The mountains reached taller, scraping against the sky above. The ground was not sand, but concrete. Around her stood none of the 'Soviets' she had been taught were the enemy. Instead she was surrounded by people. Unfamiliar people. Numerous people, countless people. They stared at her: A teenage girl soaked in blood, carrying a rifle, clothing tattered. One of them called the police. Nihil was already gone, running away into a world she knew very little about. Soon after that she found herself taken back into the fold of the US Military. Escaping wouldn't be that easy. It had been something they had prepared for. They could track her, of course. But things were different as she returned. She came to learn the name of the general in charge of the experiment: Brook. General Dalton Brook. He, like many of the researchers, came to see that the experiment was a mistake, so he extended an offer to reintegrate her into society with support from to government. The price was simple: Nihil's secrecy. No one would know where she came from. She wanted to know what life was like outside of confinement. She agreed. She was soon re-educated, placed into an apartment, taught how to live like a 'normal' person. They gave her money. They gave her freedom. They gave her a name, Emma. They even let her join the VA. She was technically still a veteran, after all. But it wasn't enough for her. How could it be? She soon came to recognize what they took from her. What she could never get back. She was still a warrior, no matter what they did. She still couldn't feel like any other person. She still couldn't know what it was like to really be normal. So she disappeared, again. This time she made sure they couldn't follow. She used her powers to escape, again, and never looked back. She also promised herself one thing: She would exact revenge upon General Dalton Brook. After that she slipped into the criminal underworld. By day she kept on her mask: The mask of a normal person, pretending to feel the emotions she could never feel. By night she was a rouge. Her powers made her a natural fit. She still only knew how to be a soldier. Assassination was her trade. She still felt nothing when she took a life. She felt no remorse. She wanted to hurt the people who hurt her and the people who didn't hurt her. She wouldn't be satisfied until everyone bled. But one thing still kept her sane. One thing kept her from being a psychopath: The memory of the flower and the note she had received from the one person who had loved her. The note she still kept with her. The note no one else would ever see. Part of her wanted to hurt, but part of her wanted to feel. Part of her wanted to discover the emotions she never knew. As the years went on she felt her life become meaningless. She only lived to live. The feeling still wasn't there. She came to realize he joy that she once thought she felt when she killed was false, engineered by the researchers. She still wanted to kill Dalton Brook, but it seemed unattainable. He was half a world away. She felt trapped. And then one day during her 'late night activities' she was caught by a hero. Captain Power. She could've escaped. It would've been easy with her powers. But she gave up. She let herself get caught. He was confused, but took her in. And that was it. She was sent to prison, buried behind layers of security designed to prevent her escape. She couldn't be stopped. Ironically her powers made escape quite easy for her. But she didn't care. It was just like old times. "I can leave whenever I want." Personality: Nihil is devoid of emotion. She strives for it, but it's always out of reach. She's only felt emotion twice: Hatred for the people who authorized the experiments conducted on her, and a small moment of happiness hen she read a letter penned by the only person who has loved her. She is almost entirely apathetic towards existence, only driven by her goal to kill General Dalton Brook. She has no friends, has never tried to make any friends, and is seemingly unable to make friends. How can someone with no emotion have friends? She's entirely confident in her abilities, convinced that nothing can stop her, no matter how incorrect that might be. She rarely speaks, and isn't very easy to work with, instead preferring to operate solo. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Nihil's principal talent is mastery with almost all forms of weaponry. She is a highly skilled marksman, able to use a sniper rifle to make shots that no normal human can make. She has a supreme reaction time and can slow her breathing to the point where it is almost impossible to discern if she is actually alive. Her senses are also highly heightened, furthering her skill as a marksman. Her skill with guns is so great that she can shoot the individual blades of a helicopter while they are in motion. She has been trained in the art of 'gun-kata', a form of martial arts that integrates hand to hand techniques with gunplay and the statistical study of a gunfight, allowing her to very accurately predict and then react to the patterns that her enemies will use, making her a very deadly foe against groups of enemies. She is of course, by extension, highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. The serum given to her also has imbued her with more 'super-human' abilities. She is more durable than an average person, able to survive a number of gunshots or a long fall, has strength comparable to a man twice her size. One of her principal abilities is they power to move at speeds that are almost imperceptible, appearing as little more than a blur. Additionally she can jump much higher than the average human, around the height of 20 feet. This allows her supreme mobility, letting dart quickly across the battlefield in a blink of an eye. Weakness: Nihil's first weakness is her highly heightened senses. Although this at first seems to strictly be an advantage she is prone to sensory overload, extreme smells or loud sounds can have highly adverse effects on her. Additionally it is worth nothing that although she is more durable than the average human, unlike many super humans she is still very susceptible to gunshots or other physical damage. She might be durable, but she is very far from invulnerable. Finally the super-serum has had some adverse effects on her. She is prone to intense migraines, which in the past has not served her well in battle. The serum may have more negatory side-effects that remain unseen. Secret Hideout: Nihil has no secret hideout, only a shitty apartment, Relationships: The only feeling Nihil has for any person is the hate she feels for the General.

-- Si vous devez avoir un nom, vous pouvez m'appeler Nihil, dit la dame, la lueur de retour sur son visage. Riley a répondu avec un sourire. C'était si facile de se lever de la femme, comment Riley pourrait-elle résister à la griffer? Le directeur est tombé, les évasions se sont regroupées. La mousse autour de l'arbre de l'ascenseur avait presque fondu, mais avant de gagner leur liberté, le robot s'est remis sur ses pieds et a lancé une seconde attaque. Avant que Riley puisse en avoir le sens, la fumée a éclaté autour d'eux, et elle a senti le souffle soufflé d'elle alors que le polystérène poussait autour d'elle. "Allez. Maintenant, c'est juste enfantin et inutile », murmura-t-elle, distrait-elle maintenant, avec un schowl de sa propre. Elle a frappé ses extrémités, les trouvant libres. Soudain, Riley a été arrachée de ses pieds, un poids subitement sur elle. Elle se blottit, momentanément ébranlée, vit Nihil, et sentit une source de sourire sur son visage. Mais il a disparu quand elle a entendu des coups de feu et les bruits métalliques de balles qui n'avaient pas trouvé leurs marques ricochetant follement hors des murs métalliques. En sortant du dessous de Nihil, Riley s'est assis. Tout de suite, elle a aperçu des taches de sang le long des vêtements de Nihil, suspectement peu profonds. Riley s'est claquée les doigts, la chaleur s'est enflammée dans le sang alors qu'elle a accéléré le feu pour faire fondre la mousse dans laquelle elle avait été piquée, en attendant que le sang de Nihil commence à souffler dans une fontaine cramoisi grotesque. "Qu'étiez-vous - " Mais la question était perdue quand Riley a remarqué des balles allongées sur le sol, et aucune blessure d'entrée sur Nihil. Riley a regardé Nihil, scrutant son visage pour trouver un indice, avant qu'elle n'éclate un sourire lopé de son propre. « Une fois que nous en aurons fini avec ça, dit-elle, en se mettant aux pieds et en étirant une main pour tirer Nihil avec elle, en fumant de la mousse qui tombe comme de la cire de son corps, j'ai pensé à vous demander ce qui vous a atterri ici en premier lieu. » Et pourquoi tu n'as pas encore saigné de multiples blessures par balle, pensait-elle. Elle a retourné son attention au directeur. Un homme géant, pâle et sans cheveux, absorbait un assaut d'électricité, de grenades et de tout l'arsenal que le directeur avait à offrir. L'homme sans chemise avait frappé l'assiette de la poitrine. Riley ne pouvait plus mettre le feu aux bras, au cas où juste court-circuité les fils et a augmenté la tension encore plus que l'homme de porcelaine tenu. Un autre homme avait fait quelque chose au puits, et maintenant il y avait un torrent d'eau. Avant que Riley puisse esquiver son chemin de balayage, elle sentit son roulis actuel sur elle. Soufflant pour l'air, Riley s'est maudite. "Mon Dieu." Elle secoua la tête et tira la pire de l'eau de sa main, une flamme résistante éclatant à la vie dans ses paumes, mais moins éclatante. Elle se tourna vers Nihil, et offrit sa main au feu d'une plaisanterie dans sa voix. "Tu veux que je te sèche?"

Name: Riley Pielwood Alias: NA Age: 20 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: Snarky and with a love for sharp humour, Riley wouldn’t immediately come across as psychotic to those she meets. Fun-loving and highly appreciative of a few chuckles, Riley makes careless remarks and laughs whenever she will. Though bright and energetic, she hides her claws and filed teeth behind her wide smile, tucked away until her hackles have been raised. Her laughter is bark-like and sharp, as is her bite. She likes teasing people and ribbing them in good fun, but nowhere near as much as she enjoys seeing an expression ranging from dismay to horror to panic to pain unfurl over a face, and knowing she has put it there. She enjoys herself a fair dose of chaos, might instigate it now and then, but she has found that dropping in during the second act isn’t all too bad either. She has an intense weakness for challenges too, and can’t stand being bored, especially if mundane people let her down and fail to fulfill her amusement quota. Sarcasm and sardonicism keep her entertained during lull periods. She doesn’t particularly need to see blood to be satisfied – hasn’t got much of an appetite for it, to be frank – but she will draw it to prove a point if need be. Vindictive, she can get childishly petty and vengeful when she doesn’t get her way. Needless to say, she is not the most mature, but she will do anything for her little sister Naomi. History: Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. It was a crumbling union of two unfortunate souls too prideful to separate that Riley witnessed as a toddler, loathed as an child and overlooked as an adolescent. It helped matters none when her mother got pregnant again and Riley got herself a younger sister at nine. Of course, it was left to Riley to look after the thing right after it was weaned. It took all of six months for her to get attached to little Naomi, but once she began to feel warmth uncoiling in her stomach when looking at the ankle-biter’s rosy cheeks and guileless gummy smile, she was stupidly loyal to a baby. By then, she had gotten herself into a few scuffles, though nothing serious. She would return home with bloody knuckles and bruises blooming anywhere imaginable and her baby sister would brush her chubby grasp over the tender spots on Riley’s skin like a whisper. Their parents had never been big on gentle physical touch, and Riley absolutely lived for those moments. She never lost a fight, and came home daily to coo over Naomi as the dull aches slowly pulsed into faded muscle memory. Their parents slowly spiraled further and further away, eventually becoming so detached and in need of remedy that the dining table was empty more often than not, as they spent their days languishing in numb, alcohol-induced limbos. That however didn’t bother Riley as much as how bone-dry Naomi’s bottle was getting, and when Naomi got a fever Riley was thrown into absolute panic. She considered it a miracle her sister hadn’t gotten sick earlier – the darkened flat hadn’t been feather-brushed in years, much less properly cleaned, and Riley’s cheeks were growing gaunt and hollow to keep Naomi’s plump but almost, it would seem, to no avail. Riley could see it all – the hunger, the pain – diminishing to naught as she perched owlishly by the crib, desperately clinging onto Naomi’s pudgy fist as she screamed and her face turned ruddy and her little voice choked on her own tears. The next morning in school, a boy passed a mindless comment that sent Riley rocketing off her seat. She was sick with worry, and the boy was a brainy bespectacled thing who deserved all her resentment because he came from a house that wasn’t falling apart and parents with a love as deep as their wallets. He couldn’t even fight her off with his own fists. Instead, he begged her to stop and tried to sweeten the plea with money. Riley almost scoffed, until she realised what he was offering and plucked him off the ground. He meekly handed her five dollars, but a shaking of his shoulders and a snarl in his pasty face raised the sum to a princely fifteen. With that money, Riley was able to buy milk formula for Naomi. Given another two recesses and a whole playground full of potential victims with cushy families, Riley could pay for a trip to the doctor’s. She attracted strange stares in the waiting room, as she cradled a squalling baby in knobby arms and with cheeks smudged as dark as soot, but she glared at the receptionist and nurses and patients who were all just blockades between Naomi and the doctor until they tore their eyes to the ground. Naomi got better, but Riley continued to bully the kids, until the pantry was stocked up again and Riley herself began to fill out. When she was twelve, upperclassmen who had seen her exploits during recess where the teachers couldn’t see invited her to play truant with them. She surveyed them warily at first, until they mentioned money. By the time Riley was thirteen, she had become a bully outside of the playground, and ran around with a gang of youths who were all older than her but headed in the same direction. Rogues had already started becoming an issue then, and these gangly adolescents with enough tar in their lungs to reline roads and tattoos snaking around their bodies like vices fantasised living lives of obscene wealth, play, and skullduggery. They got up to mischief on a daily basis; Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. Even if the gang was majorly made up of dim bulbs and dull tools, Riley was saving up handsomely, and they made her laugh and lightened her heart even if they lived a story set against the most grim of backgrounds. Plus, her thick-as-thieves associates in malice would have gladly jumped a bullet for Naomi, now at four a cute rascal with a smile to melt even the ringleader’s heart and enough naivety to shame Riley, and she was grateful for any protection they could offer, now that she had gotten herself involved in risky business. But she lived every day laughing and playing with her sister, running around and wreaking havoc around town with teenagers as mad and starved for the intangible as her, and it was a good life to live. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. But because the one above was too long, I added in this summarised version, because I can understand it would be a pain to read through the whole thing. Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. She later had a little sister by the name of Naomi at the age of nine, who came to care intensely for. She would often get into fights in school, but always came home to Naomi and for that she was grateful. Their parents then stopped providing for them, and it worried Riley that Naomi was getting less and less fed. When Naomi got a fever Riley was worried sick, and after beating up a rich boy in school realised she could extort money from her classmates, using what she unjustly earned to buy milk formula for Naomi, pay for her health, and feed the family again. When she was twelve, she became involved with a gang of youths who were all older than her but filled to the brim in the head with fantasies of being rogues. Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. She stayed on because she was earning and learning, and running amok with these people lifted her spirits. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. What Got You Famous: The same problem happened; I'm so sorry. And she did. She did do her job, got herself paid and told to rest on her laurels until something else came along and they called on her duty again. She did her job several times over, and did it well even if it would make her stomach turn. But she overcame her squeamishness quickly enough, and only pursed her lips when she did her job. But somebody else didn’t. Somebody else screwed up, and Riley was awakened one night by Naomi’s screaming, her parents’ shouting, and the door to her room being kicked down. She was seventeen. A seventeen-year-old girl caught in her bed in nothing but boxers and a singlet, eyes still bleary from sleep and squinting into the spotlight shone on her, as her little sister cried at the doorway, held back by parents who now gave their undivided attention. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly what the ARGO team had been expecting when they crashed into her house on an overnight mission to round-up members of a rogue organisation they had just dismantled, because there was a beat of absolute silence from the officers – armed with impressive weaponry and decked out in bulletproof vests and suits which all looked overdone now – before they started to order her to the ground, voices ricocheting in the cramped room. When Riley failed to comply, one of them reached forward to roughly drag her off the bed. But it had been a long time since Riley had slept, sure of her safety. Before the officer could even blink, she had dragged the serrated edge of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow into the flesh of his underarm. Howling, he let her go, falling back and failing his arm so that blood flew everywhere. Pandemonium peaked, and Pandora’s box opened in that room itself as voices exploded and rifles were whipped into the hunter’s crouch, aimed right at her heart. Another soldier tried to advance, and the hand holding the dagger twitched to right beside her ear, ready to be thrown. Caught in this stalemate, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who broke free of her parents’ hold to push against the back of an officer’s legs, desperate to get through, crying for Riley even though her entire front was splattered with another man’s blood. The officer turned sharply then, every instinct lit and every nerve strung high, and swung the barrel of his rifle down as he peered at Naomi. It was aimed right at her sister. I cannot lose her. With a flick of her wrist that was too easy – so familiar, so simple – Riley threw the dagger. It embedded itself deeply in the chink of armour that had been revealed as the soldier craned his neck downwards. In a spray of blood from the back of his neck, the soldier gave a last sputter and fell. A body was flung at her, pinning her at once against the floor. Riley landed on her back, the breath flattened out of her. She started to wrestle with the man, scratching at his face and knocking his visor askew, all the while hearing the high-pitched shrieks of Naomi. She made a claw-like shape with her hand, whipping it forth to rake her nails down the man’s face. Unexpectedly, the man yowled anew when tongues of flame licked his face. His comrades who had scrambled to save the fallen life whirled around to find Riley struggling to her feet, gazing in awe at her right hand now swallowed in fire. She looked up, to see soldiers with eyes full of intent to bring her down, and waved her arm around, a torch that roared with life as she yelled, “Stand back!” Obstinately, the team advanced, and she flung her hand at them. Fire sprung to life behind a man’s ears, and he scrambled to beat it out. But try as he might he continued to burn. New screams filled the room, and hesitantly the team began to recoil. There was a window just paces away from where Riley stood. She was just about to leap for it, when she heard Naomi – all screams now dead – whimper, “Make it stop.” It was enough to strike Riley dumb; that pause was enough for what remained of the force to bring her down and innovatively bag and handcuff her hands. But she remained limp, lifeless, beneath them, hearing on endless repeat Naomi’s plea. Once she was hauled upright to be taken away, Riley bent to Naomi’s level long enough to say goodbye, before she was heaved into an armoured truck; before she could say – hypocritically – stay out of trouble, be good; before she could hear her sister burst into tears again. Riley’s story gained renown. After all, a girl whose hand spontaneously combusts into flame is never conventional. Reporters craving a juicy story martyred her when word got out how subdued she became once she heard her little sister call out for her. The efforts to make her a saint only intensified when a journalist shallowly researched her background to hit upon the sheer depth of Riley’s care for Naomi. But it was all useless, because Riley was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, locked away somewhere by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content, and no amount of media press was ever going to get her out. Naomi worked with the organisation for a while, fully aware that it was nasty business but getting over her qualms about it for the money she and Naomi were dependent on. But then somebody made a mistake, and an ARGO team came to round up members of the rogue organisation they managed to dismantle. They kicked down their way into her room before the eyes of her parents and Naomi. They woke her up abruptly, and when one of them tried to roughly drag her off the bed, she cut him with the dagger she slept beneath her pillow. Both parties conscious that the other was dangerous, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who pushed against the back of an officer’s legs, trying to get to Riley. The officer turned at the push, and swung his rifle in such a way that the barrel was aimed at Naomi. Afraid at once of losing her sister, Riley threw the dagger and it cut into the back of the soldier’s neck. One of the men pinned her to the floor, and while trying to fight him off, Riley’s hand burst into flame, causing him to yowl and fly back. Riley used her hand now aflame to ward them off, and set a man’s ears on fire from a distance. This gave the rest of the team cause to pause, and while Riley thought about jumping out the window as the men all burned at her feet, she heard Naomi whimper, “Make it stop.” The fight left Riley then, and she was immediately hauled away. Her story gained renown, for the sheer shock factor of Riley’s inflammatory powers, and the selling point that was her love for her sister. Riley however was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, and locked away by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content. Equipment: Daggers. Lots and lots of daggers. She has a belt to carry rows of them like teeth, but she lost it when she was taken into custody from her home. But she has plans to fashion a new one from scratch if need be. Powers/Abilities: Knife-handling. Riley can severely injure anyone with a blade in hand, and even out of hand. Her daggers always fly in the trajectory she wants. She can control flame as well. Fire will burst to life in her palms, or fingertips, or a flammmable object at a reasonable distance - Riley enjoys being able to light candles without having to get up. She can put out a fire if she wills it, and adds in a little of her own fire as well. Her brand of flame is very difficult to put out too. Riley likes to joke that pouring milk over it helps, though the actual trick is to deprive it of oxygen. On a large-scale however that would prove problematic. She can also increase the temperature of her skin to an alarming pitch, so as to scald and give first-degree burns to anyone who tries to grab her. But she can’t sustain too high a temperature for too long; Riley has enzymes too that she doesn’t want denaturing. Weakness: Mention harm to Naomi, and if she thinks you can make good on that promise, she will suppress herself. (If not, it will only enrage her) Drenching her with water would work well to stop her from committing more arson too, I guess. Secret Hideout: Old, and rustic, the tree-house stands in the tree-tops, desolate and away from traffic. It used to be an old haunt for vagabonds and the way-less, and it's just right for Riley if she wants to be alone to think, or if she wants to kip a night. Relationships: None so far with rogues or heroes, but she loves her sister Naomi dearly. She knows a few rogues who carved some names for themselves but ever since being locked away she hasn't heard from them. She has contacts, but they're all far away in her hometown, and distant from the years apart.

Ce qui s'est passé à travers Semyaza n'a pas été de la douleur alors qu'il était dans l'emprise du fouet des gardiens. La douleur était là, bien sûr. Ce n'était tout simplement pas l'objectif général. Quelque chose d'autre s'est gâté et a éclipsé la douleur si complètement que c'était comme une goutte d'eau dans la mer. Rage. C'est de la pure colère. Attraper quelque chose et électrocuter c'était un temps honoré tactique parmi les guerriers Grigori. Pour une création humaine d'utiliser une telle attaque était de cracher dans le visage des camarades tombés de Semyaza. Il était tellement en colère qu'il n'a même pas remarqué quand la racine l'a libéré, n'a même pas senti l'impact quand il s'est arrêté. Ses yeux demeurèrent enracinés sur l'ennemi devant lui. Il a frappé le sol avec son poing et a sauté sur ses pieds avec un florissant prêt à réprimander la chose afin qu'il puisse savoir la raison pour laquelle il est mort allait être exceptionnellement douloureux, sa vision ne va pas fléchir même que le robot a surgi avec l'intention meurtrière. Il pensait que ce serait une bonne bataille! C'était à peu près quand il s'est mis en marche. Tout comme il n'avait pas remarqué que ce qui a arrêté son vol était Rose, Rose à son tour ne l'avait apparemment pas remarqué dans sa hâte de faire la bataille. Il était plus lent à monter sur ses pieds cette fois-ci, et il n'était à genoux que lorsqu'une grenade à fragmentation s'est posée devant lui. L'explosion qui en a résulté l'a jeté sur le mur, où il a été frappé avec une grenade en mousse presque instantanément. La mousse s'étendit et le colla là-bas, mais se développait quand une grenade à fumée s'y installa et devint coincée. Cela a explosé, libérant sa charge utile directement sur lui. "Simple à trois!" Il a crié. Ça m'arrêtera pas pour une maman. Si la main de fumée n'avait pas bloqué sa vue, il aurait tenté de s'échapper plus tôt plutôt que de s'arrêter pour se vanter. En l'état, il n'a pas fait le missile qui avait suivi la grenade à fumée. Il a certainement vu l'explosion. L'explosion a été assez intense pour non seulement détruire la mousse, mais le rebondir du mur et l'envoyer voler à travers la pièce. Juste au-dessus de la tête du directeur, en fait, qu'il a réussi à fixer avec un éblouissement d'acier pour le demi-moment avant qu'il ne tombe sur sa tête et sur le sol derrière lui. Roulant à ses pieds de nouveau, il garda cet éclat et riait de cœur, se demandant si ce robot idiot pensait vraiment qu'un seul missile pourrait oh oui ok que beaucoup pourraient le faire. Un demi-douzaine de petits missiles avides avait suivi son mouvement à travers les airs et avait décidé qu'il était une cible beaucoup plus sexy que n'importe lequel des autres, squishier, cibles dans la pièce. Il sortit ses ailes et les enveloppa une seconde à la fin, six explosions retentissant successivement. Semyaza est tombé lentement de la fumée, la peau brûlée et partiellement fondue de la chaleur, et a réussi à arracher "Tha' tout ce que tu' grouilles?" Comme si, pour répondre à sa question, il était couvert d'un torrent soudain d'eau. Le général Semyaza apprendrait un jour qu'il n'y a pas de temps convenable pour glousser. Mais ce n'est pas ce jour-là.

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

Le combat qui se déroulait devant semblait bien, mais il semblait alors que le directeur du robot pouvait se raviver grâce à de petits robots plus petits qui réparaient son corps. Baal décida qu'ils auraient aussi besoin de son aide dans cette bataille et il s'approcha de lui pour trouver le pouvoir d'un sort. C'est alors que quelque chose a semblé faire congeler Craftchenco pendant un moment et puis le robot est allé un chemin de guerre total pour essayer de les tuer et tirer des missiles et d'autres projectiles directement sur eux. Baal s'est défendu et a jeté son sort de bouclier. "Shield of Insidiousness" a-t-il dit clairement et une barrière d'entités démoniaques s'est formée autour de lui et a pris le coup de la plupart des attaques furieuses du robot. Une fois protégé, Baal a utilisé un autre sort et comme ses options étaient limitées grâce à son niveau de puissance actuel et au fait qu'ils combattaient un robot. "La Force Démonique!" Il cria, puis sortit sa paume en direction de Craftchenco. Presque immédiatement, le robot serait frappé par une vague invisible incroyablement puissante de force qui était assez forte pour briser le béton épais. Pour le bien de ses alliés temporaires qui tentent encore de combattre la bête métallique à proximité, il a essayé de garder son centre sur la part du robot qui n'était pas attaqué, mais il y avait des chances qu'ils puissent être écrasés par la vague de force.

Name: Baal Alias: Lord Baal Age: is actual age is unknown, but he has been around for over 4000 years. Gender: male Species: unknown, appears to be humanoid Personality: Baal is the definition of evil to many, his insidious nature and pleasure in using his powers to bring insanity and chaos over the vast dimensions have made him feared by most. Before he became Lord Baal, he wasn't evil and had a woman he loved dearly, but it was her murder and the death of most of his people that drove to hate those that had robbed him of so much that drove him to make his deal with the godlike demons known as the Dark Ones who were beyond human comprehension. Ever since his pact with the Dark Ones he plunged into darkness and his evil is immense. Baal is extremely cunning and will always try to find ways to manipulate others into doing what he wants. He is amazingly charismatic and persuasive, which is how he has been able to grow his cults on earth. His intelligence and ability to pray upon the human psyche makes him very formidable. Baal will show no mercy to his enemies and will delight in making them suffer as much as possible. He has forced mothers and fathers to watch their children die horribly as punishment for going against him. He has made children see their parents brutally murdered and try to turn them into cult members. Some would wonder why such an evil being could exist, Baal would answer that love was to blame. It was because he loved so much that his hatred made him into what he was now. Baal demands obediance from his followers and will regularly use terror and public killings to demonstrate his power and authority. Baal prefers to use his cult members to do tasks for him if they aren't of great importance and there is only one being he truly fears and that's God. His biggest flaws in terms of a mental weakness is his superiority complex and large ego. History: Baal was born millennia ago to a world very different from our own. It was a world of almost constant conflict and filled with brutality and savagery. His people whose name has slipped from history and memory were engaged in a massive war with the Ozarian empire. Baal grew up in the wake of this horrible conflict and saw many that were close to him die, but he still found love in a woman who called his sun and moon. Unfortunately for Baal she would be brutally murdered by Ozarian forces and made him watch before they tried to kill him. He was however saved by the Dark Ones when they heard his primeval scream of hatred at seeing his beloved killed. The demons made everything around them freeze as if time itself had stopped and then offered Baal the chance to see revenge by making a pact with them in exchange for his soul and eternal devotion. Baal agreed without a second thought thanks to the huge well of hatred inside him, and the Dark Ones give him a piece of their awesome power. Baal felt their black magic flow through him and the power was almost overwhelming. The demons then vanished and time seemed to revert back to normal. Baal immediately unleashed his new power and slaughtered all in his path. When the enemy forces were defeated, Baal saw that they had managed to kill all of his people and he was now the last of them. He soon had his vengeance and wiped out of the Ozarian empire. With his world a war torn wasteland, he sough to establish a new society, one that worshiped the Dark Ones. The demons soon returned to him and told of his quest to spread cults dedicated to them throughout all dimensions and Baal now consumed by his darkness fervently agreed to their task. After attaining the power to traverse dimensions, Baal began to spread the cults of the Dark Ones to many different worlds. Some worlds were too faithful and righteous to conquer, but he was immortal and could wait for a time when they would become weak in faith. Eventually he came this world in the distant past and was worshiped as the god Baal, gaining many much reverence. His cults spread by a large amount, but then the emergence of Christianity saw his cults become obsolete in the wake of the new religion and he dared to not challenge God seeing his great power. Baal decided that he would wait and come back to this dimension when Christianity was less powerful. He waited for thousands of years, but he has now returned. He played a role in influencing the formations of the hellfire clubs during the times of the founding fathers of America and he played a subtle role in the creation satanic cults. With the advent of the scientific age humanity has less faith in the Abrahamic religions and that has given Baal the power to start spreading his cults again. Every action has both a positive and negative reaction. Equipment: He is in possession of a number of powerful magic artifacts with dangerous properties. All of his artifacts are mystically bound to him and he can summon them to and from a sub-dimension when he needs them and they will vanish anyone else tries to use them. Fiend Staff: his demonic looking magical staff helps him focus his insane power and it has the power to transform into archaic weapons such as swords, spears and axes. Knife of Murder: He has ceremonial knife that he uses during rituals, which has the power to pierce the soul when he stabs someone with it. Ring of Gonnar: This ring that he wears in his right index finger allows him to traverse dimensions without the use of rituals. Robe of Flight: the robes he wears give him the ability to fly. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Baal controls incredibly powerful black magic taught to him by extra-dimensional demons and wields immense power that makes him appear to be like a god to his mortal followers. This magic grants him several abilities that he has mastered completely as well as a great number of spells. His knowledge in the black arts and the occult are immensely high. Immortality: he doesn't age and cannot die of old age, which is how he has been alive for thousands of years. The Black Arms of Hastor: This spell creates black demonic spectral arms that will assault his opponents both physically and spiritually. The Black Flames of Ondar: Baal shoots fire that made up of black hellish flames. Unlike ordinary fire it does more than just burn his enemies, it also burns the soul. Shield of Insidiousness: He creates a barrier of demonic spirits that can protect him from physical and spiritual attacks, the power of this barrier is determined by how much magic he puts into it. Nightmarish Illusions: This spell allows Baal to create frightening illusions to scare and distract his opponents. Demonic Force: Baal hits targets with a wave invisible force that can use to either knock things away or draw them closer to him. Fiendish Summoning: he can summon lowly demons from a hellish dimension to attack his enemies. The Eye of Madthros: By channeling a huge amount of magic Baal can assault his opponents' minds with horrifying images and terrible pain. They have to be looking into his eyes. Ritual of Corruption: This occult ritual that includes drinking Baal's blood is done to corrupt initiates in his cult and turn them to evil. It takes an hour to complete, but it's how his cult has grown so large. Mind of The Demon: This spell protects him from having his mind read or assaulted by psychic attacks. Weakness: All things holy can weaken him and silver is always a big weakness that can be exploited if used as a weapon. While his magic is incredibly powerful, it will become taxing on his body if he uses high powered spells for too long. The effects of his spells can be negated with black or white magic that is of greater strength than his power. Secret Hideout: His HQ is a dark castle that is located between dimensions. There are doors that are located throughout the world, but it requires black magic to open. It is guarded by demons and some of his high ranked cult members Relationships: His main relationship is with the Dark Ones and his cults, but he has made many enemies over the course of his reign of terror. The Angels of God: they are a group made up of divine angels and divinely powered followers of the Christian faith. They are his worst enemies and spread out across dimensions to battle his evil cults. Followers of Monotheist religions: Anyone who is believes in Christianity, Judaism and Islam are his enemies and he will try to see all three of these religions destroyed. The Dark Ones: they are extra-dimensional demons that grant Baal is power and they are the only authority that he bows to. They have plans for the multiverse, but it is secret between only them and Baal.

Fin du chapitre 1 Directeur : Juste après son attaque initiale, la machine a perdu tous les sens. WAR Machine mode ne lui a rien fait de plus qu'un solide en attente d'ordres, et en ce moment ses seuls oders sont de tuer tout le monde. Il a déclaré que l'une des cibles avait essayé d'attirer son attention. Puis deux formes de vie non humaines ont arrêté tout son mouvement. Il a ensuite attaqué le plus gros avec des missiles et des grenades pour lui tirer dessus. Puis un grand torrent d'eau descendit sur lui. L'eau n'arrêtait pas de descendre sur lui et commençait à s'infiltrer dans chaque coin et à craquer, réduisant ainsi tous ses systèmes électriques. Avec l'arrêt des avertissements de systèmes critiques, Craftchenco s'est déplacé pour boucher le trou, mais a été arrêté lorsque ses principaux systèmes ont commencé à s'arrêter. Dans ses derniers instants, Craftchenco a initié Protocole Deep Sea. Sa fonction principale était en dernier recours. Ça coulerait tout le temps. Bloc cellulaire au fond de la baie et tout le monde dedans. L'accord a été scellé quand deux choses différentes se sont produites; Blackwell avait brisé tout son chassie avant, et a détruit la cellule d'énergie cachée derrière elle. Le pouvoir d'émence est venu et a piétiné toute sa colonne vertébrale. La moitié supérieure du robot est tombée et il a fini l'entrée pour le protocole juste avant sa mort. Maintenant, il s'est couché là, un pic de métal sans vie. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Tout autour d'eux syrènes s'éteignaient, et les lumières rouges clignotaient, peu après la défaite du directeur. Une voix agaçante a commencé à parler: "Protocole Deep Sea est maintenant dans l'affect. Tout le personnel s'il vous plaît passer aux bateaux de sauvetage. Je répète... » Il a dit la même chose à nouveau et voer à nouveau. Puis quelques clics de grattage de métal fort ont pu être entendus, des clics de tonnerre fort. Peu de temps après les clics, vous pouviez sentir toute la sculpture commencer à se déplacer lentement, il était en train de sombrer dans la mer. La seule issue étant les larges portes ouvertes. Sur le côté, il y avait une marche de béton qui coulait et qui conduisait à l'amarrage. À la station se trouvait le sommet d'un sous-marin qui attendait les rogues. À l'intérieur se trouvait un vieil homme avec majordome mangeant, il avait l'air d'un sage paupier et attendait son invité. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ M. Sinister : Après avoir regardé la bataille, Sinister avait l'impression d'avoir accompli quelque chose. Mais il était un peu contrarié qu'il n'ait pas couvert toutes ses bases, ce qui a conduit à Deep Sea être mis dans l'affect. Mais Sinister ne s'inquiétait pas, ils ne se noient pas, et Jenkins les attendait. Il a sorti la liaison PDA et l'a allumée. Les voyous pourraient l'entendre, qu'il soit entre leurs mains ou non. Il s'est débarrassé de la gorge et a commencé à parler. "Congradations en réussissant votre premier examen enfantin. J'espère que tu t'es amusé avec Craftchenco. Avez-vous apprécié mon petit cadeau ajouté, c'était un ajout amusant, n'est-ce pas? La petite machine à tuer n'a pas déçu. Mais hélas, il est temps de partir. Il y a un sous-marin qui vous attend près du quai. Dans le sous-marin est Jenkins il est mon majordome. Assure-toi que tu joues bien ou qu'il te tue. Il t'emmènera dans un entrepôt que je possède. Amusez-vous bien! »

Name: Ek'ork Alias: The Founder/Eroric (those who cannot say his name call him Eroric) Age: 345 Gender: Male Species: Descender Personality: Ek'ork is a temperamental man. Most of the others of his species are all very respectful of their prince, but the human soon learn that he is quick to snap at any one. Like any prince when he ask for something he expects it no matter what, or there will be sever consequences. When coming to Earth he did not like their customs and traditions at all and had a problem adjusting. His mind is not one so easily conquered. It is vast, unlike humanity who can only use 5-16% of their brain capacity, his people can use up to 60% and it makes them different. They are numb to most human emotions and he does not quiet understand right and wrong just yet. History: Ek'ork lived as a prince on his home world, it was a dying planet and his people knew that, they understood that it was a dog eat dog world and the royalty had the biggest say in anything. Due to his fathers falling health it was getting close to the crowning ceremony, where the prince eats the father while he dies. In his society the minds of the people are connected by a mind link. Being an all male society, the more dominant males have royal blood in their veins and have better control over the others, acting as the queen bee of the planets hive. While the weaker males have little to know royal blood and are the worker bees. Ek'ork was next in line to take over the crown , which is know as the nexus. The Nexus is the hub for the mental links, which is why the kings get older and older as the years go on. So the previous king will find another 'proper' male and they would grow an egg using both of their genes. This is how Ek'ork came to be, his father (mother) was a warrior and fought in the many different wars waged by his people, while his other father (father/the king) has been ruling for 1000 years. He has just reached maturity and was now fit for the crown and just as he finished eating his father alive and accepting the Nexus, his world puffed out its last breath. Everything was falling apart and now as king Ek'ork had made the decision to leave, grabbing his only reaming father and trusted advisers, he left the little red world and watched it explode. HE could feel the instant deaths of millions of his people and it was a pain he will never forget. They found Earth by accident and thought it was a world easily inhabited. So they landed in secret and soon began to watch the humans before striking. There were only about 250 of his people left and after 5 years of observation they strike. What he did not know was that they had been found out and the humans were ready for him. 3 years of long war later and his population had been dropped down to 65. He called for peace and bought it with advanced technology and money. After the war he bought he and his people their 'humanity' and American Citizenship he took up home in Lochwell. He was, is, and will be an impatient man so he did not really get human customs and traditions until he ate one. This is how his people relay information form other people. They did not even speak English or any other Earth language until he ate his first human. WGUF-What Got You Famous: After the war and a few years of living in Lochwell, Ek'ork was called in by the president for a 'check-up' and followed suit. He went ot the white house and met the previous president, an arrogant man who did very many disrespectful looking things to Ek'ork's POV. Growing enraged by the minute Ek'ork finally snapped and ate the man. The first human he every ate was the president of the united states and he did it in a savage manner. Blood and leftover body parts could be seen throughout the Oval Office. He was apprehended on the spot and sent to ICF for permanent incarceration. His people were not reprimanded though and still run his gang on the outside. Equipment: He has a war suit that he wears during combat. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents:His people are naturally strong in nature, being able to life ten times their weight like ants, they also have their own martial arts system. He was trained by a warrior and bred for combat. His strikes are hard and he can kill anything in 10 different ways or more. He is a hunter and has instincts like one. Due to him having the Nexus his brain usage jumps to 75%. This gives him prime control over his own body. He can control two different things, his density. Making himself as light as a feather, giving him flight, or as heavy and hard as a star, giving him an added punch. Ek'ork can phase through objects as well bye reducing his density to allow him to go through solid objects, or vice versa. Weakness: Ek'ork is a King of his people, this mean a lot. The Nexus is a heavy burden and even though he will not die for many thousands of years (due to low population) Using the Nexus is a great burden and a last resort. After it gets used he needs time to recover from fatigue, duration depending on how long he has been using. He is not bullet proof by any means, only when he is using the Nexus, but during normal combat he can be shot and cut and broken like anyone else. Also his massive structure is a problem in many cases, small confined spaces are not his forte and he sends people do that for him. Secret Hideout: The Mothership of his people is hidden some where in the Pacific ocean, but their base of operations and only access point is in a bar owned by him. Relationships:

Rose a regardé autour des autres un moment avant de leur donner un huff. Elle est revenue dans sa recherche plus humaine. Elle avait cependant remarqué Baal, quelqu'un qu'elle avait connu auparavant. Rose a dû admettre que la bataille n'était pas vraiment facile, si elle avait été humaine, elle aurait eu un temps plus facile, mais les robots étaient à l'abri de beaucoup de ses attaques. Après avoir vu le général Semyaza sortir de la fumée brûlée plus tôt, elle ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de rire un peu, cet être était très amusant pour elle. "Vous devez apprendre une limite que vous savez?" Rose a dit de marcher vers le général et de le regarder. Rose était beaucoup plus courte que cet homme, mais elle était sûre qu'elle était plus puissante que lui, même sous sa forme humaine. Il finirait probablement par être son nouveau jouet tant que Baal n'a pas essayé de le voler. Rose s'est dirigée vers le sous-marin devant eux, une fois qu'elle a vu le majordome, tout ce qu'elle pouvait penser était d'essayer de le manger. Cependant, une fois qu'elle a entendu le PDA partir, elle a aussi entendu qu'il était censé être là, et en vérité, elle ne savait pas piloter un sous-marin de toute façon. Finalement, elle a trouvé un tabouret sur lequel aller et s'asseoir, il a commencé à flotter un peu en s'asseyant dessus. C'était sympa de pouvoir à nouveau utiliser ses pouvoirs maintenant et elle allait en profiter autant qu'elle le pouvait.

Name: Rose Grinda Alias: Bloody Rose Age: Looks 16 is actually around the age 500 years old Gender: Female Species: Witch Personality: Rose is a very quiet girl for the most part. However when provoked she will start to scream like a banshee and act erratically sometimes walking on the ceilings even. One her favorite ways to lure in pray is start crying to attract attention to herself, then once her victim comes in close enough she executes whatever plan she may have for that person, be it eating them, or making them see their worse night mare. Rose has no actual goal other than to cause misery to everyone she deems a deserving of facing misery. History: Rose was born in the town of Salem just before the witch trials began. She had a loving family however her mother was later accused of witch craft and burned at the stake. After witnessing this Rose ran into the forest soon getting herself lost. She eventually found a cave that was blocked off with many warning signs. She went into the cave despite the warning signs seeing it as shelter. As she went deeper into the cave she noticed many different glowing crystals. All of them were glowing red, and seemed to glow brighter when she got closer to them. As Rose went to sleep that night she started to hear voices, many of them offering kind words to her. The voices even taught Rose various things, one of them was what they called “The oath of Joy.” Which was actually a ritual where one paints a symbol onto their hands and stomach then recites a few lines before being possessed in exchange for immense power. After being possessed Rose returned to Salem now a full blown witch of immense power. She killed those who had wronged her mother, she killed each of them in dark places however that weren’t in the public eye. Some were killed at brothels, others killed in taverns. Once Rose finished her business in Salem she left the town that was now in utter chaos accusing each other of being witches. Rose continued to live as an urban legend in various places for the next 500 years, showing misery to others who came in her path, and killing and eating those she deemed a threat. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Rose was made famous through the urban legends of her luring in and terrorizing victims who then spent the rest of their lives in mental institutes. She really became famous however when there was a horror movie made about her that was extremely popular, it was called “The Bloody Rose.” Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Rose can be torn apart but she will always live through it, however she can be killed through burning her however keeping her still for that is the hard part. Rose also has various magical abilities, one of them being that she can change her body into that of a Creature with a giant mouth that can eat a person in two bites. Rose can make various objects in a room float as long as they are the size of a small lamp. Another power of Rose is illusions as well as levitation. Weakness: Fire is her most well-known weakness however she has another weakness of being trapped by circles of salt, or just salt in general. Salt prevents her from using her abilities as well. Relationships:

Mes limites n'ont été testées qu'une seule fois dans toute mon existence. Semyaza a dit, encore un peu bu un coup de poing. Il n'a pas mentionné qu'il avait été trouvé voulant dans ce test. Marcher jusqu'au corps tombé du directeur, il l'a saisi sous le menton et a commencé à tirer. Ses muscles bourdonnaient naturellement et, accompagné d'un bruit criant de métal déchirant et d'un coup de fil, il déchirait la tête du robot et le plaçait sur son épaule pour le porter. Ajustant le poids jusqu'à ce qu'il soit satisfait qu'il puisse basculer la tête confortablement, il partit vers les portes de la baie et le sous-marin.

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

Falcon a regardé la machine cassée. Il semblait vaincu, mais ensuite il avait regardé de cette façon aussi bien avant. Pour être certain, il a sorti le bloc de puissance denté de sa cavité thoracique et lui a donné quelques bons coups avec sa barre de métal. Mieux vaut être sûr que désolé, après tout. Le sol secoua, le conduisit à un genou, mais la sécurité était en vue, et n'importe où qui était en vue, il pouvait l'être. Il se déplaçait dans la chaleur du soleil, en s'y baissant pour la première fois depuis des semaines, quand le PDA dans sa poche s'enfuit à nouveau. Le message et le ton étaient infurieusement condescendant, mais il a retenu sa langue de faire une remarque coupante à l'appareil. Il devait sa liberté à cet homme, pour qu'il puisse tolérer un peu de manque de respect. Juste combien resterait à voir, mais pour l'instant, il était déterminé à être civil. Falcon s'approcha de l'embarcation et acclama le majordome, s'approchant pour lui serrer la main.

Name: James Edward Falcon Allias: Falcon Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Human Powers: Falcon can cause objects around him to change size, growing or shrinking into perfect scale replicas of themselves without changing density. A secondary ability allows him to teleport to anywhere he can see. Appearance: Falcon has narrow grey eyes set above a prominent nose and a slim, clean-shaven face. He keeps his dark hair short, and was typically known to go around in a smartly-tailored business suit and tie. His torso is solidly built though not overly muscular, and his long legs take him to a height of 190 centimetres. (Picture to come) History: James Falcon came into his abilities as a young man and, seeing that his powers were less well suited to flying though the skyline fighting criminals, he instead entered the world of business. His talent for growth and long-term strategic thinking saw him rise to prominence at a young age. Because of his belief that superbeings should use their abilities to make the world better, he put much of his wealth funding altruistic projects. He put money into refugee camps and disaster relief, and funded drug research and subsidies where he felt that the government was falling short. As time passed and his business empire grew, his philanthropy also branched out to supporting political campaigns of candidates he felt had good priorities, then to supporting the cases of criminals whose actions he believed were justified, such as those who used dubious methods to expose corruption or exploitation. It was when he was found to be sheltering two of these men in his mansion while police were searching for them that he himself was arrested for obstructing the course of justice and trumped up charges related to his use of financial resources to exert undue influence on politics. James did not resist his arrest and agreed to stand trial, confident in his assertions that the good he did for the world far outweighed the bad and that others would see that and overlook his breaking the letter of the law for upholding its spirit. He was dead wrong. A number of his political and business rivals piled in on the case, pushing for as harsh a sentence as possible, and he was sent to prison for five years. As a regular prison would be unable to hold him and no suitable facility was near to hand, he was extradited and sent to a secure facility designed to hold the most hardened violent supervillains, the ICF. Horrified and insulted by this turn of events, he brooded on his anger and frustration, and so the supervillain Falcon was born. The people who had put him here, he decided, were incompetent fools. He had spent a long time plugging holes in a broken system with his own hard work and donations, but to truly help, much more would be required. The whole system needed to be broken down and rebuilt from the ground up, and the people in charge needed to know what they were doing and be able to see it through. People like Falcon. This would be his new mission in life, and arriving in jail, he had plenty of time to plan. Personality: James Falcon is not an impulsive man. Rather, in all things he prefers a cautious, calculating, strategic approach. To him, knowledge is power and the way to get what one wants is by careful planning and precise execution. He prefers his own company when ruminating on these things and reacts irritably to distraction, though he will happily share his ideas and talk at length at more appropriate times. He is possessed of great determination and drive to reach his goals, and, facilitated by his approach above, has usually been successful. He truly does want to make the world a better place, but this ambition has been twisted by his anger and frustration about the ineffectiveness of government at achieving meaningful changes. He has become proud, vengeful and ruthless. Strengths: Falcon’s most formidable asset is his strong intellect, which allows him to use his abilities to full effect in a number of situations. This is backed up by his sharp senses and good reflexes. Weaknesses: Falcon’s teleportation ability only enables him to move within his line of sight, which limits its usefulness when it’s dark or his vision is otherwise obscured. He can take one other person with him or an equivalent amount of material, but no more. His size altering powers do not work on himself or any other humans. He dislikes being thrust into situations without warning, as his best strength comes from planning ahead and being able to control his environment. Secret Hideout: As mentioned above, Falcon is not from Lochwell City, so he has no current base in the city. What he does have, however, is his emergency Swiss bank account, which he started when he first entered business and has been feeding ever since in case some unforeseen disaster should make the rest of his fortune inaccessible. Equipment: For now, a prison jumpsuit. But just you wait until he can get out and get creative! Relationships: James has immense respect for The Chief, a superhero from his hometown who doesn’t just catch criminals, but spends just as much time using his abilities to be helpful to law-abiding people. This is supering done right, in his opinion. “Superbeings are not bound by the laws of men. We are born with the power to break the laws of nature itself, and are bound to step in and use that power when ordinary systems fail to protect mankind. I spent years trying to prop up the current system and plug its gaps with my powers, never realising that what it was beyond all hope of repair. Similarly, I reject my sentence under your legal code and instead answer to a higher moral law. It now demands that I step in not to uphold civilisation, but to destroy it. I will burn everything down to the bedrock and start over, This time, I will be in charge and I will see things done right.”

Nihil s'est levée du sol. Il semblait que le combat était terminé, mais elle était intéressée à partir rapidement. Elle avait peu de goût pour la prison maintenant, et le directeur de la robotique pourrait se relever une fois de plus. Rile lui a parlé et s'est intéressée à la connaître. Nihil avait déjà regretté de sauver la fille. Elle n'avait aucun intérêt à se faire des amis, un exercice qui serait inutile pour quelqu'un comme Nihil. Alors que le groupe faisait passer leur exeunt Nihil rapidement au-delà de Riley, s'exprimant brusquement alors qu'elle passait, « Ne pensez pas que nous sommes amis juste parce que je vous ai sauvés. » Elle a dit carrément. Le sous-marin était maintenant devant elle, une arche proverbiale pour sauver les rouges. Nihil est entré dans le véhicule, prêtant peu d'attention au majordome ou à l'agaçante dispute de 'M. Sinister dans son oreille. Elle n'avait qu'un seul intérêt à l'extérieur des murs de la prison, et il n'y avait certainement pas ce groupe de rougeurs. Pour l'instant, sa coopération avec eux n'était qu'un moyen de parvenir à une fin, né d'un intérêt pour les ressources que leur sauveur pourrait offrir. Elle est entrée à l'intérieur du véhicule, trouvant un endroit tranquille s'asseoir loin de la circulation à pied du reste du navire.

Emma Summers | Nihil Age: 29 Gender: Female Species: Human History: In the year 1986 a new kind of weapon was bred in the wind-swept desert of Afghanistan. The pressure of the Cold War has been on a steady rise, and it soon exploded in conflict. The Russian invasion of Afghanistan created a new warzone for the US to fight a proxy war against communism. Naturally they sided against Russia, supporting the Afghani Mujahideen. This war served as the backdrop of a highly illegal and highly unethical experiment conducted in the dark depths of the US Military-Industrial Complex by a secret group of researchers, unknown to all but a very select number of US Government officials. The question was simple: How does one create the perfect soldier? The first solution was technological: A serum that greatly increased the physical capabilities of a solider, additionally bestowing them with a number of 'super powers' that would aid them in their job. The second was much darker. In science there is an experiment that is considered taboo. Dubbed "The Forbidden Experiment". What would happen to someone if they were deprived of exposure to language of any sort? The researchers designed an evocative experiment: A child deprived of human contact. Taught by machines. Gradually exposed to the world through video and picture. Kept in peak physical condition. Raised by technology to be a soldier that had no regard for human life or their own life, instilled with unflinching obedience. Combined with their newly invented 'super-serum' this child was to be the ultimate soldier. The child had no name, but the researchers gave her a nickname: Nihil. A Latin word best described as meaning 'the absence of anything'. Nothingness. It was at the age of twelve that Nihil was given her first mission. The Soviet–Afghan War was already over, but the Cold War was still on and researchers were eager to see the fruits of their labor. An operation was called by the general who was privy to the details of the experiment, buried in layers of deniability. The mission was simple: Capture a Soviet outpost. It was a task for a group of highly trained soldiers. Instead a little girl was sent in. The mission, needless to say, was a success. Nihil proved to be highly capable in combat, and it seemed that all the programming and experimenting had indeed created the perfect soldier. As time went on the US's 'secret soldier' went on more missions, always proving successful against the most unlikely of odds. Every time it was the same: She'd receive her orders, be dropped into the hot zone, carry out her mission, exfiltrate, and then return to isolation, or to the training room connected to her cell, but she still always never saw a single person. The only times she had human contact was through the scope of a rifle. The only voices she heard where the screams of her targets. But something had to give, the shroud of isolation couldn't be kept forever. There was one variable that the researcher's couldn't control: Themselves. They weren't bad people... or maybe they were, but they felt remorse. Some of them were unable to handle the kind of research they were doing. Some were entirely uncaring, seeing Nihil as nothing more than a subject. But almost all of them were quelled by their paycheck. Almost. One of them faced the ultimate struggle: Love. One of the researchers who spent countless hours observing Nihil came to feel a strange paternal affection for the girl who he had twisted into a soldier. It happened slowly, but it happened nonetheless. One day Nihil was sitting in her cell, as she always had, when something unexpected came through the slit in the door that had always delivered only food: A flower, and a note. The clean, white, sterile, surgical cell, devoid of anything but the basic necessities of life and a computer screen through which she had been educated had suddenly been invaded by a small speck of color. The facility rose in a panic. Their carefully controlled experiment had suddenly been thrown askew. The never anticipated one of their own going so far in mutiny. Nihil picked up the note, felt the paper. The words which she had only ever seen etched into a computer screen. Researchers scrambled. She couldn't read it, they couldn't let her. It would likely destroy their work. As the mutinous researcher had been carried away, the door to Nihil's cell opened and for the first time she had seen a face on the other side of it. A stern face, a human face, reaching for the note. Suddenly her world had been thrown into question. Thoughts that never came to her, question that she had never come to ask. Who was she? Who were they? What are they? Who are the people she killed? Why did she exist? Something snapped inside her. She understood that they did something wrong to her, the note made it clear. The girl easily overpowered the researcher, slamming his face against the wall and leaving a bloody smear. Their experiment was over. How could it succeed? No one can stem the very basis of human nature. They had reached too far. The girl they bred for war, of course, had no problem escaping from their confines after that. What was once a sterile research lab was sullied by blood. No one in the research staff, not one of the guards, nor one of the numerous other unholy experiments, not one of the janitors, or the maintenance workers, or the soldiers lived. They had created a monster. An unfeeling monster that wanted nothing more than to feel. As she emerged from the depths of the facility she emerged into a unknown environment. She had only ever known desert and mountains and the lab. This place was different. The mountains reached taller, scraping against the sky above. The ground was not sand, but concrete. Around her stood none of the 'Soviets' she had been taught were the enemy. Instead she was surrounded by people. Unfamiliar people. Numerous people, countless people. They stared at her: A teenage girl soaked in blood, carrying a rifle, clothing tattered. One of them called the police. Nihil was already gone, running away into a world she knew very little about. Soon after that she found herself taken back into the fold of the US Military. Escaping wouldn't be that easy. It had been something they had prepared for. They could track her, of course. But things were different as she returned. She came to learn the name of the general in charge of the experiment: Brook. General Dalton Brook. He, like many of the researchers, came to see that the experiment was a mistake, so he extended an offer to reintegrate her into society with support from to government. The price was simple: Nihil's secrecy. No one would know where she came from. She wanted to know what life was like outside of confinement. She agreed. She was soon re-educated, placed into an apartment, taught how to live like a 'normal' person. They gave her money. They gave her freedom. They gave her a name, Emma. They even let her join the VA. She was technically still a veteran, after all. But it wasn't enough for her. How could it be? She soon came to recognize what they took from her. What she could never get back. She was still a warrior, no matter what they did. She still couldn't feel like any other person. She still couldn't know what it was like to really be normal. So she disappeared, again. This time she made sure they couldn't follow. She used her powers to escape, again, and never looked back. She also promised herself one thing: She would exact revenge upon General Dalton Brook. After that she slipped into the criminal underworld. By day she kept on her mask: The mask of a normal person, pretending to feel the emotions she could never feel. By night she was a rouge. Her powers made her a natural fit. She still only knew how to be a soldier. Assassination was her trade. She still felt nothing when she took a life. She felt no remorse. She wanted to hurt the people who hurt her and the people who didn't hurt her. She wouldn't be satisfied until everyone bled. But one thing still kept her sane. One thing kept her from being a psychopath: The memory of the flower and the note she had received from the one person who had loved her. The note she still kept with her. The note no one else would ever see. Part of her wanted to hurt, but part of her wanted to feel. Part of her wanted to discover the emotions she never knew. As the years went on she felt her life become meaningless. She only lived to live. The feeling still wasn't there. She came to realize he joy that she once thought she felt when she killed was false, engineered by the researchers. She still wanted to kill Dalton Brook, but it seemed unattainable. He was half a world away. She felt trapped. And then one day during her 'late night activities' she was caught by a hero. Captain Power. She could've escaped. It would've been easy with her powers. But she gave up. She let herself get caught. He was confused, but took her in. And that was it. She was sent to prison, buried behind layers of security designed to prevent her escape. She couldn't be stopped. Ironically her powers made escape quite easy for her. But she didn't care. It was just like old times. "I can leave whenever I want." Personality: Nihil is devoid of emotion. She strives for it, but it's always out of reach. She's only felt emotion twice: Hatred for the people who authorized the experiments conducted on her, and a small moment of happiness hen she read a letter penned by the only person who has loved her. She is almost entirely apathetic towards existence, only driven by her goal to kill General Dalton Brook. She has no friends, has never tried to make any friends, and is seemingly unable to make friends. How can someone with no emotion have friends? She's entirely confident in her abilities, convinced that nothing can stop her, no matter how incorrect that might be. She rarely speaks, and isn't very easy to work with, instead preferring to operate solo. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Nihil's principal talent is mastery with almost all forms of weaponry. She is a highly skilled marksman, able to use a sniper rifle to make shots that no normal human can make. She has a supreme reaction time and can slow her breathing to the point where it is almost impossible to discern if she is actually alive. Her senses are also highly heightened, furthering her skill as a marksman. Her skill with guns is so great that she can shoot the individual blades of a helicopter while they are in motion. She has been trained in the art of 'gun-kata', a form of martial arts that integrates hand to hand techniques with gunplay and the statistical study of a gunfight, allowing her to very accurately predict and then react to the patterns that her enemies will use, making her a very deadly foe against groups of enemies. She is of course, by extension, highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. The serum given to her also has imbued her with more 'super-human' abilities. She is more durable than an average person, able to survive a number of gunshots or a long fall, has strength comparable to a man twice her size. One of her principal abilities is they power to move at speeds that are almost imperceptible, appearing as little more than a blur. Additionally she can jump much higher than the average human, around the height of 20 feet. This allows her supreme mobility, letting dart quickly across the battlefield in a blink of an eye. Weakness: Nihil's first weakness is her highly heightened senses. Although this at first seems to strictly be an advantage she is prone to sensory overload, extreme smells or loud sounds can have highly adverse effects on her. Additionally it is worth nothing that although she is more durable than the average human, unlike many super humans she is still very susceptible to gunshots or other physical damage. She might be durable, but she is very far from invulnerable. Finally the super-serum has had some adverse effects on her. She is prone to intense migraines, which in the past has not served her well in battle. The serum may have more negatory side-effects that remain unseen. Secret Hideout: Nihil has no secret hideout, only a shitty apartment, Relationships: The only feeling Nihil has for any person is the hate she feels for the General.

Riley a seulement ri des mots simples de Nihil. "Oh, j'aime cette fille," elle s'est cognée en regardant Nihil revenir. Ses paumes maintenant sèches, elle pouvait sentir son feu gagner en force, et Riley secoua la tête comme un chien mouillé une fois de plus avant de l'éteindre. Je ne voulais pas aller fumer le sous-marin qui était apparu en théâtre avec l'annonce de M. Sinister. Riley est monté à sa porte, et est entré. Elle s'est tournée vers le majordome - un vieil homme épinglé, mais apparemment mortel si M. Sinister devait être fait confiance - et a demandé conspirationnellement, "N'importe quelle chance vous pourriez nous brancher avec des armes? Des poignards? Je prendrais un couteau à steak à ce stade." Riley a fait son chemin vers l'arrière du sous-marin, prenant un tabouret et le traînant entre ses jambes. En l'attachant à de larges genoux, elle s'empare du coude contre le mur lisse et frais et s'appuie sur son temple contre le talon de sa main. Elle attendait avec impatience un certain temps d'arrêt maintenant que l'adrénaline du combat s'évanouissait lentement et que le frisson de la liberté perdait sa douceur débordante. Et dans la rancune de cela, je vous rappelle silencieusement pourquoi Riley avait choisi de se lier à une équipe d'étrangers - puissants, et juste un peu fou. Je vais t'atteindre, Naomi. Riley battait ses doigts contre la surface du métal courbé, puis les enroulait dans un poing. Son regard était vacant, ne voyant pas le vieux majordome ou les autres Rogues, mais une fille aux cheveux filés d'or et un sourire qui vient de rayonner le soleil. Riley était sombre en ce qui la concerne, avec du sang sur ses mains et assez de péchés pour constituer un enfer de curriculum vitae pour que Satan se régale, mais en quelque sorte aucune de cette corruption n'avait touché Naomi, malgré leur proximité, leur ADN partagé. Attendez-moi, s'il vous plaît.

Name: Riley Pielwood Alias: NA Age: 20 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: Snarky and with a love for sharp humour, Riley wouldn’t immediately come across as psychotic to those she meets. Fun-loving and highly appreciative of a few chuckles, Riley makes careless remarks and laughs whenever she will. Though bright and energetic, she hides her claws and filed teeth behind her wide smile, tucked away until her hackles have been raised. Her laughter is bark-like and sharp, as is her bite. She likes teasing people and ribbing them in good fun, but nowhere near as much as she enjoys seeing an expression ranging from dismay to horror to panic to pain unfurl over a face, and knowing she has put it there. She enjoys herself a fair dose of chaos, might instigate it now and then, but she has found that dropping in during the second act isn’t all too bad either. She has an intense weakness for challenges too, and can’t stand being bored, especially if mundane people let her down and fail to fulfill her amusement quota. Sarcasm and sardonicism keep her entertained during lull periods. She doesn’t particularly need to see blood to be satisfied – hasn’t got much of an appetite for it, to be frank – but she will draw it to prove a point if need be. Vindictive, she can get childishly petty and vengeful when she doesn’t get her way. Needless to say, she is not the most mature, but she will do anything for her little sister Naomi. History: Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. It was a crumbling union of two unfortunate souls too prideful to separate that Riley witnessed as a toddler, loathed as an child and overlooked as an adolescent. It helped matters none when her mother got pregnant again and Riley got herself a younger sister at nine. Of course, it was left to Riley to look after the thing right after it was weaned. It took all of six months for her to get attached to little Naomi, but once she began to feel warmth uncoiling in her stomach when looking at the ankle-biter’s rosy cheeks and guileless gummy smile, she was stupidly loyal to a baby. By then, she had gotten herself into a few scuffles, though nothing serious. She would return home with bloody knuckles and bruises blooming anywhere imaginable and her baby sister would brush her chubby grasp over the tender spots on Riley’s skin like a whisper. Their parents had never been big on gentle physical touch, and Riley absolutely lived for those moments. She never lost a fight, and came home daily to coo over Naomi as the dull aches slowly pulsed into faded muscle memory. Their parents slowly spiraled further and further away, eventually becoming so detached and in need of remedy that the dining table was empty more often than not, as they spent their days languishing in numb, alcohol-induced limbos. That however didn’t bother Riley as much as how bone-dry Naomi’s bottle was getting, and when Naomi got a fever Riley was thrown into absolute panic. She considered it a miracle her sister hadn’t gotten sick earlier – the darkened flat hadn’t been feather-brushed in years, much less properly cleaned, and Riley’s cheeks were growing gaunt and hollow to keep Naomi’s plump but almost, it would seem, to no avail. Riley could see it all – the hunger, the pain – diminishing to naught as she perched owlishly by the crib, desperately clinging onto Naomi’s pudgy fist as she screamed and her face turned ruddy and her little voice choked on her own tears. The next morning in school, a boy passed a mindless comment that sent Riley rocketing off her seat. She was sick with worry, and the boy was a brainy bespectacled thing who deserved all her resentment because he came from a house that wasn’t falling apart and parents with a love as deep as their wallets. He couldn’t even fight her off with his own fists. Instead, he begged her to stop and tried to sweeten the plea with money. Riley almost scoffed, until she realised what he was offering and plucked him off the ground. He meekly handed her five dollars, but a shaking of his shoulders and a snarl in his pasty face raised the sum to a princely fifteen. With that money, Riley was able to buy milk formula for Naomi. Given another two recesses and a whole playground full of potential victims with cushy families, Riley could pay for a trip to the doctor’s. She attracted strange stares in the waiting room, as she cradled a squalling baby in knobby arms and with cheeks smudged as dark as soot, but she glared at the receptionist and nurses and patients who were all just blockades between Naomi and the doctor until they tore their eyes to the ground. Naomi got better, but Riley continued to bully the kids, until the pantry was stocked up again and Riley herself began to fill out. When she was twelve, upperclassmen who had seen her exploits during recess where the teachers couldn’t see invited her to play truant with them. She surveyed them warily at first, until they mentioned money. By the time Riley was thirteen, she had become a bully outside of the playground, and ran around with a gang of youths who were all older than her but headed in the same direction. Rogues had already started becoming an issue then, and these gangly adolescents with enough tar in their lungs to reline roads and tattoos snaking around their bodies like vices fantasised living lives of obscene wealth, play, and skullduggery. They got up to mischief on a daily basis; Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. Even if the gang was majorly made up of dim bulbs and dull tools, Riley was saving up handsomely, and they made her laugh and lightened her heart even if they lived a story set against the most grim of backgrounds. Plus, her thick-as-thieves associates in malice would have gladly jumped a bullet for Naomi, now at four a cute rascal with a smile to melt even the ringleader’s heart and enough naivety to shame Riley, and she was grateful for any protection they could offer, now that she had gotten herself involved in risky business. But she lived every day laughing and playing with her sister, running around and wreaking havoc around town with teenagers as mad and starved for the intangible as her, and it was a good life to live. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. But because the one above was too long, I added in this summarised version, because I can understand it would be a pain to read through the whole thing. Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. She later had a little sister by the name of Naomi at the age of nine, who came to care intensely for. She would often get into fights in school, but always came home to Naomi and for that she was grateful. Their parents then stopped providing for them, and it worried Riley that Naomi was getting less and less fed. When Naomi got a fever Riley was worried sick, and after beating up a rich boy in school realised she could extort money from her classmates, using what she unjustly earned to buy milk formula for Naomi, pay for her health, and feed the family again. When she was twelve, she became involved with a gang of youths who were all older than her but filled to the brim in the head with fantasies of being rogues. Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. She stayed on because she was earning and learning, and running amok with these people lifted her spirits. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. What Got You Famous: The same problem happened; I'm so sorry. And she did. She did do her job, got herself paid and told to rest on her laurels until something else came along and they called on her duty again. She did her job several times over, and did it well even if it would make her stomach turn. But she overcame her squeamishness quickly enough, and only pursed her lips when she did her job. But somebody else didn’t. Somebody else screwed up, and Riley was awakened one night by Naomi’s screaming, her parents’ shouting, and the door to her room being kicked down. She was seventeen. A seventeen-year-old girl caught in her bed in nothing but boxers and a singlet, eyes still bleary from sleep and squinting into the spotlight shone on her, as her little sister cried at the doorway, held back by parents who now gave their undivided attention. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly what the ARGO team had been expecting when they crashed into her house on an overnight mission to round-up members of a rogue organisation they had just dismantled, because there was a beat of absolute silence from the officers – armed with impressive weaponry and decked out in bulletproof vests and suits which all looked overdone now – before they started to order her to the ground, voices ricocheting in the cramped room. When Riley failed to comply, one of them reached forward to roughly drag her off the bed. But it had been a long time since Riley had slept, sure of her safety. Before the officer could even blink, she had dragged the serrated edge of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow into the flesh of his underarm. Howling, he let her go, falling back and failing his arm so that blood flew everywhere. Pandemonium peaked, and Pandora’s box opened in that room itself as voices exploded and rifles were whipped into the hunter’s crouch, aimed right at her heart. Another soldier tried to advance, and the hand holding the dagger twitched to right beside her ear, ready to be thrown. Caught in this stalemate, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who broke free of her parents’ hold to push against the back of an officer’s legs, desperate to get through, crying for Riley even though her entire front was splattered with another man’s blood. The officer turned sharply then, every instinct lit and every nerve strung high, and swung the barrel of his rifle down as he peered at Naomi. It was aimed right at her sister. I cannot lose her. With a flick of her wrist that was too easy – so familiar, so simple – Riley threw the dagger. It embedded itself deeply in the chink of armour that had been revealed as the soldier craned his neck downwards. In a spray of blood from the back of his neck, the soldier gave a last sputter and fell. A body was flung at her, pinning her at once against the floor. Riley landed on her back, the breath flattened out of her. She started to wrestle with the man, scratching at his face and knocking his visor askew, all the while hearing the high-pitched shrieks of Naomi. She made a claw-like shape with her hand, whipping it forth to rake her nails down the man’s face. Unexpectedly, the man yowled anew when tongues of flame licked his face. His comrades who had scrambled to save the fallen life whirled around to find Riley struggling to her feet, gazing in awe at her right hand now swallowed in fire. She looked up, to see soldiers with eyes full of intent to bring her down, and waved her arm around, a torch that roared with life as she yelled, “Stand back!” Obstinately, the team advanced, and she flung her hand at them. Fire sprung to life behind a man’s ears, and he scrambled to beat it out. But try as he might he continued to burn. New screams filled the room, and hesitantly the team began to recoil. There was a window just paces away from where Riley stood. She was just about to leap for it, when she heard Naomi – all screams now dead – whimper, “Make it stop.” It was enough to strike Riley dumb; that pause was enough for what remained of the force to bring her down and innovatively bag and handcuff her hands. But she remained limp, lifeless, beneath them, hearing on endless repeat Naomi’s plea. Once she was hauled upright to be taken away, Riley bent to Naomi’s level long enough to say goodbye, before she was heaved into an armoured truck; before she could say – hypocritically – stay out of trouble, be good; before she could hear her sister burst into tears again. Riley’s story gained renown. After all, a girl whose hand spontaneously combusts into flame is never conventional. Reporters craving a juicy story martyred her when word got out how subdued she became once she heard her little sister call out for her. The efforts to make her a saint only intensified when a journalist shallowly researched her background to hit upon the sheer depth of Riley’s care for Naomi. But it was all useless, because Riley was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, locked away somewhere by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content, and no amount of media press was ever going to get her out. Naomi worked with the organisation for a while, fully aware that it was nasty business but getting over her qualms about it for the money she and Naomi were dependent on. But then somebody made a mistake, and an ARGO team came to round up members of the rogue organisation they managed to dismantle. They kicked down their way into her room before the eyes of her parents and Naomi. They woke her up abruptly, and when one of them tried to roughly drag her off the bed, she cut him with the dagger she slept beneath her pillow. Both parties conscious that the other was dangerous, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who pushed against the back of an officer’s legs, trying to get to Riley. The officer turned at the push, and swung his rifle in such a way that the barrel was aimed at Naomi. Afraid at once of losing her sister, Riley threw the dagger and it cut into the back of the soldier’s neck. One of the men pinned her to the floor, and while trying to fight him off, Riley’s hand burst into flame, causing him to yowl and fly back. Riley used her hand now aflame to ward them off, and set a man’s ears on fire from a distance. This gave the rest of the team cause to pause, and while Riley thought about jumping out the window as the men all burned at her feet, she heard Naomi whimper, “Make it stop.” The fight left Riley then, and she was immediately hauled away. Her story gained renown, for the sheer shock factor of Riley’s inflammatory powers, and the selling point that was her love for her sister. Riley however was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, and locked away by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content. Equipment: Daggers. Lots and lots of daggers. She has a belt to carry rows of them like teeth, but she lost it when she was taken into custody from her home. But she has plans to fashion a new one from scratch if need be. Powers/Abilities: Knife-handling. Riley can severely injure anyone with a blade in hand, and even out of hand. Her daggers always fly in the trajectory she wants. She can control flame as well. Fire will burst to life in her palms, or fingertips, or a flammmable object at a reasonable distance - Riley enjoys being able to light candles without having to get up. She can put out a fire if she wills it, and adds in a little of her own fire as well. Her brand of flame is very difficult to put out too. Riley likes to joke that pouring milk over it helps, though the actual trick is to deprive it of oxygen. On a large-scale however that would prove problematic. She can also increase the temperature of her skin to an alarming pitch, so as to scald and give first-degree burns to anyone who tries to grab her. But she can’t sustain too high a temperature for too long; Riley has enzymes too that she doesn’t want denaturing. Weakness: Mention harm to Naomi, and if she thinks you can make good on that promise, she will suppress herself. (If not, it will only enrage her) Drenching her with water would work well to stop her from committing more arson too, I guess. Secret Hideout: Old, and rustic, the tree-house stands in the tree-tops, desolate and away from traffic. It used to be an old haunt for vagabonds and the way-less, and it's just right for Riley if she wants to be alone to think, or if she wants to kip a night. Relationships: None so far with rogues or heroes, but she loves her sister Naomi dearly. She knows a few rogues who carved some names for themselves but ever since being locked away she hasn't heard from them. She has contacts, but they're all far away in her hometown, and distant from the years apart.

Chapitre 2 : La reconstruction amicale BrigeportEast Docs (Yakuza) 19h30 : Entrepôt de M. Sinister Après avoir échappé à la prison, les voyous se sont assis dans le sous-marin pendant environ une heure, la tension était épaisse et l'espace était exigu. Le seul à avoir l'air à l'aise était Jenkins. Bientôt, il a annoncé qu'ils étaient là et a déménagé pour ouvrir l'écoutille. Dehors, si vous connaissez la ville, vous reconnaîtrez l'odeur du tabac et de l'alcool. L'atmosphère sombre et les petites lumières de la rue. Les grands conteneurs d'expédition et le bruit de la ferraille au fur et à mesure qu'ils étaient levés et déplacés par une grue. Tous les différents marquages et signes japonais, montrant comment les Yakuza marquent leur territoire. C'était Brigeport, plus précisément les plus anciens East Docks. Bridgeport était contrôlé par la famille Shinoda des Yakuza. Jenkins a conduit le groupe de l'autre côté de la rue des Docks à un entrepôt. Il entre un code dans un pad et l'ascenseur s'ouvre révélant un espace normal avec un petit escalier à droite et des rangées d'étagères tenant des caisses et des caisses en bois. Il y avait des tours suspendus au-dessus et un air plein de poussière. On aurait dit qu'il n'avait pas été utilisé depuis un moment. Une fois à l'intérieur de l'ouverture fermée et Jenkins tourné pour s'adresser au groupe. __________________________________________________ Jenkins regarda le groupe avec dégoût, se demandant pourquoi il était même ici. Après la pensée et le roulement des yeux, il a commencé à parler. "Bonjour et bienvenue. Si vous ne le saviez pas encore, je m'appelle Jenkins, et j'ai été votre baby-sitter pendant une heure. Il l'a dit amèrement. "Maintenant vous êtes dans l'un des nombreux biens appartenant à M. Sinister. Vous devriez être reconnaissants qu'il vous ait tous choisis, si j'étais lui vous seriez tous au fond de l'océan mais hélas je ne suis pas si ici que nous sommes » Il a dit avec mépris alors qu'il a formé ses yeux rouges vifs sur le groupe. "Eh bien, laissez-nous faire les choses. Vous avez probablement beaucoup de questions, mais malheureusement je ne suis pas là pour y répondre. Je suis là pour t'installer et ensuite je peux retourner à mon vrai travail. Être majordome. Maintenant, la porte vers votre gauche mène à une salle de salon. Il a une télévision, un mini-bar, entièrement en stock que je pourrais ajouter, et de la nourriture. Derrière moi, il y a une couchette pour chacun d'entre vous avec votre nom dessus. Il a dit qu'il faisait un geste à la porte et au rang derrière lui. "Maintenant, je devine aussi que vous aimeriez en savoir plus sur M. Sinister. Eh bien, je ne vais vous dire que quelques choses qui sont importantes pour l'instant. C'est une voie techno, et pour ceux d'entre vous qui ont de faibles QI, cela signifie qu'il peut contrôler la technologie avec son esprit. C'était le voyou qui a coulé Cell Block S. Vous connaissez le célèbre que le premier homme à se libérer de ICF, je le sais parce que j'ai éclaté avec lui il y a 15 ans quand la prison a ouvert. C'est un homme dangereux et il n'est pas à jouer avec. Après s'être rasé la gorge, il a commencé à avancer. "Il y a quelques choses importantes que vous devriez savoir. Un ; à l'intérieur de vous en ce moment il y a des nanites à l'intérieur de vous, qui coulent dans vos veines, se faisant plus d'eux-mêmes de votre propre matière. Maintenant, avant que vous ne réagissez, ils sont là pour un certain nombre de raisons, mais pour dire simplement qu'ils sont censés agir comme une laisse jusqu'à ce que vous ayez payé votre dette à Mr. Pécheur." Il a dit avec un sourire sur certains de leurs visages choqués et en colère. "Quoi? Vous ne pensiez pas qu'il s'agissait d'un tour gratuit et puis vous êtes libre de continuer à courir comme des poulets avec la tête coupée, le plus susceptible de se faire attraper à nouveau. Ce n'est pas le cas. Et la plupart d'entre vous devraient savoir que rien n'est gratuit quand vous travaillez avec une classe de maître Rogue. Vous avez tous accepté son accord quand votre doigt a touché le PDA. Dis-moi que tu as ressenti quelque chose de différent après avoir appuyé sur ton pouce contre l'écran? Eh bien, un vrai voyou l'aurait fait. Quand vous avez touché cet écran, vous avez signé une sorte de contrat. Vos pouces ont libéré des nanites cachées dans les cellules de l'écran, une petite quantité, mais en raison de l'adrénaline de votre combat avec le directeur, ils se sont répandus comme un feu sauvage à travers votre corps. Pendant tout ce temps, ils ont recueilli des données sur chacun d'entre vous, trouvant vos forces, traçant vos personnalités, et faisant un travail clé; découvrir comment vous tuer. Chacun d'entre vous nous a donné assez de données, que nous avons un moyen de tuer chacun d'entre vous. C'est incroyable, n'est-ce pas? Avant que vous n'essayiez de me tuer, rappelez-vous qu'il y a assez de nanites qui coulent dans vos corps pour vous tuer sur place. Cela m'amène à expliquer les règles. Seulement trois lignes directrices simples, pendant que vous travaillez sur votre dette envers Sinister. Tout d'abord, si vous essayez de partir ou de fuir avant que le travail soit terminé, vous mourrez. Deuxièmement, si vous essayez de saboter la mission, vous mourrez d'une manière ou d'une autre, et enfin si vous essayez de vous entretuer, vous mourrez. » Il a fini par avoir trois doigts en l'air. "Maintenant ce que je vais vous dire, prenez-le comme un signe de bonne foi. Les nanites peuvent être enlevées mais elles doivent d'abord être éteintes et elles seront éteintes après que vous ayez terminé un travail pour M. Sinister. Il a besoin que vous régliez un score avec un... comment dire ça, une faction rivale, pour lui. Vous agirez comme son équipe de tueurs et une fois le travail terminé, les nanites s'éteindront et seront expulsés à travers votre corps par des moyens naturels si vous pouvez comprendre cela. Alors vous serez libérés." Jenkins a dit avec un sourire plein qui impliquait plus que cela ne voulait dire. "C'est tout ce que j'ai à dire. Joue les enfants gentils et souviens-toi de ne pas se tuer l'un l'autre. Oh et une dernière chose, les lits sont pré-affectés. Chacun d'eux contient une tablette qui contient toutes les données sur vous, y compris le "interrupteur d'arrêt". Amuse-toi bien avec ça. Des questions? C'est pas vrai. Eh bien, au revoir." En un instant, il a disparu. Pas de bang flashy, ou de sort magique, il a juste disparu en un clin d'œil. Quitter les rogues pour se murer l'un avec l'autre et attendre les ordres.

Name: Ek'ork Alias: The Founder/Eroric (those who cannot say his name call him Eroric) Age: 345 Gender: Male Species: Descender Personality: Ek'ork is a temperamental man. Most of the others of his species are all very respectful of their prince, but the human soon learn that he is quick to snap at any one. Like any prince when he ask for something he expects it no matter what, or there will be sever consequences. When coming to Earth he did not like their customs and traditions at all and had a problem adjusting. His mind is not one so easily conquered. It is vast, unlike humanity who can only use 5-16% of their brain capacity, his people can use up to 60% and it makes them different. They are numb to most human emotions and he does not quiet understand right and wrong just yet. History: Ek'ork lived as a prince on his home world, it was a dying planet and his people knew that, they understood that it was a dog eat dog world and the royalty had the biggest say in anything. Due to his fathers falling health it was getting close to the crowning ceremony, where the prince eats the father while he dies. In his society the minds of the people are connected by a mind link. Being an all male society, the more dominant males have royal blood in their veins and have better control over the others, acting as the queen bee of the planets hive. While the weaker males have little to know royal blood and are the worker bees. Ek'ork was next in line to take over the crown , which is know as the nexus. The Nexus is the hub for the mental links, which is why the kings get older and older as the years go on. So the previous king will find another 'proper' male and they would grow an egg using both of their genes. This is how Ek'ork came to be, his father (mother) was a warrior and fought in the many different wars waged by his people, while his other father (father/the king) has been ruling for 1000 years. He has just reached maturity and was now fit for the crown and just as he finished eating his father alive and accepting the Nexus, his world puffed out its last breath. Everything was falling apart and now as king Ek'ork had made the decision to leave, grabbing his only reaming father and trusted advisers, he left the little red world and watched it explode. HE could feel the instant deaths of millions of his people and it was a pain he will never forget. They found Earth by accident and thought it was a world easily inhabited. So they landed in secret and soon began to watch the humans before striking. There were only about 250 of his people left and after 5 years of observation they strike. What he did not know was that they had been found out and the humans were ready for him. 3 years of long war later and his population had been dropped down to 65. He called for peace and bought it with advanced technology and money. After the war he bought he and his people their 'humanity' and American Citizenship he took up home in Lochwell. He was, is, and will be an impatient man so he did not really get human customs and traditions until he ate one. This is how his people relay information form other people. They did not even speak English or any other Earth language until he ate his first human. WGUF-What Got You Famous: After the war and a few years of living in Lochwell, Ek'ork was called in by the president for a 'check-up' and followed suit. He went ot the white house and met the previous president, an arrogant man who did very many disrespectful looking things to Ek'ork's POV. Growing enraged by the minute Ek'ork finally snapped and ate the man. The first human he every ate was the president of the united states and he did it in a savage manner. Blood and leftover body parts could be seen throughout the Oval Office. He was apprehended on the spot and sent to ICF for permanent incarceration. His people were not reprimanded though and still run his gang on the outside. Equipment: He has a war suit that he wears during combat. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents:His people are naturally strong in nature, being able to life ten times their weight like ants, they also have their own martial arts system. He was trained by a warrior and bred for combat. His strikes are hard and he can kill anything in 10 different ways or more. He is a hunter and has instincts like one. Due to him having the Nexus his brain usage jumps to 75%. This gives him prime control over his own body. He can control two different things, his density. Making himself as light as a feather, giving him flight, or as heavy and hard as a star, giving him an added punch. Ek'ork can phase through objects as well bye reducing his density to allow him to go through solid objects, or vice versa. Weakness: Ek'ork is a King of his people, this mean a lot. The Nexus is a heavy burden and even though he will not die for many thousands of years (due to low population) Using the Nexus is a great burden and a last resort. After it gets used he needs time to recover from fatigue, duration depending on how long he has been using. He is not bullet proof by any means, only when he is using the Nexus, but during normal combat he can be shot and cut and broken like anyone else. Also his massive structure is a problem in many cases, small confined spaces are not his forte and he sends people do that for him. Secret Hideout: The Mothership of his people is hidden some where in the Pacific ocean, but their base of operations and only access point is in a bar owned by him. Relationships:

Semyaza n'avait pas été en mesure de monter à l'intérieur du sous-marin. Eh bien, il serait peut-être préférable de dire qu'il aurait pu être capable si ce n'était pas pour son insistance à apporter le don. C'était un simple signe de gratitude Grigori, présentant votre bienfaiteur à la tête d'un puissant ennemi, et il n'était absolument pas disposé à s'en séparer. Il s'était donc penché contre la tour, tenu, et avait insisté sur le fait que ce serait bien. C'est pourquoi il a été le premier à voir l'horizon de la ville quand ils ont fait surface. Après l'homme à ce qu'il espérait être une rencontre avec son maître afin qu'il puisse obtenir ce geste symbolique hors du chemin et passer à des choses importantes, ne jamais avoir à revoir aucun de ces gens. La tête du directeur Craftchenco était un peu trop grosse pour passer par la porte, alors il l'a mis dehors et a suivi l'homme dedans. Quelques minutes plus tard, il retourna à la porte en criant, avant de prendre la tête, lui donnant trois bons tours, et le jetant de l'autre côté de la rue, au-dessus des quais, et retour dans la mer avec une énorme éclaboussure. "FILTHY DISGUSTING HUMAN!" Il cria au ciel. "Gloussez tout de suite! Gloat tant que vous le pouvez, car je n'oublierai jamais cette ruse! Quand mon espèce aura soumis cette planète sans valeur, vous n'aurez nulle part où courir! Je vous chasserai jusqu'à la fin de mes jours, abandonnant ma vie même si nécessaire, pour vous assurer que vous êtes traînés devant ma reine resplendissante enchaînée! Vous serez comme un chien de terre, soumis à toutes les tortures et l'indignité que nous sommes capables d'envisager. Puis, quand vous serez brisé au-delà de la réparation et rendu dans l'animal simpering que vous êtes vraiment, vous serez maintenu en vie pour toujours et montré comme un monument aux humanités déplacé l'importance de soi! C'est comme un GRIGORI GENERAL!!!!" Puis, toujours en train de voir, et de retourner dans l'entrepôt. Sans tenir compte de tout ce qu'il a offert, il a choisi un coin, s'est assis à l'écart, et a fermé tous ses yeux.

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

Rose a donné un peu de soupir, mais honnêtement elle ne s'en souciait pas tant, bien que le fait de pouvoir la tuer l'a rendue incontrôlable. Très probablement les nanites créeraient une sorte de vendu dans son corps et il la détruirait, qui ou chacun d'eux éclaterait en flammes. Le truc des flammes serait une solution beaucoup plus probable pour la tuer. Bien qu'en vérité elle ait compris l'idée d'un œil pour un œil. Elle a souvent fait en sorte que les gens remboursent aussi leur service, normalement en lui faisant cuire quelqu'un ou en lui amenant quelqu'un à manger. En raison de son immortel bien que le temps n'était pas un problème, tant que les nanites n'étaient pas permanents, elle allait bien avec elle. Après un rapide regard sur la tablette, elle est sortie de la pièce pour trouver Semyaza assis dans un coin. Elle sourit et se mit à marcher vers lui, elle donnait un sentiment inconfortable alors qu'elle s'approchait de lui. Elle aimait absolument les hommes qui pensaient qu'ils étaient en contrôle total, c'était encore plus amusant de 'jouer' avec eux. "Vous êtes un homme intéressant. Dis-moi, si tu aimes tant ta reine, pourquoi n'a-t-elle pas remboursé cet amour? C'est peut-être qu'elle pense que tu n'as pas de valeur. Je veux dire qu'elle n'est jamais venue pour essayer de te sortir de là." Rose a dit de se rapprocher de lui. Les grands doutaient d'eux-mêmes, c'était quelque chose qu'elle aimait faire.

Name: Rose Grinda Alias: Bloody Rose Age: Looks 16 is actually around the age 500 years old Gender: Female Species: Witch Personality: Rose is a very quiet girl for the most part. However when provoked she will start to scream like a banshee and act erratically sometimes walking on the ceilings even. One her favorite ways to lure in pray is start crying to attract attention to herself, then once her victim comes in close enough she executes whatever plan she may have for that person, be it eating them, or making them see their worse night mare. Rose has no actual goal other than to cause misery to everyone she deems a deserving of facing misery. History: Rose was born in the town of Salem just before the witch trials began. She had a loving family however her mother was later accused of witch craft and burned at the stake. After witnessing this Rose ran into the forest soon getting herself lost. She eventually found a cave that was blocked off with many warning signs. She went into the cave despite the warning signs seeing it as shelter. As she went deeper into the cave she noticed many different glowing crystals. All of them were glowing red, and seemed to glow brighter when she got closer to them. As Rose went to sleep that night she started to hear voices, many of them offering kind words to her. The voices even taught Rose various things, one of them was what they called “The oath of Joy.” Which was actually a ritual where one paints a symbol onto their hands and stomach then recites a few lines before being possessed in exchange for immense power. After being possessed Rose returned to Salem now a full blown witch of immense power. She killed those who had wronged her mother, she killed each of them in dark places however that weren’t in the public eye. Some were killed at brothels, others killed in taverns. Once Rose finished her business in Salem she left the town that was now in utter chaos accusing each other of being witches. Rose continued to live as an urban legend in various places for the next 500 years, showing misery to others who came in her path, and killing and eating those she deemed a threat. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Rose was made famous through the urban legends of her luring in and terrorizing victims who then spent the rest of their lives in mental institutes. She really became famous however when there was a horror movie made about her that was extremely popular, it was called “The Bloody Rose.” Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Rose can be torn apart but she will always live through it, however she can be killed through burning her however keeping her still for that is the hard part. Rose also has various magical abilities, one of them being that she can change her body into that of a Creature with a giant mouth that can eat a person in two bites. Rose can make various objects in a room float as long as they are the size of a small lamp. Another power of Rose is illusions as well as levitation. Weakness: Fire is her most well-known weakness however she has another weakness of being trapped by circles of salt, or just salt in general. Salt prevents her from using her abilities as well. Relationships:

Deux yeux ouverts. Juste deux, sur sa tête. Ils ont ouvert, et ils se sont rétrécis. "Queen Grigoria est tombée dans la bataille avec nos ennemis shorty après que je l'ai fait. Pris de son bouclier a été forcé de rencontrer nos ennemis elle-même, et est même maintenant emprisonné quelque part sur ce rocher misérable. J'avais l'intention de la chercher dès que j'ai respecté M. Sinister pour l'occasion. Même maintenant, la pensée d'elle emprisonnée était la seule chose qui m'empêchait de détruire ce majordome pendant qu'il parlait. Je ne peux pas mourir tant qu'elle n'est pas libre." Il serait exact de dire que Semyaza ne possède pas la capacité de loyauté. En tant qu'être artificiel, il ressemblait beaucoup à une fourmi. Une fourmi n'a aucun concept d'une chose aussi complexe que la loyauté. Une fourmi fonctionne sur quelque chose de plus simple. Quelque chose de primaire. Sur l'une des émotions les plus anciennes de la planète. Rose avait tout à fait raison dans son évaluation. Une fourmi, comme Semyaza, comme tout Grigori, pourrait être entraînée par l'amour. Un amour inconditionnel, si grand qu'il est inimaginable. Un amour qui s'est écrasé comme une mac. C'est ainsi qu'il était bien moins que l'humanité. -- Je ne crois pas, dit-il lentement, il est possible que vous compreniez.

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

Le tour sous-marin a été heureusement inégalé, aucun des hommes n'ayant fait un acte ridicule et personne ne l'a ennuyée pour son histoire de vie. Mais Nihil savait que ça ne pouvait durer que si longtemps. Comme ils sont sortis du navire Nihil avait peu d'opinion sur leur nouvelle base. C'était assez utile. Ce qui n'était pas utile, c'était son arsenal. Elle se lassait rapidement d'utiliser ses mains et de porter la combinaison orange de la prison. Comme ils ont déposé dans l'entrepôt, le majordome Jenkins a parlé, avec un air indu de supériorité. Nihil se sentait à peine comme un majordome avait le droit de se présumer mieux qu'elle, mais elle écoutait encore. L'expression de Nihil est déjà aigre. Elle avait senti une perturbation dans son corps, les nanites se révélant être un ajout indésirable à sa biologie. Comme c'est gênant. Comme le majordome a cessé de parler Nihil traqué loin, ignorant l'explosion de l'étrange créature volante. Elle était prête pour un jour où elle ne serait pas armée, bien sûr. Nihil avait bientôt disparu et réapparu rapidement, tenant dans chaque main une paire de grosses caisses de drabes d'olive. Un bon soldat était prêt pour toute situation, et Nihil avait des étouffées de provisions cachées en toute sécurité dans toute la ville, une chance tombant dans la petite zone de Bridgeport, ils ont été autorisés à errer sans que les nanites déclenchent. Elle retourne dans l'entrepôt et pose les boîtes sur sa couchette, mais prend d'abord la tablette fournie par Monsieur Sinister. Elle a jeté un coup d'œil sur les dossiers de ses alliés, en mémorisant l'information - pas notre intérêt personnel, bien sûr, mais parce que l'information peut s'avérer utile. Elle s'est ensuite renseignée sur l'information pour trouver son 'interrupteur de tuer'. Il semblait que les nanites à l'intérieur d'elle créeraient un'shine' haut-piqué à l'intérieur de son tympan, qui sans aucun doute exploserait rapidement les deux. Si la perte de sang ne la tuait pas, ils attaqueraient alors sa cavité nasale, libérant la capsaïcine concentrée à l'intérieur d'eux, quelque chose qui se révélerait déjà incroyablement déplaisant contre une personne normale. Pour elle, ce serait probablement incroyablement plus déplaisant, et fatal. Cela prouve que Monsieur Sinister en savait autant qu'il le prétendait - au moins il connaissait ses capacités, très peu d'informations étaient disponibles. Pour l'instant, Nihil a ouvert l'affaire, confirmant que son contenu était encore contenu en toute sécurité à l'intérieur et ne s'est pas échappé par un peu de ragamuffine cherchant à se armer. Heureusement pour elle, tout était encore en sécurité, une petite armure qu'elle avait préparée. Elle a commencé à déballer, en tirant d'abord les vêtements qu'elle contenait: d'abord était un plateau de culture de drabes d'olive, exposant son ventre. Il était certainement sexy, mais ce n'était pas le point, elle se souciait plus de l'utilité de celui-ci, vêtements plus légers permettant une plus grande gamme de mouvement libre. Elle a ensuite tiré une paire aussi trompeuse de shorts très courts. Bien que l'objectif principal de l'habillement était de lui permettre de se déplacer là-bas, bien sûr, un effet psychologique supplémentaire important qui ne pouvait pas être écarté. C'est-à-dire que les ennemis masculins ont tendance à se distraire facilement. Elle a dit les vêtements à part pour l'instant, prêt à examiner son arsenal. D'abord, une paire de pistolets AMT Hardballer avec un étui d'épaule, une unité avec deux étuis de dessin croisé de chaque côté. Elle les a également mis de côté, plongeant plus loin dans les limites de la première boîte, tirant d'elle un M4A1 avec une portée ACOG et une élingue d'accompagnement. Enfin, elle a abordé le cas suivant, qui contenait une arme toute importante : A Barrett M107. Son arsenal était, bien sûr, incomplet sans fusil de sniper. Avec son "cargo" maintenant sécurisé, elle a remis les armes et les étuis dans l'affaire, le rangant sous le lit. Les vêtements étaient toujours là, alors qu'elle était fatigante de la combinaison de prison. Elle s'est dérobée au milieu de la chambre, sans tenir compte de quiconque peut entrer. Elle s'en souciait peu, pourquoi un soldat aurait-il élevé dans l'isolement?

Emma Summers | Nihil Age: 29 Gender: Female Species: Human History: In the year 1986 a new kind of weapon was bred in the wind-swept desert of Afghanistan. The pressure of the Cold War has been on a steady rise, and it soon exploded in conflict. The Russian invasion of Afghanistan created a new warzone for the US to fight a proxy war against communism. Naturally they sided against Russia, supporting the Afghani Mujahideen. This war served as the backdrop of a highly illegal and highly unethical experiment conducted in the dark depths of the US Military-Industrial Complex by a secret group of researchers, unknown to all but a very select number of US Government officials. The question was simple: How does one create the perfect soldier? The first solution was technological: A serum that greatly increased the physical capabilities of a solider, additionally bestowing them with a number of 'super powers' that would aid them in their job. The second was much darker. In science there is an experiment that is considered taboo. Dubbed "The Forbidden Experiment". What would happen to someone if they were deprived of exposure to language of any sort? The researchers designed an evocative experiment: A child deprived of human contact. Taught by machines. Gradually exposed to the world through video and picture. Kept in peak physical condition. Raised by technology to be a soldier that had no regard for human life or their own life, instilled with unflinching obedience. Combined with their newly invented 'super-serum' this child was to be the ultimate soldier. The child had no name, but the researchers gave her a nickname: Nihil. A Latin word best described as meaning 'the absence of anything'. Nothingness. It was at the age of twelve that Nihil was given her first mission. The Soviet–Afghan War was already over, but the Cold War was still on and researchers were eager to see the fruits of their labor. An operation was called by the general who was privy to the details of the experiment, buried in layers of deniability. The mission was simple: Capture a Soviet outpost. It was a task for a group of highly trained soldiers. Instead a little girl was sent in. The mission, needless to say, was a success. Nihil proved to be highly capable in combat, and it seemed that all the programming and experimenting had indeed created the perfect soldier. As time went on the US's 'secret soldier' went on more missions, always proving successful against the most unlikely of odds. Every time it was the same: She'd receive her orders, be dropped into the hot zone, carry out her mission, exfiltrate, and then return to isolation, or to the training room connected to her cell, but she still always never saw a single person. The only times she had human contact was through the scope of a rifle. The only voices she heard where the screams of her targets. But something had to give, the shroud of isolation couldn't be kept forever. There was one variable that the researcher's couldn't control: Themselves. They weren't bad people... or maybe they were, but they felt remorse. Some of them were unable to handle the kind of research they were doing. Some were entirely uncaring, seeing Nihil as nothing more than a subject. But almost all of them were quelled by their paycheck. Almost. One of them faced the ultimate struggle: Love. One of the researchers who spent countless hours observing Nihil came to feel a strange paternal affection for the girl who he had twisted into a soldier. It happened slowly, but it happened nonetheless. One day Nihil was sitting in her cell, as she always had, when something unexpected came through the slit in the door that had always delivered only food: A flower, and a note. The clean, white, sterile, surgical cell, devoid of anything but the basic necessities of life and a computer screen through which she had been educated had suddenly been invaded by a small speck of color. The facility rose in a panic. Their carefully controlled experiment had suddenly been thrown askew. The never anticipated one of their own going so far in mutiny. Nihil picked up the note, felt the paper. The words which she had only ever seen etched into a computer screen. Researchers scrambled. She couldn't read it, they couldn't let her. It would likely destroy their work. As the mutinous researcher had been carried away, the door to Nihil's cell opened and for the first time she had seen a face on the other side of it. A stern face, a human face, reaching for the note. Suddenly her world had been thrown into question. Thoughts that never came to her, question that she had never come to ask. Who was she? Who were they? What are they? Who are the people she killed? Why did she exist? Something snapped inside her. She understood that they did something wrong to her, the note made it clear. The girl easily overpowered the researcher, slamming his face against the wall and leaving a bloody smear. Their experiment was over. How could it succeed? No one can stem the very basis of human nature. They had reached too far. The girl they bred for war, of course, had no problem escaping from their confines after that. What was once a sterile research lab was sullied by blood. No one in the research staff, not one of the guards, nor one of the numerous other unholy experiments, not one of the janitors, or the maintenance workers, or the soldiers lived. They had created a monster. An unfeeling monster that wanted nothing more than to feel. As she emerged from the depths of the facility she emerged into a unknown environment. She had only ever known desert and mountains and the lab. This place was different. The mountains reached taller, scraping against the sky above. The ground was not sand, but concrete. Around her stood none of the 'Soviets' she had been taught were the enemy. Instead she was surrounded by people. Unfamiliar people. Numerous people, countless people. They stared at her: A teenage girl soaked in blood, carrying a rifle, clothing tattered. One of them called the police. Nihil was already gone, running away into a world she knew very little about. Soon after that she found herself taken back into the fold of the US Military. Escaping wouldn't be that easy. It had been something they had prepared for. They could track her, of course. But things were different as she returned. She came to learn the name of the general in charge of the experiment: Brook. General Dalton Brook. He, like many of the researchers, came to see that the experiment was a mistake, so he extended an offer to reintegrate her into society with support from to government. The price was simple: Nihil's secrecy. No one would know where she came from. She wanted to know what life was like outside of confinement. She agreed. She was soon re-educated, placed into an apartment, taught how to live like a 'normal' person. They gave her money. They gave her freedom. They gave her a name, Emma. They even let her join the VA. She was technically still a veteran, after all. But it wasn't enough for her. How could it be? She soon came to recognize what they took from her. What she could never get back. She was still a warrior, no matter what they did. She still couldn't feel like any other person. She still couldn't know what it was like to really be normal. So she disappeared, again. This time she made sure they couldn't follow. She used her powers to escape, again, and never looked back. She also promised herself one thing: She would exact revenge upon General Dalton Brook. After that she slipped into the criminal underworld. By day she kept on her mask: The mask of a normal person, pretending to feel the emotions she could never feel. By night she was a rouge. Her powers made her a natural fit. She still only knew how to be a soldier. Assassination was her trade. She still felt nothing when she took a life. She felt no remorse. She wanted to hurt the people who hurt her and the people who didn't hurt her. She wouldn't be satisfied until everyone bled. But one thing still kept her sane. One thing kept her from being a psychopath: The memory of the flower and the note she had received from the one person who had loved her. The note she still kept with her. The note no one else would ever see. Part of her wanted to hurt, but part of her wanted to feel. Part of her wanted to discover the emotions she never knew. As the years went on she felt her life become meaningless. She only lived to live. The feeling still wasn't there. She came to realize he joy that she once thought she felt when she killed was false, engineered by the researchers. She still wanted to kill Dalton Brook, but it seemed unattainable. He was half a world away. She felt trapped. And then one day during her 'late night activities' she was caught by a hero. Captain Power. She could've escaped. It would've been easy with her powers. But she gave up. She let herself get caught. He was confused, but took her in. And that was it. She was sent to prison, buried behind layers of security designed to prevent her escape. She couldn't be stopped. Ironically her powers made escape quite easy for her. But she didn't care. It was just like old times. "I can leave whenever I want." Personality: Nihil is devoid of emotion. She strives for it, but it's always out of reach. She's only felt emotion twice: Hatred for the people who authorized the experiments conducted on her, and a small moment of happiness hen she read a letter penned by the only person who has loved her. She is almost entirely apathetic towards existence, only driven by her goal to kill General Dalton Brook. She has no friends, has never tried to make any friends, and is seemingly unable to make friends. How can someone with no emotion have friends? She's entirely confident in her abilities, convinced that nothing can stop her, no matter how incorrect that might be. She rarely speaks, and isn't very easy to work with, instead preferring to operate solo. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Nihil's principal talent is mastery with almost all forms of weaponry. She is a highly skilled marksman, able to use a sniper rifle to make shots that no normal human can make. She has a supreme reaction time and can slow her breathing to the point where it is almost impossible to discern if she is actually alive. Her senses are also highly heightened, furthering her skill as a marksman. Her skill with guns is so great that she can shoot the individual blades of a helicopter while they are in motion. She has been trained in the art of 'gun-kata', a form of martial arts that integrates hand to hand techniques with gunplay and the statistical study of a gunfight, allowing her to very accurately predict and then react to the patterns that her enemies will use, making her a very deadly foe against groups of enemies. She is of course, by extension, highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. The serum given to her also has imbued her with more 'super-human' abilities. She is more durable than an average person, able to survive a number of gunshots or a long fall, has strength comparable to a man twice her size. One of her principal abilities is they power to move at speeds that are almost imperceptible, appearing as little more than a blur. Additionally she can jump much higher than the average human, around the height of 20 feet. This allows her supreme mobility, letting dart quickly across the battlefield in a blink of an eye. Weakness: Nihil's first weakness is her highly heightened senses. Although this at first seems to strictly be an advantage she is prone to sensory overload, extreme smells or loud sounds can have highly adverse effects on her. Additionally it is worth nothing that although she is more durable than the average human, unlike many super humans she is still very susceptible to gunshots or other physical damage. She might be durable, but she is very far from invulnerable. Finally the super-serum has had some adverse effects on her. She is prone to intense migraines, which in the past has not served her well in battle. The serum may have more negatory side-effects that remain unseen. Secret Hideout: Nihil has no secret hideout, only a shitty apartment, Relationships: The only feeling Nihil has for any person is the hate she feels for the General.

Karate Bastard a passé la course sous-marine en silence pierreux. C'était en partie pour récupérer plus rapidement de la souche de l'utilisation de Palm de Bouddha - tout simplement en utilisant la technique avait tué les hommes plus petits. Beaucoup, beaucoup moins d'hommes. Mais surtout, il faisait le bilan de ses nouveaux alliés. Si le travail d'équipe devait être forcé sur lui, il valait mieux savoir qui était capable de quoi. Et il semblait que le travail d'équipe lui était en effet imposé par ce mystérieux M. Sinister, qui qu'il fût. Contrairement à certains des autres, KB n'a rien fait de plus que de lever un sourcil à la mention des nanites- qui, il s'est avéré, étaient sur le point de libérer suffisamment de curare et de cyanure pour tuer vingt personnes normales dans le sang de KB si Keith essayait n'importe quoi. Assez pour le tuer deux fois. Curieusement, il n'a pas été insulté du moins par le besoin de M. Sinister de lui mettre une laisse. Au lieu de cela, KB l'a pris comme une marque de respect. Un geste entre égaux. M. Sinister était clairement assez conscient de la capacité de KB à ressentir la nécessité de prendre des précautions extrêmes. Le vieux voyou savait exactement à quel point Keith pouvait être dangereux. Tant mieux. Il n'y aurait pas de malentendus. Quand Jenkins a fini leur briefing, Keith a trouvé sa couchette marquée. Il secoua la tête sur les draps blanchis et l'oreiller doux, avant de les déchirer entièrement du lit et de les laisser dans un tas sur le sol. KB dormait sur le matelas nu. Un homme ne devrait pas avoir trop de réconfort. Ça le rend doux. C'est comme ça que les hommes sont devenus des sooks, comme cette petite fille qui gémit. Il ne pouvait pas croire qu'Ellie faible était venue avec eux, demandant à d'autres personnes de se battre pour elle. Pathétique. Cette créature bizarre, cependant, le général. Celui qui avait jeté le tantrum. C'était une créature que Karate Bastard pouvait respecter. Le grand pâle semblait aussi bien. Peut-être que travailler avec ces gens ne serait pas si mal. Il a passé quelques minutes à maudire alors qu'il a essayé et a échoué à travailler la tablette, avant d'abandonner et de jeter la chose sans souci sur le lit. Toujours à poil, KB s'est rendu au salon à la recherche de nourriture et de boissons. Il n'a pas été déçu sur ce front. Un bar complet et une table l'ont accueilli. Après des mois de nourriture en prison, les deux avaient l'air somptueux. Bien que Keith se méfie généralement du luxe, il estime que les repas sont un bon moment pour se livrer. La bonne nourriture faisait partie d'un corps fort, et le bon vin faisait partie d'une âme heureuse. Souriant sincèrement, KB a empilé une assiette avec des offres riches en calories et en protéines, puis s'est ambré jusqu'à la barre et a regardé à travers la verrerie. Il contempla brièvement un petit verre avant de le jeter à l'aide d'une éternue. Au lieu de cela, il a pris un grand gobelet d'eau et l'a rempli au bord de Lagavulin. KB avait pris goût à Scotch lors de sa tournée tourbillonnante en Écosse. Il avait laissé savoir comment se battre avec Claymore, Lochaber hache, et dirk, sans parler d'une arnaque des techniques traditionnelles de lutte. Et bien sûr, il avait laissé derrière lui douze artistes martiaux morts. Il sourit à la mémoire. C'est le bon temps. Avec des rafales, il a commencé à louper la nourriture, en arrêtant seulement pour arracher les bouches de whisky cher. Keith Blackwell jouissait de sa nouvelle liberté.

Name: Keith Blackwell Alias: Karate Bastard Age: 36 Gender: Male Species: Human Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him. History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program. But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha. The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated. Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate. From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave. Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated. In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly. Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him. Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country. Relationships: None.

Nataliya se contentait de les laisser combattre le robot. Elle n'a pu s'empêcher de s'arrêter quand l'extraterrestre a pris la tête du directeur. "Qu'est-ce que tu vas faire? Accrochez-vous à votre mur?" Elle a reniflé alors qu'elle montait dans le sous-marin. Elle se pencha contre le mur, prenant le reste des gens avec qui elle était. Elle était silencieuse pour le tour sous-marin, ainsi que le majordome expliquant. "Un cul inconsidéré." Elle a dit de retourner dans le salon où se trouvait le mini-bar. Elle a pris la bouteille de Stoli avant de rejoindre le groupe. "Mais je veux dire, à quoi nous attendions-nous vraiment? Je croyais que tu étais bien plus que nous? Pourtant, vous avez été trompés aussi facilement que n'importe quel autre humain." Nataliya a demandé à l'extraterrestre qui criait. Elle a sauté le couvercle et a pris une longue gorgée, savourant comment le liquide a brûlé sa gorge. Elle l'a écouté parler et ça l'a jetée un moment. Elle n'avait connu qu'une seule personne capable de tromperie. Son mari l'a expérimentée, son frère ne l'a pas sortie de prison. Ses parents l'ont élevée comme princesse pour un pays qui détestait l'aristocratie. C'était très décourageant. "Peut-être avez-vous raison. N'est-ce pas... l'homme? Eh, ne blâmez pas l'homme pour sa moralité, car nous en avons si peu. » Nataliya a dit, avant de prendre une autre gorgée. Elle n'a pas pris la tablette, elle n'a pas voulu connaître ses limites parce que ce serait reconnaître qu'elle n'était pas humaine. Elle n'a utilisé ses capacités que dans des moments de grande contrainte. Même comment elle a tué était mortel, la seule raison pour laquelle elle a fini dans cette prison damnée était à cause de ses capacités, sur plusieurs comptes. Elle a fini la bouteille avant de la poser sur le sol. Elle a regardé que l'une des filles a changé, débattu étant l'une de ces personnes, a fait un sifflement rapide de loup avant d'aller trouver plus de vodka. Pas plus Stoli malheureusement mais il y avait quelques bouteilles de Smirnoff qui était presque aussi bonne. Elle les a attrapés et elle est revenue une fois de plus, juste parce qu'il n'y avait pas de meilleur spectacle qu'un groupe de psychopathes maléfiques tous ensemble dans une pièce.

Name: Nataliya Naryshkina Alias: Kotek Age: 26 Gender: Female Species: Enhanced human Personality: Nataliya Naryshkina is manipulative, and adjusts herself to her chosen victim. However if she is in between victims she can be anywhere between a range of sweet and coy, or sarcastic and biting. Depends on how much she likes you. She likes to have a good time, though. She also is obsessed with watching people go insane before they die. She plays games, but she also has the occasional urge just to watch blood spill from their body. History: Nataliya Naryshkina was born into former Russian royalty and acted the part. Her brother, who is a current high ranking politician in Russian politics, raised her after her mother died at her birth and her father disappeared. She was raised with a silver spoon in her mouth and she acted like it. At least until she met Henry. Henry was an American scientist, going to a convention in Moscow who literally ran into her as she was making her way towards the hotel to meet her brother for lunch. It wasn't until the next day when they were introduced, since Sergei, Natia's brother, had ties to the company. He was unintentionally charming and Natia couldn't help but fall in love. She married Henry after dating for two years, when she was 21 years old. She moved to America with him, and got a job within one of her family's companies. It seems like they never left the honeymoon stage and were contemplating having kids. Until she saw him slipping something into her nightly tea. He claims it was just honey but she dug in a little more. Made some calls, did some digging. It turns out he was developing a prototype that, like a steroid, would make her stronger however it also improved her senses, her metabolism, and made her faster. These changes we also permanent as it was DNA altering. This would have been fine if the drug didn't have the unfortunate side effect of removing her inhibitions and erasing her moral compass. She wasn't angry but she wasn't going to let him get away with this so she started to poison her husband. It was slow, over several months, but it would slowly denigrate his mind, making him go insane. Eventually he killed himself, and she inherited his fortune, as well as her own. She had her brother set her up so she could quit her job but so she would be wealthy for the rest of her life, both legally and in various offshore accounts. If she the drug didn't have the lasting affect it did, this would be the end of Natia's story. However, her psychopathic tendencies stayed with her and over the next year and a half she killed thirty people. Men or woman, she didn't discriminate or have a type. The only mistake they made was that they decided to sleep with her. She would administer a poison, using a small injection usually(like how you administer Ricin) so they don't feel it and it would cause their brain to slowly shut down before they became vegetative. Then the fun would begin. Natia liked to see how much blood would pour out until the heart stopped and the blood didn't move. She got up to 2 pints before she was caught. Her capture was simply bad luck, she managed to seduce a superhero with a tolerance for most drugs. She didn't really mind though, she figured every villain has to spend at least a months in jail. She'd get out soon enough anyways. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Better senses, better metabolism, stronger, faster Weakness: She's only human, a taser will put her down or a bullet or anything sharp and pointy. She's also obsessive, if she has a target or a goal, she won't quit until she does it and it's gotten her in a trouble a few times because of that. It's mostly a hideout, since it's not in her name but rather her brother's who's a Russian politician with lots of lawyers and a lot of ability to keep the police away. However she will occasionally allow others to meet in someone of the more secret rooms. For a price of course. Relationships: Her brother, a Russian politician, who will not get her out of jail because if she wanted to learn how to be successful, she needed to learn how to be discreet with her urges. The Russian mob has several families in it she's close to, or at least respect her for her family name and brother.

Lorsque la bataille s'est terminée, Baal a regardé ses alliés temporaires sans s'imprimer par leurs efforts pour faire tomber le directeur, mortels insensés, toujours en choisissant la manière brutale de combattre une bataille qu'il pensait à lui-même et a suivi les autres au sous-marin que M. Sinister avait envoyé pour eux. Une fois dans le véhicule sous-marin, Baal se tenait à lui-même et communiquait télépathiquement avec les grands prêtres de son culte. Ils étaient heureux d'avoir enfin pris contact avec lui et de s'enquérir de ce qui s'était passé. Baal vient de leur dire qu'il les informerait plus tard de son emprisonnement et mettrait fin à sa communication. Après un certain temps, le sous-marin s'est arrêté et Baal lui-même à Brigeport et a suivi le majordome dans un entrepôt. Il se demandait pourquoi il n'avait pas simplement disparu et laissé le groupe derrière lui, mais il était maintenant curieux de savoir qui était leur sauveur et s'il n'était rien de plus qu'un ver mortel. Une fois dans l'entrepôt, le majordome s'est présenté comme Jenkins et a expliqué comment ils étaient dans l'un des nombreux endroits appartenant au mystérieux méchant. Puis le majordome a expliqué les nanites dans leur corps qui pourraient tuer à tout moment avis. Baal n'a pas été très impressionné par la dépendance de ce fou à l'égard de la technologie et a posé une question au majordome. "Répondez-moi, comment vous ou votre maître savez-vous que ma magie ne peut pas aspirer le pouvoir de ces petites machines? Je pourrais vous rendre fous avant de les faire tuer" il a parlé au majordome alors que ses yeux sous son capot brillaient d'un mauvais rouge. Baal cherchait une faiblesse dans cet homme et la détermination de son maître, il essayait de faire tout ce qu'il pouvait pour manipuler leur sauveur et le faire pousser à ses pieds.

Name: Baal Alias: Lord Baal Age: is actual age is unknown, but he has been around for over 4000 years. Gender: male Species: unknown, appears to be humanoid Personality: Baal is the definition of evil to many, his insidious nature and pleasure in using his powers to bring insanity and chaos over the vast dimensions have made him feared by most. Before he became Lord Baal, he wasn't evil and had a woman he loved dearly, but it was her murder and the death of most of his people that drove to hate those that had robbed him of so much that drove him to make his deal with the godlike demons known as the Dark Ones who were beyond human comprehension. Ever since his pact with the Dark Ones he plunged into darkness and his evil is immense. Baal is extremely cunning and will always try to find ways to manipulate others into doing what he wants. He is amazingly charismatic and persuasive, which is how he has been able to grow his cults on earth. His intelligence and ability to pray upon the human psyche makes him very formidable. Baal will show no mercy to his enemies and will delight in making them suffer as much as possible. He has forced mothers and fathers to watch their children die horribly as punishment for going against him. He has made children see their parents brutally murdered and try to turn them into cult members. Some would wonder why such an evil being could exist, Baal would answer that love was to blame. It was because he loved so much that his hatred made him into what he was now. Baal demands obediance from his followers and will regularly use terror and public killings to demonstrate his power and authority. Baal prefers to use his cult members to do tasks for him if they aren't of great importance and there is only one being he truly fears and that's God. His biggest flaws in terms of a mental weakness is his superiority complex and large ego. History: Baal was born millennia ago to a world very different from our own. It was a world of almost constant conflict and filled with brutality and savagery. His people whose name has slipped from history and memory were engaged in a massive war with the Ozarian empire. Baal grew up in the wake of this horrible conflict and saw many that were close to him die, but he still found love in a woman who called his sun and moon. Unfortunately for Baal she would be brutally murdered by Ozarian forces and made him watch before they tried to kill him. He was however saved by the Dark Ones when they heard his primeval scream of hatred at seeing his beloved killed. The demons made everything around them freeze as if time itself had stopped and then offered Baal the chance to see revenge by making a pact with them in exchange for his soul and eternal devotion. Baal agreed without a second thought thanks to the huge well of hatred inside him, and the Dark Ones give him a piece of their awesome power. Baal felt their black magic flow through him and the power was almost overwhelming. The demons then vanished and time seemed to revert back to normal. Baal immediately unleashed his new power and slaughtered all in his path. When the enemy forces were defeated, Baal saw that they had managed to kill all of his people and he was now the last of them. He soon had his vengeance and wiped out of the Ozarian empire. With his world a war torn wasteland, he sough to establish a new society, one that worshiped the Dark Ones. The demons soon returned to him and told of his quest to spread cults dedicated to them throughout all dimensions and Baal now consumed by his darkness fervently agreed to their task. After attaining the power to traverse dimensions, Baal began to spread the cults of the Dark Ones to many different worlds. Some worlds were too faithful and righteous to conquer, but he was immortal and could wait for a time when they would become weak in faith. Eventually he came this world in the distant past and was worshiped as the god Baal, gaining many much reverence. His cults spread by a large amount, but then the emergence of Christianity saw his cults become obsolete in the wake of the new religion and he dared to not challenge God seeing his great power. Baal decided that he would wait and come back to this dimension when Christianity was less powerful. He waited for thousands of years, but he has now returned. He played a role in influencing the formations of the hellfire clubs during the times of the founding fathers of America and he played a subtle role in the creation satanic cults. With the advent of the scientific age humanity has less faith in the Abrahamic religions and that has given Baal the power to start spreading his cults again. Every action has both a positive and negative reaction. Equipment: He is in possession of a number of powerful magic artifacts with dangerous properties. All of his artifacts are mystically bound to him and he can summon them to and from a sub-dimension when he needs them and they will vanish anyone else tries to use them. Fiend Staff: his demonic looking magical staff helps him focus his insane power and it has the power to transform into archaic weapons such as swords, spears and axes. Knife of Murder: He has ceremonial knife that he uses during rituals, which has the power to pierce the soul when he stabs someone with it. Ring of Gonnar: This ring that he wears in his right index finger allows him to traverse dimensions without the use of rituals. Robe of Flight: the robes he wears give him the ability to fly. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Baal controls incredibly powerful black magic taught to him by extra-dimensional demons and wields immense power that makes him appear to be like a god to his mortal followers. This magic grants him several abilities that he has mastered completely as well as a great number of spells. His knowledge in the black arts and the occult are immensely high. Immortality: he doesn't age and cannot die of old age, which is how he has been alive for thousands of years. The Black Arms of Hastor: This spell creates black demonic spectral arms that will assault his opponents both physically and spiritually. The Black Flames of Ondar: Baal shoots fire that made up of black hellish flames. Unlike ordinary fire it does more than just burn his enemies, it also burns the soul. Shield of Insidiousness: He creates a barrier of demonic spirits that can protect him from physical and spiritual attacks, the power of this barrier is determined by how much magic he puts into it. Nightmarish Illusions: This spell allows Baal to create frightening illusions to scare and distract his opponents. Demonic Force: Baal hits targets with a wave invisible force that can use to either knock things away or draw them closer to him. Fiendish Summoning: he can summon lowly demons from a hellish dimension to attack his enemies. The Eye of Madthros: By channeling a huge amount of magic Baal can assault his opponents' minds with horrifying images and terrible pain. They have to be looking into his eyes. Ritual of Corruption: This occult ritual that includes drinking Baal's blood is done to corrupt initiates in his cult and turn them to evil. It takes an hour to complete, but it's how his cult has grown so large. Mind of The Demon: This spell protects him from having his mind read or assaulted by psychic attacks. Weakness: All things holy can weaken him and silver is always a big weakness that can be exploited if used as a weapon. While his magic is incredibly powerful, it will become taxing on his body if he uses high powered spells for too long. The effects of his spells can be negated with black or white magic that is of greater strength than his power. Secret Hideout: His HQ is a dark castle that is located between dimensions. There are doors that are located throughout the world, but it requires black magic to open. It is guarded by demons and some of his high ranked cult members Relationships: His main relationship is with the Dark Ones and his cults, but he has made many enemies over the course of his reign of terror. The Angels of God: they are a group made up of divine angels and divinely powered followers of the Christian faith. They are his worst enemies and spread out across dimensions to battle his evil cults. Followers of Monotheist religions: Anyone who is believes in Christianity, Judaism and Islam are his enemies and he will try to see all three of these religions destroyed. The Dark Ones: they are extra-dimensional demons that grant Baal is power and they are the only authority that he bows to. They have plans for the multiverse, but it is secret between only them and Baal.

Riley a broyé ses dents comme Jenkins l'a dit. Sa peau rampait à la mention de nanites, courant dans ses veines et ligotant un noeud autour de son cou. Elle a essayé de trouver du réconfort dans l'idée de les enlever après la mission, mais un homme qui démêlait un couteau sur la tête de l'aller était tout aussi susceptible de mentir et de se croiser. Elle n'allait pas prendre la parole de M. Sinister pour quoi que ce soit. Le rat. Une fois que Jenkin est partie, Riley a fait son chemin jusqu'à la couchette tandis que certains se dirigeaient vers le salon. Une boisson enivrante avait l'air délicieuse, mais elle n'aimait pas l'idée d'aller en mission. Très peu professionnel, potentiellement fatal aussi. En trouvant son lit, Riley a arraché la tablette que Jenkins avait mentionnée. Le technopathe était aussi un technophile, il semblait, comme Riley regardait sur le design élégant. Un peu plus creusant a découvert une ceinture épaisse avec de petites poches cousues dans une ligne, un rang de soldats. Remonter à ses pieds Riley a rapidement rejeté son uniforme de prison, jeté sur un simple coton et tiré sur boxer-shorts. Maintenant dans une tenue résolument confortable, elle sortit de la couchette, traversant quelques-uns des autres Rogues, mais ne voyant aucun visage alors qu'elle s'inclinait la tête sur l'écran de la tablette. Laissant ses pieds marcher à travers l'entrepôt et au salon, Riley entendit des bavardages - et des cris - alors que ses yeux glissaient d'un coin à l'autre, ingérant des lignes d'information de ses nouvelles camarades. Certains sont issus de scandales, de crimes. Riley a grimpé bruyamment à travers les tiroirs avec sa main libre, en ramassant des couteaux. Elle les jeta vers le haut pour les regarder roulotter, et les prit chacun par la poignée avant de les envelopper dans la ceinture qui tournait autour de sa taille. Elle sourit à l'écran alors qu'elle sentait sa moitié inférieure devenir lourde avec ses butins. Ah, le pillage. Elle était revenue à ses racines, n'est-ce pas? Une fois que chaque gaine a été remplie d'une lame, Riley s'est penché contre le compteur, pour engager les profils restants à la mémoire. Le salon était relativement calme, avec un homme musclé se remplissant de nourriture et de boisson, et une blonde Riley reconnu comme Natilaya - une sorte de femme fatale qui avait tué ses victimes après les avoir couchés avant la vie de prison - a fait plusieurs voyages pour une quantité impressionnante d'alcool. Alors qu'elle sortait du salon, Riley lui a ouvert un front. Russe? Elle avait les caractéristiques pour ça. En fouillant ses doigts sans esprit pour les faire sortir de la mauvaise habitude, Riley atteignit le dernier des profils et se leva de l'écran pour regarder la blonde dévorer sa nourriture. "Travail à toi-même un appétit, hein?" Riley a dit depuis son comptoir. Elle a de nouveau fait référence à la tablette. "Karate Bastard." Riley regarda l'homme avec un sourcil levé pour transmettre une légère réprouvation, puis changea d'expression pour une confusion grimacée. "Je suis désolé." Les excuses n'étaient pas très sincères, mais Riley n'essayais pas de le convaincre autrement. "Je peux vous appeler Keith à la place? Ou Blackwell?" Un sourire aigu éparpillé sur son visage, adoucissant les plis de la victoire précédente. "C'est juste que ma mère me disait toujours de ne pas jurer."

Name: Riley Pielwood Alias: NA Age: 20 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: Snarky and with a love for sharp humour, Riley wouldn’t immediately come across as psychotic to those she meets. Fun-loving and highly appreciative of a few chuckles, Riley makes careless remarks and laughs whenever she will. Though bright and energetic, she hides her claws and filed teeth behind her wide smile, tucked away until her hackles have been raised. Her laughter is bark-like and sharp, as is her bite. She likes teasing people and ribbing them in good fun, but nowhere near as much as she enjoys seeing an expression ranging from dismay to horror to panic to pain unfurl over a face, and knowing she has put it there. She enjoys herself a fair dose of chaos, might instigate it now and then, but she has found that dropping in during the second act isn’t all too bad either. She has an intense weakness for challenges too, and can’t stand being bored, especially if mundane people let her down and fail to fulfill her amusement quota. Sarcasm and sardonicism keep her entertained during lull periods. She doesn’t particularly need to see blood to be satisfied – hasn’t got much of an appetite for it, to be frank – but she will draw it to prove a point if need be. Vindictive, she can get childishly petty and vengeful when she doesn’t get her way. Needless to say, she is not the most mature, but she will do anything for her little sister Naomi. History: Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. It was a crumbling union of two unfortunate souls too prideful to separate that Riley witnessed as a toddler, loathed as an child and overlooked as an adolescent. It helped matters none when her mother got pregnant again and Riley got herself a younger sister at nine. Of course, it was left to Riley to look after the thing right after it was weaned. It took all of six months for her to get attached to little Naomi, but once she began to feel warmth uncoiling in her stomach when looking at the ankle-biter’s rosy cheeks and guileless gummy smile, she was stupidly loyal to a baby. By then, she had gotten herself into a few scuffles, though nothing serious. She would return home with bloody knuckles and bruises blooming anywhere imaginable and her baby sister would brush her chubby grasp over the tender spots on Riley’s skin like a whisper. Their parents had never been big on gentle physical touch, and Riley absolutely lived for those moments. She never lost a fight, and came home daily to coo over Naomi as the dull aches slowly pulsed into faded muscle memory. Their parents slowly spiraled further and further away, eventually becoming so detached and in need of remedy that the dining table was empty more often than not, as they spent their days languishing in numb, alcohol-induced limbos. That however didn’t bother Riley as much as how bone-dry Naomi’s bottle was getting, and when Naomi got a fever Riley was thrown into absolute panic. She considered it a miracle her sister hadn’t gotten sick earlier – the darkened flat hadn’t been feather-brushed in years, much less properly cleaned, and Riley’s cheeks were growing gaunt and hollow to keep Naomi’s plump but almost, it would seem, to no avail. Riley could see it all – the hunger, the pain – diminishing to naught as she perched owlishly by the crib, desperately clinging onto Naomi’s pudgy fist as she screamed and her face turned ruddy and her little voice choked on her own tears. The next morning in school, a boy passed a mindless comment that sent Riley rocketing off her seat. She was sick with worry, and the boy was a brainy bespectacled thing who deserved all her resentment because he came from a house that wasn’t falling apart and parents with a love as deep as their wallets. He couldn’t even fight her off with his own fists. Instead, he begged her to stop and tried to sweeten the plea with money. Riley almost scoffed, until she realised what he was offering and plucked him off the ground. He meekly handed her five dollars, but a shaking of his shoulders and a snarl in his pasty face raised the sum to a princely fifteen. With that money, Riley was able to buy milk formula for Naomi. Given another two recesses and a whole playground full of potential victims with cushy families, Riley could pay for a trip to the doctor’s. She attracted strange stares in the waiting room, as she cradled a squalling baby in knobby arms and with cheeks smudged as dark as soot, but she glared at the receptionist and nurses and patients who were all just blockades between Naomi and the doctor until they tore their eyes to the ground. Naomi got better, but Riley continued to bully the kids, until the pantry was stocked up again and Riley herself began to fill out. When she was twelve, upperclassmen who had seen her exploits during recess where the teachers couldn’t see invited her to play truant with them. She surveyed them warily at first, until they mentioned money. By the time Riley was thirteen, she had become a bully outside of the playground, and ran around with a gang of youths who were all older than her but headed in the same direction. Rogues had already started becoming an issue then, and these gangly adolescents with enough tar in their lungs to reline roads and tattoos snaking around their bodies like vices fantasised living lives of obscene wealth, play, and skullduggery. They got up to mischief on a daily basis; Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. Even if the gang was majorly made up of dim bulbs and dull tools, Riley was saving up handsomely, and they made her laugh and lightened her heart even if they lived a story set against the most grim of backgrounds. Plus, her thick-as-thieves associates in malice would have gladly jumped a bullet for Naomi, now at four a cute rascal with a smile to melt even the ringleader’s heart and enough naivety to shame Riley, and she was grateful for any protection they could offer, now that she had gotten herself involved in risky business. But she lived every day laughing and playing with her sister, running around and wreaking havoc around town with teenagers as mad and starved for the intangible as her, and it was a good life to live. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. But because the one above was too long, I added in this summarised version, because I can understand it would be a pain to read through the whole thing. Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. She later had a little sister by the name of Naomi at the age of nine, who came to care intensely for. She would often get into fights in school, but always came home to Naomi and for that she was grateful. Their parents then stopped providing for them, and it worried Riley that Naomi was getting less and less fed. When Naomi got a fever Riley was worried sick, and after beating up a rich boy in school realised she could extort money from her classmates, using what she unjustly earned to buy milk formula for Naomi, pay for her health, and feed the family again. When she was twelve, she became involved with a gang of youths who were all older than her but filled to the brim in the head with fantasies of being rogues. Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. She stayed on because she was earning and learning, and running amok with these people lifted her spirits. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. What Got You Famous: The same problem happened; I'm so sorry. And she did. She did do her job, got herself paid and told to rest on her laurels until something else came along and they called on her duty again. She did her job several times over, and did it well even if it would make her stomach turn. But she overcame her squeamishness quickly enough, and only pursed her lips when she did her job. But somebody else didn’t. Somebody else screwed up, and Riley was awakened one night by Naomi’s screaming, her parents’ shouting, and the door to her room being kicked down. She was seventeen. A seventeen-year-old girl caught in her bed in nothing but boxers and a singlet, eyes still bleary from sleep and squinting into the spotlight shone on her, as her little sister cried at the doorway, held back by parents who now gave their undivided attention. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly what the ARGO team had been expecting when they crashed into her house on an overnight mission to round-up members of a rogue organisation they had just dismantled, because there was a beat of absolute silence from the officers – armed with impressive weaponry and decked out in bulletproof vests and suits which all looked overdone now – before they started to order her to the ground, voices ricocheting in the cramped room. When Riley failed to comply, one of them reached forward to roughly drag her off the bed. But it had been a long time since Riley had slept, sure of her safety. Before the officer could even blink, she had dragged the serrated edge of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow into the flesh of his underarm. Howling, he let her go, falling back and failing his arm so that blood flew everywhere. Pandemonium peaked, and Pandora’s box opened in that room itself as voices exploded and rifles were whipped into the hunter’s crouch, aimed right at her heart. Another soldier tried to advance, and the hand holding the dagger twitched to right beside her ear, ready to be thrown. Caught in this stalemate, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who broke free of her parents’ hold to push against the back of an officer’s legs, desperate to get through, crying for Riley even though her entire front was splattered with another man’s blood. The officer turned sharply then, every instinct lit and every nerve strung high, and swung the barrel of his rifle down as he peered at Naomi. It was aimed right at her sister. I cannot lose her. With a flick of her wrist that was too easy – so familiar, so simple – Riley threw the dagger. It embedded itself deeply in the chink of armour that had been revealed as the soldier craned his neck downwards. In a spray of blood from the back of his neck, the soldier gave a last sputter and fell. A body was flung at her, pinning her at once against the floor. Riley landed on her back, the breath flattened out of her. She started to wrestle with the man, scratching at his face and knocking his visor askew, all the while hearing the high-pitched shrieks of Naomi. She made a claw-like shape with her hand, whipping it forth to rake her nails down the man’s face. Unexpectedly, the man yowled anew when tongues of flame licked his face. His comrades who had scrambled to save the fallen life whirled around to find Riley struggling to her feet, gazing in awe at her right hand now swallowed in fire. She looked up, to see soldiers with eyes full of intent to bring her down, and waved her arm around, a torch that roared with life as she yelled, “Stand back!” Obstinately, the team advanced, and she flung her hand at them. Fire sprung to life behind a man’s ears, and he scrambled to beat it out. But try as he might he continued to burn. New screams filled the room, and hesitantly the team began to recoil. There was a window just paces away from where Riley stood. She was just about to leap for it, when she heard Naomi – all screams now dead – whimper, “Make it stop.” It was enough to strike Riley dumb; that pause was enough for what remained of the force to bring her down and innovatively bag and handcuff her hands. But she remained limp, lifeless, beneath them, hearing on endless repeat Naomi’s plea. Once she was hauled upright to be taken away, Riley bent to Naomi’s level long enough to say goodbye, before she was heaved into an armoured truck; before she could say – hypocritically – stay out of trouble, be good; before she could hear her sister burst into tears again. Riley’s story gained renown. After all, a girl whose hand spontaneously combusts into flame is never conventional. Reporters craving a juicy story martyred her when word got out how subdued she became once she heard her little sister call out for her. The efforts to make her a saint only intensified when a journalist shallowly researched her background to hit upon the sheer depth of Riley’s care for Naomi. But it was all useless, because Riley was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, locked away somewhere by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content, and no amount of media press was ever going to get her out. Naomi worked with the organisation for a while, fully aware that it was nasty business but getting over her qualms about it for the money she and Naomi were dependent on. But then somebody made a mistake, and an ARGO team came to round up members of the rogue organisation they managed to dismantle. They kicked down their way into her room before the eyes of her parents and Naomi. They woke her up abruptly, and when one of them tried to roughly drag her off the bed, she cut him with the dagger she slept beneath her pillow. Both parties conscious that the other was dangerous, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who pushed against the back of an officer’s legs, trying to get to Riley. The officer turned at the push, and swung his rifle in such a way that the barrel was aimed at Naomi. Afraid at once of losing her sister, Riley threw the dagger and it cut into the back of the soldier’s neck. One of the men pinned her to the floor, and while trying to fight him off, Riley’s hand burst into flame, causing him to yowl and fly back. Riley used her hand now aflame to ward them off, and set a man’s ears on fire from a distance. This gave the rest of the team cause to pause, and while Riley thought about jumping out the window as the men all burned at her feet, she heard Naomi whimper, “Make it stop.” The fight left Riley then, and she was immediately hauled away. Her story gained renown, for the sheer shock factor of Riley’s inflammatory powers, and the selling point that was her love for her sister. Riley however was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, and locked away by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content. Equipment: Daggers. Lots and lots of daggers. She has a belt to carry rows of them like teeth, but she lost it when she was taken into custody from her home. But she has plans to fashion a new one from scratch if need be. Powers/Abilities: Knife-handling. Riley can severely injure anyone with a blade in hand, and even out of hand. Her daggers always fly in the trajectory she wants. She can control flame as well. Fire will burst to life in her palms, or fingertips, or a flammmable object at a reasonable distance - Riley enjoys being able to light candles without having to get up. She can put out a fire if she wills it, and adds in a little of her own fire as well. Her brand of flame is very difficult to put out too. Riley likes to joke that pouring milk over it helps, though the actual trick is to deprive it of oxygen. On a large-scale however that would prove problematic. She can also increase the temperature of her skin to an alarming pitch, so as to scald and give first-degree burns to anyone who tries to grab her. But she can’t sustain too high a temperature for too long; Riley has enzymes too that she doesn’t want denaturing. Weakness: Mention harm to Naomi, and if she thinks you can make good on that promise, she will suppress herself. (If not, it will only enrage her) Drenching her with water would work well to stop her from committing more arson too, I guess. Secret Hideout: Old, and rustic, the tree-house stands in the tree-tops, desolate and away from traffic. It used to be an old haunt for vagabonds and the way-less, and it's just right for Riley if she wants to be alone to think, or if she wants to kip a night. Relationships: None so far with rogues or heroes, but she loves her sister Naomi dearly. She knows a few rogues who carved some names for themselves but ever since being locked away she hasn't heard from them. She has contacts, but they're all far away in her hometown, and distant from the years apart.

Engagé dans sa nourriture, KB a été plus qu'un peu surpris quand le nouveau venu dans le salon lui a parlé directement. Il s'empresse d'avaler une bouche pleine de bœuf avant de faire un sourire qui semble s'appuyer davantage sur le côté d'une grimace. "Vous pouvez m'appeler par n'importe quel nom vous plaît, jeune fille. Ils m'appellent comme ça parce que le monde des arts martiaux n'est pas un morceau de pisse, tu dois être un vrai salaud pour être le meilleur. Joignez-vous à moi pour Brekkie?" Il agita poliment une chaise inoccupée. KB a pensé qu'un peu de courtoisie pourrait ne pas être une mauvaise idée maintenant. Non pas qu'il était bon pour se faire des amis. Mais s'ils étaient coincés à travailler ensemble, autant essayer de rendre ça agréable. "Ce truc que tu fais avec le feu- juste le bon flash, ça. C'est vraiment le cul des moutons. Tu as vu ce que tu as fait avec ces couteaux aussi. Des trucs de beauté, là-bas. J'en ai marre de ces drongos qui veulent seulement utiliser des armes. Des pistolets pour le spectacle, des couteaux pour un pro, hein?" KB a pris ses vêtements plus décontractés. Il n'avait pas pensé à regarder dans sa couchette pour se vêtir, il portait toujours les fonds oranges de son uniforme de prison. Il faudrait qu'il pose ses mains sur des duds plus confortables. Prenant une avalée de son scotch, il chargea l'avant de sa tentative maladroite d'être amical, choisissant le seul sujet dont il se sentait à l'aise de parler. "J'ai fait des combats de couteaux, ici et là. Texas, Corse, Manille, Ostrobotnie, les Pampas. Les gens savent ce qu'ils font avec une lame dans ces endroits, pas de deux façons. Ce que je dis, jeune fille, tu ne veux jamais échanger quelques trucs qui seraient juste pour moi. Nous pourrions tous les deux apprendre quelque chose d'utile. Je veux dire, un mec ne sait jamais tant qu'il ne peut pas en apprendre plus." Il s'est demandé quoi dire d'autre, ne pouvait penser à rien, et a plutôt jeté plus de nourriture dans sa bouche.

Name: Keith Blackwell Alias: Karate Bastard Age: 36 Gender: Male Species: Human Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him. History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program. But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha. The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated. Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate. From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave. Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated. In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly. Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him. Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country. Relationships: None.

Rose n'était pas vraiment satisfaite de la réponse qu'elle a obtenue de Semyaza, elle aurait préféré qu'il se batte un peu avant de l'admettre. "Dis-moi, as-tu même su ce que c'était de servir quelqu'un qui se souciait de toi à la place?" Rose lui a demandé qu'elle essayait encore de le briser pour qu'il veuille la servir. Puis elle a eu une autre pensée, elle n'aurait pas besoin de lui pour la servir pendant longtemps, juste assez longtemps pour terminer un rituel. "Quand la première mission sera terminée, si tu promets de me servir pendant un an, je t'aiderai à libérer ta reine." Rose a ajouté. Elle avait toujours voulu un serviteur loyal et fort. Elle avait des serviteurs dans le passé quand elle dirigeait un culte qui lui était consacré, mais tous ces hommes n'étaient que des humains, aucun d'entre eux n'était particulièrement fort non plus. Bien sûr, Rose avait un peu plus de plan que de le servir, elle voulait quelque chose de lui. Elle aurait bientôt besoin de prolonger sa vie à nouveau, car son immortalité ne venait pas sans travail. Et pour faire cela, la seule chose qui est nécessaire le plus, c'est de corrompre quelqu'un pur de cœur. Elle devrait les corrompre jusqu'à ce qu'ils tuent quelqu'un d'autre. Cependant, cette personne devrait avoir le pouvoir aussi bien, ils ne pouvaient être que n'importe qui. Rose ne pouvait pas corrompre l'individu directement, c'est là que Semyaza allait entrer. Elle avait besoin d'une sorte de championne pour travailler pour elle et accomplir cette tâche. Une fois le sujet corrompu, elle devait prendre son cœur et le manger, complétant le rituel pour prolonger sa vie.

Name: Rose Grinda Alias: Bloody Rose Age: Looks 16 is actually around the age 500 years old Gender: Female Species: Witch Personality: Rose is a very quiet girl for the most part. However when provoked she will start to scream like a banshee and act erratically sometimes walking on the ceilings even. One her favorite ways to lure in pray is start crying to attract attention to herself, then once her victim comes in close enough she executes whatever plan she may have for that person, be it eating them, or making them see their worse night mare. Rose has no actual goal other than to cause misery to everyone she deems a deserving of facing misery. History: Rose was born in the town of Salem just before the witch trials began. She had a loving family however her mother was later accused of witch craft and burned at the stake. After witnessing this Rose ran into the forest soon getting herself lost. She eventually found a cave that was blocked off with many warning signs. She went into the cave despite the warning signs seeing it as shelter. As she went deeper into the cave she noticed many different glowing crystals. All of them were glowing red, and seemed to glow brighter when she got closer to them. As Rose went to sleep that night she started to hear voices, many of them offering kind words to her. The voices even taught Rose various things, one of them was what they called “The oath of Joy.” Which was actually a ritual where one paints a symbol onto their hands and stomach then recites a few lines before being possessed in exchange for immense power. After being possessed Rose returned to Salem now a full blown witch of immense power. She killed those who had wronged her mother, she killed each of them in dark places however that weren’t in the public eye. Some were killed at brothels, others killed in taverns. Once Rose finished her business in Salem she left the town that was now in utter chaos accusing each other of being witches. Rose continued to live as an urban legend in various places for the next 500 years, showing misery to others who came in her path, and killing and eating those she deemed a threat. WGUF-What Got You Famous: Rose was made famous through the urban legends of her luring in and terrorizing victims who then spent the rest of their lives in mental institutes. She really became famous however when there was a horror movie made about her that was extremely popular, it was called “The Bloody Rose.” Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Rose can be torn apart but she will always live through it, however she can be killed through burning her however keeping her still for that is the hard part. Rose also has various magical abilities, one of them being that she can change her body into that of a Creature with a giant mouth that can eat a person in two bites. Rose can make various objects in a room float as long as they are the size of a small lamp. Another power of Rose is illusions as well as levitation. Weakness: Fire is her most well-known weakness however she has another weakness of being trapped by circles of salt, or just salt in general. Salt prevents her from using her abilities as well. Relationships:

Nihil s'était transformée en sa nouvelle tenue, désormais entièrement habillée. Elle ignorait la femme chat qui l'appelait entièrement, se souciant peu du geste grossier. Elle s'examina dans un miroir disponible, se brossant les cheveux de sa main dans une mode plus ordonnée, puis récupérant un scrounchie de la poche de son nouveau short, liant ses cheveux longs à une queue de cheval. Elle examina une fois de plus ses nouveaux vêtements - Une forme de dessus de culture noire, avec des shorts d'oliviers d'accompagnement qui étaient, en effet, très courts. À l'extérieur, ses actions et ses vêtements semblaient être un peu trop 'humains' pour la fille déshumanisée, mais les apparences pouvaient être trompeuses. Ce n'était pas un secret pour elle que les hommes pouvaient être distraits par ses qualités féminines - un facteur psychologique important qui pouvait gagner des batailles. En réalité, elle ne se souciait pas personnellement de son apparence. Elle était maintenant prête à revenir dans le monde de ses camarades, aussi peu qu'elle se souciait d'eux. Elle se dirigea vers le salon, s'attardant près de la porte, reniflant l'air. L'odeur de la nourriture accrochée dans la pièce, émanant de l'assiette de 'Karate Bastard'. Elle se souciait peu du goût de la nourriture - tout le contraire, en fait, comme la dégustation de plats plus simples était plus douce sur ses sens accrus. Une bouchée dans un plat très savoureux avait une chance très réelle de la faire vomir en raison d'une surcharge sensorielle. L'autre parfum qui prévalait était celui de l'alcool, quelque chose dont elle se souciait peu. Naturellement, un soldat comme elle n'avait aucun intérêt à inhiber ses sens. Enfin, elle interrogea la foule, évitant surtout de réagir à n'importe lequel d'entre eux, bien que son visage droit habituel ait pu être légèrement grondé quand son regard passa sur Riley. Je ne sais pas pourquoi cette créature voudrait me parler... ce serait mieux pour nous deux si elle ne le faisait pas. Nihil est finalement entré dans la salle, en examinant les offrandes alimentaires. Elle ne tirait aucun plaisir de manger, mais, comme n'importe quel humain, avait besoin de subsistance pour vivre. Elle a pris une assiette et a simplement ramassé deux tranches de pain blanc clair, les plaçant gingembre sur le plat- le goût doux ne l'emporterait pas, et les calories devraient satisfaire son besoin de nourriture. Elle a ensuite choisi un siège à une table à un jet de pierre du bar- elle n'avait aucun intérêt à fraterniser avec l'autre. Elle a sorti une chaise et s'est assise. Sa façon de s'asseoir semblait presque inhumaine- parfaitement droite, son dos ne s'est même pas reposé contre le dos de la chaise, ce qui a conduit à se demander comment une telle position devrait être confortable. La façon dont elle a mangé était tout aussi étrange, certainement sans la gouffre de Karate Bastard. Au lieu de cela, elle déchira délicatement des morceaux du pain, les souleva jusqu'à sa bouche, mangeant de manière inhabituellement prudente et contrôlée. Elle a pris soin de ne pas dériver son regard vers les autres, de peur qu'ils ne pensent qu'elle voulait de la compagnie.

Emma Summers | Nihil Age: 29 Gender: Female Species: Human History: In the year 1986 a new kind of weapon was bred in the wind-swept desert of Afghanistan. The pressure of the Cold War has been on a steady rise, and it soon exploded in conflict. The Russian invasion of Afghanistan created a new warzone for the US to fight a proxy war against communism. Naturally they sided against Russia, supporting the Afghani Mujahideen. This war served as the backdrop of a highly illegal and highly unethical experiment conducted in the dark depths of the US Military-Industrial Complex by a secret group of researchers, unknown to all but a very select number of US Government officials. The question was simple: How does one create the perfect soldier? The first solution was technological: A serum that greatly increased the physical capabilities of a solider, additionally bestowing them with a number of 'super powers' that would aid them in their job. The second was much darker. In science there is an experiment that is considered taboo. Dubbed "The Forbidden Experiment". What would happen to someone if they were deprived of exposure to language of any sort? The researchers designed an evocative experiment: A child deprived of human contact. Taught by machines. Gradually exposed to the world through video and picture. Kept in peak physical condition. Raised by technology to be a soldier that had no regard for human life or their own life, instilled with unflinching obedience. Combined with their newly invented 'super-serum' this child was to be the ultimate soldier. The child had no name, but the researchers gave her a nickname: Nihil. A Latin word best described as meaning 'the absence of anything'. Nothingness. It was at the age of twelve that Nihil was given her first mission. The Soviet–Afghan War was already over, but the Cold War was still on and researchers were eager to see the fruits of their labor. An operation was called by the general who was privy to the details of the experiment, buried in layers of deniability. The mission was simple: Capture a Soviet outpost. It was a task for a group of highly trained soldiers. Instead a little girl was sent in. The mission, needless to say, was a success. Nihil proved to be highly capable in combat, and it seemed that all the programming and experimenting had indeed created the perfect soldier. As time went on the US's 'secret soldier' went on more missions, always proving successful against the most unlikely of odds. Every time it was the same: She'd receive her orders, be dropped into the hot zone, carry out her mission, exfiltrate, and then return to isolation, or to the training room connected to her cell, but she still always never saw a single person. The only times she had human contact was through the scope of a rifle. The only voices she heard where the screams of her targets. But something had to give, the shroud of isolation couldn't be kept forever. There was one variable that the researcher's couldn't control: Themselves. They weren't bad people... or maybe they were, but they felt remorse. Some of them were unable to handle the kind of research they were doing. Some were entirely uncaring, seeing Nihil as nothing more than a subject. But almost all of them were quelled by their paycheck. Almost. One of them faced the ultimate struggle: Love. One of the researchers who spent countless hours observing Nihil came to feel a strange paternal affection for the girl who he had twisted into a soldier. It happened slowly, but it happened nonetheless. One day Nihil was sitting in her cell, as she always had, when something unexpected came through the slit in the door that had always delivered only food: A flower, and a note. The clean, white, sterile, surgical cell, devoid of anything but the basic necessities of life and a computer screen through which she had been educated had suddenly been invaded by a small speck of color. The facility rose in a panic. Their carefully controlled experiment had suddenly been thrown askew. The never anticipated one of their own going so far in mutiny. Nihil picked up the note, felt the paper. The words which she had only ever seen etched into a computer screen. Researchers scrambled. She couldn't read it, they couldn't let her. It would likely destroy their work. As the mutinous researcher had been carried away, the door to Nihil's cell opened and for the first time she had seen a face on the other side of it. A stern face, a human face, reaching for the note. Suddenly her world had been thrown into question. Thoughts that never came to her, question that she had never come to ask. Who was she? Who were they? What are they? Who are the people she killed? Why did she exist? Something snapped inside her. She understood that they did something wrong to her, the note made it clear. The girl easily overpowered the researcher, slamming his face against the wall and leaving a bloody smear. Their experiment was over. How could it succeed? No one can stem the very basis of human nature. They had reached too far. The girl they bred for war, of course, had no problem escaping from their confines after that. What was once a sterile research lab was sullied by blood. No one in the research staff, not one of the guards, nor one of the numerous other unholy experiments, not one of the janitors, or the maintenance workers, or the soldiers lived. They had created a monster. An unfeeling monster that wanted nothing more than to feel. As she emerged from the depths of the facility she emerged into a unknown environment. She had only ever known desert and mountains and the lab. This place was different. The mountains reached taller, scraping against the sky above. The ground was not sand, but concrete. Around her stood none of the 'Soviets' she had been taught were the enemy. Instead she was surrounded by people. Unfamiliar people. Numerous people, countless people. They stared at her: A teenage girl soaked in blood, carrying a rifle, clothing tattered. One of them called the police. Nihil was already gone, running away into a world she knew very little about. Soon after that she found herself taken back into the fold of the US Military. Escaping wouldn't be that easy. It had been something they had prepared for. They could track her, of course. But things were different as she returned. She came to learn the name of the general in charge of the experiment: Brook. General Dalton Brook. He, like many of the researchers, came to see that the experiment was a mistake, so he extended an offer to reintegrate her into society with support from to government. The price was simple: Nihil's secrecy. No one would know where she came from. She wanted to know what life was like outside of confinement. She agreed. She was soon re-educated, placed into an apartment, taught how to live like a 'normal' person. They gave her money. They gave her freedom. They gave her a name, Emma. They even let her join the VA. She was technically still a veteran, after all. But it wasn't enough for her. How could it be? She soon came to recognize what they took from her. What she could never get back. She was still a warrior, no matter what they did. She still couldn't feel like any other person. She still couldn't know what it was like to really be normal. So she disappeared, again. This time she made sure they couldn't follow. She used her powers to escape, again, and never looked back. She also promised herself one thing: She would exact revenge upon General Dalton Brook. After that she slipped into the criminal underworld. By day she kept on her mask: The mask of a normal person, pretending to feel the emotions she could never feel. By night she was a rouge. Her powers made her a natural fit. She still only knew how to be a soldier. Assassination was her trade. She still felt nothing when she took a life. She felt no remorse. She wanted to hurt the people who hurt her and the people who didn't hurt her. She wouldn't be satisfied until everyone bled. But one thing still kept her sane. One thing kept her from being a psychopath: The memory of the flower and the note she had received from the one person who had loved her. The note she still kept with her. The note no one else would ever see. Part of her wanted to hurt, but part of her wanted to feel. Part of her wanted to discover the emotions she never knew. As the years went on she felt her life become meaningless. She only lived to live. The feeling still wasn't there. She came to realize he joy that she once thought she felt when she killed was false, engineered by the researchers. She still wanted to kill Dalton Brook, but it seemed unattainable. He was half a world away. She felt trapped. And then one day during her 'late night activities' she was caught by a hero. Captain Power. She could've escaped. It would've been easy with her powers. But she gave up. She let herself get caught. He was confused, but took her in. And that was it. She was sent to prison, buried behind layers of security designed to prevent her escape. She couldn't be stopped. Ironically her powers made escape quite easy for her. But she didn't care. It was just like old times. "I can leave whenever I want." Personality: Nihil is devoid of emotion. She strives for it, but it's always out of reach. She's only felt emotion twice: Hatred for the people who authorized the experiments conducted on her, and a small moment of happiness hen she read a letter penned by the only person who has loved her. She is almost entirely apathetic towards existence, only driven by her goal to kill General Dalton Brook. She has no friends, has never tried to make any friends, and is seemingly unable to make friends. How can someone with no emotion have friends? She's entirely confident in her abilities, convinced that nothing can stop her, no matter how incorrect that might be. She rarely speaks, and isn't very easy to work with, instead preferring to operate solo. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Nihil's principal talent is mastery with almost all forms of weaponry. She is a highly skilled marksman, able to use a sniper rifle to make shots that no normal human can make. She has a supreme reaction time and can slow her breathing to the point where it is almost impossible to discern if she is actually alive. Her senses are also highly heightened, furthering her skill as a marksman. Her skill with guns is so great that she can shoot the individual blades of a helicopter while they are in motion. She has been trained in the art of 'gun-kata', a form of martial arts that integrates hand to hand techniques with gunplay and the statistical study of a gunfight, allowing her to very accurately predict and then react to the patterns that her enemies will use, making her a very deadly foe against groups of enemies. She is of course, by extension, highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. The serum given to her also has imbued her with more 'super-human' abilities. She is more durable than an average person, able to survive a number of gunshots or a long fall, has strength comparable to a man twice her size. One of her principal abilities is they power to move at speeds that are almost imperceptible, appearing as little more than a blur. Additionally she can jump much higher than the average human, around the height of 20 feet. This allows her supreme mobility, letting dart quickly across the battlefield in a blink of an eye. Weakness: Nihil's first weakness is her highly heightened senses. Although this at first seems to strictly be an advantage she is prone to sensory overload, extreme smells or loud sounds can have highly adverse effects on her. Additionally it is worth nothing that although she is more durable than the average human, unlike many super humans she is still very susceptible to gunshots or other physical damage. She might be durable, but she is very far from invulnerable. Finally the super-serum has had some adverse effects on her. She is prone to intense migraines, which in the past has not served her well in battle. The serum may have more negatory side-effects that remain unseen. Secret Hideout: Nihil has no secret hideout, only a shitty apartment, Relationships: The only feeling Nihil has for any person is the hate she feels for the General.

Hahahahahahaha. Semyaza riait, se levant jusqu'à ses pieds en jetant ses bras dans le ciel. "Qu'est-ce que ces terriens seraient sans leur audace? En ce moment, avec nos « bienfaiteurs » qui coulent littéralement dans nos veines, vous vous attendez à ce que je prenne une autre terre sur sa parole? Croyez-vous que mon orgueil soit si abîmé par cette débâcle que je ne penserais rien à trahir mon fealty pour des paroles chéries et une promesse? Absurde!" "Prouvez vos paroles, terriens, et je jetterais mon orgueil en un instant." Il a continué, sa voix prenant un bord dur. "Mais je ne me dégraderai pas un moment plus tôt que je ne le crois nécessaire."

Name: Semyaza Alias: General Semyaza, Greatest Warrior of the Grigori Empire Age: Indeterminate. Aged over 200 years, and then spent a great deal of time sealed in an urn floating through space. Gender: Definitely masculine. Species: Grotesque Idol given life via strange alien magic. Personality: Semyaza was brought to life to do two things: conquer and destroy. This he does in the name of his Queen, whom he was sworn undying loyalty towards. He is an incredibly prideful warrior who is incapable of turning down a challenge, and despite himself has a flair for the dramatic. He is not well versed in anything that does not pertain to battle or destruction and is both literal minded and disturbingly naive. He's still working out how to make decisions for himself now that he doesn't have the Queen to tell him what to do. He considers humans trash to be exterminated, but his loyalty to the Queen is so great that he will throw away his pride and work with them if there's even the slightest chance of reviving her. History: Semyaza was brought to life in a far off star system by an evil witch named Queen Grigoria and waged a two hundred year war leading her armies of Groteque Idols in an attempt to steal the star systems throne from its rightful ruler, the wise Lord Metatron. In the final moments of the conflict, however, Lord Metatron sacrificed himself to save his people. Sealing himself, Grigoria, and Semyaza into a magic urn and having it cast into space to drift forever among the stars... WGUF-What Got You Famous: ...until it had the misfortune of slamming into our moon, cracking it and releasing Metatron, Grigoria, and Semyaza. Grigoria immediately set her sights on the nearest planet, resolved to CONQUER EARTH, and began building up her army. The weakened Metatron slipped away, however, falling to Earth and passing the last of his powers to five teenagers so that they might defend their home from this threat. Semyaza would face them personally several times while leading Grigoria's ground troops. The last and most memorable took place in Tokyo, where he was magically grown to a hundred stories high in order to do battle with them and their giant robot. He was struck down, but not killed for fear of the collateral damage should he explode in the densely packed city. A few hours later the spell wore off, he shrunk to regular size, and was carted off by ARGO authorities for imprisonment and study. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Semyaza has strength, stamina, and endurance far beyond what any ordinary human can muster. He can survive deep underwater and in a vacuum of space indefinitely. His arms can stretch out like snakes. He can fire a battery of high powered lasers from his eyes, as well as purple lightning out of his hands. Two blades spring out of the gauntlets above his wrists that curve inward and are capable of slicing through nearly anything. His cape can transform into batlike wings that allow him to fly. In addition he is very interested, after years of watching Queen Grigoria do it, in carving Grotesque Idols of his own and thinks he might have the basic technique down. He just doesn't have the sheer magical force that allowed her to churn them out on a constant basis. If he dies he explodes into a massive fireball, and is somehow able to speak without having a mouth. Weakness: Being exposed to religious paraphernalia weakens his powers. Holy symbols, holy places, holy people, even prayer if spoken by a true believer. Anything that gives off "the same wavelength as Metatron's power" is poison to him. A long enough exposure would render him completely helpless. Secret Hideout: A castle on the moon that he can't currently reach unless he wants to fly all the way there himself. Contains a teleportation pad (broken), a extensive library of magic tomes, a telescope with which to view anyone or anything on Earth, and a workshop for creating Grotesque Idols. The castle now lies in complete ruin from the final battle against Queen Grigoria. Relationships: -The Teen Angels: Probably in their twenties by now, come to think of it. A three man, two woman team residing in Los Angeles, California. These teens were given the power to defend the world by Lord Metatron, donning magical armor made from his essence and summoning giant robots when things got hairy. Interestingly, each was of a different religious faith. (Nemesis) -Queen Grigoria: The leader of the Grigori Empire and an evil witch with phenomenal magical power. Defeated in an epic final battle and resealed in the urn, which is now hidden...somewhere. (Glorious Leader) -Azazel, Sariel, Ezekiel, Armaros, Baraqel, and Arakiel: Semyaza's direct subordinates, each killed in turn by the Teen Angels. (Dead friends)

Le sourire du loup de Riley s'élargit à l'invitation de KB à dîner, et elle siffle humblement. "Nous avons un Bastard gentleman, hein?" Même si elle n'avait pas encore faim, elle a lâché. "Hm, pourquoi pas? Tu n'as pas l'air d'être sur le point de tuer sur la table à manger." Se poussant du comptoir, elle marcha et prit la chaise à laquelle il avait fait un geste. Trois ans dans une cage, et la moindre politesse ne l'a pas mise à bout. Mais il n'avait pas l'air mal, même en commençant cette alliance avec quelques mots gentils. Riley n'était pas charmé par les éloges, mais elle commençait à penser qu'il y avait un potentiel de coopération dans cette équipe de patchwork. Même s'il a utilisé un argot qui n'était que du swahili à Riley. Mais le gist a vite été pris, et Riley a ri, même un ronflement. "Prends-le, Blackwell", a-t-elle dit. "Vous n'êtes pas trop mauvais avec ces arts martiaux non plus. Bien que vous devriez penser à couvrir votre torse de temps en temps », a ajouté Riley avec un peu de chortle. « Nous pourrions tous les deux apprendre quelque chose d'utile. Je veux dire, un mec ne sait jamais tant qu'il ne peut pas en apprendre plus." Comme Blackwell a creusé à nouveau, Riley a levé un front. Maintenant, une tasse qui n'était pas encore surbrillante avec confiance et cocu. Elle avait manqué l'humilité à visage nu, surtout quand elle n'avait eu que pour compagnie. Elle sourit à travers la table, et donna un clin d'œil rapide pour une poignée de main. Oui, Blackwell s'avérerait tolérable. "Absolument. Rappelle-moi quand tu veux, et on va jeter des lames." Décidant de ne pas interférer avec sa nourriture, elle se leva pour voir Nihil entrer. Elle avait toujours l'air surchargée et mise sur, mais elle avait aussi changé en quelque chose qui avait Riley faire une double prise internalisée. Mais elle a jeté un coup d'œil, après avoir jeté un sourire insouciant et donné une gaffe de ses doigts en saluant. Nihil avait cependant l'air absolument déterminé à ne pas trop prendre note des deux autres occupants du salon, de peur que l'attention ne lui soit retournée. Riley regarda à nouveau sur sa tablette, rafraîchissant la page d'information de Nihil en entendant la femme assembler un repas et trouver un siège - bien loin d'eux, elle a noté avec un petit sourire pour elle-même. Elle n'a rien trouvé sur sa tablette pour indiquer comment Nihil aurait pu survivre à ces balles, et Riley n'avait jamais été bonne à abandonner une question avant de trouver sa réponse partenaire. À toutes fins utiles, Nihil semblait être humain, mercenaire d'une ancienne vie, avec une posture impeccable et un dos raidi comme en préparation à une certaine grêle du socialisme. Riley a étouffé un rire. Elle ne devrait vraiment pas, c'était juste demander à Riley de l'aiguiller plus. Riley regarda apologétiquement à Blackwell, espérant que la conversation qu'elle allait essayer de ponter n'interromprait pas son repas. "J'attends toujours votre autiobiographie," dit Riley dans une voix de plaisanterie qui portait. Oh, c'était carrément impoli de piéger quelqu'un pour un passé, une histoire, surtout parmi les Rogues avec des antécédents moins que savoureux, et - pour beaucoup d'entre eux - du sang sur leurs mains. Mais elle serait damnée si elle ne découvrait pas ce qu'elle voulait avant qu'elle n'ait eu neuf vies. Mais, a-t-elle reconsidéré, certaines formalités ont dû être mises hors de la route d'abord. Son ton et son comportement changeant légèrement - comme un enfant en colère bruissant ses épaules - elle a parlé par des mots qui sont venus dans un flux abîmé, « aurait dû dire cela plus tôt, mais la chance ne s'est jamais produite. La mousse... la chose, et les balles." Une main gesticulait, comme pour peindre un portrait tournoyant de ce qu'elle essayait d'atteindre, avant de se lever pour écraser ses cheveux cisaillés - une marque d'agitation - alors qu'elle continuait étincelantement, « Merci... vous, pour cela. Même si - nah,'spécialement parce que - cela signifiait prendre quelques coups à l'arrière." Dieu, les manifestations de gratitude n'étaient que les pires.

Name: Riley Pielwood Alias: NA Age: 20 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: Snarky and with a love for sharp humour, Riley wouldn’t immediately come across as psychotic to those she meets. Fun-loving and highly appreciative of a few chuckles, Riley makes careless remarks and laughs whenever she will. Though bright and energetic, she hides her claws and filed teeth behind her wide smile, tucked away until her hackles have been raised. Her laughter is bark-like and sharp, as is her bite. She likes teasing people and ribbing them in good fun, but nowhere near as much as she enjoys seeing an expression ranging from dismay to horror to panic to pain unfurl over a face, and knowing she has put it there. She enjoys herself a fair dose of chaos, might instigate it now and then, but she has found that dropping in during the second act isn’t all too bad either. She has an intense weakness for challenges too, and can’t stand being bored, especially if mundane people let her down and fail to fulfill her amusement quota. Sarcasm and sardonicism keep her entertained during lull periods. She doesn’t particularly need to see blood to be satisfied – hasn’t got much of an appetite for it, to be frank – but she will draw it to prove a point if need be. Vindictive, she can get childishly petty and vengeful when she doesn’t get her way. Needless to say, she is not the most mature, but she will do anything for her little sister Naomi. History: Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. It was a crumbling union of two unfortunate souls too prideful to separate that Riley witnessed as a toddler, loathed as an child and overlooked as an adolescent. It helped matters none when her mother got pregnant again and Riley got herself a younger sister at nine. Of course, it was left to Riley to look after the thing right after it was weaned. It took all of six months for her to get attached to little Naomi, but once she began to feel warmth uncoiling in her stomach when looking at the ankle-biter’s rosy cheeks and guileless gummy smile, she was stupidly loyal to a baby. By then, she had gotten herself into a few scuffles, though nothing serious. She would return home with bloody knuckles and bruises blooming anywhere imaginable and her baby sister would brush her chubby grasp over the tender spots on Riley’s skin like a whisper. Their parents had never been big on gentle physical touch, and Riley absolutely lived for those moments. She never lost a fight, and came home daily to coo over Naomi as the dull aches slowly pulsed into faded muscle memory. Their parents slowly spiraled further and further away, eventually becoming so detached and in need of remedy that the dining table was empty more often than not, as they spent their days languishing in numb, alcohol-induced limbos. That however didn’t bother Riley as much as how bone-dry Naomi’s bottle was getting, and when Naomi got a fever Riley was thrown into absolute panic. She considered it a miracle her sister hadn’t gotten sick earlier – the darkened flat hadn’t been feather-brushed in years, much less properly cleaned, and Riley’s cheeks were growing gaunt and hollow to keep Naomi’s plump but almost, it would seem, to no avail. Riley could see it all – the hunger, the pain – diminishing to naught as she perched owlishly by the crib, desperately clinging onto Naomi’s pudgy fist as she screamed and her face turned ruddy and her little voice choked on her own tears. The next morning in school, a boy passed a mindless comment that sent Riley rocketing off her seat. She was sick with worry, and the boy was a brainy bespectacled thing who deserved all her resentment because he came from a house that wasn’t falling apart and parents with a love as deep as their wallets. He couldn’t even fight her off with his own fists. Instead, he begged her to stop and tried to sweeten the plea with money. Riley almost scoffed, until she realised what he was offering and plucked him off the ground. He meekly handed her five dollars, but a shaking of his shoulders and a snarl in his pasty face raised the sum to a princely fifteen. With that money, Riley was able to buy milk formula for Naomi. Given another two recesses and a whole playground full of potential victims with cushy families, Riley could pay for a trip to the doctor’s. She attracted strange stares in the waiting room, as she cradled a squalling baby in knobby arms and with cheeks smudged as dark as soot, but she glared at the receptionist and nurses and patients who were all just blockades between Naomi and the doctor until they tore their eyes to the ground. Naomi got better, but Riley continued to bully the kids, until the pantry was stocked up again and Riley herself began to fill out. When she was twelve, upperclassmen who had seen her exploits during recess where the teachers couldn’t see invited her to play truant with them. She surveyed them warily at first, until they mentioned money. By the time Riley was thirteen, she had become a bully outside of the playground, and ran around with a gang of youths who were all older than her but headed in the same direction. Rogues had already started becoming an issue then, and these gangly adolescents with enough tar in their lungs to reline roads and tattoos snaking around their bodies like vices fantasised living lives of obscene wealth, play, and skullduggery. They got up to mischief on a daily basis; Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. Even if the gang was majorly made up of dim bulbs and dull tools, Riley was saving up handsomely, and they made her laugh and lightened her heart even if they lived a story set against the most grim of backgrounds. Plus, her thick-as-thieves associates in malice would have gladly jumped a bullet for Naomi, now at four a cute rascal with a smile to melt even the ringleader’s heart and enough naivety to shame Riley, and she was grateful for any protection they could offer, now that she had gotten herself involved in risky business. But she lived every day laughing and playing with her sister, running around and wreaking havoc around town with teenagers as mad and starved for the intangible as her, and it was a good life to live. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. But because the one above was too long, I added in this summarised version, because I can understand it would be a pain to read through the whole thing. Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. She later had a little sister by the name of Naomi at the age of nine, who came to care intensely for. She would often get into fights in school, but always came home to Naomi and for that she was grateful. Their parents then stopped providing for them, and it worried Riley that Naomi was getting less and less fed. When Naomi got a fever Riley was worried sick, and after beating up a rich boy in school realised she could extort money from her classmates, using what she unjustly earned to buy milk formula for Naomi, pay for her health, and feed the family again. When she was twelve, she became involved with a gang of youths who were all older than her but filled to the brim in the head with fantasies of being rogues. Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. She stayed on because she was earning and learning, and running amok with these people lifted her spirits. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. What Got You Famous: The same problem happened; I'm so sorry. And she did. She did do her job, got herself paid and told to rest on her laurels until something else came along and they called on her duty again. She did her job several times over, and did it well even if it would make her stomach turn. But she overcame her squeamishness quickly enough, and only pursed her lips when she did her job. But somebody else didn’t. Somebody else screwed up, and Riley was awakened one night by Naomi’s screaming, her parents’ shouting, and the door to her room being kicked down. She was seventeen. A seventeen-year-old girl caught in her bed in nothing but boxers and a singlet, eyes still bleary from sleep and squinting into the spotlight shone on her, as her little sister cried at the doorway, held back by parents who now gave their undivided attention. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly what the ARGO team had been expecting when they crashed into her house on an overnight mission to round-up members of a rogue organisation they had just dismantled, because there was a beat of absolute silence from the officers – armed with impressive weaponry and decked out in bulletproof vests and suits which all looked overdone now – before they started to order her to the ground, voices ricocheting in the cramped room. When Riley failed to comply, one of them reached forward to roughly drag her off the bed. But it had been a long time since Riley had slept, sure of her safety. Before the officer could even blink, she had dragged the serrated edge of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow into the flesh of his underarm. Howling, he let her go, falling back and failing his arm so that blood flew everywhere. Pandemonium peaked, and Pandora’s box opened in that room itself as voices exploded and rifles were whipped into the hunter’s crouch, aimed right at her heart. Another soldier tried to advance, and the hand holding the dagger twitched to right beside her ear, ready to be thrown. Caught in this stalemate, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who broke free of her parents’ hold to push against the back of an officer’s legs, desperate to get through, crying for Riley even though her entire front was splattered with another man’s blood. The officer turned sharply then, every instinct lit and every nerve strung high, and swung the barrel of his rifle down as he peered at Naomi. It was aimed right at her sister. I cannot lose her. With a flick of her wrist that was too easy – so familiar, so simple – Riley threw the dagger. It embedded itself deeply in the chink of armour that had been revealed as the soldier craned his neck downwards. In a spray of blood from the back of his neck, the soldier gave a last sputter and fell. A body was flung at her, pinning her at once against the floor. Riley landed on her back, the breath flattened out of her. She started to wrestle with the man, scratching at his face and knocking his visor askew, all the while hearing the high-pitched shrieks of Naomi. She made a claw-like shape with her hand, whipping it forth to rake her nails down the man’s face. Unexpectedly, the man yowled anew when tongues of flame licked his face. His comrades who had scrambled to save the fallen life whirled around to find Riley struggling to her feet, gazing in awe at her right hand now swallowed in fire. She looked up, to see soldiers with eyes full of intent to bring her down, and waved her arm around, a torch that roared with life as she yelled, “Stand back!” Obstinately, the team advanced, and she flung her hand at them. Fire sprung to life behind a man’s ears, and he scrambled to beat it out. But try as he might he continued to burn. New screams filled the room, and hesitantly the team began to recoil. There was a window just paces away from where Riley stood. She was just about to leap for it, when she heard Naomi – all screams now dead – whimper, “Make it stop.” It was enough to strike Riley dumb; that pause was enough for what remained of the force to bring her down and innovatively bag and handcuff her hands. But she remained limp, lifeless, beneath them, hearing on endless repeat Naomi’s plea. Once she was hauled upright to be taken away, Riley bent to Naomi’s level long enough to say goodbye, before she was heaved into an armoured truck; before she could say – hypocritically – stay out of trouble, be good; before she could hear her sister burst into tears again. Riley’s story gained renown. After all, a girl whose hand spontaneously combusts into flame is never conventional. Reporters craving a juicy story martyred her when word got out how subdued she became once she heard her little sister call out for her. The efforts to make her a saint only intensified when a journalist shallowly researched her background to hit upon the sheer depth of Riley’s care for Naomi. But it was all useless, because Riley was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, locked away somewhere by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content, and no amount of media press was ever going to get her out. Naomi worked with the organisation for a while, fully aware that it was nasty business but getting over her qualms about it for the money she and Naomi were dependent on. But then somebody made a mistake, and an ARGO team came to round up members of the rogue organisation they managed to dismantle. They kicked down their way into her room before the eyes of her parents and Naomi. They woke her up abruptly, and when one of them tried to roughly drag her off the bed, she cut him with the dagger she slept beneath her pillow. Both parties conscious that the other was dangerous, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who pushed against the back of an officer’s legs, trying to get to Riley. The officer turned at the push, and swung his rifle in such a way that the barrel was aimed at Naomi. Afraid at once of losing her sister, Riley threw the dagger and it cut into the back of the soldier’s neck. One of the men pinned her to the floor, and while trying to fight him off, Riley’s hand burst into flame, causing him to yowl and fly back. Riley used her hand now aflame to ward them off, and set a man’s ears on fire from a distance. This gave the rest of the team cause to pause, and while Riley thought about jumping out the window as the men all burned at her feet, she heard Naomi whimper, “Make it stop.” The fight left Riley then, and she was immediately hauled away. Her story gained renown, for the sheer shock factor of Riley’s inflammatory powers, and the selling point that was her love for her sister. Riley however was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, and locked away by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content. Equipment: Daggers. Lots and lots of daggers. She has a belt to carry rows of them like teeth, but she lost it when she was taken into custody from her home. But she has plans to fashion a new one from scratch if need be. Powers/Abilities: Knife-handling. Riley can severely injure anyone with a blade in hand, and even out of hand. Her daggers always fly in the trajectory she wants. She can control flame as well. Fire will burst to life in her palms, or fingertips, or a flammmable object at a reasonable distance - Riley enjoys being able to light candles without having to get up. She can put out a fire if she wills it, and adds in a little of her own fire as well. Her brand of flame is very difficult to put out too. Riley likes to joke that pouring milk over it helps, though the actual trick is to deprive it of oxygen. On a large-scale however that would prove problematic. She can also increase the temperature of her skin to an alarming pitch, so as to scald and give first-degree burns to anyone who tries to grab her. But she can’t sustain too high a temperature for too long; Riley has enzymes too that she doesn’t want denaturing. Weakness: Mention harm to Naomi, and if she thinks you can make good on that promise, she will suppress herself. (If not, it will only enrage her) Drenching her with water would work well to stop her from committing more arson too, I guess. Secret Hideout: Old, and rustic, the tree-house stands in the tree-tops, desolate and away from traffic. It used to be an old haunt for vagabonds and the way-less, and it's just right for Riley if she wants to be alone to think, or if she wants to kip a night. Relationships: None so far with rogues or heroes, but she loves her sister Naomi dearly. She knows a few rogues who carved some names for themselves but ever since being locked away she hasn't heard from them. She has contacts, but they're all far away in her hometown, and distant from the years apart.

Plus tôt... Claudia a donné un léger sourire, tordant une serrure de ses cheveux non kempts et non coupés alors que la porte de cellule s'ouvrait par elle-même. Plusieurs whoops d'excitation sonnaient de l'extérieur de la cellule, suivis par les sons de métal croquant alors que quelques-uns des détenus sortaient des gardes robotiques. Claudia regarda ses propres mains, qui étaient pâles et faibles après tant de temps passé à l'intérieur de la petite cellule solitaire. Elle a décidé que ce ne serait probablement pas la meilleure idée de s'attaquer aux robots maintenant, puisque "Big Red" serait probablement endormi pour les prochaines minutes. Elle s'est lentement mise aux pieds et a balancé vers la porte vide, seulement pour le sentiment familier de brûlure, la douleur de la poitrine poignardée pour la submerger à nouveau. La tête tournante, elle se pencha contre la porte pour reprendre son souffle, sentant son cou pour l'appareil attaché autour de sa clavicule avec le tube connecté à l'aiguille encastrée dans une artère. "Cyka blyat", Claudia bourdonna sous son souffle alors qu'elle se redressait, essayant d'alimenter la douleur. Que le personnage de M. Sinister avait dit qu'il allait fermer tous les dispositifs de confinement de superpuissance, mais elle ne pouvait pas dire sous cet angle si le collier l'injectant régulièrement avec du composé antimutagène était arrêté ou non. De toute façon, Claudia a décidé alors qu'elle se dirigeait vers le tunnel à vent, cette chose devrait aller. Elle a été plus ralentie par l'anti-mutagène douloureux puis elle a pensé. Quand le tunnel l'a finalement craquée et qu'elle a atterrie à l'arrière de la salle des dômes, les autres combattaient déjà le directeur. Prenant la scène, elle n'a pas reconnu beaucoup d'autres évasions dans la pièce, bien qu'elle ait pensé que le monstre corné géant se branlant avec le directeur ressemblait à quelque chose qu'elle avait vu dans un film d'horreur une fois. Une grenade fumigène a explosé au centre de la pièce, alors Claudia a profité de l'occasion pour se faufiler vers le mur, bien loin des combats. Elle n'allait pas avoir une chance contre les robots ordinaires sans Big Red, donc elle n'était pas assez bête ou crédule pour aller après le gros ici. Jusqu'à ce qu'elle revienne, elle pourrait au moins enlever ce collier. L'appareil lui-même était assez facile à casser sans le système de sécurité lui donnant un choc quasi létal, mais l'aiguille était plus un problème. Sentant le point d'insertion de l'aiguille, elle a failli sauter alors qu'une grenade détonait sur le mur à côté d'elle, étendant la ferraille sur le sol, y compris une pièce particulièrement pointue sur la taille d'un téléphone portable atterrissant devant ses pieds. Elle a avalé, sachant ce qu'il fallait suivre, car l'aiguille était trop solide pour être coupée et ne pouvait pas être détachée du collier lui-même. Avec une expression stoïque, elle a pris le métal shard et l'a tenu à son cou, près de l'endroit où la IV était attachée. Les mains tremblantes, affreusement conscientes de ce qu'elle devait faire, Claudia ferma les yeux et imagina la fille aux cheveux noirs avec les yeux bleus les plus tendres assis à côté d'elle, ses mains enveloppées confortablement autour du bras de Claudia. "Je ferai tout ce qu'il faut pour te trouver, Kim..." Le cri de Claudia a été noyé par les explosions et le bruit de verser de l'eau. Le sang chaud a trempé sa combinaison orange tandis que le collier s'est emparé du sol, sans usage, liquide vert malade qui coulait de l'extrémité de l'aiguille. Claudia fermait une main autour de sa blessure au cou et regardait la chose avec haine avant de se rendre compte que l'endroit se déplaçait dangereusement, et les autres étaient déjà sortis des portes d'entrée, laissant derrière eux le gardien sans tête suspecte. Jurissant, elle a essayé de se diriger vers la sortie, presque s'effondrer à nouveau à partir d'un autre coup de couteau, anti-mutagène provoqué douleur. Un haut-parleur quelque part au-dessus a crié au sujet d'un Protocole Deep Sea mis en vigueur. Avec un nom comme celui-ci et le déplacement violent de l'île, il ne pouvait impliquer qu'une seule chose. « Bien sûr, l'île coule », a dit Claudia à personne en particulier. "S'ils ont foiré ainsi, bien sûr, ils voudraient enterrer les preuves sous l'océan. "Mais hélas, il est temps de partir," est venu une voix obnubieusement confiante de la PDA coincée dans le col de la hanche de sa combinaison. "Il y a un sous-marin qui vous attend près du quai." Les yeux de Claudia s'élargissaient brusquement. Les sous-marins ont coulé sous l'eau aussi. Avec un éclat d'énergie maniaque, elle se chargea pour les portes et les poussa à l'ouverture, seulement pour se déplacer et s'écrouler sur la surface rocheuse de l'île, se meurtrissant gravement dans le processus, et atterrissant sur son arrière au pied du quai de pierre, juste à temps pour regarder le sous-marin plonger sous l'océan. "Non!" Elle a crié après eux, frappant ses poings dans le béton, ignorant les contusions et la blessure du cou qui saigne encore. "Vous m'avez laissé ici, salauds! Tu m'as laissé tomber ici!" Elle a pris une roche importante et l'a lobée après la piste du sous-marin, surextendant son lancer et atterrissant fort sur ses mains et ses genoux. Respirant lourdement, elle bourdonna une vapeur de langage grossier alors que l'eau fraîche de l'océan commençait à s'emparer de ses poings serrés et sanglants et que le sang de sa blessure au cou commençait à s'amadouer en dessous. Elle s'est arrêtée tout à coup, comme quelque chose qui claquait à l'intérieur d'elle. Les dernières traces de douleur de l'anti-mutagène s'estompèrent, et elle sentit une lueur chaude revenir à sa poitrine, sentiment qui avait été désespérément absent pendant sa longue incarcération. Claudia sourit malgré elle. Big Red était de retour. Mais elle devait encore suivre ce sous-marin. Bien sûr que ce serait facile de les abandonner et de continuer sur sa voie joyeuse, mais elle n'était pas stupide. M. Sinister non plus, et elle était sûre qu'il avait un moyen de s'assurer qu'elle et les autres voyous viendraient tranquillement. Donc elle a dû suivre ce sous-marin, et elle a eu une bonne idée comment. Elle a sorti le PDA et l'a tenu dans sa main pour assurer la sécurité, puis s'est retournée pour regarder l'eau et a commencé à changer sa forme. "Vous savez," dit-elle à haute voix alors que sa combinaison de saut commençait à se constricter et à s'étirer autour de son corps en grandissant, "J'ai toujours aimé aller nager..." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tout de suite. Red Wyvern réussit à nager près du sous-marin lent jusqu'à la rive, sur laquelle elle retourna à la normale et apparut près de l'arrière du groupe lorsqu'ils entrèrent dans l'entrepôt. Sa combinaison avait été déchiquetée sous les genoux et au-dessus de la taille par sa transformation, elle avait perdu ses chaussures et le haut de réservoir étiré qu'elle avait sur le dessous était un peu saigné, mais elle avait l'air en bonne santé autrement. Elle écoutait le majordome dans son stoïcisme habituel, levant un sourcil lorsqu'il mentionnait les nanomachines tueuses. Elle n'était pas surprise de savoir pourquoi ils étaient là, puisqu'il serait stupide de faire confiance à un groupe de criminels pour rester et jouer gentil, mais elle était curieuse de savoir ce que M. Sinister avait en tête pour son tueur-switch. Une dose super concentrée d'anti-mutagène, peut-être? De toute façon, Claudia n'était pas assez curieuse pour jeter quelqu'un à travers la pièce pour le découvrir. Lorsque le majordome a terminé son petit discours et s'est rapidement évanoui, Claudia a pris l'épaule devant le groupe et s'est dirigée tout droit vers les couchettes, où elle a trouvé une pile de vêtements assis sur son lit. Elle a rapidement changé de vêtements sanglants et déchiquetés en une paire fraîche de jeans lâches et un haut de réservoir gris, puis a pris un moment pour tremper sa tête dans un évier voisin. Véritable dans sa nouvelle liberté, elle se souvient avec une angoisse de solitude et de culpabilité que Red Wyvern n'a pas échappé aux côtés de White Wraith. Peu importe, elle a raisonné avec elle-même. Une fois que M. Sinister était satisfait et que sa dette était remplie, elle la retrouverait, et ensemble... elle ne savait pas ce qu'elle ferait une fois qu'elle aurait retrouvé Kimi, mais elle le saurait une fois qu'elle l'aurait revue. Le monde était un endroit confus, mais quand ils étaient enveloppés dans les bras les uns des autres, les choses semblaient avoir un sens dans le monde. Un bruit de grognement a choqué Claudia de sa nostalgie. Elle a brièvement cherché la source avant de se rendre compte que c'était son propre estomac. Elle avait oublié combien d'énergie Big Red brûlait, et se dirigeait vers le salon pieds nus pour obtenir quelque chose à manger. Passant les autres sans commentaire, bien qu'elle ait tourné un regard étrange sur la femme mangeant deux tranches de pain, elle a chargé son assiette de toute la viande qu'elle pouvait trouver et a saisi une bouteille de coke avant de s'asseoir à une table quelque peu près du caractère sans chemise de karaté. Elle a ouvert la bouteille et a pris une perruque saine avant de commencer à louper sa nourriture. Ça avait le goût de la liberté, elle a décidé. Délicieux, une liberté gazeuse.

Name: Claudia Sokolov Alias: Red Wyvern Age: 22 Gender: Female Species: Human (Genetically altered) Appearance: When fully human (ignore the costume), Claudia stands about five feet and two inches tall, with a skinny yet athletic body. She has bright green eyes and short red hair, with smooth tanned skin and perfectly average features. When in her dragon form (somewhat resembling a female version of this), she stands a hair under nine feet tall with a very muscular form. Her skin morphs into deep red scales, claws grow on her hands and feet, and her head morphs into a more draconian form. Personality: Claudia lacks empathy for anyone besides herself and her close friends, and she doesn't do anything that won't benefit those two groups. She normally comes across as cold and emotionless, but is prone to violent, emotional outbursts, especially when in her "dragon form", and she can easily tell when someone is attempting to manipulate her. She also doesn't recognize the concept of good and evil, and will steal, betray, and kill without the slightest hint of guilt or regret. While some would call Claudia pure evil, she does show genuine compassion towards those she considers friends, and while she would never admit it publicly, she would go to hell and back for any one of them. History: It was 1992, and Dr. Calvin Sobek, secretly the reptile-obsessed biochemist and supervillain Alligator Rex, had a big problem. In his war against his greatest enemy, the Cobalt Chevalier, he had subjected himself to numerous mutagenic substances and compounds which slowly wreaked havoc on his body, and after one particularly bad onset of illness, Sobek ran a test and confirmed that he would be dead in a little over a year. He was perfectly aware of the risks involved and had even planned one last, catastrophic scheme to be carried out before his death, but his body had begun to fall apart ten years too soon for such a scheme to be carried out. Dr. Sobek wasn't going to let a little thing like untimely death ruin his legacy, though, and had prepared a backup plan for just such an occasion. If he couldn't go out with a bang, he needed a successor, but a henchman would never do, and he had neither the inclination nor the time to produce an offspring. No, he would have to create an heir himself. Dr. Sobek's final creation was two twin, female embryos, which he nicknamed Helen and Clytemnestra, cloned from his own DNA and spiked with small samples of his mutagenic formula, which would make them physically stronger then any average human and hopefully give them resistances to the DNA breakdown that was killing him. He was just putting the final touches on Helen's genetics when the Cobalt Chevalier burst into the room, flanked by legions of police officers. A firefight soon broke out between Sobek's minions and the police, and the doctor, crippled and close to death at this point, was dragged deeper into the lab by one of his henchmen, a poor Russian-borne thug, as chaos broke out. Believing Helen was lost, Sobek crawled to the incubator where Clytemnestra, now resembling a newborn was stored, and ordered the loyal henchman to escape with what remained of his legacy, but not before injecting the newborn with a massive dose of his mutagenic formula. He was later found dead and abandoned in the incubator room, a wicked smile still visible on his face. The Chevalier, thinking that "Helen" was the only child created by Sobek, decided to take the newborn in, and that girl would later become his sidekick, the Rouge Ranger. The henchman, meanwhile, dropped off the "newborn" Clytemnestra at an orphanage in Chinatown, spinning a tall tale of child abuse and abandonment that convinced the matron of the orphanage to accept the child without asking too many questions. She only asked for a name, and the man gave her the name of his recently deceased sister, Claudia Sokolov, after which the henchmen ditched his colors and hopped on the first boat to Vladivostok the following day. Claudia's childhood at the orphanage wasn't a happy one, and while she often went hungry she at least had a roof over her head. In order to stave off hunger, she fell into the employ of local gangs, running packages of dubious legality for them making just enough money to avoid starving. It was here that she met her best friend, an orphaned Japanese girl her own age named Kimi, who rarely ever spoke to anyone. The pair of them kept working as gangland couriers until Claudia turned thirteen, and something inevitably went wrong. Claudia and Kimi of them were working together on a large delivery, and when some local thugs saw what they were carrying, they decided that they wanted some for themselves and attacked the two of them. At the sight of her best friend being attacked, something inside Claudia snapped and Sobek's mutagen activated, mutating Claudia into a hulking, reptilian creature, able to send one of the thugs flying with a single punch and convincing the rest to retreat. Claudia was terrified and confused by what had happened to her, and tried to look to Kimi for solace. Smiling, the Japanese girl took a deep breath, then seemingly turned into a cloud of white smoke, passed through a solid wall and back out again, then materialized once more in front of her. Claudia was so stunned by the dual revelation that she and her best friend had superpowers that she didn't notice the man in the red military jacket making a phone call to his boss about "two potential recruits". WGUF-What Got You Famous: That boss was the enigmatic and mysterious Zhurong, a Rogue with the mysterious ability to cheat death through extraordinary luck and the leader of Phoenix, a criminal enterprise built like a paramilitary force and staffed with war veterans and immigrants from Russia and China with military backgrounds. Intrigued by their abilities, he personally offered the pair of superhuman teenagers a position in his establishment, with a substantial payment for their services. Claudia and Kimi readily accepted his offer, eager for the opportunity to hone their powers, and the pair of them became "agents" of Phoenix. Claudia's time in Phoenix was some of the best years in her life, and Claudia and Kimi's successes attracted more Rogues to the organization, making Phoenix one of the most powerful and dangerous organizations in the city. Claudia and Kimi became very wealthy and respected from their work in the organization, being called Red Wyvern and White Wraith by the media, respectively, and after Kimi broke her usual silence by confessing her love to Claudia, the two became romantically involved as well. The good times were never meant to last, though, and soon Phoenix found itself in a war with a new enemy; ARGO. Surprisingly the criminal enterprise managed to hold its ground for some time, thanks to the brilliant leadership of Zhurong and the competency of agents like Claudia and Kimi, but when Zhurong was assassinated by his second in command, Smoking Mirror, the entire organization collapsed. Claudia and Kimi were captured by ARGO and sent to the Illwood Correctional Facility. To keep her contained, Claudia was fitted with an apparatus that regularly injected her with an anti-mutagenic compound, which prevented her from transforming into her stronger form. The injections also caused intense pain, and the ICF staff weren't always diligent with the morphine injections, but Claudia was able to persevere with the help of her lover, Kimi. One month later, agents from ARGO appeared to drag Kimi from her cell for interrogation. Claudia demanded to know what had happened to her, and when she assaulted a guard who said that she wasn't coming back, Claudia was thrown into solitary confinement for a month, without painkillers, and when she was returned to her cell, a new prisoner was in Kimi's place. Filled with rage and sorrow, Claudia swore that if she ever escaped from this place, she would bring down the bastards that sent her here and stop at nothing until she figured out what happened to Kimi. Equipment: Nothing much besides an over-sized black tank-top and a similarly large, black pair of shorts, for her "dragon form". Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Claudia has the ability to mutate into a massive, reptilian creature at will. When in this form, her strength and durability are increased tremendously, allowing her to punch holes in steel doors, stop trucks with a shoulder check, shrug off gunfire, and tank explosions with little damage to herself. Her leg muscles also allow her to jump higher and run faster when in this form, and her healing speed is heightened as well. Outside of her superpowers, she knows how to use military-grade firearms and explosives, and she's pretty good at moving around unnoticed. She's also very convincing liar, and she knows how to see through a well-crafted lie herself. Weakness: The anti-mutagenic agent known as K-926 is a chemical compound that can combat her dragon form mutation. When inhaled or injected intravenously, the compound forces her mutagenic transformation to recede to her human form, and causes intense pain in the process, making it extremely effective against her. Inhalation is effective for a moment or two, and an injection will prevent her from transforming for anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour. She's also just as vulnerable as a regular human when she isn't transformed, and can be killed or knocked out like anyone else if she doesn't transform back to her more durable mutated form in time. Secret Hideout: Claudia knows of at least one underground bunker controlled by Phoenix located under an old parking garage in the Projects. Other then that Claudia has nowhere that she could call a home. Relationships: Her only lasting relationship is with White Wraith, her girlfriend and a fellow Rogue who vanished when in the custody of ARGO.

Nihil n'a pas réagi à Claudia, la nouvelle venue qu'elle n'avait pas comptée parmi leur premier groupe d'évasion, mais reconnue dans son dossier. Elle n'a pas tenu compte de son étrange éblouissement, au lieu de cela, Nihil a regardé avec pensivité à Riley alors qu'elle dansait autour d'essayer de la remercier. Nihil a glissé sur la fille aux cheveux courts pendant plusieurs secondes avant de se lever de son siège, marchant vers Riley. Pendant un moment, il semblait que Nihil ne faisait que marcher devant elle, mais elle s'arrêta, debout à l'épaule avec elle, faisant face à la direction opposée comme elle. Nihil a levé la main, la plaçant sur l'épaule de Riley avec une poignée ferme, en déplaçant sa tête vers la sienne jusqu'à ce que sa bouche soit à son oreille. Nihil lui chuchota lentement : « Qu'est-ce que tu veux de moi, Riley Pielwood? Tu veux être amie? Ce serait un instinct très... humain. Permettez-moi de vous le dire: Je ne suis pas un humain, et je ne suis pas comme vous. Je l'ai peut-être été à un moment donné, mais cela a changé pour moi. Je vais vous laisser entrer sur un petit secret, puisque vous semblez si intéressé: Je ne ressens pas d'émotion comme vous le faites. Eh bien, ce n'est pas tout à fait exact, je ressens une chose : le mépris. Je me sens méprisé pour tous ceux qui m'entourent et pour tout ce qui se passe dans ce monde. Alors, voyez-vous maintenant que parler avec moi est une entreprise inutile? Je n'ai pas besoin de votre amitié, ni de votre gratitude, je ne gagne rien de l'autre, donc ce serait mieux pour nous deux si vous abandonniez cette farce. » Sa voix est restée plate et passive tout le temps. Nihil espérait que l'affichage par-dessus serait suffisant pour effrayer Riley. Elle a relâché la fille et s'est installée à la sortie de la pièce. Elle avait perdu l'appétit.

Emma Summers | Nihil Age: 29 Gender: Female Species: Human History: In the year 1986 a new kind of weapon was bred in the wind-swept desert of Afghanistan. The pressure of the Cold War has been on a steady rise, and it soon exploded in conflict. The Russian invasion of Afghanistan created a new warzone for the US to fight a proxy war against communism. Naturally they sided against Russia, supporting the Afghani Mujahideen. This war served as the backdrop of a highly illegal and highly unethical experiment conducted in the dark depths of the US Military-Industrial Complex by a secret group of researchers, unknown to all but a very select number of US Government officials. The question was simple: How does one create the perfect soldier? The first solution was technological: A serum that greatly increased the physical capabilities of a solider, additionally bestowing them with a number of 'super powers' that would aid them in their job. The second was much darker. In science there is an experiment that is considered taboo. Dubbed "The Forbidden Experiment". What would happen to someone if they were deprived of exposure to language of any sort? The researchers designed an evocative experiment: A child deprived of human contact. Taught by machines. Gradually exposed to the world through video and picture. Kept in peak physical condition. Raised by technology to be a soldier that had no regard for human life or their own life, instilled with unflinching obedience. Combined with their newly invented 'super-serum' this child was to be the ultimate soldier. The child had no name, but the researchers gave her a nickname: Nihil. A Latin word best described as meaning 'the absence of anything'. Nothingness. It was at the age of twelve that Nihil was given her first mission. The Soviet–Afghan War was already over, but the Cold War was still on and researchers were eager to see the fruits of their labor. An operation was called by the general who was privy to the details of the experiment, buried in layers of deniability. The mission was simple: Capture a Soviet outpost. It was a task for a group of highly trained soldiers. Instead a little girl was sent in. The mission, needless to say, was a success. Nihil proved to be highly capable in combat, and it seemed that all the programming and experimenting had indeed created the perfect soldier. As time went on the US's 'secret soldier' went on more missions, always proving successful against the most unlikely of odds. Every time it was the same: She'd receive her orders, be dropped into the hot zone, carry out her mission, exfiltrate, and then return to isolation, or to the training room connected to her cell, but she still always never saw a single person. The only times she had human contact was through the scope of a rifle. The only voices she heard where the screams of her targets. But something had to give, the shroud of isolation couldn't be kept forever. There was one variable that the researcher's couldn't control: Themselves. They weren't bad people... or maybe they were, but they felt remorse. Some of them were unable to handle the kind of research they were doing. Some were entirely uncaring, seeing Nihil as nothing more than a subject. But almost all of them were quelled by their paycheck. Almost. One of them faced the ultimate struggle: Love. One of the researchers who spent countless hours observing Nihil came to feel a strange paternal affection for the girl who he had twisted into a soldier. It happened slowly, but it happened nonetheless. One day Nihil was sitting in her cell, as she always had, when something unexpected came through the slit in the door that had always delivered only food: A flower, and a note. The clean, white, sterile, surgical cell, devoid of anything but the basic necessities of life and a computer screen through which she had been educated had suddenly been invaded by a small speck of color. The facility rose in a panic. Their carefully controlled experiment had suddenly been thrown askew. The never anticipated one of their own going so far in mutiny. Nihil picked up the note, felt the paper. The words which she had only ever seen etched into a computer screen. Researchers scrambled. She couldn't read it, they couldn't let her. It would likely destroy their work. As the mutinous researcher had been carried away, the door to Nihil's cell opened and for the first time she had seen a face on the other side of it. A stern face, a human face, reaching for the note. Suddenly her world had been thrown into question. Thoughts that never came to her, question that she had never come to ask. Who was she? Who were they? What are they? Who are the people she killed? Why did she exist? Something snapped inside her. She understood that they did something wrong to her, the note made it clear. The girl easily overpowered the researcher, slamming his face against the wall and leaving a bloody smear. Their experiment was over. How could it succeed? No one can stem the very basis of human nature. They had reached too far. The girl they bred for war, of course, had no problem escaping from their confines after that. What was once a sterile research lab was sullied by blood. No one in the research staff, not one of the guards, nor one of the numerous other unholy experiments, not one of the janitors, or the maintenance workers, or the soldiers lived. They had created a monster. An unfeeling monster that wanted nothing more than to feel. As she emerged from the depths of the facility she emerged into a unknown environment. She had only ever known desert and mountains and the lab. This place was different. The mountains reached taller, scraping against the sky above. The ground was not sand, but concrete. Around her stood none of the 'Soviets' she had been taught were the enemy. Instead she was surrounded by people. Unfamiliar people. Numerous people, countless people. They stared at her: A teenage girl soaked in blood, carrying a rifle, clothing tattered. One of them called the police. Nihil was already gone, running away into a world she knew very little about. Soon after that she found herself taken back into the fold of the US Military. Escaping wouldn't be that easy. It had been something they had prepared for. They could track her, of course. But things were different as she returned. She came to learn the name of the general in charge of the experiment: Brook. General Dalton Brook. He, like many of the researchers, came to see that the experiment was a mistake, so he extended an offer to reintegrate her into society with support from to government. The price was simple: Nihil's secrecy. No one would know where she came from. She wanted to know what life was like outside of confinement. She agreed. She was soon re-educated, placed into an apartment, taught how to live like a 'normal' person. They gave her money. They gave her freedom. They gave her a name, Emma. They even let her join the VA. She was technically still a veteran, after all. But it wasn't enough for her. How could it be? She soon came to recognize what they took from her. What she could never get back. She was still a warrior, no matter what they did. She still couldn't feel like any other person. She still couldn't know what it was like to really be normal. So she disappeared, again. This time she made sure they couldn't follow. She used her powers to escape, again, and never looked back. She also promised herself one thing: She would exact revenge upon General Dalton Brook. After that she slipped into the criminal underworld. By day she kept on her mask: The mask of a normal person, pretending to feel the emotions she could never feel. By night she was a rouge. Her powers made her a natural fit. She still only knew how to be a soldier. Assassination was her trade. She still felt nothing when she took a life. She felt no remorse. She wanted to hurt the people who hurt her and the people who didn't hurt her. She wouldn't be satisfied until everyone bled. But one thing still kept her sane. One thing kept her from being a psychopath: The memory of the flower and the note she had received from the one person who had loved her. The note she still kept with her. The note no one else would ever see. Part of her wanted to hurt, but part of her wanted to feel. Part of her wanted to discover the emotions she never knew. As the years went on she felt her life become meaningless. She only lived to live. The feeling still wasn't there. She came to realize he joy that she once thought she felt when she killed was false, engineered by the researchers. She still wanted to kill Dalton Brook, but it seemed unattainable. He was half a world away. She felt trapped. And then one day during her 'late night activities' she was caught by a hero. Captain Power. She could've escaped. It would've been easy with her powers. But she gave up. She let herself get caught. He was confused, but took her in. And that was it. She was sent to prison, buried behind layers of security designed to prevent her escape. She couldn't be stopped. Ironically her powers made escape quite easy for her. But she didn't care. It was just like old times. "I can leave whenever I want." Personality: Nihil is devoid of emotion. She strives for it, but it's always out of reach. She's only felt emotion twice: Hatred for the people who authorized the experiments conducted on her, and a small moment of happiness hen she read a letter penned by the only person who has loved her. She is almost entirely apathetic towards existence, only driven by her goal to kill General Dalton Brook. She has no friends, has never tried to make any friends, and is seemingly unable to make friends. How can someone with no emotion have friends? She's entirely confident in her abilities, convinced that nothing can stop her, no matter how incorrect that might be. She rarely speaks, and isn't very easy to work with, instead preferring to operate solo. Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Nihil's principal talent is mastery with almost all forms of weaponry. She is a highly skilled marksman, able to use a sniper rifle to make shots that no normal human can make. She has a supreme reaction time and can slow her breathing to the point where it is almost impossible to discern if she is actually alive. Her senses are also highly heightened, furthering her skill as a marksman. Her skill with guns is so great that she can shoot the individual blades of a helicopter while they are in motion. She has been trained in the art of 'gun-kata', a form of martial arts that integrates hand to hand techniques with gunplay and the statistical study of a gunfight, allowing her to very accurately predict and then react to the patterns that her enemies will use, making her a very deadly foe against groups of enemies. She is of course, by extension, highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. The serum given to her also has imbued her with more 'super-human' abilities. She is more durable than an average person, able to survive a number of gunshots or a long fall, has strength comparable to a man twice her size. One of her principal abilities is they power to move at speeds that are almost imperceptible, appearing as little more than a blur. Additionally she can jump much higher than the average human, around the height of 20 feet. This allows her supreme mobility, letting dart quickly across the battlefield in a blink of an eye. Weakness: Nihil's first weakness is her highly heightened senses. Although this at first seems to strictly be an advantage she is prone to sensory overload, extreme smells or loud sounds can have highly adverse effects on her. Additionally it is worth nothing that although she is more durable than the average human, unlike many super humans she is still very susceptible to gunshots or other physical damage. She might be durable, but she is very far from invulnerable. Finally the super-serum has had some adverse effects on her. She is prone to intense migraines, which in the past has not served her well in battle. The serum may have more negatory side-effects that remain unseen. Secret Hideout: Nihil has no secret hideout, only a shitty apartment, Relationships: The only feeling Nihil has for any person is the hate she feels for the General.

Riley a pris la lueur de Nihil pour une réponse, et était prêt à l'effacer. Elle aurait pu réagir le pire. Il y avait un gars qui avait essayé de battre Riley tout en tâtant pour son arme de retour dans la journée à cause de quelque chose que Riley avait dit. Elle ne se rappelait pas tout à fait maintenant, mais elle devinait - en passant par la façon dont son visage avait contorsé dans la rage aveugle - que c'était une insinuation plaisante à son éventuel manque de dotation. La plupart des gens qui n'avaient pas été dans le même cercle Riley avait l'habitude de courir avec n'avait pas semblé être en mesure de l'estomac, ce qui a rendu plus facile de les frotter quand le temps et l'affectation avec leur nom sur la liste de succès est venu à l'esprit. Mais au lieu de cela, Nihil s'approcha de Riley en allant à la porte, et prit son épaule dans une poignée, renversant des mots dans la coquille de son oreille. Riley s'est tendue, sentant le souffle d'une autre dans son cou. La proximité était quelque chose que vous avez oublié en prison, et l'espace personnel est devenu un valeur permanente plutôt qu'un respect. Riley a écouté, et quand Nihil est parti, Riley a glissé hors de la chaise. Elle n'avait pas abusé de substances avant, mais elle avait une addiction absolue aux défis. C'est pourquoi elle a prospéré dans le gang qui a posé sa tâche après la tâche, pourquoi une partie d'elle est morte de l'ennui paralysant tout en se couchant dans cette cellule. Mais elle ne s'ennuyait certainement pas maintenant, et Dieu l'aide quand son intérêt a été piquée. Riley a suivi Nihil, et a glissé doucement entre elle et la porte. "Allez-vous poser une question et ne pas entendre la réponse?" Elle a demandé, un sourcil a cambré tandis qu'un sourire impertinent jouait sur ses lèvres. Elle a gardé sa voix silencieuse, les mots pour que Nihil entende. "Tu sens le mépris, je m'ennuie." Elle a repensé, un regard réfléchi passant par-dessus son visage. -- Eh bien, soit ça, soit je ris. Et elle a craqué un sourire avant que ça tombe aussi. Expression après expression comme un diaporama rapide sans transitions. Quant à la gratitude, Riley a levé ses paumes comme en défense, vous pouvez l'oublier. Je sais que j'espère. Mais le fait est qu'il n'y a pas de raison. "Nous sommes tous coincés ici, Rogue et Rogue. Ouais, parie que tu n'es pas trop ravi à ce sujet, mais moi non plus. Alors pour te répondre, Nihil, nah, je ne cherche pas l'amitié - c'est une chose bizarre, limite la taille de ta piscine de proie - juste une petite berline légère de temps en temps. Alors détends-toi un peu, ne te force pas à être mon ami. Je suis juste un humain qui aime rire de la même façon que certains Rogues aiment entendre les gens crier. Je suis humain." Riley a frappé l'épaule de Nihil deux fois, en pensant que ce peu de contact familier pourrait la ranger, et a renversé le coin de ses lèvres vers le haut. "Mais ce n'est pas forcément mal." Elle a fait un pas en arrière. "À tout à l'heure." Riley lui a cogné deux doigts, éclairant les bouts d'eux avec le feu comme elle l'a fait, avant qu'elle ne saute facilement la porte. Elle a glissé l'entrée de l'entrepôt bâillant avec sa ceinture jonglant avec les couteaux qu'elle avait piliés, et a marché dans l'éblouissement lumineux du soleil, faisant cuire le sol. Il devait y avoir un mur vide sur le côté de l'entrepôt où elle pouvait voir si son but s'était encore rouillé.

Name: Riley Pielwood Alias: NA Age: 20 Gender: Female Species: Human Personality: Snarky and with a love for sharp humour, Riley wouldn’t immediately come across as psychotic to those she meets. Fun-loving and highly appreciative of a few chuckles, Riley makes careless remarks and laughs whenever she will. Though bright and energetic, she hides her claws and filed teeth behind her wide smile, tucked away until her hackles have been raised. Her laughter is bark-like and sharp, as is her bite. She likes teasing people and ribbing them in good fun, but nowhere near as much as she enjoys seeing an expression ranging from dismay to horror to panic to pain unfurl over a face, and knowing she has put it there. She enjoys herself a fair dose of chaos, might instigate it now and then, but she has found that dropping in during the second act isn’t all too bad either. She has an intense weakness for challenges too, and can’t stand being bored, especially if mundane people let her down and fail to fulfill her amusement quota. Sarcasm and sardonicism keep her entertained during lull periods. She doesn’t particularly need to see blood to be satisfied – hasn’t got much of an appetite for it, to be frank – but she will draw it to prove a point if need be. Vindictive, she can get childishly petty and vengeful when she doesn’t get her way. Needless to say, she is not the most mature, but she will do anything for her little sister Naomi. History: Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. It was a crumbling union of two unfortunate souls too prideful to separate that Riley witnessed as a toddler, loathed as an child and overlooked as an adolescent. It helped matters none when her mother got pregnant again and Riley got herself a younger sister at nine. Of course, it was left to Riley to look after the thing right after it was weaned. It took all of six months for her to get attached to little Naomi, but once she began to feel warmth uncoiling in her stomach when looking at the ankle-biter’s rosy cheeks and guileless gummy smile, she was stupidly loyal to a baby. By then, she had gotten herself into a few scuffles, though nothing serious. She would return home with bloody knuckles and bruises blooming anywhere imaginable and her baby sister would brush her chubby grasp over the tender spots on Riley’s skin like a whisper. Their parents had never been big on gentle physical touch, and Riley absolutely lived for those moments. She never lost a fight, and came home daily to coo over Naomi as the dull aches slowly pulsed into faded muscle memory. Their parents slowly spiraled further and further away, eventually becoming so detached and in need of remedy that the dining table was empty more often than not, as they spent their days languishing in numb, alcohol-induced limbos. That however didn’t bother Riley as much as how bone-dry Naomi’s bottle was getting, and when Naomi got a fever Riley was thrown into absolute panic. She considered it a miracle her sister hadn’t gotten sick earlier – the darkened flat hadn’t been feather-brushed in years, much less properly cleaned, and Riley’s cheeks were growing gaunt and hollow to keep Naomi’s plump but almost, it would seem, to no avail. Riley could see it all – the hunger, the pain – diminishing to naught as she perched owlishly by the crib, desperately clinging onto Naomi’s pudgy fist as she screamed and her face turned ruddy and her little voice choked on her own tears. The next morning in school, a boy passed a mindless comment that sent Riley rocketing off her seat. She was sick with worry, and the boy was a brainy bespectacled thing who deserved all her resentment because he came from a house that wasn’t falling apart and parents with a love as deep as their wallets. He couldn’t even fight her off with his own fists. Instead, he begged her to stop and tried to sweeten the plea with money. Riley almost scoffed, until she realised what he was offering and plucked him off the ground. He meekly handed her five dollars, but a shaking of his shoulders and a snarl in his pasty face raised the sum to a princely fifteen. With that money, Riley was able to buy milk formula for Naomi. Given another two recesses and a whole playground full of potential victims with cushy families, Riley could pay for a trip to the doctor’s. She attracted strange stares in the waiting room, as she cradled a squalling baby in knobby arms and with cheeks smudged as dark as soot, but she glared at the receptionist and nurses and patients who were all just blockades between Naomi and the doctor until they tore their eyes to the ground. Naomi got better, but Riley continued to bully the kids, until the pantry was stocked up again and Riley herself began to fill out. When she was twelve, upperclassmen who had seen her exploits during recess where the teachers couldn’t see invited her to play truant with them. She surveyed them warily at first, until they mentioned money. By the time Riley was thirteen, she had become a bully outside of the playground, and ran around with a gang of youths who were all older than her but headed in the same direction. Rogues had already started becoming an issue then, and these gangly adolescents with enough tar in their lungs to reline roads and tattoos snaking around their bodies like vices fantasised living lives of obscene wealth, play, and skullduggery. They got up to mischief on a daily basis; Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. Even if the gang was majorly made up of dim bulbs and dull tools, Riley was saving up handsomely, and they made her laugh and lightened her heart even if they lived a story set against the most grim of backgrounds. Plus, her thick-as-thieves associates in malice would have gladly jumped a bullet for Naomi, now at four a cute rascal with a smile to melt even the ringleader’s heart and enough naivety to shame Riley, and she was grateful for any protection they could offer, now that she had gotten herself involved in risky business. But she lived every day laughing and playing with her sister, running around and wreaking havoc around town with teenagers as mad and starved for the intangible as her, and it was a good life to live. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. But because the one above was too long, I added in this summarised version, because I can understand it would be a pain to read through the whole thing. Riley was born in a rough neighbourhood on the more dingy side of town, to parents who may have loved each other in a previous life but must have ceased all affections somewhere after their honeymoon and before her birth. She later had a little sister by the name of Naomi at the age of nine, who came to care intensely for. She would often get into fights in school, but always came home to Naomi and for that she was grateful. Their parents then stopped providing for them, and it worried Riley that Naomi was getting less and less fed. When Naomi got a fever Riley was worried sick, and after beating up a rich boy in school realised she could extort money from her classmates, using what she unjustly earned to buy milk formula for Naomi, pay for her health, and feed the family again. When she was twelve, she became involved with a gang of youths who were all older than her but filled to the brim in the head with fantasies of being rogues. Riley learnt from the smarter ones how to con and deceive and be wily, for the delayed gratification of whipping the carpet out from beneath the feet of the unsuspecting; the brutish ones with a relish for inflicting pain traded their more sadistic skills for Mathematics tuition; she was given a fair share of whatever profits they could loot. She stayed on because she was earning and learning, and running amok with these people lifted her spirits. But then it all went wrong when Riley turned seventeen, and had herself upgraded to an organisation which was bad news on a whole new scale. Naomi would ask why Riley didn’t go see their usual friends, and Riley would never tell her that those usual friends were absolutely paltry compared to her new ones. But her new affiliation offered so many more benefits – namely, an income, if she did her job. What Got You Famous: The same problem happened; I'm so sorry. And she did. She did do her job, got herself paid and told to rest on her laurels until something else came along and they called on her duty again. She did her job several times over, and did it well even if it would make her stomach turn. But she overcame her squeamishness quickly enough, and only pursed her lips when she did her job. But somebody else didn’t. Somebody else screwed up, and Riley was awakened one night by Naomi’s screaming, her parents’ shouting, and the door to her room being kicked down. She was seventeen. A seventeen-year-old girl caught in her bed in nothing but boxers and a singlet, eyes still bleary from sleep and squinting into the spotlight shone on her, as her little sister cried at the doorway, held back by parents who now gave their undivided attention. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly what the ARGO team had been expecting when they crashed into her house on an overnight mission to round-up members of a rogue organisation they had just dismantled, because there was a beat of absolute silence from the officers – armed with impressive weaponry and decked out in bulletproof vests and suits which all looked overdone now – before they started to order her to the ground, voices ricocheting in the cramped room. When Riley failed to comply, one of them reached forward to roughly drag her off the bed. But it had been a long time since Riley had slept, sure of her safety. Before the officer could even blink, she had dragged the serrated edge of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow into the flesh of his underarm. Howling, he let her go, falling back and failing his arm so that blood flew everywhere. Pandemonium peaked, and Pandora’s box opened in that room itself as voices exploded and rifles were whipped into the hunter’s crouch, aimed right at her heart. Another soldier tried to advance, and the hand holding the dagger twitched to right beside her ear, ready to be thrown. Caught in this stalemate, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who broke free of her parents’ hold to push against the back of an officer’s legs, desperate to get through, crying for Riley even though her entire front was splattered with another man’s blood. The officer turned sharply then, every instinct lit and every nerve strung high, and swung the barrel of his rifle down as he peered at Naomi. It was aimed right at her sister. I cannot lose her. With a flick of her wrist that was too easy – so familiar, so simple – Riley threw the dagger. It embedded itself deeply in the chink of armour that had been revealed as the soldier craned his neck downwards. In a spray of blood from the back of his neck, the soldier gave a last sputter and fell. A body was flung at her, pinning her at once against the floor. Riley landed on her back, the breath flattened out of her. She started to wrestle with the man, scratching at his face and knocking his visor askew, all the while hearing the high-pitched shrieks of Naomi. She made a claw-like shape with her hand, whipping it forth to rake her nails down the man’s face. Unexpectedly, the man yowled anew when tongues of flame licked his face. His comrades who had scrambled to save the fallen life whirled around to find Riley struggling to her feet, gazing in awe at her right hand now swallowed in fire. She looked up, to see soldiers with eyes full of intent to bring her down, and waved her arm around, a torch that roared with life as she yelled, “Stand back!” Obstinately, the team advanced, and she flung her hand at them. Fire sprung to life behind a man’s ears, and he scrambled to beat it out. But try as he might he continued to burn. New screams filled the room, and hesitantly the team began to recoil. There was a window just paces away from where Riley stood. She was just about to leap for it, when she heard Naomi – all screams now dead – whimper, “Make it stop.” It was enough to strike Riley dumb; that pause was enough for what remained of the force to bring her down and innovatively bag and handcuff her hands. But she remained limp, lifeless, beneath them, hearing on endless repeat Naomi’s plea. Once she was hauled upright to be taken away, Riley bent to Naomi’s level long enough to say goodbye, before she was heaved into an armoured truck; before she could say – hypocritically – stay out of trouble, be good; before she could hear her sister burst into tears again. Riley’s story gained renown. After all, a girl whose hand spontaneously combusts into flame is never conventional. Reporters craving a juicy story martyred her when word got out how subdued she became once she heard her little sister call out for her. The efforts to make her a saint only intensified when a journalist shallowly researched her background to hit upon the sheer depth of Riley’s care for Naomi. But it was all useless, because Riley was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, locked away somewhere by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content, and no amount of media press was ever going to get her out. Naomi worked with the organisation for a while, fully aware that it was nasty business but getting over her qualms about it for the money she and Naomi were dependent on. But then somebody made a mistake, and an ARGO team came to round up members of the rogue organisation they managed to dismantle. They kicked down their way into her room before the eyes of her parents and Naomi. They woke her up abruptly, and when one of them tried to roughly drag her off the bed, she cut him with the dagger she slept beneath her pillow. Both parties conscious that the other was dangerous, everyone became motionless, except for Naomi who pushed against the back of an officer’s legs, trying to get to Riley. The officer turned at the push, and swung his rifle in such a way that the barrel was aimed at Naomi. Afraid at once of losing her sister, Riley threw the dagger and it cut into the back of the soldier’s neck. One of the men pinned her to the floor, and while trying to fight him off, Riley’s hand burst into flame, causing him to yowl and fly back. Riley used her hand now aflame to ward them off, and set a man’s ears on fire from a distance. This gave the rest of the team cause to pause, and while Riley thought about jumping out the window as the men all burned at her feet, she heard Naomi whimper, “Make it stop.” The fight left Riley then, and she was immediately hauled away. Her story gained renown, for the sheer shock factor of Riley’s inflammatory powers, and the selling point that was her love for her sister. Riley however was labeled a rogue dangerous to society, and locked away by officials who made threats wily-nily to Naomi’s life knowing it would control Riley enough for them to poke and prod her to their hearts’ content. Equipment: Daggers. Lots and lots of daggers. She has a belt to carry rows of them like teeth, but she lost it when she was taken into custody from her home. But she has plans to fashion a new one from scratch if need be. Powers/Abilities: Knife-handling. Riley can severely injure anyone with a blade in hand, and even out of hand. Her daggers always fly in the trajectory she wants. She can control flame as well. Fire will burst to life in her palms, or fingertips, or a flammmable object at a reasonable distance - Riley enjoys being able to light candles without having to get up. She can put out a fire if she wills it, and adds in a little of her own fire as well. Her brand of flame is very difficult to put out too. Riley likes to joke that pouring milk over it helps, though the actual trick is to deprive it of oxygen. On a large-scale however that would prove problematic. She can also increase the temperature of her skin to an alarming pitch, so as to scald and give first-degree burns to anyone who tries to grab her. But she can’t sustain too high a temperature for too long; Riley has enzymes too that she doesn’t want denaturing. Weakness: Mention harm to Naomi, and if she thinks you can make good on that promise, she will suppress herself. (If not, it will only enrage her) Drenching her with water would work well to stop her from committing more arson too, I guess. Secret Hideout: Old, and rustic, the tree-house stands in the tree-tops, desolate and away from traffic. It used to be an old haunt for vagabonds and the way-less, and it's just right for Riley if she wants to be alone to think, or if she wants to kip a night. Relationships: None so far with rogues or heroes, but she loves her sister Naomi dearly. She knows a few rogues who carved some names for themselves but ever since being locked away she hasn't heard from them. She has contacts, but they're all far away in her hometown, and distant from the years apart.

Je pousse le présent vers le passé et j'ai reçu les cicatrices qu'on a toutes les deux... Il y a une semaine... Zachary Harper, un homme ébène aux yeux bleus de l'océan, regarda dans l'obscurité de la nuit avec un petit chiot blanc endormi bercé dans son bras droit et sa main gauche tenant sur une lampe de poche. Il portait un tee-shirt blanc avec Slayer dessus, avec un jean en jean noir déchiré, des vans noirs et un sweat à capuche rouge. Le son des feuilles croquantes pouvait être entendu dans ce vaste bois juste derrière le terrain de jeu dans le parc d'Allure. Le jeune homme s'était égaré du sentier de randonnée, suivant de petits points de repère de son passé. Dernièrement, il y avait eu un désir croissant en lui, en particulier cette nuit, de visiter cet endroit qu'il n'avait pas vu... depuis un moment. Halloween s'approchait rapidement, ce qui signifiait que c'était son 6e anniversaire et celui de Scarlet. Ils auraient déjà été mariés. Son image continuait de briller dans son esprit pendant qu'il était couché, essayant de dormir pour son petit matin aidant son jumeau à emménager dans le nouvel appartement de son petit ami. Il est arrivé au point où il vient de dire "fuck it" et a sorti son chiot pour une conduite tard dans la nuit de ses parents décédés minivan bleu minuit. Absent d'esprit, il se trouva près du parc qui menait à un lointain souvenir. Alors que Zac marchait plus profondément dans le bois avec un vent vif soufflant contre sa peau légère faisant de ses joues un peu rose, son esprit projeta de petites figures qu'il n'avait pas vues depuis des années. Les enfants innocents ont couru autour de lui alors qu'ils jouaient "Hide & Go Seek Tag" dans le noir. En regardant vers le haut, il a vu un jeune Julius sur une branche regardant vers le bas au petit Génie, qui suivait le costume. Arbres loin, Alver a balancé sa tête de derrière un coffre pour voir si la personne qui était 'c'était' est sortie encore. Zac regarda comme son mirage lui-même, avec des cheveux marrons vibrants plutôt que noirs, trébuchant sur les racines d'un arbre assez grand, déchirant son genou. Les larmes se sont accumulées dans ses yeux bleus profonds mais aucun bruit n'a échappé à ses lèvres. Il ne voulait pas donner sa position. S'emparant de lui-même, il a lâché pour trouver une cachette, ignorant quelqu'un pas trop loin derrière lui. Le temps était compté. Il était sûr de se faire prendre! Une main a saisi sa main et le plus jeune du groupe d'amis a été tiré dans la direction qui a conduit vers leur cabane paradisiaque. Avec le temps, les yeux flous du petit Zac se rendirent compte que Niles tenait sa main et l'emmenait à l'intérieur pour nettoyer sa blessure. Silencieusement, ils se sont dirigés vers le côté de la cabane. Se tenant contre le côté du clubhouse comme un garçon blonde fraise avec l'hétérochromie a couru hors de lui, criant passionnant, "Prêt ou pas, je viens!~", les deux garçons attendaient leur moment pour se glisser dedans. Tandis qu'ils attendaient, l'homme de 25 ans maintenant regardait sa petite lèche-cul regarder la brune avec admiration. Sa petite main serrée sur la main plus grande alors qu'ils ont glissé dans la forteresse sans être remarqués. Se cassant de son daze, Zac s'est retrouvé debout à l'intérieur de la vieille cabane... (Bon sang, c'est toujours debout) - Oui. Après s'être rappelé un peu, mais aussi quelques-uns des pires moments de son passé où ses amis d'enfance s'écroulèrent, Zac retourna au cœur de la ville où son humble demeure était The Music Loft, ou bien au-dessus. Il est ici depuis des années et il aimerait le garder comme ça. Plaçant son prince endormi sur le côté droit de son lit, l'homme s'est rendu à son bureau et a ouvert son ordinateur portable. Il était 3 heures du matin. En allant à son email, Zac a commencé à écrire un message. À: Graham, Julius <j.graham@gmail.com> Sujet : Hé mon pote! Accroche-toi Cher Jules Julius Graham, Je me demandais... comment ça va? Voudriez-vous vous retrouver bientôt? Je veux te parler de quelque chose... qui m'est venu à l'esprit, mais j'aimerais attendre jusqu'à ce qu'on soit en personne. J'aimerais vous parler en personne. Rappelle-moi quand tu peux. Merci, Zac Zachary Harper À partir de ce moment jusqu'à ce que la scène de Niles collab avec Le téléphone de Julius s'est éteint dans la nuit, brillant d'un ton fort et vibrant qui l'a tiré de son sommeil. Un peu aggravé, les yeux verts de l'homme musclé s'ouvrent et arrachent sa Galaxy S7 de la table de chevet. Sa frustration s'est évanouie dès qu'il a vu ce qui l'avait réveillé, c'était un courriel de son vieil ami Zac, et un sourire a remplacé la grimace qui avait été là avant. Zac voulait lui parler de quelque chose, mais en personne, Julius ne pouvait que deviner ce que ça signifiait. À : Harper, Zachary <Zmusixx@yahoo.com> Objet: Objet: Accrochage Hé, Zac! Pourquoi tant de formalité? Je ne suis pas ton patron à moins que tu veuilles venir travailler dans la construction... xD. Mais oui, ça a l'air génial! Je peux le faire ce week-end. On peut en parler plus quand je serai réveillé. J'ai du travail dans 3 heures. BTW Je viens de réaliser que vous utilisez toujours un compte Yahoo! LMAO. - Oui. J'ai vraiment besoin de t'avoir avec le temps, mec. ... nos cœurs sont pleins d'épines. Jeudi 27 octobre, surtout nuageux. Haut de 55°, bas de 34°. Ça ressemble à 51°. Ce soir 50% de chance de douches. Zac porte quelque chose comme ceci : Cliquez ici. Avec jeans noir déchiré et converse rouge. Julius porte quelque chose comme ceci: Cliquez ici Bonjour, Sunshine!, 1, 2, 3, 4 des gamins fous viennent frapper à votre porte alors... Laissez-les entrer, laissez-les entrer, laissez-les entrer (hey) En suivant un long chemin à la périphérie du camion rouge géant de Julius, ils se sont arrêtés dans une élégante maison à deux étages. Au moins un de leurs amis se débrouillait très bien. Alors que Jules conduisait, une boîte de Dunkin' Donuts Munchkins reposait sur les genoux de Zac ainsi qu'un sac avec des sandwichs au petit déjeuner. Ils allaient juste à la porte d'Alver nonchalantement et être comme 'Heyyyyyyyyyyy on a de la nourriture!' Ça devrait être aussi facile que ça? Respirant profondément, le jeune homme fixa sérieusement la maison pendant que la voiture s'arrêtait. Après que l'homme de muscle a mis son camion dans le parc et a éteint l'allumage, Zac est sorti et a attendu patiemment Jules pour sortir le café de la banquette arrière. La seule chose notable sur le plus jeune qui a changé était ses cheveux. À part cela, il avait encore beaucoup cette aura jeune à son sujet. Même si son style s'est allégé au fil des ans, moins noir, tu sais? Il regardait nerveusement la maison. Leurs options étaient: être bizarres et monter dans l'une des fenêtres d'Alver ou entrer par l'arrière ou... être normale et frapper à la porte. "C'est... c'est sa maison, n'est-ce pas?" Tournant la tête, le jeune homme rencontra son regard bleu avec les yeux verts de Julius. Peut-être qu'ils devraient revenir en arrière? Ça va s'avérer terrible, n'est-ce pas? Est-ce que la reconstruction des amitiés est même possible!? Julius était le plus facile à convaincre, mais le reste... l'anxiété de Zac s'intensifiait rapidement. Ses paumes sont un peu transpirées. "Uh... Je veux dire, c'est ce que le GPS a dit. On dirait qu'il a suivi mon conseil et a cherché les étoiles. Pas mal, Al. Pas mal du tout." Julius a dit à Zac, un grand sourire sur son visage. L'anticipation le tuait. Il n'avait pas vu l'albinos depuis des années. Jules a imaginé qu'il était toujours le petit garçon qu'il était il y a toutes ces années. Après que la blonde ait répondu, ils se sont tous deux approchés de la porte, Zac plus prudemment que son vieil ami. Sans plus attendre... *KNOCK KNOCK * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Le plan était que si Alver fermait la porte sur leurs visages, Jules l'arrêterait avant qu'elle ne ferme et... le reste serait découvert après ça... ce n'était pas le meilleur plan, mais c'était un plan. Avoir un plan était toujours bon même si ce n'était pas très clair et il y avait une grande chance d'improvisation. - Tu as toujours été amusante! - Nous envoyons une invitation à tout le monde dans chaque nation. Mais ne dors pas en courant. Arrête de penser et amuse-toi un peu! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * En entrant dans le DeJaBrew, l'estomac de Zac grondait comme un lion affamé. Bien sûr, ils ont mangé il y a deux heures, mais... il y avait toujours de la place pour plus. Cependant, il était bon marché et ne voulait commander aucune de ces pâtisseries trop chères. Prenant place à la table d'angle d'extrême gauche qui s'appuyait contre le mur, une table qui avait une bonne vue de l'ensemble du café, Zac a arpenté les masses pour leur ami d'enfance avec hétérochromie. C'était probablement une heure terrible pour visiter le café (heure du déjeuner), mais peut-être, peut-être... Mikaela aurait le temps de leur parler. Heureusement, depuis le lycée, Zac a construit ses contacts et liens, donc trouver Micah n'était pas si difficile. Trouver la place d'Alver était plus un défi, mais ce café était un grand hotspot comme le Loft Music. D'après ce qu'un collègue lui avait dit, aujourd'hui, c'était le quart de jour de la blonde aux fraises. L'homme aux cheveux foncés a prié à un pouvoir plus élevé que Micah n'a pas été soudainement malade. Il n'y avait pas le temps de reporter leur embuscade! Pas de monsieur! C'était aujourd'hui ou... aujourd'hui. Enlevant son sweat à capuche, ses orbes bleues continuaient à regarder les nombreux visages dans le café. De loin, il a vu une figure qui s'approchait d'eux... l'homme était trop loin pour que Zac distingue complètement ses traits, mais quelque chose lui disait de ne pas regarder ailleurs. "Oui, je peux avoir un espresso triple shot avec de la crème de fouet supplémentaire? Oh, et puis-je avoir... tous ces macarons juste là? Hm. Je ne devrais probablement pas, mais je vais le faire de toute façon : je prendrai un danish aux fraises aussi." Julius était à l'avant, en train de commander pour lui-même. Typiquement, il n'était pas un pour la délicatesse des pâtisseries du café, mais il ne pouvait vraiment pas s'en empêcher en ce moment. Ce sandwich au petit déjeuner n'avait rien fait pour son appétit. Après tout, c'était un grand gars avec un appétit encore plus grand. En ce qui concerne leur plan de jeu, eh bien... nous verrons comment ça se passe! - Jette un œil sur le passé, ne regarde pas en arrière. Tu sais qu'on va mieux, on va mieux que ça. Pendant une vingtaine de minutes, les deux hommes ont traqué un camion à ordures qu'ils croyaient fermement que Génie conduisait. Garer une rue loin, Zac s'est envolé et a précipité Julius, "Allez, avant qu'il parte! Nous devons faire en sorte que cela semble 'coïncidental'. Allons faire un jogging!" Sans attendre la réponse de la blonde, Zac est parti. Il savait qu'en quelques secondes, l'homme macho le rattraperait mais ne le surpasserait certainement pas. Depuis qu'ils étaient petits, Zac avait toujours été assez rapide pour sa taille. C'était probablement parce qu'il était un enfant hyper actif et excitable à tout une fois qu'il a passé sa barrière de chat effrayé. Après avoir traversé la rue et joggé sur le trottoir, ils se sont approchés d'un autre grand gars, comme Jules, mais qui était étonnamment court, ramasser les restes d'ordures que sa machine n'a pas ramassés. En prétendant être hors de son souffle, Zac ralentit son rythme et une expression surprise flotta sur son visage : « Pas moyen! Le génie Fulton? C'est toi?" L'homme d'esprit jeune pouvait se rappeler quand il a regardé son vieil ami, maintenant Zac avait deux pouces de plus. Il a décidé d'éviter le sujet de la hauteur... La plupart des hommes n'aimaient pas être courts. "Oh! C'est idiot de ma part. C'est Zachary Harper, vous vous souvenez de l'élémentaire? » Il a glissé un sourire à Genie, ne sachant pas qu'il avait passé le béguin avec Julius, qui se tenait juste à côté de lui. Se tenant à côté de ces deux gars, Zac s'est senti un peu brouillé, (Peut-être devrais-je lever quelques poids...) L'ajustement physique Julius limité après Zac, notant que l'enfant aurait probablement dû faire la piste. Au lieu de cela, il a choisi la route paresseuse. S'il avait poursuivi une carrière plus sportive, la blonde pensait que Zac était peut-être devenu un olympien. En venant derrière l'homme aux cheveux longs, il a repéré le visage familier de Genie. Même pas très près d'être fatigué, Jules s'est pointé vers eux et a donné une vague à l'éboueur. "Hé, Gene! Wow, tu es superbe! Ça fait longtemps qu'on ne voit pas." Julius a appelé, souriant à ses vieux amis. Comme au bon vieux temps, il tournait toujours au-dessus d'eux deux. - Je ne peux même pas gérer le club. J'adore flirter pour voir. Je ne te parle que si tu veux surfer sur mes mers. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Non, pas du tout. Totalement pas nerveux du tout. Les lumières clignotaient dans les yeux bleus de Zac alors qu'il venait de passer par la sécurité. En se promenant avec une fausse confiance, l'homme qui mourait secrètement à l'intérieur visait à aller directement au bar et à prendre un verre. Il avait besoin de quelque chose pour le relâcher. Est-ce que la scène du club était quelque chose qu'il avait l'habitude de faire? Absolument pas. Pourquoi lui a-t-il dit que c'est là que quelqu'un pourrait trouver Nil... qu'est-ce qu'il a fait? La musique s'est évanouie dans son oreille. Il n'entendait rien dire. Une main douce a saisi le sien et l'a tiré dans la piste de danse bondée, la chose suivante, il savait qu'il était dans une situation embarrassante avec peu ou pas d'espace. Des corps contre des corps. Des dames à peine habillées. Musique de saisie. L'une des filles, une dynamite aux cheveux roses, a rapproché sa tête de celle d'elle, alors qu'elle glissa dans son oreille : "Tu es si sexy!" Une autre fille, avec des serrures blondes bouclées, a poussé son amie hors du chemin et a frotté son fond contre la merde de Zac, "Pourquoi ne t'ai-je pas vu ici auparavant?! Je me souviendrais d'un mec sexy comme toi!" (Tu fais bien Zac... ne sois pas nerveux... respiration, respiration, respiration) Pourquoi ces filles étaient-elles si agressives?! Et comme si sur le signal, quelqu'un lui envoyait un sauveur son... Jumeau!C'est quoi, ça? "Désolé les dames, il est avec moi!" Les femelles qui entouraient Zac grimaçaient et donnaient à sa sœur de cheveux enflammée un regard méchant. Ils étaient trop ivres pour se rendre compte qu'ils ressemblaient beaucoup. Son jumeau a balayé son corps et lui a donné les signaux oculaires pour la suivre. Zac a fait exactement ce qu'elle a suggéré mentalement, tenant ses hanches... et dansant derrière elle, plus s'accrocher à elle comme un enfant que tout. Avant qu'il le sache, il était en sécurité au bar, en quelque sorte. "Hé Louis! Donnez à mon frère un whisky aigre, je vais prendre un Blow Job droit! Mettez-le sur mon compte~" Avec des yeux élargis, Zac regarda sa sœur comme si elle était folle, bien qu'il fût reconnaissant pour la boisson. "C'est assoiffé jeudi! Tu devrais savoir mieux, que fais-tu ici?! Tu ne viens jamais ici!" Ce club était l'une des meilleures soirées de Willow Valley et son jumeau était un invité occasionnel. "Je peux vous demander la même chose." Il l'a regardée avec aisance. Elle roulait les yeux, Gabby criait : "Ne t'en fais pas! Je fais du baby-sitting! Je peux m'occuper de mon verre et oui, Vince m'a donné la permission. Il sort avec ses garçons de toute façon." Les copines de Gabby ont fait un geste pour qu'elle vienne danser avec eux. En donnant à son frère un regard apologétique, sa jumelle s'est renvoyée, « Duty calls! Je suis content que tu sortes. Le barman lui a glissé la boisson de Zac et l'a lâché comme s'il regardait de la viande fraîche, comme un prédateur qui attendait un en-cas : « Qu'est-ce qui vous amène ici? Tu es magnifique, au fait." Louis flirtait avec lui? En ramassant son whisky aigre, Zac l'a abattu par pure nervosité, "Tu n'es pas si mal toi-même. Je cherche quelqu'un..." Zac regarda le chaos et sentit que cette recherche serait une cause perdue. Cet endroit était une maison de fous. "Dis juste le nom, je pourrais savoir qui tu cherches. Bien sûr, selon la personne, il pourrait y avoir un prix ~" Swiftly, Zac tourna la tête et regarda l'homme blond cendré. Il était désespéré... et peut-être qu'il y avait un profond désir de voir... Zac a crié le nom de son vieil ami, essayant de parler de la musique, "NILS BLAKE!" Le barman a simplement souri... sans rien dire en réponse.

- snipped - roleplay closed -

Tu ne peux même pas sourire sans essayer, n'est-ce pas? Ne t'inquiète pas, les monstres n'en ont pas besoin. Un frisson a traversé sa psyché alors qu'il se réveillait, mais Micah ne semblait pas bouger. Paralysie du sommeil, voilà ce que c'était. C'était juste un rêve... Si seulement c'était ce que c'était. Memories glissa à l'avant de son esprit de son cauchemar, en envoyant des poignards à travers son cœur. C'est Luke... Il s'était encore endormi près de son lit. Il était couché sur son côté sur le sol avec la petite couette de Luke glissé sur lui. Son gentil petit garçon n'avait pas à voir ça. Mikaela pourrait bouger à nouveau. Il s'est serré droit et a glissé une main sur son front. Combien de fois cela s'est-il produit ces derniers mois? A ce rythme, il pourrait avoir besoin d'une sorte de médicament... Micah avait juste besoin de se calmer. Il s'est glissé les genoux et a planté son visage dans le doudou de Luke, le tissu bleu parsemé de dinosaures. "Pa-pa, si tu ne te lèves pas maintenant je ne vais pas t'embrasser pour le reste de la journée!" "Je suis debout, je suis debout!" Mikaela a rassuré Luke, jetant le consolateur de lui et l'enveloppant autour des épaules de son adorable fils. "Ah, je ne pense pas pouvoir survivre sans les câlins de Luke pendant toute une journée!" Avec une touche au nez de Luke, Mikaela s'est finalement levée et a regardé l'époque. "Eheheheh, je vais me faire crier dessus, allons-y Luke!" - Oui. Le son est venu de l'arrière quelques minutes après que les deux hommes ont marché à l'intérieur. Il y a eu un accident! Et un son de bong qui semblait provenir de quelque chose qui rebondissait sur la benne dehors. Tout le monde savait ensuite que la porte à l'arrière du petit café s'ouvrait et qu'un petit garçon aux cheveux blonds en platine et un Mikaela... plutôt effréné. Ses cheveux se collaient dans certains endroits, ce qui devait être un exploit vu qu'il était si droit normalement (quel genre d'habitudes de dormir a-t-il eu). Heureusement, Luke s'était souvenu que son père avait mis ses contacts dans, le directeur de DeJa Brew a glissé les habitués s'excusant alors qu'il se dirigeait vers le dos. Personne ne savait encore pourquoi le petit garçon était là. En vérité, l'école de Luke avait tenu des conférences pour qu'il ait quelques jours de congé, il n'y avait aucun moyen que le garçon saute. Luke s'étendit et regarda autour, regardant les clients pour distinguer les habitués et les nouveaux arrivants. Les déjeuners étaient toujours considérablement précipités, c'est pourquoi il avait tant piraté Micah pour avoir fait une sieste. Sachant que Luke resterait à la maison toute la journée, il avait essayé d'obtenir son quart de travail en vain, qui étant dit qu'il a pris un quart dans les petites heures du matin, puis a eu une pause juste avant midi. Luke l'avait trouvé endormi, agenouillé contre son lit quand il s'est réveillé. Oh! C'est pas vrai! Il y avait quelqu'un dans le coin. Leurs cheveux ébènes étaient longs et semblaient vraiment soyeux. Luke a glissé deux biscuits au chocolat que Micah avait faits et s'est dirigé vers lui... ou est-ce qu'ils l'étaient? "Bonjour! Je ne t'ai jamais vu dans le magasin. Tes cheveux sont vraiment jolis, euh..." Le jeune garçon rougi comme sa main tenait sa prime, "Cookie?" Maintenant Mikaela était en retard, heureusement, il avait encore porté ses vêtements depuis son service antérieur. Il s'est déplacé dans l'arrière-salle et a glissé son tablier rouge, avant de jeter un oeil au nouveau café que les camions avaient apporté ce matin-là. Certains de ses collègues bavardaient au comptoir dans des tonalités houssées, "Avez-vous vu ce type au comptoir! Je ne l'ai jamais vu auparavant... devrais-je être si audacieux que de mettre mon numéro sur sa tasse?" Quelqu'un de nouveau? Micah ne pensait pas vraiment que quelque chose était hors de l'ordinaire alors qu'il faisait un pas de l'arrière-salle, en voyant Julius. Son expression choquante s'est accompagnée d'un petit blush. Non seulement il voyait son "petit frère", mais il était... tellement plus grand que lui.

Name Mikaela Winter Nickname Micah Birthday November 7th Age 29 Formula and Sexuality Uke II Heterosexual turned bisexual Goal Be able to support his son and give him the life he deserves. To be able to connect with his true "family" again. Family (Third person POV from his father's perspective) The Winter Family is known for being one of the most prestigious families of Willow Valley. They only had one boy they named Mikaela after the boy's great grandfather. His father never really approved of him, and did everything to kick that unpredictable imagination out of him and groom him into the successor he was meant to be. During middle school, this behavior got worse, his son was mixing up fantasy and reality. Thinking that these would be his last free years, his father let him be on his own. Once Mikaela arrived in high school, work was to be done. He had private tutors that would make him work all the hours of the night after school. He was always made to be in the top three places in school. Someone was influencing the successor, his grades were dropping drastically, he would shut himself into his room after school. He came home one day with cuts all over his face... His father immediately sent him to a boarding school. His heir would not be so weak! After two years of schooling, Mikaela pleaded with his father to let him come home, be with his mother who was having arthritis, gaining the proper social skills of an adult. Mikaela was allowed to go to a public college. There he met Emily, his forbidden love. His father tried to reason with his successor, the vixen was praying on his weak son. Finally, his father threw him out, disowning him. Once his wife was out of the picture. Mikaela's father did reach out a hand to his dreadful son, saying he would forget the past and adopt Luke, but Mikaela refused. Marriage/Love During college, Mikaela met a girl named Emily that was his only hope in the world. His angel was just a normal college girl that could never be accepted by his parents. Mikaela was disowned from the family, but he didn't care. Mikaela was married for a short period of three years from when he was 22 to 26, but his wife died 3 years ago. Emily had been suffering from a hereditary heart disease since she was young and passed away with no other family. He had one baby boy named Luke. Mikaela never did have any other relationship besides his marriage. There was a time in middle school... But that never did go anywhere. His son was born with lighter lavender eyes that came from his father and blonde hair. Luke has a habit of milking his cuteness, but always ends up taking care of his papa. Luke is exceptional at cleaning and housework, more of the time taking care of his dad than the other way around. Occupation During the daytime he works as the manager for a small bar/coffee shop. At night he works as a waiter at his friend's high-class restaurant "Tonnelli's Italian Cuisine Restaurant." His sweet old lady neighbor Jocelyn takes care of his son while he's out at night. At his coffee shop job he wears contacts that make his eye color blue. He leaves them off for his waiter job in order to get extra tips. Sometimes he would make up some inventions he would use around the shop. He was a decent gadget handy man as well. Appearance At the height of 5'4" he's a bit on the short side. He tries his best to keep the average weight of 125, but his weight is always lowering due to his high metabolism. The thing that stands out most about his appearance is his two different colored eyes. His right eye is a mint green, while his left is a deep lavender. he also has a burn scar on his left leg when he saved Luke from dropping a pot of boiling water on his head. He has strawberry blonde hair that is sickeningly straight and he usually leaves it to its own devices. Style: Not really being the fashionable type, Mikaela usually wore whatever his father ordered him to wear. All of his fantasies were kept in his head. He always had the baby face of his. Some people wondered if he ever did go through puberty in the first place, it seemed like he only grew taller and that was it. His voice changed seemed to be gradual and no one could really notice when it came to his normal voice now. Middleschool Clique "The one everyone leaves alone." Mikaela was the kind of person that was always staring off into space and caught in a day dream. In his earlier years of middle school, he was bullied a lot. He kept it a secret from the people around him and slowly all the bullies grew tired of him. The girls at school liked him for his mysterious look, but would leave him alone when they found out he would either talk for days about what he was thinking of, or just ignore them caught in some other delusion. He was always working on some kind of trinket that no one could understand. Highschool Clique "The Freak" It wasn't until high school that he met Jonah. No one had really gotten that psychological and that cruel when they bullied him in middle school. The teenager seemed to always have this sweet happy smile on his face, appearing to others as a good friend of Mikaela's. There were quite a bunch of misunderstandings with it. He would label Micah as a freak, someone that only had the purpose to disgust people. He might grow up to have money, but he'd just become the puppet with his father pulling the strings. Jonah wrecked at his mental state more and more. Mikaela became so withdrawn from reality it messed with his health. Was that a dragon peeking from around the corner? Did the walls just start to close in? Day in and day out was a terror. It was one day when Micah was so out of touch with reality he was unresponsive to Jonah. Getting angrier and angrier, the sadistic bully carved light lines into the other's face. It stung a little, but his words as he sliced him cut far deeper. When Mikaela came home, his father shipped him off to boarding school. He gained more confidence during those years. Mikaela realized he didn't want to carry on his father's legacy. He would do everything to make his father happy... then slip out right from under him. Past Crush He had a deep crush on Genie that he could never explain. Yes, there was no way he could like another man! But... this was Genie... All the boys might have caught on to his affection, but he never did confess. When they were in middle school, Alver confessed to him. Mikaela didn't know what to do. He had been caught at one point reading something with suggested homosexual tendencies. The boy... he had been locked in the closet all night after that. He wasn't gay! That wouldn't happen... Not as long as he lived under that household. Mikaela did his best to soften the blow of his rejection, but it didn't seem to work. Current Crush --- Are you in contact with a Rose? No Personality The boy always seems to be thinking up some new kind of fantasy as a kid. Before he met his childhood friends, he would spend hours staring at the wall and dreaming up new fantasies. He is a lazy bum who can't seem to clean anything right. He was diagnosed with ADHD as a child, but when he is able to focus enough, he's able to cook well. Mikaela loves being around people who all care for each other, they help bring his fantasies to reality. He may not show it, but smiles are all he wants to give other people. He also sees the world a lot differently from other people. Each different sound has a shade of color, and there are all beautiful. He always believed that Zac's blue voice was the prettiest though. Mikaela may seem distant to you now. When he talks to people, he puts on a facade of being super happy, keeping a save emotional distance between the two of you. If he doesn't try hard enough, he usually keeps a straight face all the time, and that creeps people out. Because of his time in high school, he does his best to distance himself. Micah doesn't want people to find out about his fantasies, he doesn't want to call him strange or a freak. He has a son to take care of. Luke and his friend Hank are the only ones around him that know about his daydreaming. Since he isn't good at housework, his son picks up the slack, he's usually taking a nap at home or playing with his son. Short Bio Mikaela never seemed to be fit for the heir to the Winter family. His eyes seemed to be two different colors and he was always off in his own world. His father thought of him as weak and would force him to study all the time. Micah didn't care too much about that, since studying wasn't that bad, whenever he wasn't studying, he was off in his fantasies. In his family, no one knew his true emotions, because he was so bad at showing them on his face. But then he met his first friends, the ones he actually called his family. They all seemed to be younger than him, but they unconsciously taught him how to express himself. He would laugh and play like a normal boy, which his parents had never seen before. Mikaela's favorite place was the club house, that was the only place he would ever go to when he final felt the pressures of his family. But... Everyone left. He couldn't handle the stress of rejecting Alver, the one he thought of as his "family's" mother. Mikaela realized what he was leaving, but he just couldn't handle it. His fantasies were his only company after that. After the intense bullying from Jonah, Mikaela was shipped off to boarding school. There was no way he could leave everything he'd known just to be under his father's thumb. If he had learned anything from Jonah, it was that he was going to turn into the puppet if he didn't do anything. Mikaela convinced his parents to let him go back to college in Willow Valley. There he was able to not be the most popular, but not be the loner either. He was able to meet Hank his freshman year and start his first proper friendship in forever. Jonah didn't go to his college so he didn't have any influence there. His second year... he met Emily. His beautiful angel, the one he hoped to spend his life with. They did everything together. Micah decided to marry her the first chance he got. But his parents said no way. Mikaela was the heir, he was to have an arranged marriage and take over the family business... but he fought back full force. His father got so pissed that he disowned his own son, not caring that he wouldn't have an heir anymore. Those next few years seemed to be his happiest after his childhood memories. They didn't have much money, but they made due and had a son right away. Luke was a reincarnation of his mother... but that must have been why she died from a heart attack. Mikaela was able to bounce back out of his depression because of Luke. He was able to stay firm and not let his parents take Luke away from him. To support his son, Mikaela worked extra hours as a waiter at a rather high-class restaurant. He devoted his life completely to his son... Jonah was back. He had gone and gotten a master's degree from his college and came back just to torture Micah. He came around now and again to wreck at Mikaela's mental state. He never did really fight back against Jonah, the only times he did was when Jonah said things about Luke. Jonah... the man came by one night while Luke was at a sleepover. He was outrageously drunk and overpowered Mikaela, raping him and sprouting insults left and right. Even Jonah felt a little bit bad about that when he woke up, so he paid Mikaela a hefty amount of money to keep him quiet and half-seriously joked about them doing it again every so often.

Nil "Eh bien, ils pensent que j'ai mal joué avec les mauvaises choses; Nah, j'ai mal joué avec les bonnes choses. Ouais, j'aime bien." 11 h 10 Il y avait quelque chose dans l'atmosphère qui nausait immédiatement, et ce n'était pas l'odeur persistante de l'alcool et de la sueur ou la façon dont la chaleur du corps enveloppait la piste de danse dans un mince nuage de chaleur, comme un sauna aggravant. Niles ne savait pas vraiment ce qui a rendu ces clubs si... hors de mettre parce que c'était une collection de choses. La musique qui déchire. Le fait que certaines personnes ont pris 'Thirsty Thursday' pour signifier autre chose que boire des spéciaux au bar. Les à peine vingt et un ans qui font leur première en quatre ans de liste d'erreurs. Il n'y avait pas grand-chose à aimer pour ces boîtes de nuit... et pourtant Niles ne pouvait pas s'éloigner ; il n'était en aucun cas un visiteur nocturne... mais sa présence dans des clubs comme celui-ci n'était pas passée inaperçue par ceux qui étaient prêts à regarder un peu plus fort. Des endroits comme celui-ci, où la musique a noyé le flirt maladroit et l'alcool trop cher, n'étaient pas exactement sa scène. Bien sûr, il y avait des avantages à avoir, mais le ratio des Nils serait plus faible que le ratio des personnes ici qui seraient dans les Nils. "Mister Carter," le barman, Louis, a glissé une serviette devant les Nils alors que l'acteur brun à cheveux poussait son chemin de la piste de danse surpeuplée vers le bar lui-même. "Bouteille ou verre ce soir?" "Bouteille. Certainement." Niles a dû parler de la musique, c'était une merveille qu'il ne soit pas enroulé avec combien de fois il a dû faire quelque chose d'aussi simple que ça. C'est pourquoi les gens sont juste allés dans des bars réguliers, ils n'avaient pas à crier sur la musique agaçante ou traiter avec des gens transpirants, à moitié conscients, dont la moitié se réveillerait dans la maison d'un étranger pour une promenade oubliée de honte. Louis met une bouteille verte devant les Nils avec un sourire qui s'élargit seulement après que les Nils glissent une vingtaine sur le comptoir. La bière était cinq. Le pourboire était encore cinq. La discrétion de Louis était de dix. Louis avait fait l'erreur sur la première nuit de Niles dans cet établissement particulier de parler comme un fan, large oeil et flippant. Normalement, Niles n'a rien à faire si quelqu'un est venu lui serrer la main ou une photo rapide pour tout ce que les médias sociaux étaient leur poison, mais il y avait un temps et un endroit pour cela. Un club rempli de gens qui attendent juste d'être le prochain top story sur TMZ parce qu'ils ont un scandale avec quelqu'un à la télévision n'était pas l'endroit. Quand il est passé par ces portes, il n'y avait pas de Niles Blake. Il était Mike Carter, un nom apparemment moyen pour quelqu'un qui voulait passer le plus près possible de la moyenne. Niles, bière à la main, penchés contre le comptoir, yeux scrutant le sol, à la recherche de rien en particulier mais vigilants tout de même. 11 h 20 "Je suis désolé... je ne fais pas d'habitude quelque chose comme ça." La même ligne Niles avait entendu d'innombrables fois et il a simplement eu l'habitude de hocher la tête jusqu'à. Les deux parties savent que c'est un moyen de sauver la face, mais Niles au moins a eu le bon sens de ne pas faire marche arrière. Personne n'a jamais voulu être adulte à ce sujet, toujours prompt à inventer une excuse comme si cela ferait penser aux Niles plus ou moins d'entre eux. Il est difficile d'acheter l'histoire de toute façon, étant donné que dans la plupart des cas ce n'est jamais Niles qui a fait le premier pas. Il avait nourri sa boisson, secouant la tête à quelques-unes des danses les plus... bien... trente qui se passaient sur le sol quand un robinet sur son épaule lui a fait craquer l'attention vers sa droite. Même dans l'éclairage dim Niles pouvait voir le blush sur le visage du gars. Un enfant de l'université, sans doute, cheveux blonds non kempts, jeune visage mais pas dans le sens du bébé du mot, et les nerfs cachés derrière rires maladroits. "Je suis désolé si je vous dérange... mais je dois savoir... êtes-vous...Niles Blake? De Willow City Beat?" "Je pourrais l'être, mais qui demande?" Niles parlait en arrière, le gardant aussi décontracté et près de la poitrine qu'il le pouvait dans la situation. "C'est juste que... je suis un fan et tu lui ressembles. Et... et moi... et... Niles a réduit le ventilateur en silence en plaçant son propre index sur les lèvres du gars, le bousculant comme on le fait. Le reste était simple. Un murmure d'admission à l'identité. Encore un murmure de doux riens. Peu de temps après, c'est une retraite dans une pièce arrière, un coin sombre, ou une stalle; les lèvres se rassemblent et le bruit d'une affaire sans nom noye la basse encore battante. "Je suis désolé... je ne fais pas d'habitude quelque chose comme ça..." Pourquoi ont-ils toujours dit qu'ils étaient désolés? Comme si l'expérience était mauvaise ou qu'ils avaient blessé Niles d'une certaine façon. Cela n'a pas beaucoup d'importance de toute façon, car Niles a à peine répondu qu'il a pris un moment pour vérifier ses cheveux dans le miroir. Il a été le premier à quitter le confort de la salle de bain, pas pire pour l'usure et assez soif pour commander un autre verre. "Blake de nids!" est venu une voix assez forte pour que Niles entende. Un autre fan, peut-être, ou... Niles tourna la tête vers le bar juste à temps pour voir Louis bouger les yeux droit vers lui. Niles secouait la tête vers le barman, quel était le but de la redevance discrétionnaire s'il allait juste dire à quelqu'un au hasard... et puis les yeux de Niles traînèrent sur l'arrivée curieuse. "Qu'est-ce que tu fais là?" Les Nils criaient vers le gamin au bar. Non, pas un enfant. Plus maintenant. Mais comme il a repéré Zac Harper, tous adultes, il ne pouvait encore voir que l'ami d'enfance lacrymogène qui le regardait.

Niles Blake || 28 || Homosexual, Seme "Whispered something in your ear. It was a perverted thing to say, but I said it anyway. Made you smile and look away..." Birthday September Twenty Second Goal To see if it's true what they say...that you can't go back again...and in so doing making amends with the past, in whatever capacity that comes in. Marriage/Family/Love Life One would have to define relationships first to determine how many Niles has been in. He's been spotted at high profile events but never with his arms around anyone...though that could well be because he knows how to slip out of a crowd arm-in-arm with someone for an hour or two. His relationships, the ones that last longer than a few fun filled weeks and nights, tend to not last more than a handful of months. No pets to be had and the only remaining family he cares to consider is his younger sister, currently slaving away in art school. Occupation Star of the Small Screen; Actor noted for his role on a moderately successful police procedural. Appearance 5'10" 139 lbs He once had a tattoo but had it removed and the scar still lingers, leaving a burn mark on his left shoulder blade. His eyes are a muddy brown, but are anything but dim. The only time he's been seen with facial hair is when his role(s) demand it, otherwise he's as clean cut as one could imagine. His hair, a natural brown, wasn't always so perfectly maintained and straight, and some people remember when Niles had permanent bedhead no matter what he tried. Middleschool/Highschool Clique Niles was one of the band kids. He made first chair cello because he was the only cello player in his year. Past Crush Current Crush Are you in contact with a Rose? Possibly Not Personality Niles is a bit of a smooth talker, quick with a joke and even quicker with an expression of genuine interest. And that's him when the camera isn't running and he isn't spouting far-too-clever lines at a way-too-quick pace. Despite not quite yet being in his thirties, Niles acts as if he's that cool older relative everyone looked up to and loved having over for family events. At least, that's how he presents himself to the ever discerning public eye. Rumors surround him, from co-stars mentioning how much of a perfectionist he is, (to the point where an extra was said to have fled the set in tears after being scolded by Niles) and how he believes that he knows better than the directors or people in charge. Niles positions himself in a power position, making it clear from day one that anything he's involved in will eventually move along according to his own pacing and design. Which, on the plus side, makes him the consummate professional but then does make him hard to work with and even harder to like. And still, despite that, Niles' natural (or seemingly natural) charisma and presence has served him well in his private life. Many claim to have been picked up by Niles but given how the details of his private life (including even his sexual orientation) are just that, private, no one quite knows who is in the know. But Niles has gone on the record on a late night talk show that things are 'going well' in regards to his romantic life. He's not in the closet personally. Just professionally. Short Bio Niles Blake only ever wanted one thing growing up and it was as shallow a want as any other child's. Niles wanted to be cool. But of course, that never seemed to be a possibility. He wanted a bass. He was given cello lessons. He wanted to style his hair after the people in magazines. He came to school once with what could generously be called 'bucket hair'. To his credit, he kept a positive attitude towards his misgivings, mishaps, and overall aura as a well meaning but misinformed dweeb. It helped that he was a naturally funny person, able to shrug off the embarrassments and turn them into endearing stories to be retold and recalled at a reunion years down the line. His parents had a rather amicable divorce when he was near about half finished with high school and his little sister, Becky, was just starting. It was as simple a matter as both mother and father realizing that they didn't love each other and thought it would be better to just...see other people. Niles saw it as his responsibility to watch out for Becky, but realized it would be difficult with him going away after his own brush with what could be considered a 'divorce' of sorts and eventually onto secondary education. Still, the funny, kind of dweebish band kid was always watchful towards those who got close with his sister, which only made things tense between the siblings. Becky just wanted a fun high school life, to make mistakes and such. Niles' life relationships, mainly his familial but even his younger friendly ones, all seemed to be breaking apart which, of course, affected the young Niles. He's since patched things up with Becky (paying for her art school goes a long way) but his lack of meaningful relationships has not gone unnoticed. Rebecca Blake is currently in art school. She operates her own art blog where she takes commissions. Wants to become an animator.

G E N I E _ F U L T O N Ce n'était pas particulièrement difficile ou facile ni quelque chose de particulièrement fier d'être, mais, il a bien payé et cela lui a fait sentir la valeur de quelque chose. Conducteur de camion d'élimination des déchets. Peut-être que s'il avait fait un peu plus d'attention à l'école, qu'il avait négligé moins, et qu'il était allé à l'université, Genie Fulton aurait pu devenir quelque chose de plus intéressant. Mais avec tout le chaos qui sévit dans sa maison, son père absent, sa mère promiscueuse, Genie ne devint qu'un enfant en difficulté. Il avait été un enfant à la tête chaude à l'époque, se cassant facilement sur les autres. Ces jours-ci, cependant, Genie s'était quelque peu membré et a arrangé sa relation avec sa mère. Un petit coup de fil une fois par semaine, peut-être aussi une visite à la maison - c'était sympa. Genie s'est réveillé à exactement sept heures du matin et s'est occupé de sa routine matinale. Il était 9 h du matin, c'était l'heure du travail. Il a quitté sa maison, marchant sur le petit trottoir, puis s'est rendu à la gare routière. De l'autobus, il est allé à la ville, au grand bâtiment où tous les autres camions d'élimination étaient retenus à partir de là, il a pris un camion sur l'itinéraire. C'était assez simple, vraiment. Arrêtez-vous dans une maison, ramassez la poubelle - gardez-la jusqu'à sa pause déjeuner à 12 heures, puis travaillez encore jusqu'à 17 heures. 15 h 10 Il y avait un étrange sentiment qui dérangeait l'esprit de Genie. Comme si quelqu'un le suivait. Maintenant, dans son temps libre, Genie a souvent frappé la salle de gym et pouvait se débrouiller assez bien, mais Genie n'a tout simplement pas pu ébranler le sentiment que quelque chose de grand devait venir. Alors qu'il s'arrêtait sur son camion et qu'il s'arrêtait pour ramasser la poubelle de couleur verte, il sentait un frisson courir dans sa colonne vertébrale alors qu'une voix familière s'adressait à lui. "Oh! C'est idiot de ma part. C'est Zachary Harper, vous vous souvenez de l'élémentaire? » Oh oui. Il s'est très bien souvenu. Genie a jeté la poubelle à l'arrière du camion et l'a réglée sur l'allée. Zachary Harper avait été l'un de ses rares amis en peu de temps il avait fréquenté l'école. 'Ami' était un terme relatif. Zachary venait d'être l'un des enfants qui avaient traîné avec un groupe d'enfants comme Genie l'avait fait. Genie n'avait jamais été particulièrement proche d'aucun d'entre eux, souvent sauter l'école en faveur de jouer à l'arcade ou d'essayer de paraître 'cool' avec des enfants plus âgés que lui. Mais - il avait apprécié leur compagnie et si quoi que ce soit, Genie a failli manquer de temps avec eux, même si cela avait été beaucoup d'années depuis. Si Genie se rappelait, Zachary avait été l'un de leur petit groupe tranquille - et assez joli aussi. Genie a rappelé sa première rencontre avec Zachary - une petite pièce d'école où Zachary avait été choisi pour jouer de l'héroïne. Comme c'était stupide; Genie avait confondu Zachary comme une fille et après, en découvrant qu'il était un garçon, il l'avait taquiné sans relâche à ce sujet. C'était une plaisanterie, pensait Genie. Rien de trop dangereux. Ils se sont bien amusés. « Je me souviens, » Genie ne sourit pas à Zachary, choisissant de croiser ses bras, regardant curieusement l'autre homme. Il était habillé d'un simple costume bleu clair avec de nombreuses poches et des gants de construction sur ses mains. D'autre part, Zachary était un peu plus flashy, un peu plus élégant, et certainement mâle. Il ne pouvait s'empêcher de ressentir un peu d'irritation. S'il se rappelait bien, Zachary avait été le genre de garçon à s'asseoir et à éviter l'exercice - pourquoi était-il plus grand? "Hé, Gene! Wow, tu es superbe! Ça fait longtemps qu'on ne voit pas." Maintenant cet homme, il s'est souvenu. Julius. Un vieux béguin et aussi grand que jamais. Genie n'a pas pu s'empêcher de laisser un peu de poussière rose sur ses traits robustes. Julius avait certainement bien tonifié. Ils s'étaient souvent battus quand ils étaient plus jeunes, mais c'était peut-être simplement le courage inébranlable de Jules de se tenir à sa hauteur qui a charmé Génie. Il avait souvent poussé Jules à ses limites, essayant de voir jusqu'où Jules allait et à chaque fois, Genie était tombé plus dur pour l'homme blonde. Il pensait s'être remis de lui, mais peut-être pas. Il a senti son cœur flutter et battre un peu plus rapidement parce que cela avait été si long, et il ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de penser que Julius n'avait pas changé du tout. "Ça fait longtemps qu'on ne voit pas", a-t-il dit avec un petit sourire. S'il avait été dans son adolescence, il aurait probablement crié et fait un énorme ruckus mais Genie n'était plus le garçon agressif hostile qu'il avait été à l'époque. Il était très certainement encore rapide à craquer et tout à fait terrifiant quand il l'a fait - mais Genie avait travaillé sur son attitude de brash parce qu'il était un adulte maintenant. L'attitude brutale et les bagarres de bar le placeraient derrière les barreaux - alors qui s'occuperait de sa douce Sally? "Je descends à cinq heures demain," a-t-il regardé Zachary puis de retour à Julius, "Si vous voulez vous rencontrer. Je travaille en ce moment - " Genie a ouvert la porte du camion et a regardé en arrière sur les deux, un peu de nostalgie tourbillonnant dans sa poitrine, " - c'était bien de vous voir tous les deux." Julius connaissait son email.

Name Genie Fulton Birthday February 18 Age 27 Formula and Sexuality Seme and Homo all the way. Goal Nothing more than to keep being friends. Marriage/Family/Love Life Has had several past boyfriends but presently is not seeing anyone. He also has a cat named, Sally. Occupation Garbage man Appearance 5'6'' ~150lbs. Right ear is pierced. Piercing on his right brow-line. Tattoos on both his forearms of roses and koi fish curling around the arms but pausing right below his biceps. He often dyes his hair several colors, changing it once a month; however, his natural hair is black along with dark hazel eyes. Middleschool/Highschool Clique Loner who often got in trouble and missed school. The only reason he continued school was for his friends, the only people he is fiercely loyal to save for his family. Not many liked him for his brashly outspoken nature and tendency to snap quickly. Past Crush --- Current Crush --- Are you in contact with a Rose? None. Personality Genie is as he looks. He is cruel at times, messing around with other people but he can have his bouts of kindness. He's aggressive, fiercely competitive but when he loves someone, he really loves someone. With that one special person, Genie is like putty, completely at the will of his lover - often stumbling over his own feet to please the other person the best he could. But with others, Genie lacks a certain self control and is easily set off by even a little wrong word. Short Bio Genie is a single child whose father left at a young age. His mother, an owner of a small florist shop, is a promiscuous woman who often handles several boyfriends at a time (one reason why his father left). It was these licentious tendencies that garnered a spout of hatred for his mother in his younger ages and caused much of his rebellious tendencies. These days, however, he has come to terms with his mother after recognizing what she has sacrificed to give him a good life and has tried to turn his own life for the better by taking on a job.

Disparaître est la seule chose dont j'ai besoin. La solitude éternelle est tout ce que je mérite. 8 h 30 C'était calme. C'est normal. Bien que les oiseaux criaient toujours si doucement à l'extérieur que jonglait un homme blanc presque blanchi, hors de portée de ses dessins. Les yeux pâles de lavande clignotant lentement alors qu'il regardait ses croquis pour son prochain livre de manga, il enleva lentement ses lunettes ovales et les mit sur son bureau. Dessiner des doigts minces contre les yeux fatigués pour les soulager éveillés. C'était déjà le matin il semblait, il semblait que le temps venait de passer. Peut-être qu'il devrait l'appeler une nuit alors, puisqu'il a beaucoup travaillé. Alver avait tendance à rester éveillé la nuit et à dormir pendant la journée. Ceux qui l'ont connu l'ont souvent qualifié de vampirique à cause de cela. C'était une coutume à laquelle il s'était habitué après un certain temps. Pour éviter la lumière du soleil autant que possible. Il n'avait pas beaucoup de raison de quitter la maison depuis qu'il a rompu avec Lucas. Avant, il était encore plus rare. Surtout après la mort de père... En donnant un peu de bâillement, il s'étendit un peu avant de se lever de son bureau. Déposant son stylo, l'homme aux cheveux blancs regarda sur la collection de figurines, de livres de manga, d'affiches et de peluches avant de se diriger vers les rideaux fermés et de le retirer. Examinant l'extérieur, pour trouver une certaine satisfaction d'avoir une lumière d'immersion malgré être le matin. Il avait l'air plutôt nuageux, et pourrait pleuvoir aujourd'hui. Peut-être qu'après une sieste de trois heures, il pourrait aller se promener au parc. Pour l'instant, il devrait peut-être prendre du thé avant d'aller se coucher. Alver est sorti de la chambre et a descendu les escaliers. On pouvait entendre une douce douceur et, une fois qu'il a franchi le dernier pas au premier étage, une boule grise de fourrure s'est frottée contre ses jambes. Avec un sourire, le grand homme pâle s'est plié et a frappé ses doigts minces contre la tête affectueuse du félin. Bonjour Miko. il a accueilli le chat doucement avant de continuer à la cuisine pour faire sa tasse de thé. Il n'y avait aucun démenti que c'était un peu solitaire... mais c'est bon. Il avait au moins Miko et depuis qu'il a emménagé ici, c'était plutôt paisible. Pas de seaux pleins de peinture tombant sur sa tête, pas de voisins qui chient dans les oreilles, pas de regards à venir.. pas d'enfants bavardant et l'utilisant pour jouer au poulet, c'était plutôt bien quand il pensait à cela. 8 h 59 Après une tasse de thé et prendre un peu de temps pour se détendre, il lava sa tasse, la mit dans le lave-vaisselle avant de se coucher. D'abord sur le visage du lit, Miko a décidé de sauter sur le lit et de monter rapidement le long de son dos. Il l'a serré avant de se friser dans une balle entre ses omoplates. L'albinos a donné quelques mutters de désapprobation mais n'a pas bougé de sa position. Trop fatigué et confortable pour vraiment se soucier de son félin qui décide de l'utiliser comme un oreiller chauffé personnel. Lentement, il a enlevé ses lunettes et les a posées sur la table de nuit. Juste une petite sieste. 9 heures Une minute dans sa sieste, il entendait quelque chose dehors. Peu de temps après, sa porte a été frappée. La tête se jetant dans l'alarme, Alver a fouetté ses yeux de lavande vers la direction de sa porte d'entrée était. Cela a bien sûr amené Miko à me plaindre alors qu'elle se redressait le dos, alarmé par le mouvement soudain. La confusion a gravé son chemin sur son visage mince alors qu'il essayait de penser à qui ce mystérieux visiteur pouvait être. Lily n'avait pas prévu de réunion, n'est-ce pas? Non, il ne s'en souvenait pas. Maman était encore au travail, donc elle ne s'arrêtait pas bientôt. C'est Lucas? J'espère que non. Il n'y avait pas vraiment quelqu'un qui s'embêterait à marcher ici depuis qu'il vivait dans la partie la plus boisée de la ville. Juste pour qu'il puisse éviter les gens. Peut-être un vendeur? Peut-être. C'est pas vrai. Il ne voulait pas ouvrir cette porte. Ça voulait dire qu'il devait socialiser. C'est pas vrai. Non, ça va. C'était impoli de ne pas y répondre, alors il ferait mieux de le sucer et de s'en occuper. Sur le mur de son dos, il y avait une épée, et il faisait une prière mineure. "D'accord. Pour les urgences, Sakabato... Vérifiez. Guide-moi bien Kenshin." Il s'est moqué avant de sortir du lit. Jeter les mains sur lui-même rapidement pour aplatir ses vêtements pour avoir l'air un peu décent. Il portait une chemise soyeuse blanche, sans boutons, au milieu de sa poitrine. J'ai mis son cadre mince. Porter un pantalon en sueur beige et une paire de chaussettes blanches. Ses cheveux blancs atteignent juste passer ses omoplates, pendus lâchement et n'étaient que légèrement déshonorés. Il l'a rapidement traversé pour l'aplatir un peu. Muttering comme un brin frisqué et il aurait dû essayer de l'aplatir à nouveau rapidement. Pas exactement l'usure formelle, mais ça le ferait. Il n'avait pas prévu d'avoir des visiteurs pour longtemps. Assez longtemps pour savoir ce qu'ils voulaient puis les enlever. En sortant de sa chambre, il se dirigea vers la porte d'entrée, regardant sa tête de l'escalier avec prudence pour regarder la porte. Déplacer ses yeux vers la chauve-souris le reposé juste à côté de la porte, il a pris une profonde respiration. "Batman Bat, double chèque, j'espère que je n'aurai pas besoin de tes services, Chevalier Noir." Alver murmura avant de prendre une autre respiration profonde pour obtenir son sang-froid. Ok, tout allait bien. C'était un homme grand, intimidant et bizarre. Tout allait bien. S'il arrive quelque chose de bizarre, il peut les effrayer. Il suffit de les intimider, utilisez les fonctionnalités vampy/ghostly à l'avantage. Ils n'ont pas à savoir qu'il ne ferait pas de mal à une mouche. Non, pas du tout. Une fois qu'il a obtenu ses repères, Alver est allé à la porte, posture droite et ses yeux de lavande se rétrécissant sérieusement. En pressant les mains contre la porte, il a jeté un coup d'œil à travers le trou pour examiner son invité inattendu. Des invités, apparemment. C'était difficile pour lui de voir clairement à travers le trou, mais ça semblait être deux garçons. Un joli petit avec les cheveux noirs, l'autre assez gros et musclé avec les cheveux blonds. hésitant à ouvrir la porte, il a mordu sa lèvre inférieure dans des soupçons mineurs avant de se secouer la tête pour lever le courage et juste interagir. Alors il ouvrit la porte, lentement, avant de révéler pleinement sa grande forme pâle. Des yeux de lavande regardant ses deux visiteurs. Heureusement, son porche l'a protégé de la lumière du soleil même les jours ensoleillés, afin qu'il puisse se tenir à la porte en toute sécurité. Alver a ouvert la bouche un peu pour dire quelque chose avant de s'arrêter comme il le sentait... une sorte de familiarité. Il se branlait les yeux alors qu'il regardait bien les deux hommes plus courts, ils s'évanouissaient vite, alors que la reconnaissance lui arrivait finalement. Ce visage de bébé... cet air de joie joviale qui entourait un être géant... non, ça ne pouvait pas l'être. Comment ça? Pourquoi? Quand? Quoi? Harpy et Teddy... ou en d'autres termes Zachary Harper et Julius Graham. Alver n'était pas prêt pour cela. Pas du tout. Il n'avait pas vu ces deux-là depuis... des années. Il était sûr qu'il avait disparu de leur vie. Comment dans les bleuets ils l'ont trouvé?! Pour quoi faire?! Est-ce que maman tattle? Lily a-t-elle décidé de lui faire une blague? Quelqu'un l'a traqué chez lui?! Une fois que la reconition complète et le mouvement ont été autorisés, Alver a essayé immiédietly de claquer la porte. Malgré le sentiment qu'une partie de son cœur remplissait de joie, une grande partie était une terreur absolue. Bien que son expression soit restée vide autre que la simple surprise, son esprit essayait de se retirer. « Mission avortée Mission avortée Mission avortée! Ne pas sortir de Nopeville!" Il ne pouvait s'empêcher de penser dans son esprit. Malheureusement, il semblerait que sa tentative de fermer ses amis d'enfance se soit heurtée à un échec alors que Julius a réussi à attraper la porte. L'œil droit légèrement agité, il a pris une profonde respiration avant de croiser ses bras au-dessus de sa poitrine et a rétréci son regard en plein éblouissement. Et bien. Ça n'a pas marché. Après quelques instants de silence, Alver a finalement réussi à parler. "... vous avez cinq minutes pour partir. Ou expliquez ce que vous voulez. Ou je viderai toute l'essence de la vie de votre corps..." La voix de l'homme fantôme s'est exprimée dans une menace mineure. C'était un peu soyeux et élégant, mais aiguisé. Bien qu'en réalité il était vide. Il ne leur ferait jamais de mal. Toujours s'ils sont partis alors tout le mieux. Jouer le fantôme bizarre ou vampire a travaillé sur les enfants parfois... Il semble être ennuyé, mais pas nécessairement à ce qu'ils font actuellement. Honnêtement, Harpy chère avait probablement un plan stupide et a traîné Teddy dedans. Ce ne serait pas surprenant. Vraiment, il était plus éblouissant sur les cheveux de Zachary, alors qu'il regardait les deux. Étant donné que son mode d'évasion a été arrêté, il pourrait aussi bien vérifier ses amis et voir comment ils ont grandi. Teddy est devenu plus gros et a mis un peu de muscle, mais Harpy avait encore ce joli visage. Mais il a teint ses beaux cheveux rouges! Petit branleur! Bien sûr, Alver tenait sa langue. Il n'était pas la mère de Harpy, donc pas comme s'il pouvait se plaindre. Mais pour l'amour de tout ce qui est saint... Zachy a une si jolie nuance de cheveux rouges.

Birthday October 31st Age 26 Formula and Sexuality Versatile and Homosexual Goal To be a little more out of shell. Do what friends do. Hangout and things. Or attempt to. Marriage/Family/Love Life Has been in one relationship four years ago. But he shut himself in after the break up. Has a grey she-cat named Miko. His father, having died when Alver was fifteen, was a kind man. While his mother still lives working as a policewoman. Rarely home. Occupation Writer/Manga Artist/Artist Appearance Height: 7'0 Weight: 160 lb Other prominent traits: His skin is ghostly pale, odd lavender colored eyes that occasionally change depending on the angle with the sunlight. White hair. Often wears a pair of glasses or contacts. Despite being tall, he's pretty skinny and almost looks fragile. But he can still pull off a judo move or two. Middleschool/Highschool Clique He's the nerdy, introvert sort of person. Past Crush He had a crush on Mikaela Winter during his school years. Alver felt a silent connection or familiarity towards his childhood friend. Perhaps because they both were... off in their own way. Bullied, misjudged. Alver didn't particularly have much hesitation when he figured out what he was feeling, and ended up confessing. Yet he was turned down. Heartbroken and crushed, he felt a bit bitter yet he just smiled in response. Then his father died, and the combination of grief assisted in secluding himself from everyone. Current Crush ----- Are you in contact with a Rose? No. Personality Alver is sort of quiet at first, mostly because he starts out suspicious of other people due to what his parents often warned him about and his previous encounters. Due to this, he can be sarcastic, sometimes a smart-ass, and let out a bit more of his dark sarcastic humor. He's also sometimes a bit mean and bitter when it comes to people who seem to feel overly sorry for themselves. He doesn't mean to be cruel, it just comes out that way. However, he's a pretty mature, sweet and kind boy who's rather calm most of the time. Pretty level headed, and doesn't enjoy fights. He's naturally curious and adventurous and enjoys wandering about often, seeming to ignore any possible danger. Although he doesn't have a lot of social skills and finds it difficult on how to talk to others, he does want other people's company even for a little bit. Having been secluded most of his life. But he's always willing to lend a friendly ear to those who feel down, giving his own friendly advice and opinions. Quite a fatherly/brotherly figure towards those younger than him. He loves flowers, stargazing, singing and playing the piano. As well as practicing Judo his father taught him. He also likes animals. Despite his overall kind nature, he can be mischievous and enjoys teasing others and has a little bit of dark humor. Despite others not usually enjoying his presence and sometimes hating his own appearance, he has a small bit of pride in his looks and never really attempts hiding his hair anymore, even growing it out into a longer length. He also enjoys taking advantage of those who are a bit scared of him from the 'demonic, ghost, vampire' rumors. He is however quite a bit naïve. Mostly a introvert during the day, and spending most of his time drawing or reading, he's not very good with technology or picking up certain things. He hasn't watched many movies, or adventured the internet other than strictly for work, sayings usually fly over his head, and he usually thinks his looks drive people away, so he never notices if people actually find him attractive. He's neat and organized, his house quite tidy and doesn't quite enjoy a mess. Though usually is the one who always cleans up even if the mess isn't his. Though he does enjoy wearing loose clothes as they are comfy. Likes cute things (including people). Short Bio On the day of Halloween, October 31st, gave birth to a boy with striking white hair and very pale white skin. Eyes a pretty light lavender color that often seemed to change color depending on where the light struck them. Sometimes lavender, sometimes a very light pale blue, and even a tinge of red people would say. His parents were quite shocked to see such a pale baby and wondered if he was just unhealthy, having never seen someone as pale as a ghost. He wasn't, the was just born with the gene of extremely rare pigments of a albino. So, his mother named him Alver, meaning "White" in Latin-American, along to fit with his last name, Rozu meaning Rose. His parents worried over his well being, as the doctors gave them proper diagnostics of possible defects of albinos, as well as studying their own research. They feared he would burn easily and wouldn't be able to see well since he had such low pigments in his eyes. So he was quite sheltered as a child. His parents often trying to keep him indoors and away from people, in fear of others reaction. As well as not wanting their son to burn easily or hurt his eyes further. Alver however was the curious sort. He wanted to go outside, play, interact with the other children. Including going to school like everybody else. In which case, his parents relented as long as he wore a hoodie, brought a umbrella and sunglasses with him. Of course this made him look a bit more awkward. His father died when Alver was fifteen, and his mother spends most her time working as a policewoman. Through his time in public school, he was often bullied for his looks. But he stayed around and put up with it so he could be with his friends. However, when his friendships fell apart... So did he. Unable to handle it and becoming bitter over people, he left public school to be home schooled. Shutting out the world and finding comfort in his own tiny one. When he was fifteen year old and he was out playing by himself, he was kidnapped by a group of shady people. His parents were of course on the case and hunted them down, however, during the rescue, Son Rozu was shot in the crossfire and bled out. He lost his father that day and he blames himself for it. This was what really made him shut and push everyone away. Not wanting to put others in danger just because of how he looked. He didn't want to see someone else bleed and die in front of him like his father. Especially someone he cared about. As a adult after his friendship broke with his childhood friends and his father's death, he more or less secluded himself from people as much as possible. Save the occasional few from work. Other *He has sensitive hearing and sense of smell. So he doesn't like loud places or strong smelling areas. *He likes to play piano and sing occasionally. *He enjoys cooking and is actually quite good at it. *He'a a bit of a clean freak and his house is kept tidy. *A habit of is that he takes care of others. Makes sure people are well fed, makes sure their clothes are straight, makes sure they have what they need. It's why he was taken advantage of by bullies as he'd usually 'help' them with their homework or give away his lunch. That and he his friends usually poked fun at how he could be a mother hen. *He has a high dislike/fear of any vehicle and usually avoids using them. *If ever he goes out in sunlight, he wears light colored clothes, sunglasses, and has a umbrella to protect himself. *He likes cloudy or rainy days. *He enjoys painting, and occasionally, he paints his childhood friends when they were kids. *He's quite the dork really. Loves manga and comic books and the occasional video game. Though most he can't quite play as his eyes can't handle them very well. Most of the older games he could though. Theme Song(s) Pompeii by Bastille Away From The Sun by 3 Doors Down Answer Coward Montblanc (Acquaintance / Friend / Close Friend / Best Friend / Love Interest / Boyfriend-Girlfriend / Ex / Enemy) Zachary Harper Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "When we were kids, Harpy and Miky were pretty much the kids of the group. I remember Harpy was so adorable and looked like such a girl. It's a reason I called him Harpy. For his last name and to tease his feminine features. Still, he was a bit of a baby and I often found myself trying to baby him. He was a bit of a scatter brain though. Honestly, I swear he needed other people to take care of him. I didn't really mind when he needed attention though... Hope at least nowadays he can stand on his own." Genie Fulton Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "If I was the calm one, GG the Pup was the temperamental one. He could get loud and I swear you even hint at a competition, he'd jump at the chance. He even tried to beat me at painting. That was messy. We'd butt heads occasionally, but to me he was like a large dog. Lots of barking, but was loyal and cute when he wanted to be. And despite his temperament, I knew he was someone I could rely on back then." Julius Graham Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "Awe Teddy. Such a cute kid. Despite the big guy he was lovable like a teddy bear. Adorable in his own way, course he didn't always enjoy it when I teased him about it. Always saying he was totally manly or something. But I liked him when he showed his true colors. When I painted, he would watch me sometimes, but whenever I offered for him to try, he'd just refuse. It was a pity. I still think of him fondly even now when I paint. Thinking his cheerful self would probably brighten this lonely house." Mikaela Winter Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend/First Crush "Miky... He had always been such a cutie. Despite being older then me, I just wanted to coddle him, protect him and make him smile. He was just so... Breathtaking is what comes to mind. It's hard to describe. When we were young, he spoke of such interesting fantasies sometimes. I wanted to paint them. Draw them. See what he saw. Course I couldn't quite replicate it, but it was nice trying. I was drawn to him unknowingly at first until we reached middle school years. Perhaps it was because his eyes were a little odd like mine... Or he was just odd as I was. So I got a little brave with some encouragement and confessed. I was rejected however. I knew that such a thing was possible, but I guess in my heart I was hoping for something straight out of a romantic book or a shounen manga. I also didn't realize how much it would hurt. And it really hurt. Cause the combination of fear, guilt, and bitterness held my heart. I was afraid I had just ruined our life long friendship. Guilty that I made Miky uncomfortable... And bitter that he didn't accept me. I knew it wasn't his fault, I did really. I hated myself for thinking that. I didn't want my friends to see the disgusting side of me. So I ran away. Like a coward and just ended up destroying my friendships. Thinking to myself 'they are better off without me. No one needs me. I'll just do what my kind does. Ghosts disappear.' So that's what I did. Disappear from their lives, letting them live them. It was fine. I'll be okay alone. Everything was better that way." Niles Blake Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "Coolio was a fun kid. He generally was just fun to be around. A bit silly.. Whenever we got in trouble, he was pretty much the one that talked us out of it. Then was able to laugh about it later. I had to fix his hair sometimes. It always felt he just royally messed it up. He just laughed at about anything though. It warmed the heart really." Lucas Adolf Past and Present Relationship: Ex-Boyfriend "He's crude... insensitive... a jerk... and at times cruel. Yet he could show such kindness sometimes. He always had a talent at pulling my heartstrings. Guess in a way... he gave me a sense of belonging."

Alors écoute près du son de ton âme, reprend une vie que nous avons menée une fois avant, si ce n'est pas toi alors qui? Si ce n'est pas toi, alors qui t'aimera? Collab avec Au moment où la porte s'ouvrit, les minutes suivantes passèrent comme un éclair. Stupéfait, Zac a regardé l'impossible Albino qu'il avait connu il y a longtemps. Comme si c'était quelque chose que les deux visiteurs attendaient, la porte s'est refermée. Il n'y avait pas de temps pour réagir à une telle poussée de croissance! La porte! Le dooooor! Le jeune homme regarda Jules poser son pied dans l'ouverture. Après le *slam*, la blonde murmura "Ouchhh". Ils ne voulaient pas avoir à utiliser l'invasion comme moyen de parler à leur ami d'enfance, mais Alver aimait éviter les gens. C'était probablement une réaction d'impulsion parce qu'il n'était pas mentalement prêt à voir des visages de son passé. Qui le blâmerait? Pourtant, le jeune homme, dont le plus grand changement était ses cheveux, n'allait pas prendre "non" pour une réponse. La porte était complètement ouverte et prête pour l'entrée ~! Comme si aucun temps ne s'était écoulé entre eux, Zac a enlevé ses chaussures, les a placées près de la porte, et a remis à Al le sac en papier rempli de sachets de petit déjeuner. « Il ne sert à rien de gaspiller notre geste aimable. Nous ne resterons pas trop longtemps, mais nous aimerions partir avec des ventres pleins." Le garçon une fois oh si timide que l'Albino avait connu il y a des années était extrêmement bouleversant maintenant, entrant dans la maison de son vieil ami comme si c'était seulement hier ils avaient dit au revoir. Laisser un sifflet d'être impressionné, Zac n'a pas pu s'empêcher d'apprécier son environnement, "Vous avez fait un long chemin, Al." En croisant ses bras et en se penchant contre le mur, l'homme aux cheveux foncés a commenté la menace vide : « Autant que je veux avoir peur, vous n'êtes pas du genre à écraser la tête de vieux amis sans raison valable. » Zac a fait un geste à la chauve-souris dont il a pris note lorsqu'il est entré, « Génie d'un autre côté... » Rire nerveusement et ne pas attendre avec impatience la rencontre qui n'était pas encore venue, le plus jeune et le plus petit des hommes dans cette pièce s'est ridiculisé le nez. "Tu sais, je pense que la seule chose que tu as drainée, c'est le portefeuille de quelqu'un... Je ne me souviens pas de toi avec ce genre d'argent." Julius a plaisanté, en grinchant sur le grincheux dans son pied. Alver était passé d'un petit pipsqueak à un... petit géant riche. Il était grand, mais l'homme, la blonde a juré qu'il pourrait le casser en deux avec combien il était mince. Tournant la tête vers l'homme de muscle, il n'a pas pu s'empêcher de rire à la victoire de Julius, "Il semble que vous avez Jules bien cependant!" En arrachant sa tasse de Joe du plateau, l'homme douloureux tenait, Zac sentit la forte, brassée le matin, et prit une bonne, longue gorgée. "Ouais, ouais. Je suppose que j'ai une nouvelle ecchymose à attendre avec impatience! Un grand souvenir d'un vieil ami, je dirais." la blonde parlait, un sourire s'élargissant sur son visage. Son estomac a commencé à gronder en même temps, affamé d'un de ces sandwichs au petit déjeuner. Impatiemment, il se promène vers une table voisine et place le porte-gobelet sur le dessus avant d'attaquer pratiquement le sac qu'Al tenait. De l'intérieur, il a apporté un sandwich massif et a immédiatement commencé à s'écraser dessus. Il a essayé de dire quelque chose pendant qu'il mangeait, quelque chose qui ressemblait à "Ce sandwich est si bon!" "Laissons-nous marcher et parler, j'aimerais voir votre nouveau berceau! Oh et pour expliquer "ce que je veux"... une longue histoire court, je veux que le gang soit à nouveau ensemble." Il n'allait pas battre autour du buisson. Avec Alver, Zac sentait qu'il pouvait être clair comme le jour avec lui, ou du moins il espérait être franc était une stratégie A-OK. Il était trop tôt le matin pour penser à des tactiques folles et convaincantes. Si son vieil ami ne voulait pas prendre le risque, eh bien, ils pourraient toujours utiliser la force et le traîner à la réunion demain... Bien sûr, Zac voudrait éviter la "force" à tout prix. Alors que le joli garçon s'asseyait seul, une minuscule figure aux yeux lavandes brillants et aux cheveux blonds s'écoulait vers lui et lui offrait un biscuit. Ces yeux... quelque chose à propos de l'ombre de la lavande était étrangement familier. Sourire et regarder le garçon avec beaucoup d'amour, Zac a donné un sourire enfantin, "C'est bon pour moi de l'avoir? Je ne veux pas manger quelque chose qui n'est pas à moi! Si je t'avais eu des ennuis, je serais triste!" Peut-être qu'un jour, l'homme aurait ses propres enfants. Le sentiment était agréable à penser, mais un fantasme inutile. Au moins jusqu'à ce qu'il trouve quelqu'un qui vaut la peine de passer le reste de sa vie avec. Sortir de son siège, Zac s'est accroupi au sol pour qu'il soit au niveau de la tête avec le petit gars. Lâcher un ringard apaisant, l'homme personnifiable a demandé : « Tu es plutôt beau, tes parents sont-ils là? Si vous voulez, appelez-moi Zac! Ou Zaky... tu peux m'appeler Cookie aussi si tu veux! » Soudain, quelqu'un a tapé sur son épaule et Zac a levé les yeux pour voir un vieil ami du lycée. Elle s'est accroupie avec lui. Sa peau était bronzée, elle portait des lunettes à cadre rouge, et ses cheveux étaient longs et bruns. C'était un de ses vieux amis de sa clique. Nina avait définitivement laissé son passé derrière elle, son vêtement était pastel et blanc plutôt que noir et rouge. Un changement étrange pour le jeune homme à voir. "C'est bon de te voir Zac! C'est à qui l'enfant?" "Mon nouveau meilleur ami! N'est-ce pas? Il offrit sa main à Luc pour un cinq. Les orbes grises de la femme s'illuminent, voyant une occasion parfaite et sournoise, elle pourrait profiter de... "Pourquoi tu ne lui chantes pas un petit quelque chose? Je n'ai pas entendu ta voix depuis des années!" Elle a coincé sa langue à son vieil ami, sachant très bien qu'elle a probablement intrigué Luke, tout en coinçant son bourgeon de lycée dans une situation gênante. Nina, je ne pense pas que ce soit le moment ou... "Allez! Je suis sûr que tout le monde ici apprécierait." Sachant que c'était une bataille qu'il ne gagnerait pas, Zac se leva et tira sa place pour que le petit s'asseyât. Assis sur le siège où Julius aurait pu s'asseoir (mais Jules attendait toujours sa nourriture), le joli garçon fermait les mains ensemble. La chanson qu'il a décidé de chanter était For Good de la Broadway Musical, Wicked. Quelque chose d'émotif mais d'incroyable. Une chanson sur une véritable et pure amitié, comment nous sommes capables de laisser des empreintes à la main sur le cœur de l'autre. S'éclaircissant la gorge, l'homme aux longs cheveux écouta les notes dans la tête avant d'ouvrir les lèvres. J'ai entendu dire que les gens viennent dans nos vies pour une raison... Apporter quelque chose que nous devons apprendre et nous sommes conduits, à ceux qui nous aident le plus à grandir si nous les laissons... et nous les aidons en retour. Eh bien, je ne sais pas si je crois que c'est vrai, mais je sais que je suis qui je suis aujourd'hui, parce que je te connaissais... comme une comète tirée de l'orbite En passant par un soleil Comme un ruisseau qui rencontre un rocher à mi-chemin du bois... Qui peut dire si j'ai été changé pour le mieux? Mais parce que je te connaissais, j'ai été changé pour de bon... Sa voix résonnait dans toute la pièce. Son regard bleu rencontra doucement les yeux intrigués de Luc sur la lavande, ne détournant jamais son attention de lui. En ce moment, l'étranger voulait rendre l'enfant important. C'était un petit spectacle pour juste le petit, qui avait un cœur doux, et toute sa vie devant lui. Zac priait ce gamin d'avoir de bons parents, une grande enfance, et gagnerait des amis qu'il chérirait... Trop innocent. Trop jeune. Fermant les yeux alors que sa chanson se terminait, Zac prit le bref silence autour de lui. La chambre remplie d'applaudissements et le jeune homme ne pouvait s'empêcher de rougir. "J'ai souhaité que vous poursuiviez une carrière dans la musique! Tu as une si grande voix." Nina a complimenté quand son téléphone a commencé à sonner. En regardant le joli garçon de façon apologétique, elle s'est renvoyée et a quitté l'immeuble. Courant sa main à travers ses longs cheveux, avec encore un peu de rose sur les joues, Zac regarda le garçon, "J'espère que tu l'aimes... euh... peut-être que je devrais t'emmener voir tes parents?" Pendant ce temps, Julius attendait toujours au comptoir et tapotait un de ses grands pieds contre le sol. Les baristas à l'avant avaient quitté leurs positions, lui disant qu'ils « devaient obtenir quelque chose de l'arrière ». La nana qui avait pris son ordre le fixait assez intensément. Elle n'avait pas peur de lui, n'est-ce pas? Il savait qu'il était gros et volumineux, mais il n'allait blesser personne. Il a prié silencieusement qu'ils n'appelleraient pas les flics. "... euh... Allô?" il a prononcé, une expression confuse flottant sur son visage. De derrière lui, il entendit la voix d'un ange qui chantait. Ou bien, il pensait que c'était jusqu'à ce qu'il se retourne et voit que c'était juste Zac chantant pour une femme et un enfant. Julius savait qu'il pouvait chanter quand il était plus jeune, mais il ne savait pas qu'il était si bon. En interne, le grand homme soupirait. Zac avait tellement de potentiel, mais il semblait qu'il en avait gaspillé un peu. Peut-être qu'il n'était pas trop tard... "Bon travail, Zac! Maintenant, prenons la Voix et rendons-nous célèbres." Julius a complimenté son ami, applaudissant tonnerre. (Pourquoi a-t-il toujours été si intimidant? Je sais que les apparences peuvent être trompeuses mais... hm, eh bien, on l'a aussi interrompu pendant son service... il a le droit d'être suspect... Je me souviens du jour où j'étais princesse pour une pièce d'école. Genie ne m'a jamais laissée seule après ça! Toujours avec le taquinage... Et pourtant, ça ne me dérangeait pas. Ça semblait le faire rire. Voir son côté moins effrayant était toujours sympa. En plus, les garçons aimaient choisir les gens... Je suppose qu'à l'époque, j'étais une exception et que j'aimais être taquiné? Quand il jouait, je n'ai pas pu m'empêcher de sourire. Genie, de toutes les personnes, m'a donné l'attention! Ça doit être une sorte d'exploit, n'est-ce pas? J'ai appris à accepter mes caractéristiques. J'ai même des travestis de temps en temps pour le bien de ma sœur. C'est bizarre de le revoir... il se porte avec un tel pouvoir. Je ne pense pas pouvoir surmonter cette peur. Pour l'instant, je vais observer ses expressions.) En voyant un petit rose sur le visage de Genie quand Julius est entré sur la photo, le joli garçon a incliné la tête et a continué à écouter... et à regarder. (Ces deux-là étaient comme les gars rugueux... Je n'ai jamais eu une chance contre l'un ou l'autre d'entre eux. Mais c'est bon de les voir parler à nouveau. Quoi qu'il en soit. Il m'a donné un sourire à Jules et pas à moi, mais je m'en remettrai. Génie semblait toujours plus à l'aise avec Jules... Je suis un peu soulagé de l'avoir amené. Les choses ne semblent pas si mauvaises quand Julius est là. En disant ça, je pense que je vais aller voir Niles tout seul... Je ne veux pas qu'il se sente comme...) "Je descends à cinq heures demain..." Le regard de hazel a rencontré le regard océanique de Zac, comme l'homme plus âgé a continué, "Si vous voulez vous rencontrer. Je travaille en ce moment donc -" Le joli garçon a regardé que l'homme aux cheveux foncés a ouvert la porte du camion poubelle, "- c'était sympa de vous voir tous les deux." C'est pas vrai. Est-ce que c'était facile? Est-ce que c'est juste arrivé? Est-ce que Génie vient juste d'initier la réunion avec nous?!) Surgelé en position, Zac a regardé la voiture s'envoler. Les papillons étaient dans l'estomac du jeune homme alors qu'il regardait Jules avec une lueur dans ses yeux : « C'est de plus en plus une réalité! » "Huh. Je vais lui envoyer les détails. Il semble plus rationnel maintenant, n'est-ce pas? Je suis surpris qu'il n'ait pas jeté cette poubelle sur moi et ensuite essayer de me battre au sol." Julius a commenté d'une manière plaisante. Il a en quelque sorte manqué les moments où Genie et lui allaient juste y aller. Alors que son vieil ami s'éloignait, la blonde lui fit signe d'adieu à la main, espérant que Gene le verrait dans son miroir latéral. Embrasse, embrasse-toi, tombe amoureux! Soudain son téléphone a commencé à sonner, sonnant de la chanson de thème pour le club d'hôte de l'école secondaire Ouran. Le visage de Julius est devenu rouge dans l'embarras et a failli laisser tomber son téléphone en essayant de répondre. Il n'arrêtait pas d'oublier de changer cette sonnerie! Rincant les yeux, Zac fixa son ami avec l'étrange... sonnerie. N'était-ce pas d'un harem anime dirigé vers les femmes? "Bonjour? - Oh, hey, bébé! Non, bien sûr que je n'ai pas oublié! Dîner à 5 h? Bien sûr que je peux le faire. Oui, bien sûr. Ça a l'air génial. ... M'kay. A tout à l'heure. Je t'aime aussi." Julius a rattrapé l'autre personne sur la ligne, se promenant sur le trottoir. (Babe? Un dîner? Je t'aime aussi? Ouaht. Ça ne me regarde pas, mais on dirait que Julius a été pris avec joie. Tant mieux pour lui!) Après l'appel, il a jeté un coup d'oeil à Zac en espérant qu'il n'y ait rien pensé. "C'était Erika, mon ami. Tu penses que tu peux trouver Niles tout seul? Elle et moi dînons tous les jeudis chez Mario, et j'ai oublié... Désolé pour ça." Il s'est excusé auprès de Zac. "Des sons comme si les choses devenaient assez sérieuses! Je suis content que tu aies quelqu'un de spécial qui te fasse sourire. Oui, bien sûr. En fait, j'avais l'intention de voir Niles seul de toute façon, puisqu'il peut être un peu... C'est difficile." Une expression confuse est tombée sur le visage de Julius alors qu'il regardait son béguin passé... attends quoi? "Qu'est-ce que tu fous là?"Qu'est-ce que tu fous là?" Pour une raison de Dieu, Zac n'a pas été surpris quand le diable lui-même est apparu. Non, pas du tout. Il était en colère et assez bizarrement, Louis pouvait voir le changement d'humeur dans ses yeux saphirs. Faire un sourire pour que Niles ne remarque pas à quel point il était perturbé, l'homme aux cheveux longs a écouté le barman demander, "Puis-je vous apporter autre chose...?" On aurait dit qu'il voulait s'adresser au garçon mais qu'il ne connaissait pas son nom. Appelez-moi Zac! Pas besoin de formalités. Tu sais quoi, je vais prendre une photo de Kamikaze et un joli classique italien, les Negroni. Merde ces hipsters pour avoir fait de mon plaisir coupable. Au fait, tu es un sacré bon barman." Plongé dans sa poche, il a sorti son portefeuille, un peu d'argent, et a attendu patiemment que Louis le demande, l'étiquette du barman. Boire n'était pas quelque chose que le jeune homme faisait souvent... pas comme ces derniers temps, mais ce soir, il se traitait lui-même. Pourquoi pas? En montant un sourcil, Louis a commencé à faire la boisson peu de ses clients ici commandés. Ce club s'adressait plus aux animaux de la fête qu'aux hipsters, mais Louis avait l'impression que ce gamin connaissait son alcool. Le Negroni était l'une des boissons principales que chaque barman devrait savoir faire et incroyablement fort. En tournant son regard vers son bon pote, Niles Blake, Zac roula hardiment les yeux : « Je ne savais pas que j'avais besoin d'une invitation pour venir dans une boîte de nuit publique. C'est bon de te voir aussi, Nye." Les boissons sont venues et le jeune homme est allé droit pour le tir avec des parties égales vodka, triple sec et jus de lime, garni d'une belle tranche de lime. Tirant avec facilité, surtout après avoir été ivre l'année dernière tous les jours, l'homme téméraire a donné à son vieil ami des yeux difficiles, "Je vois que vous vous amusez depuis toutes ces années." Pendant qu'il était là, autant apprécier ça! Ça n'a pas aidé que Niles ait déclenché la nature entêtée en lui. D'une certaine façon, Zac était bouleversé que ce soit ainsi que son ami d'enfance a réagi en le voyant... il pourrait y avoir un petit espoir pour une réaction plus positive. Mais enfin, c'était la vie. Aujourd'hui, c'était une sacrée journée stressante. Comment allait-il convaincre cet homme de venir à une réunion demain alors qu'il pourrait l'attaquer? (J'ai juste besoin de boire jusqu'à ce que je me calme.) Il était responsable de la raison pour laquelle ils ont perdu contact, étant distrait de résoudre les problèmes de son ex, mais... Niles ne s'est même pas soucié de se battre. Il y avait quelque chose au sujet de leur lien dans le passé que Zac s'est fait croire pourrait durer pour toujours, mais ici il était, se saouler, tout en essayant d'atténuer la tension-- très probablement faire un travail terrible à elle. Peu de temps après, le joli garçon et le barman ont échangé de l'argent avec un verre, puis Louis a laissé les deux seuls pour s'occuper d'autres clients. Il y avait un bref silence entre les deux vieux amis, maintenant beaucoup de connaissances, comme Zac a saisi une prise de sa boisson et a balayé le liquide rouge à l'intérieur comme un courant océanique calme. Ils avaient besoin de trouver un endroit calme, quelque part où aucun d'entre eux n'a dû constamment crier l'un contre l'autre. Se tenant debout, avec un verre à la main, le jeune s'approcha de la créature dangereuse qu'il utilisait pour avoir le béguin. À la recherche d'un sourire, Zac a demandé froidement : « Est-ce que je peux supposer que vous connaissez un endroit où nous pouvons parler? Pour info. Je ne laisserai pas mon verre derrière moi." Enfin, il a pris le temps de regarder, vraiment regarder, son vieil ami. Et wow, a-t-il grandi. (Deux pouces de plus que moi, coupe propre, cheveux étonnamment soignés, et... encore beaucoup de regards...). Gardant ses pensées pour lui-même, l'homme à la peau belle prit une gorgée de sa boisson, ses yeux ne fléchissant jamais de l'éblouissement brun boueux qui le regarda. À l'époque, il n'aurait jamais gardé un visage droit ni regardé personne dans les yeux pendant de longues périodes. Bien sûr, il avait encore quelques tendances enfantines, mais après des années d'abus émotionnels, s'affirmer est devenu la priorité absolue. De loin, il pouvait voir les deux filles qui le regardaient plus tôt. (Éviter à tout prix.) Inintentionnellement, il a donné aux filles une poutre de brise-cœur et leurs visages rougissent de rouge tomate. Y a-t-il un bon moyen d'être fort? J'ai l'impression de faire des choses mal. Je suis toujours là.

- snipped - roleplay closed -

Il semble que son facteur d'intimidation n'ait pas fonctionné et ses vieux amis ont en quelque sorte forcé leur chemin comme ils l'ont visité si souvent. Les yeux de lavande clignotant alors que le sac de marchandises offertes était forcé dans ses mains, il donna un léger soupir. Il ne s'est pas senti surpris par ces actions. Malgré son départ à l'âge de onze ans, il semblait qu'ils se rappelaient encore quelque peu comment il était. Pour être honnête, il n'avait pas trop changé depuis. Il a un peu plus d'écorce. Il lui fallait en quelque sorte apprendre pour éviter trop d'ennuis. Evidemment, ces deux-là ne partaient pas exactement et ne prenaient pas pour une réponse alors l'homme pâle se relâchait, fermant la porte derrière eux avec son dos. S'incliner dans l'approbation mineure que Zac a enlevé ses chaussures avant qu'il ne regarde l'homme blonde. "...enlève tes chaussures." Alver a dit fermement avant de prendre un moment pour jeter un coup d'œil sur sa maison alors que ses deux amis semblaient impressionnés. « Grand-père me l'a donné il y a onze ans. » Il murmura avant de se faire remarquer par Julius alors que l'homme fortifé attaquait le sac. Alver a eu l'instinct d'être à proximité de quelqu'un d'autre. Bien que ses yeux languissent à l'enfantement Julius. Il n'avait pas beaucoup changé. Un peu fronçant alors qu'ils plaisantaient sur le pied de Julius, la culpabilité et l'inquiétude s'accrochaient un peu à son cœur. Il n'avait pas l'intention de faire de mal à la grosse crasse. Même si l'idiot n'aurait pas dû bloquer la porte comme ça. "Désolé..." Le grand homme pâle s'est excusé, mentalement en se palmant le visage. Pourquoi s'excusait-il? Ce sont eux qui s'invitent. "Ne parle pas avec ta bouche pleine. Mâcher la bouche fermée. Et manger à la table à manger. Tu es toujours un enfant." Alver gronda, bien que sa voix fût plus douce par rapport au ton aigu « aller loin » qu'il avait utilisé et a légèrement claqué un doigt mince sur le front de l'homme plus court. C'est vrai. Ici, il pensait qu'il avait rompu l'habitude de sa mère. Je ne crois pas. Des gros fruits d'oie. En regardant Zacharie à la mention de vérifier l'endroit, Alver soupira à nouveau. Doucement amusé comme il semblait Zachary était un peu plus franc et social, puis il se souvenait. Mais j'avais encore de la curiosité, et un peu de trouble. Mettre le sac de produits alimentaires sur la table avant de traverser la maison gracieusement. Il ne pouvait pas croire que c'était arrivé. Les yeux claquent pour regarder vers son ami à oeil bleu, clignotant un peu en surprise sur la raison apparente qu'ils étaient ici. Il lui a fallu un long moment pour le traiter avant qu'Alver ne donne une réponse tout aussi claire. "Non." C'était vraiment une idée ridicule. Ça faisait des années, les gens changent. Ils se connaissaient probablement à peine. Au moins, Alver les connaissait à peine. Il avait évité tout contact avec eux. Il n'a pas utilisé Facebook ou aucun de ces trucs fantaisistes doohickey sur Internet. Son email était son alias de travail, et son téléphone était juste connu de sa mère, Lily et Lucas. Il n'avait aucune idée de qui était quelqu'un. Bien sûr, Harpy et Teddy n'avaient pas l'air de changer beaucoup. Surtout Teddy. De plus, rassembler les amis d'enfance voulait dire qu'il devait vraiment socialiser. Avec des gens. Dehors. Faites des choses que vos amis font de nos jours. Qu'est-ce qu'ils ont encore fait? Et il aurait dû voir Miky... Alver ne pensait pas qu'il avait des sentiments persistants. Il les a mis de côté après le rejet. Pourtant, il pouvait encore se souvenir de ce jour très clairement. Ce serait sûrement gênant. Puis encore une fois, une partie de lui voulait voir si le garçon était encore si mou. "Nous ne sommes plus des enfants. Je suis sûr que tout le monde vit sa propre vie. Pourquoi commencer maintenant?" L'homme pâle a demandé, sa voix cool et calme, tout le temps que son esprit rattrapé qui a décidé soudainement de jeter une balle courbe dans sa vie tranquille sans égale.

Birthday October 31st Age 26 Formula and Sexuality Versatile and Homosexual Goal To be a little more out of shell. Do what friends do. Hangout and things. Or attempt to. Marriage/Family/Love Life Has been in one relationship four years ago. But he shut himself in after the break up. Has a grey she-cat named Miko. His father, having died when Alver was fifteen, was a kind man. While his mother still lives working as a policewoman. Rarely home. Occupation Writer/Manga Artist/Artist Appearance Height: 7'0 Weight: 160 lb Other prominent traits: His skin is ghostly pale, odd lavender colored eyes that occasionally change depending on the angle with the sunlight. White hair. Often wears a pair of glasses or contacts. Despite being tall, he's pretty skinny and almost looks fragile. But he can still pull off a judo move or two. Middleschool/Highschool Clique He's the nerdy, introvert sort of person. Past Crush He had a crush on Mikaela Winter during his school years. Alver felt a silent connection or familiarity towards his childhood friend. Perhaps because they both were... off in their own way. Bullied, misjudged. Alver didn't particularly have much hesitation when he figured out what he was feeling, and ended up confessing. Yet he was turned down. Heartbroken and crushed, he felt a bit bitter yet he just smiled in response. Then his father died, and the combination of grief assisted in secluding himself from everyone. Current Crush ----- Are you in contact with a Rose? No. Personality Alver is sort of quiet at first, mostly because he starts out suspicious of other people due to what his parents often warned him about and his previous encounters. Due to this, he can be sarcastic, sometimes a smart-ass, and let out a bit more of his dark sarcastic humor. He's also sometimes a bit mean and bitter when it comes to people who seem to feel overly sorry for themselves. He doesn't mean to be cruel, it just comes out that way. However, he's a pretty mature, sweet and kind boy who's rather calm most of the time. Pretty level headed, and doesn't enjoy fights. He's naturally curious and adventurous and enjoys wandering about often, seeming to ignore any possible danger. Although he doesn't have a lot of social skills and finds it difficult on how to talk to others, he does want other people's company even for a little bit. Having been secluded most of his life. But he's always willing to lend a friendly ear to those who feel down, giving his own friendly advice and opinions. Quite a fatherly/brotherly figure towards those younger than him. He loves flowers, stargazing, singing and playing the piano. As well as practicing Judo his father taught him. He also likes animals. Despite his overall kind nature, he can be mischievous and enjoys teasing others and has a little bit of dark humor. Despite others not usually enjoying his presence and sometimes hating his own appearance, he has a small bit of pride in his looks and never really attempts hiding his hair anymore, even growing it out into a longer length. He also enjoys taking advantage of those who are a bit scared of him from the 'demonic, ghost, vampire' rumors. He is however quite a bit naïve. Mostly a introvert during the day, and spending most of his time drawing or reading, he's not very good with technology or picking up certain things. He hasn't watched many movies, or adventured the internet other than strictly for work, sayings usually fly over his head, and he usually thinks his looks drive people away, so he never notices if people actually find him attractive. He's neat and organized, his house quite tidy and doesn't quite enjoy a mess. Though usually is the one who always cleans up even if the mess isn't his. Though he does enjoy wearing loose clothes as they are comfy. Likes cute things (including people). Short Bio On the day of Halloween, October 31st, gave birth to a boy with striking white hair and very pale white skin. Eyes a pretty light lavender color that often seemed to change color depending on where the light struck them. Sometimes lavender, sometimes a very light pale blue, and even a tinge of red people would say. His parents were quite shocked to see such a pale baby and wondered if he was just unhealthy, having never seen someone as pale as a ghost. He wasn't, the was just born with the gene of extremely rare pigments of a albino. So, his mother named him Alver, meaning "White" in Latin-American, along to fit with his last name, Rozu meaning Rose. His parents worried over his well being, as the doctors gave them proper diagnostics of possible defects of albinos, as well as studying their own research. They feared he would burn easily and wouldn't be able to see well since he had such low pigments in his eyes. So he was quite sheltered as a child. His parents often trying to keep him indoors and away from people, in fear of others reaction. As well as not wanting their son to burn easily or hurt his eyes further. Alver however was the curious sort. He wanted to go outside, play, interact with the other children. Including going to school like everybody else. In which case, his parents relented as long as he wore a hoodie, brought a umbrella and sunglasses with him. Of course this made him look a bit more awkward. His father died when Alver was fifteen, and his mother spends most her time working as a policewoman. Through his time in public school, he was often bullied for his looks. But he stayed around and put up with it so he could be with his friends. However, when his friendships fell apart... So did he. Unable to handle it and becoming bitter over people, he left public school to be home schooled. Shutting out the world and finding comfort in his own tiny one. When he was fifteen year old and he was out playing by himself, he was kidnapped by a group of shady people. His parents were of course on the case and hunted them down, however, during the rescue, Son Rozu was shot in the crossfire and bled out. He lost his father that day and he blames himself for it. This was what really made him shut and push everyone away. Not wanting to put others in danger just because of how he looked. He didn't want to see someone else bleed and die in front of him like his father. Especially someone he cared about. As a adult after his friendship broke with his childhood friends and his father's death, he more or less secluded himself from people as much as possible. Save the occasional few from work. Other *He has sensitive hearing and sense of smell. So he doesn't like loud places or strong smelling areas. *He likes to play piano and sing occasionally. *He enjoys cooking and is actually quite good at it. *He'a a bit of a clean freak and his house is kept tidy. *A habit of is that he takes care of others. Makes sure people are well fed, makes sure their clothes are straight, makes sure they have what they need. It's why he was taken advantage of by bullies as he'd usually 'help' them with their homework or give away his lunch. That and he his friends usually poked fun at how he could be a mother hen. *He has a high dislike/fear of any vehicle and usually avoids using them. *If ever he goes out in sunlight, he wears light colored clothes, sunglasses, and has a umbrella to protect himself. *He likes cloudy or rainy days. *He enjoys painting, and occasionally, he paints his childhood friends when they were kids. *He's quite the dork really. Loves manga and comic books and the occasional video game. Though most he can't quite play as his eyes can't handle them very well. Most of the older games he could though. Theme Song(s) Pompeii by Bastille Away From The Sun by 3 Doors Down Answer Coward Montblanc (Acquaintance / Friend / Close Friend / Best Friend / Love Interest / Boyfriend-Girlfriend / Ex / Enemy) Zachary Harper Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "When we were kids, Harpy and Miky were pretty much the kids of the group. I remember Harpy was so adorable and looked like such a girl. It's a reason I called him Harpy. For his last name and to tease his feminine features. Still, he was a bit of a baby and I often found myself trying to baby him. He was a bit of a scatter brain though. Honestly, I swear he needed other people to take care of him. I didn't really mind when he needed attention though... Hope at least nowadays he can stand on his own." Genie Fulton Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "If I was the calm one, GG the Pup was the temperamental one. He could get loud and I swear you even hint at a competition, he'd jump at the chance. He even tried to beat me at painting. That was messy. We'd butt heads occasionally, but to me he was like a large dog. Lots of barking, but was loyal and cute when he wanted to be. And despite his temperament, I knew he was someone I could rely on back then." Julius Graham Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "Awe Teddy. Such a cute kid. Despite the big guy he was lovable like a teddy bear. Adorable in his own way, course he didn't always enjoy it when I teased him about it. Always saying he was totally manly or something. But I liked him when he showed his true colors. When I painted, he would watch me sometimes, but whenever I offered for him to try, he'd just refuse. It was a pity. I still think of him fondly even now when I paint. Thinking his cheerful self would probably brighten this lonely house." Mikaela Winter Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend/First Crush "Miky... He had always been such a cutie. Despite being older then me, I just wanted to coddle him, protect him and make him smile. He was just so... Breathtaking is what comes to mind. It's hard to describe. When we were young, he spoke of such interesting fantasies sometimes. I wanted to paint them. Draw them. See what he saw. Course I couldn't quite replicate it, but it was nice trying. I was drawn to him unknowingly at first until we reached middle school years. Perhaps it was because his eyes were a little odd like mine... Or he was just odd as I was. So I got a little brave with some encouragement and confessed. I was rejected however. I knew that such a thing was possible, but I guess in my heart I was hoping for something straight out of a romantic book or a shounen manga. I also didn't realize how much it would hurt. And it really hurt. Cause the combination of fear, guilt, and bitterness held my heart. I was afraid I had just ruined our life long friendship. Guilty that I made Miky uncomfortable... And bitter that he didn't accept me. I knew it wasn't his fault, I did really. I hated myself for thinking that. I didn't want my friends to see the disgusting side of me. So I ran away. Like a coward and just ended up destroying my friendships. Thinking to myself 'they are better off without me. No one needs me. I'll just do what my kind does. Ghosts disappear.' So that's what I did. Disappear from their lives, letting them live them. It was fine. I'll be okay alone. Everything was better that way." Niles Blake Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "Coolio was a fun kid. He generally was just fun to be around. A bit silly.. Whenever we got in trouble, he was pretty much the one that talked us out of it. Then was able to laugh about it later. I had to fix his hair sometimes. It always felt he just royally messed it up. He just laughed at about anything though. It warmed the heart really." Lucas Adolf Past and Present Relationship: Ex-Boyfriend "He's crude... insensitive... a jerk... and at times cruel. Yet he could show such kindness sometimes. He always had a talent at pulling my heartstrings. Guess in a way... he gave me a sense of belonging."

Le petit garçon secoua la tête et sourit : "C'est sur moi!" Il a dit dans sa voix de grand garçon. Cette personne était même plus jolie maintenant qu'elle avait parlé. Ce n'était pas le genre de personne à prendre le biscuit et à l'éloigner. Luke a eu beaucoup de choses avec des gens qui avaient l'air de l'âge de la jolie personne, quelque chose au sujet des enfants leur a rappelé leurs responsabilités. Son sourire s'est encore élargi. Il semblait que son visage était aussi rouge qu'une tomate quand la personne, Zac, l'avait complimenté. Il a mis le biscuit sur la table devant lui et a dit, "Je vous appellerai Zac alors, mon papa-" Une autre femme s'accroupit à côté de lui, elle était un peu mignonne avec ses couleurs pastel, mais elle l'avait interrompu! Luke a fait de son mieux pour couvrir son put quelque peu ennuyé. Son blush s'était un peu effondré alors qu'il lui en donnait cinq. Qui savait que cette jolie personne était si bonne avec les enfants? Chanter? Luc avait entendu Mica chanter, son papa était certainement sourd au ton. Les seules personnes qu'il entendait chanter étaient les enfants de son école, mais ils n'avaient même pas encore de bons accords vocaux. Il n'a pas vraiment aimé que la femme pressurise Zac, mais il était certainement intrigué. Quand Zac ne regardait pas, il a tiré sur Nina. Luke a pris place sur la chaise que Zac était assis. Tandis que la jolie personne commençait à chanter, il fixa Luke, et son cœur était sérieusement un battement. Ses joues étaient deux bourgeons de roses joyeuses, et les serrures enfantines sur son cœur ont commencé à venir défait. Luke a été gelé une seconde avant d'entendre les applaudissements. Qu'est-ce que papa a dit quand il lui a lu ce conte? Un don de gratitude devrait être donné à ceux que vous aimez. Avec un saut rapide sur la chaise, il a donné un baiser à Zac sur la joue. Luke secoua encore la tête : "Non, mon papa travaille ici." Mikaela avait été rapprochée par la voix de Zac. Il se tenait au milieu de l'allée. Il était allé prendre la commande de quelqu'un de façon discrète, quand tout le magasin avait été arrêté par le chant du joli garçon. Comme il a continué, Micah s'est souvenu de l'époque où tous les garçons s'étaient réunis pour regarder Wicked. Habituellement, Mikaela ne s'intéressait pas trop aux choses physiques, mais il avait vraiment voulu regarder cette pièce. Un jour, un groupe jouait très tard dans la nuit, et il avait convaincu les autres d'aller le voir. Ils se sont tous faufilés pour aller le voir. Zac avait convaincu les colporteurs de leur donner des billets et même si la plupart des garçons s'étaient endormis pendant ce temps, Zac, Alver et lui ne l'avaient pas fait. Une déchirure a glissé sur le visage de Mikaela. Tous les souvenirs sont passés par les portes du déluge. Les temps qu'il avait si précieux. Il n'a pas pu bouger. La douleur et la culpabilité qu'il avait éprouvées en rejetant Alver, la douleur qu'il avait enduré après qu'ils se soient séparés. Peut-être qu'il pourrait retrouver ses deux petits frères... mais il ne pourrait jamais leur dire ce qui s'était passé.

Name Mikaela Winter Nickname Micah Birthday November 7th Age 29 Formula and Sexuality Uke II Heterosexual turned bisexual Goal Be able to support his son and give him the life he deserves. To be able to connect with his true "family" again. Family (Third person POV from his father's perspective) The Winter Family is known for being one of the most prestigious families of Willow Valley. They only had one boy they named Mikaela after the boy's great grandfather. His father never really approved of him, and did everything to kick that unpredictable imagination out of him and groom him into the successor he was meant to be. During middle school, this behavior got worse, his son was mixing up fantasy and reality. Thinking that these would be his last free years, his father let him be on his own. Once Mikaela arrived in high school, work was to be done. He had private tutors that would make him work all the hours of the night after school. He was always made to be in the top three places in school. Someone was influencing the successor, his grades were dropping drastically, he would shut himself into his room after school. He came home one day with cuts all over his face... His father immediately sent him to a boarding school. His heir would not be so weak! After two years of schooling, Mikaela pleaded with his father to let him come home, be with his mother who was having arthritis, gaining the proper social skills of an adult. Mikaela was allowed to go to a public college. There he met Emily, his forbidden love. His father tried to reason with his successor, the vixen was praying on his weak son. Finally, his father threw him out, disowning him. Once his wife was out of the picture. Mikaela's father did reach out a hand to his dreadful son, saying he would forget the past and adopt Luke, but Mikaela refused. Marriage/Love During college, Mikaela met a girl named Emily that was his only hope in the world. His angel was just a normal college girl that could never be accepted by his parents. Mikaela was disowned from the family, but he didn't care. Mikaela was married for a short period of three years from when he was 22 to 26, but his wife died 3 years ago. Emily had been suffering from a hereditary heart disease since she was young and passed away with no other family. He had one baby boy named Luke. Mikaela never did have any other relationship besides his marriage. There was a time in middle school... But that never did go anywhere. His son was born with lighter lavender eyes that came from his father and blonde hair. Luke has a habit of milking his cuteness, but always ends up taking care of his papa. Luke is exceptional at cleaning and housework, more of the time taking care of his dad than the other way around. Occupation During the daytime he works as the manager for a small bar/coffee shop. At night he works as a waiter at his friend's high-class restaurant "Tonnelli's Italian Cuisine Restaurant." His sweet old lady neighbor Jocelyn takes care of his son while he's out at night. At his coffee shop job he wears contacts that make his eye color blue. He leaves them off for his waiter job in order to get extra tips. Sometimes he would make up some inventions he would use around the shop. He was a decent gadget handy man as well. Appearance At the height of 5'4" he's a bit on the short side. He tries his best to keep the average weight of 125, but his weight is always lowering due to his high metabolism. The thing that stands out most about his appearance is his two different colored eyes. His right eye is a mint green, while his left is a deep lavender. he also has a burn scar on his left leg when he saved Luke from dropping a pot of boiling water on his head. He has strawberry blonde hair that is sickeningly straight and he usually leaves it to its own devices. Style: Not really being the fashionable type, Mikaela usually wore whatever his father ordered him to wear. All of his fantasies were kept in his head. He always had the baby face of his. Some people wondered if he ever did go through puberty in the first place, it seemed like he only grew taller and that was it. His voice changed seemed to be gradual and no one could really notice when it came to his normal voice now. Middleschool Clique "The one everyone leaves alone." Mikaela was the kind of person that was always staring off into space and caught in a day dream. In his earlier years of middle school, he was bullied a lot. He kept it a secret from the people around him and slowly all the bullies grew tired of him. The girls at school liked him for his mysterious look, but would leave him alone when they found out he would either talk for days about what he was thinking of, or just ignore them caught in some other delusion. He was always working on some kind of trinket that no one could understand. Highschool Clique "The Freak" It wasn't until high school that he met Jonah. No one had really gotten that psychological and that cruel when they bullied him in middle school. The teenager seemed to always have this sweet happy smile on his face, appearing to others as a good friend of Mikaela's. There were quite a bunch of misunderstandings with it. He would label Micah as a freak, someone that only had the purpose to disgust people. He might grow up to have money, but he'd just become the puppet with his father pulling the strings. Jonah wrecked at his mental state more and more. Mikaela became so withdrawn from reality it messed with his health. Was that a dragon peeking from around the corner? Did the walls just start to close in? Day in and day out was a terror. It was one day when Micah was so out of touch with reality he was unresponsive to Jonah. Getting angrier and angrier, the sadistic bully carved light lines into the other's face. It stung a little, but his words as he sliced him cut far deeper. When Mikaela came home, his father shipped him off to boarding school. He gained more confidence during those years. Mikaela realized he didn't want to carry on his father's legacy. He would do everything to make his father happy... then slip out right from under him. Past Crush He had a deep crush on Genie that he could never explain. Yes, there was no way he could like another man! But... this was Genie... All the boys might have caught on to his affection, but he never did confess. When they were in middle school, Alver confessed to him. Mikaela didn't know what to do. He had been caught at one point reading something with suggested homosexual tendencies. The boy... he had been locked in the closet all night after that. He wasn't gay! That wouldn't happen... Not as long as he lived under that household. Mikaela did his best to soften the blow of his rejection, but it didn't seem to work. Current Crush --- Are you in contact with a Rose? No Personality The boy always seems to be thinking up some new kind of fantasy as a kid. Before he met his childhood friends, he would spend hours staring at the wall and dreaming up new fantasies. He is a lazy bum who can't seem to clean anything right. He was diagnosed with ADHD as a child, but when he is able to focus enough, he's able to cook well. Mikaela loves being around people who all care for each other, they help bring his fantasies to reality. He may not show it, but smiles are all he wants to give other people. He also sees the world a lot differently from other people. Each different sound has a shade of color, and there are all beautiful. He always believed that Zac's blue voice was the prettiest though. Mikaela may seem distant to you now. When he talks to people, he puts on a facade of being super happy, keeping a save emotional distance between the two of you. If he doesn't try hard enough, he usually keeps a straight face all the time, and that creeps people out. Because of his time in high school, he does his best to distance himself. Micah doesn't want people to find out about his fantasies, he doesn't want to call him strange or a freak. He has a son to take care of. Luke and his friend Hank are the only ones around him that know about his daydreaming. Since he isn't good at housework, his son picks up the slack, he's usually taking a nap at home or playing with his son. Short Bio Mikaela never seemed to be fit for the heir to the Winter family. His eyes seemed to be two different colors and he was always off in his own world. His father thought of him as weak and would force him to study all the time. Micah didn't care too much about that, since studying wasn't that bad, whenever he wasn't studying, he was off in his fantasies. In his family, no one knew his true emotions, because he was so bad at showing them on his face. But then he met his first friends, the ones he actually called his family. They all seemed to be younger than him, but they unconsciously taught him how to express himself. He would laugh and play like a normal boy, which his parents had never seen before. Mikaela's favorite place was the club house, that was the only place he would ever go to when he final felt the pressures of his family. But... Everyone left. He couldn't handle the stress of rejecting Alver, the one he thought of as his "family's" mother. Mikaela realized what he was leaving, but he just couldn't handle it. His fantasies were his only company after that. After the intense bullying from Jonah, Mikaela was shipped off to boarding school. There was no way he could leave everything he'd known just to be under his father's thumb. If he had learned anything from Jonah, it was that he was going to turn into the puppet if he didn't do anything. Mikaela convinced his parents to let him go back to college in Willow Valley. There he was able to not be the most popular, but not be the loner either. He was able to meet Hank his freshman year and start his first proper friendship in forever. Jonah didn't go to his college so he didn't have any influence there. His second year... he met Emily. His beautiful angel, the one he hoped to spend his life with. They did everything together. Micah decided to marry her the first chance he got. But his parents said no way. Mikaela was the heir, he was to have an arranged marriage and take over the family business... but he fought back full force. His father got so pissed that he disowned his own son, not caring that he wouldn't have an heir anymore. Those next few years seemed to be his happiest after his childhood memories. They didn't have much money, but they made due and had a son right away. Luke was a reincarnation of his mother... but that must have been why she died from a heart attack. Mikaela was able to bounce back out of his depression because of Luke. He was able to stay firm and not let his parents take Luke away from him. To support his son, Mikaela worked extra hours as a waiter at a rather high-class restaurant. He devoted his life completely to his son... Jonah was back. He had gone and gotten a master's degree from his college and came back just to torture Micah. He came around now and again to wreck at Mikaela's mental state. He never did really fight back against Jonah, the only times he did was when Jonah said things about Luke. Jonah... the man came by one night while Luke was at a sleepover. He was outrageously drunk and overpowered Mikaela, raping him and sprouting insults left and right. Even Jonah felt a little bit bad about that when he woke up, so he paid Mikaela a hefty amount of money to keep him quiet and half-seriously joked about them doing it again every so often.

Nil S'il y avait des preuves que le temps marchait sur le fait qu'on le voulait ou non, Niles ne devait pas chercher plus loin que son ami Zac et ses antiques actuels. Niles n'avait pas su que Zac était si, eh bien, brazen, mais alors, la mémoire de Nils de Zac était encore de retour quand leur plus grande préoccupation était qui était 'il' dans un jeu d'étiquette. C'était il y a une vie. Niles n'appellerait pas exactement ce nouveau comportement "d'affirmation" mais pour l'éternel garçon lacrymogène, comme Nils supposait que Zac serait toujours, il était probablement aussi proche d'affirmation que Zac était susceptible d'obtenir. C'est venu à l'homme plus grand comme un enfant portant les vêtements de son père et agissant adulte. Deux verres, un petit compliment à un tiers, qui semblait être un cas de courage liquide. Quoi qu'il en soit, Niles n'en avait pas beaucoup, soupirant à l'exposition ostentatoire. Si c'était l'idée de Zac de devenir un adulte mature, un acte pour remplacer l'image de l'enfance à jamais brûlée au cerveau, alors il tombait sur les yeux non impressionnés. Niles s'est croisé les bras sur la poitrine, resserrant les yeux pour rencontrer le regard de la vieille connaissance, Niles est sorti alors que quelqu'un en avait marre des antiques enfantines... ou au moins quelqu'un dont la patience était aussi mince que les pailles dans les cocktails. "Vous n'êtes pas à votre place ici," dit Niles, et le 'ici' est venu avec des connotations intentionnellement vagues - bien que Niles parlait dans le sens large du club de nuit - "Vous restez dehors et pas d'une bonne façon. Tu vas être mangé vivant." Niles mis en garde, sonnant toujours trop ennuyé alors qu'il parlait de la musique. Le but de cette explosion soudaine du passé était une conversation. Niles soupçonnait que le discours ne serait pas aussi simple que de dire 'hey', qui est le seul genre de conversation qu'il avait voulu avec ceux qu'il connaissait comme un petit enfant stupide. Mais comme avec un pansement, la bonne chose à faire était simplement de l'enlever rapidement et de faire face à la piqûre momentanée. "VIP Lounge, à l'étage", Nils grimpa, "Cinq minutes. Dis que tu es avec moi, le videur te laissera passer." Niles n'a rien dit d'autre, se tournant à la tête pour la corde hors zone à l'arrière du sol. Comme un pansement. C'est tout ce que c'était. Un pansement.

Niles Blake || 28 || Homosexual, Seme "Whispered something in your ear. It was a perverted thing to say, but I said it anyway. Made you smile and look away..." Birthday September Twenty Second Goal To see if it's true what they say...that you can't go back again...and in so doing making amends with the past, in whatever capacity that comes in. Marriage/Family/Love Life One would have to define relationships first to determine how many Niles has been in. He's been spotted at high profile events but never with his arms around anyone...though that could well be because he knows how to slip out of a crowd arm-in-arm with someone for an hour or two. His relationships, the ones that last longer than a few fun filled weeks and nights, tend to not last more than a handful of months. No pets to be had and the only remaining family he cares to consider is his younger sister, currently slaving away in art school. Occupation Star of the Small Screen; Actor noted for his role on a moderately successful police procedural. Appearance 5'10" 139 lbs He once had a tattoo but had it removed and the scar still lingers, leaving a burn mark on his left shoulder blade. His eyes are a muddy brown, but are anything but dim. The only time he's been seen with facial hair is when his role(s) demand it, otherwise he's as clean cut as one could imagine. His hair, a natural brown, wasn't always so perfectly maintained and straight, and some people remember when Niles had permanent bedhead no matter what he tried. Middleschool/Highschool Clique Niles was one of the band kids. He made first chair cello because he was the only cello player in his year. Past Crush Current Crush Are you in contact with a Rose? Possibly Not Personality Niles is a bit of a smooth talker, quick with a joke and even quicker with an expression of genuine interest. And that's him when the camera isn't running and he isn't spouting far-too-clever lines at a way-too-quick pace. Despite not quite yet being in his thirties, Niles acts as if he's that cool older relative everyone looked up to and loved having over for family events. At least, that's how he presents himself to the ever discerning public eye. Rumors surround him, from co-stars mentioning how much of a perfectionist he is, (to the point where an extra was said to have fled the set in tears after being scolded by Niles) and how he believes that he knows better than the directors or people in charge. Niles positions himself in a power position, making it clear from day one that anything he's involved in will eventually move along according to his own pacing and design. Which, on the plus side, makes him the consummate professional but then does make him hard to work with and even harder to like. And still, despite that, Niles' natural (or seemingly natural) charisma and presence has served him well in his private life. Many claim to have been picked up by Niles but given how the details of his private life (including even his sexual orientation) are just that, private, no one quite knows who is in the know. But Niles has gone on the record on a late night talk show that things are 'going well' in regards to his romantic life. He's not in the closet personally. Just professionally. Short Bio Niles Blake only ever wanted one thing growing up and it was as shallow a want as any other child's. Niles wanted to be cool. But of course, that never seemed to be a possibility. He wanted a bass. He was given cello lessons. He wanted to style his hair after the people in magazines. He came to school once with what could generously be called 'bucket hair'. To his credit, he kept a positive attitude towards his misgivings, mishaps, and overall aura as a well meaning but misinformed dweeb. It helped that he was a naturally funny person, able to shrug off the embarrassments and turn them into endearing stories to be retold and recalled at a reunion years down the line. His parents had a rather amicable divorce when he was near about half finished with high school and his little sister, Becky, was just starting. It was as simple a matter as both mother and father realizing that they didn't love each other and thought it would be better to just...see other people. Niles saw it as his responsibility to watch out for Becky, but realized it would be difficult with him going away after his own brush with what could be considered a 'divorce' of sorts and eventually onto secondary education. Still, the funny, kind of dweebish band kid was always watchful towards those who got close with his sister, which only made things tense between the siblings. Becky just wanted a fun high school life, to make mistakes and such. Niles' life relationships, mainly his familial but even his younger friendly ones, all seemed to be breaking apart which, of course, affected the young Niles. He's since patched things up with Becky (paying for her art school goes a long way) but his lack of meaningful relationships has not gone unnoticed. Rebecca Blake is currently in art school. She operates her own art blog where she takes commissions. Wants to become an animator.

Je n'ai qu'à me blâmer, mais pensez-vous qu'on puisse recommencer? (Pourquoi... Je viens même ici?) L'alcool n'aide pas sa confiance en lui. Zac a regardé Nils... (Vous avez raison... Je n'ai pas ma place ici.) Il devait être fort. A venir jusqu'ici, mais pour quoi? Pour fuir? Niles attendait probablement que ça arrive. Les vieilles habitudes meurent dur, n'est-ce pas? Zac allait-il toujours être vu comme un enfant pour lui? Cela devait être rapide. S'il n'arrêtait pas de s'attarder là-dessus, il devait laisser ses émotions s'emparer de lui. Soupirant à lui-même, il a fait ce que Niles lui a dit et est allé au salon VIP. (Peut-être aurais-je dû demander à Jules de venir? Je ne veux pas être ici...) "Je suis avec Niles Blake..." la confiance était en train de mourir de Zac de plus en plus il est venu à faire face à son fantasme stupide. C'était encore un enfant et Niles pouvait le voir. Un enfant dont le plus proche d'un meilleur ami qu'il avait était sa sœur jumelle et la deuxième personne la plus proche de lui serait Jules, qui a juste fait de la merde aléatoire pour lui dans le passé parce qu'il ne manque jamais d'être si gentil. Un ami était un terme vague pour appeler Julius. Jusqu'à la semaine dernière, ils ne se sont pas vus depuis... cette nuit-là... et avant cette nuit-là, ils ne se sont pas vus depuis que le groupe était ensemble. En regardant sa boisson alors qu'il marchait au coin du salon par un canapé (sans se soucier de s'asseoir), Zac regardait la substance qui lui donnait une sorte de bonheur, engourdissant la douleur qu'il pouvait ressentir sans elle. Perdu dans la pensée, l'homme n'a pas pris la peine d'observer le salon de haute classe. Tout le monde semblait faire du bien pour lui-même. Alver vivait dans la maison de son grand-père et se contentait de ses choix de vie. Micah avait un beau petit garçon qui lui apportait une joie incompréhensible, quels que soient ses problèmes. Julius était plutôt bien parti et aimait son travail d'ingénieur de construction. Genie était sûr de lui-même, même avec son reflet sceptique et leur courte «première» réunion. Enfin, mais jamais le moindre, il y avait Niles, quelqu'un que Zac avait récemment découvert était un acteur décent et avait une belle base de fans à montrer pour son succès. Zac a - t - il vraiment permis à une femme d'assombrir sa perspective et d'ignorer tout son environnement, y compris lui - même? Il ne voulait pas blâmer Scarlet pour s'être éloigné de lui. Qu'est-ce qu'il avait à montrer en tant qu'homme? Il n'avait pas de diplôme, vivait dans un studio que son oncle avait payé il y a des années, utilisait la voiture de ses parents morts, avait un manque d'ambition de poursuivre une carrière dans quelque chose qu'il aimait, et... la seule chose dont il avait la peine de parler était son habileté à cultiver comme barman. Il s'est souvenu de sa troisième année de professeur d'anglais l'encourageant à se divertir peut-être qu'il agisse ou chante ou les deux, mais à l'époque Scarlet était suicidaire. Il ne pouvait pas être égoïste et la laisser... Le voilà encore. Penser à elle. (Elle t'a quitté pour un gars qui pourrait s'occuper d'elle. Comment vous attendez-vous à aller n'importe où si vous ne pouvez même pas prendre soin de vous?) C'est quoi, ça? C'est pour ça qu'il devait faire ça. La seule fois où il a fait des sauts positifs dans sa vie était quand il avait ce merveilleux groupe d'amis. Non, il ne voulait pas les utiliser pour qu'il se sente mieux... pas du tout. Le simple fait de les voir heureux de leur vie serait une source d'inspiration suffisante pour continuer à se frayer un chemin. (Je veux juste savoir qu'ils vont bien... et si? Et si on pouvait être amis à nouveau?) Zac s'est rendu compte qu'il avait été ébranlé pendant une minute ou deux. C'est pas vrai. Temps perdu. En se tournant vers Niles, il a apporté sa main libre à ses cheveux et s'est griffé la tête, "Ouais... désolé. Peut-on parler dans de meilleures circonstances, comme demain? Avez-vous le même e-mail ou une carte de visite snazzy?" En prenant une gorgée de son verre, Zac soupira : « Je ne sais pas trop ce que tu as fait, mais d'après ce que j'ai entendu, tu te débrouilles plutôt bien. » Ses orbes bleues adoucissaient plus il parlait, montrant involontairement qu'il était fier de Niles, "Um, j'ai été un peu... distraite, donc désolé si ce n'est pas le genre de rencontre que vous voudriez." Il a laissé entendre qu'il n'était pas en mesure de traiter l'acteur comme un fan puisqu'il ne serait jamais en mesure de le voir comme un chien de haut niveau qu'il devenait. Les Nils seraient toujours des Nils à Zac, même s'il avait énormément changé au fil des ans. "Je ne devrais pas te garder... Je peux t'envoyer un e-mail ce soir et si je te vois demain, super, mais sinon, ça ira aussi. C'est stupide de toute façon." Il a donné à son vieil ami un sourire faible et bien qu'il mourait de partir, ses pieds se tenaient plantés sur le sol jusqu'à ce que Niles réponde. Tu vois que le problème n'est pas toi, c'est moi que je connais. Je peux le dire, je l'ai vu de temps en temps et je te repousserai.

- snipped - roleplay closed -

Collab avec Julius Graham Julius semblait ignorer les calomnies d'Alver, surtout quand il a donné à Zac un non retentissant. Une frustration rampante l'a frappé puisque l'albinos n'était même pas prêt à donner une chance à l'idée. Ses yeux émeraudes s'envolèrent vers la forme de Zacs et remarquèrent qu'il ne prenait pas le rejet si gentiment non plus. Il y avait une douleur subtile dans ses yeux bleus. Ça l'a réglé pour Julius. Il descendit son sandwich massif en une bouchée, s'élança jusqu'à Alver et commença à traîner l'homme plus grand dans la pièce voisine, une férocité soudaine scintille dans son visage. Un regard de retour à Zac a dit à l'homme aux cheveux longs de rester mis, il 'd s'occuper de cela. Alors que les deux personnes quittaient la pièce, l'homme du visage de bébé s'en alla dans un labyrinthe tout en regardant sa tasse de café. Il a essayé de rêver de choses positives comme Bubba ou son jumeau passant avec des couleurs volantes, mais le matin triste ne lui a fait que la fatigue... La fatigue a généralement apporté les pires pensées en lui. (Il ne m'a même pas... donné une chance. Je sais que c'est un voeu inutile mais...) Regardez, Alver... Il y a plus à cela que juste un "hey" spontané, laissez-les rassembler l'équipage. Zac... Il a vraiment besoin d'aide. Comme vraiment, vraiment, REALLY a besoin de gens dans sa vie, et il ne peut pas juste être moi..Soudainement, la blonde a sorti son téléphone et a tenu un de ses longs doigts pour faire taire l'homme aux cheveux blancs devant lui. En allant à son email, il a sorti un message enregistré d'il y a un mois. Récemment, Zac était... à son plus bas niveau. Je veux dire, c'est ce qu'il m'a envoyé il y a seulement un mois. Fais-moi chier. Elle me manque, Julius... je me déteste et je veux juste mourir. Pourquoi les gens ne peuvent-ils pas rester avec moi? Je sais... je suis le problème... je déteste ça. Je me déteste. Je suis vraiment soûl. Et j'ai été saoul... pour... je ne m'en souviens pas. Je suis un gros tas de rien. Je vais juste prendre un couteau à mes poignets... Julius s'est évanoui, grimaçant la brutalité du prochain paragraphe et demi. En décidant que c'était plus qu'Alver n'avait besoin d'entendre, ses orbes vertes flottaient sur le visage des albinos et le laissaient prendre tout cela. Soupirant, l'homme musclé a couru une main dans ses cheveux et a ensuite glissé une main dans sa poche pour récupérer une carte de visite étonnamment fantaisiste de son portefeuille. Ici. Nous ferons quelque chose demain soir. Envoyez-moi un mail ou appelez-moi avec votre décision. Ça signifierait le monde pour lui si vous veniez. Même si c'est juste pour ce soir-là, il sera heureux, d'accord?.. Julius a mis la main sur l'épaule d'Alver et lui a donné un petit sourire, en s'assurant qu'il n'y avait pas de sentiments difficiles. Avec cela, il a tourné sur son talon et est retourné vers la porte, en faisant savoir à Zac qu'il était temps de partir maintenant avec un geste de la main courbée. Ravie de vous avoir vu, Al. Je ne peux pas croire que tu sois plus grand que moi maintenant! Alors que Julius se tenait là, applaudissant la performance de Zac, il a remarqué un homme blond aux yeux bleus qui sortait en plein air. Étrangement, l'ouvrier assez court mais très mignon semblait avoir été poussé aux larmes par son meilleur pote chantant, quelque chose que l'ancien amateur de sport n'avait jamais vu se produire en public. Je veux dire, Zac est bon... mais peut-être pas Céline Dion bon. Pas encore, de toute façon. Certaines personnes étaient juste plus sensibles que d'autres. De son côté, les baristas qui avaient quitté leur poste étaient finalement de retour au travail, accomplissant furieusement son ordre avec la vitesse d'un jaguar ravivé. Cependant, une des filles a pris un moment pour regarder leur manager, seulement pour le voir debout dans l'allée et pleurer. "Micah"? Avez-vous besoin d'un mouchoir? – Elle a demandé d'une voix concernée. "Micah?" Julius clignait un moment, stupéfait par la révélation. Comme s'il était possédé par un démon, l'homme bruissant était lié à son vieux camarade. Dans un mouvement incroyable, ses deux bras musculaires embrassèrent le petit homme et menaçèrent d'écraser la vie de lui de la pure joie ressentie par Julius. Regarde-toi! Tu es si petite! Et tes yeux! Ils ne m'étranglent plus! Quand Luke a planté un doux baiser sur la joue de bébé-adultes, Zac n'a pas pu aider mais avoir un léger rougissement sur son visage. Ce gamin était absolument précieux! Levez-vous, l'homme aux cheveux longs a gentiment demandé à l'enfant, si vous m'emmenez à lui? J'adorerais dire à ton papa à quel point tu as été bon pour moi.A mesure que le garçon à oeil de lavande touchait la main de son nouvel ami, Zac a pris le biscuit de la table et en a pris une belle, grosse morsure. Avec une satisfaction évidente, l'homme a applaudi, C'est délicieux! Comme Zac a été conduit à l'arrière, son sourcil s'est levé lorsque Julius est allé directement à sa destination et le petit gars se dirigeait vers. Les choses ont commencé à cliquer quand elles sont arrivées et Jules a annoncé que le père de l'enfant était Mikaela, tout en l'écraser dans une étreinte d'ours. C'est pas vrai! Micah est ton père, petit gars!? Oh attends... comme c'est impoli de ma part. Comment tu t'appelles, mon pote? Avec un regard serein, il regardait Luke. Tout avait un sens maintenant. Il pouvait voir son ami d'enfance dans ce charmant garçon. Mignon, petit, et avec un grand sourire lumineux. Incapable de résister, Zac a étouffé les adorables cheveux de son fils. Julius a finalement lâché son vieux compagnon sur ses pieds, une expression glorieuse qui s'est étendue sur son visage. En tandem, sa main a atteint et coupé les cheveux de Micaela, tandis qu'un scénario similaire se passait avec Zac et Luc. Oh, c'est vrai! Pourquoi nous sommes ici! Zac et moi avions entendu que vous travailliez ici, et nous voulions vous inviter cordialement à une rencontre que nous avons demain. Ce sera probablement Zac, moi, mon amie Erika, et qui que ce soit d'autre décide de venir. C'est presque Halloween, et, tu sais, nous avons juste besoin d'un changement de rythme. Surtout Zac. Donc... autant inviter un vieil ami et le rattraper, n'est-ce pas? Avant même que Micah puisse parler, Julius sortait déjà une carte de visite de son portefeuille. Je sais que c'est une sorte de court préavis, mais ici c'est ma carte. Il y a mon e-mail et mon numéro dessus, alors laissez-moi savoir quelque chose d'ici ce soir! Oui! Nous allons vous donner plus de deets ce soir! En supposant que vous avez le même e-mail... sinon, nous allons devoir attendre votre e-mail. Derrière lui, un fort crash a été entendu, et un regard en arrière sur le comptoir principal a vu que l'un des baristas avait fait un terrible désordre. Il y avait du café partout sur le sol et d'une façon ou d'une autre il avait même obtenu sur le plafond. Cinglant au désastre, Julius a donné à son ami un regard apologétique. Je crois qu'on va te laisser retourner au travail. Je lui donne une tape de sport à l'arrière, le grand homme s'est envolé pour Zac, en mouvementant il était temps de partir. C'était probablement mieux d'oublier son café et ses pâtisseries... qu'ils aient un vrai déjeuner quelque part.

Full Name: Julius Kaisar Graham Birthday 3/15 Age 29 Formula and Sexuality Uke and Closeted Homosexual Goal Gaining the courage to present himself as a homosexual. Marriage/Family/Love Life He has been in precisely one relationship before: one with a woman who he never really felt attracted to, but he felt obligated to date a woman due to his father's constant pestering. Surprisingly, the relationship lasted three years, but his girlfriend eventually left him due to a lack of intimacy. They still remain best friends though, perhaps because she knows he's into men. Other than that, he has a single Pomeranian named Lyla. Occupation Construction Engineer Appearance 6'3" 220lbs Middleschool/Highschool Clique Jock Past Crush Leave this empty until we have a full cast. Did you confess? Were you confessed to? How did that moment change you? Yes you can like the same person as someone else. Current Crush Leave this empty. Are you in contact with a Rose? He has them all added on Facebook, Twitter, etc. and messages them every now and then, even if they don't reply. Personality Though Julius looks nothing short of intimidating, he's a big teddy bear. He's a very happy-go-lucky man who encourages his friends to shoot for the stars and supports them the whole way. He is also quite benevolent, such as going out of his way to help his men on construction sites though he isn't required to. Many consider Julius an upstanding citizen. Despite his demeanor, he is an emotionally withdrawn man. Julius rarely talks about his past or how he feels, unless someone manages to coerce it out of him, although he encourages his circle to come to him with their problems. He vehemently denies any interest in men and acts as "manly" as his father taught him. However, he secretly finds the same sex attractive, but he is afraid of being negatively judged by others and ultimately, his dad. Short Bio Julius has always been under his father's thumb. Since a young boy, he was taught what a man ought to be, the distinct line between men and women, and the fire and brimstone end that awaited homosexuals. His mother was always too shy and timid, a more traditional woman, and had little to do with his upbringing. Though he originally wanted to pursue more artistic hobbies in his youth, Julius was forced to play sports, primarily basketball. While he was quite good at it, basketball was never the forefront of his interests, and time and time again he attempted to be some kind of artist. Every time he picked up a pencil to draw or write, his dad would punish him severely though. "Real mean don't do that pansy crap" was the lesson he learned and quickly abandoned any hope of becoming an artist. He was constantly pushed into the athletic circle of friends in grade and middle school, although he did manage to make great companions outside of that clique. It was around this time that Julius began to feel an attraction to the same sex. He tried to push these feelings away, desperately wanting to please his dad. When high school came around, he was all but swamped by basketball. That was the only thing that mattered to his father: being the best player out there. Julius no longer had any free time to hang out with his old friends and they quickly lost touch, although he tried his best to keep connected somehow. By the time he graduated, he had a full scholarship to play basketball for one of the most prestigious colleges out there. Rather than take the easy way out and earn a basic degree, Julius aimed to become an engineer. Juggling between his rigorous training schedule and school, his life became hell. He rarely had any free time, but eventually, he made it out of college alive. More than that, he was projected to be one of the top drafts for professional basketball. His father was ecstatic, finally proud to call him his son. Indeed, Julius was the 5th drafted player and was given a considerable sum as part of his contract. Playing professional ball was surprisingly thrilling, but it came to an end rather fast. Before the start of his second season, he was seriously injured. His ACL was torn and there was no way he'd be able to return until next season. Rather than wait it out though, Julius finally found an opportunity to exit this career. It didn't take long for him to make some phone calls and find a job as a construction engineer. Since then, he has enjoyed a rather quiet life. He is mostly content with everything right now although he does wish he could face his fear of coming out...

À la minute où Julius se déplaçait, Alver claquait son regard de lavande vers lui, recommençant à se serrer alors qu'il s'approchait et traîné l'homme plus grand dans une autre pièce. Une fois qu'ils ont été, Alver s'est retiré de la blonde et leur a donné une distance confortable tout en lissant ses vêtements. "Langue." il s'est moqué immédiatement de ce qu'il avait à dire lorsqu'on a dit "crap" avant de continuer à écouter ce qu'avait à dire l'homme voyou. L'homme pâle ouvrit la bouche pour se retourner contre les paroles de Julius, mais la ferma comme l'homme plus court levait un doigt de silence alors qu'il sortait son téléphone. Honnêtement, Alver n'était pas sûr pourquoi exactement ils étaient si déterminés à le faire participer à ce plan. Il était sûr, que les autres seraient assez pour réconforter Zac, et étaient probablement mieux compagnie. Plus sûr. Pas dangereux... pas un gaspillage d'espace. Pathétique. C'est dégoûtant. Un désastre de marche. Anormal. Tout ce qu'il n'était pas. Il avait ses raisons de garder sa distance avec le petit garçon girly. Il était plus sûr comme ça. Mieux sans lui. Ils l'étaient tous. Ils devraient l'oublier. Qu'il disparaisse parmi les souvenirs brumeux. Alver pensait qu'ils le feraient maintenant, comme il y a si longtemps maintenant. Écouter Julius a lu ce qui semblait être le message de Zachary, un doux froncement mélancolique a traversé le visage fantôme du grand homme. Honnêtement, Zachary était toujours un enfant. Un bébé. Qui avait besoin de quelqu'un pour tenir sa main, et maintenant il voulait que son équipe d'enfance revienne le faire. Il a rendu difficile de dire "non" quand c'était pour son propre bien. Pourtant, autant que l'albinos voulait être ferme dans son "non", il trouvait cela plus difficile maintenant. Une partie de lui voulait aider, prendre soin de Zac et le remettre sur pied. Alver n'était pas sûr qu'il le pouvait, mais il le ressentait encore. L'homme pâle a pris la carte, lui donnant un bref examen tandis que son regard pâle de lavande rétrécissait délicatement. Alver s'inclina légèrement lorsque Julius leva la main, comme s'il se préparait à être frappé physiquement, mais son ami d'enfance ne le plaça sur son épaule que de la manière amicale habituelle. En regardant silencieusement Julius et en suivant légèrement ses adieux et en partant avec Zachary, Alver regarda avant de fermer la porte et de la verrouiller avant de donner un soupir exaspéré profond avant de regarder à nouveau la carte de visite. Il n'y avait pas moyen qu'il y aille. Pas vrai? Mais ce n'était qu'une nuit. Et c'était la nuit, pas comme s'il devait s'inquiéter de la lumière du jour. Qu'est-ce qu'il devait faire? La socialisation en tant qu'adultes était beaucoup plus difficile que les enfants. Surtout quand on essaie de réconforter et de montrer à un ancien ami un bon moment. Comment était-il censé accomplir ça dans les concombres? C'est lui, la personne la moins sociale de cette ville? Peut-être qu'il dormirait dessus... En lui donnant un autre soupir, Alver est retourné dans sa chambre, plaçant la carte de visite sur son beau stand avant de se coucher. Curling et câlin sous les couvertures. En regardant attentivement le plafond, il réfléchissait à ce qui venait de se passer. Absent de caresser un félin gris qui avait décidé de sauter et de se boucler à côté de lui. En fermant les yeux, il a saisi un de ses autres oreillers et l'a pressé contre son visage alors qu'il essayait continuellement de se forcer à simplement aller dormir. Les ténèbres roulaient, et l'homme pâle continuait de se coucher là. Je réfléchis. Il n'avait pas envie de travailler en ce moment. Un autre soupir s'est échappé de lui avant qu'il ne sorte du lit et n'attrape ses lunettes et sa carte de visite. Il a glissé les lunettes en montant dans sa salle de travail. Assis à son bureau, il a allumé l'ordinateur. En scrutant son email, il a froncé en regardant la carte de visite avant de donner un autre soupir profond. "Ce n'est qu'une nuit. Une nuit. C'est tout. Rien de plus. Je peux le faire. Il suffit d'être l'adulte mûr que vous êtes et de les divertir au meilleur de votre capacité. Juste une nuit. Alors je peux retourner dans l'obscurité. Miky sera là... mais ce n'est pas grave d'être un adulte mûr charmant comme un prince d'anime. Ou quelque chose. Ça va aller, ça fait des années. Je peux le faire. Juste une nuit... juste pour le bien d'un ami passé et pour les aider à se lever un peu." Il murmurait, sans s'en rendre compte, légèrement hyperventilant. Respirant profondément, il a commencé à taper et a envoyé un email à Julius. "Très bien. Une seule nuit. Je viendrai." Il a tapé avant de l'envoyer avant de changer d'avis. Il a essayé de penser aux possibilités de cette soirée. Qu'est-ce qu'ils allaient faire? Clanquant vers l'immense collection d'anime, l'homme aux cheveux blancs s'arrêta avant de se tenir debout et commença à naviguer. Sortir certains livres de manga et commencer rapidement à faire'recherche' au mieux de ses capacités. Prépare-toi à demain soir.

Birthday October 31st Age 26 Formula and Sexuality Versatile and Homosexual Goal To be a little more out of shell. Do what friends do. Hangout and things. Or attempt to. Marriage/Family/Love Life Has been in one relationship four years ago. But he shut himself in after the break up. Has a grey she-cat named Miko. His father, having died when Alver was fifteen, was a kind man. While his mother still lives working as a policewoman. Rarely home. Occupation Writer/Manga Artist/Artist Appearance Height: 7'0 Weight: 160 lb Other prominent traits: His skin is ghostly pale, odd lavender colored eyes that occasionally change depending on the angle with the sunlight. White hair. Often wears a pair of glasses or contacts. Despite being tall, he's pretty skinny and almost looks fragile. But he can still pull off a judo move or two. Middleschool/Highschool Clique He's the nerdy, introvert sort of person. Past Crush He had a crush on Mikaela Winter during his school years. Alver felt a silent connection or familiarity towards his childhood friend. Perhaps because they both were... off in their own way. Bullied, misjudged. Alver didn't particularly have much hesitation when he figured out what he was feeling, and ended up confessing. Yet he was turned down. Heartbroken and crushed, he felt a bit bitter yet he just smiled in response. Then his father died, and the combination of grief assisted in secluding himself from everyone. Current Crush ----- Are you in contact with a Rose? No. Personality Alver is sort of quiet at first, mostly because he starts out suspicious of other people due to what his parents often warned him about and his previous encounters. Due to this, he can be sarcastic, sometimes a smart-ass, and let out a bit more of his dark sarcastic humor. He's also sometimes a bit mean and bitter when it comes to people who seem to feel overly sorry for themselves. He doesn't mean to be cruel, it just comes out that way. However, he's a pretty mature, sweet and kind boy who's rather calm most of the time. Pretty level headed, and doesn't enjoy fights. He's naturally curious and adventurous and enjoys wandering about often, seeming to ignore any possible danger. Although he doesn't have a lot of social skills and finds it difficult on how to talk to others, he does want other people's company even for a little bit. Having been secluded most of his life. But he's always willing to lend a friendly ear to those who feel down, giving his own friendly advice and opinions. Quite a fatherly/brotherly figure towards those younger than him. He loves flowers, stargazing, singing and playing the piano. As well as practicing Judo his father taught him. He also likes animals. Despite his overall kind nature, he can be mischievous and enjoys teasing others and has a little bit of dark humor. Despite others not usually enjoying his presence and sometimes hating his own appearance, he has a small bit of pride in his looks and never really attempts hiding his hair anymore, even growing it out into a longer length. He also enjoys taking advantage of those who are a bit scared of him from the 'demonic, ghost, vampire' rumors. He is however quite a bit naïve. Mostly a introvert during the day, and spending most of his time drawing or reading, he's not very good with technology or picking up certain things. He hasn't watched many movies, or adventured the internet other than strictly for work, sayings usually fly over his head, and he usually thinks his looks drive people away, so he never notices if people actually find him attractive. He's neat and organized, his house quite tidy and doesn't quite enjoy a mess. Though usually is the one who always cleans up even if the mess isn't his. Though he does enjoy wearing loose clothes as they are comfy. Likes cute things (including people). Short Bio On the day of Halloween, October 31st, gave birth to a boy with striking white hair and very pale white skin. Eyes a pretty light lavender color that often seemed to change color depending on where the light struck them. Sometimes lavender, sometimes a very light pale blue, and even a tinge of red people would say. His parents were quite shocked to see such a pale baby and wondered if he was just unhealthy, having never seen someone as pale as a ghost. He wasn't, the was just born with the gene of extremely rare pigments of a albino. So, his mother named him Alver, meaning "White" in Latin-American, along to fit with his last name, Rozu meaning Rose. His parents worried over his well being, as the doctors gave them proper diagnostics of possible defects of albinos, as well as studying their own research. They feared he would burn easily and wouldn't be able to see well since he had such low pigments in his eyes. So he was quite sheltered as a child. His parents often trying to keep him indoors and away from people, in fear of others reaction. As well as not wanting their son to burn easily or hurt his eyes further. Alver however was the curious sort. He wanted to go outside, play, interact with the other children. Including going to school like everybody else. In which case, his parents relented as long as he wore a hoodie, brought a umbrella and sunglasses with him. Of course this made him look a bit more awkward. His father died when Alver was fifteen, and his mother spends most her time working as a policewoman. Through his time in public school, he was often bullied for his looks. But he stayed around and put up with it so he could be with his friends. However, when his friendships fell apart... So did he. Unable to handle it and becoming bitter over people, he left public school to be home schooled. Shutting out the world and finding comfort in his own tiny one. When he was fifteen year old and he was out playing by himself, he was kidnapped by a group of shady people. His parents were of course on the case and hunted them down, however, during the rescue, Son Rozu was shot in the crossfire and bled out. He lost his father that day and he blames himself for it. This was what really made him shut and push everyone away. Not wanting to put others in danger just because of how he looked. He didn't want to see someone else bleed and die in front of him like his father. Especially someone he cared about. As a adult after his friendship broke with his childhood friends and his father's death, he more or less secluded himself from people as much as possible. Save the occasional few from work. Other *He has sensitive hearing and sense of smell. So he doesn't like loud places or strong smelling areas. *He likes to play piano and sing occasionally. *He enjoys cooking and is actually quite good at it. *He'a a bit of a clean freak and his house is kept tidy. *A habit of is that he takes care of others. Makes sure people are well fed, makes sure their clothes are straight, makes sure they have what they need. It's why he was taken advantage of by bullies as he'd usually 'help' them with their homework or give away his lunch. That and he his friends usually poked fun at how he could be a mother hen. *He has a high dislike/fear of any vehicle and usually avoids using them. *If ever he goes out in sunlight, he wears light colored clothes, sunglasses, and has a umbrella to protect himself. *He likes cloudy or rainy days. *He enjoys painting, and occasionally, he paints his childhood friends when they were kids. *He's quite the dork really. Loves manga and comic books and the occasional video game. Though most he can't quite play as his eyes can't handle them very well. Most of the older games he could though. Theme Song(s) Pompeii by Bastille Away From The Sun by 3 Doors Down Answer Coward Montblanc (Acquaintance / Friend / Close Friend / Best Friend / Love Interest / Boyfriend-Girlfriend / Ex / Enemy) Zachary Harper Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "When we were kids, Harpy and Miky were pretty much the kids of the group. I remember Harpy was so adorable and looked like such a girl. It's a reason I called him Harpy. For his last name and to tease his feminine features. Still, he was a bit of a baby and I often found myself trying to baby him. He was a bit of a scatter brain though. Honestly, I swear he needed other people to take care of him. I didn't really mind when he needed attention though... Hope at least nowadays he can stand on his own." Genie Fulton Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "If I was the calm one, GG the Pup was the temperamental one. He could get loud and I swear you even hint at a competition, he'd jump at the chance. He even tried to beat me at painting. That was messy. We'd butt heads occasionally, but to me he was like a large dog. Lots of barking, but was loyal and cute when he wanted to be. And despite his temperament, I knew he was someone I could rely on back then." Julius Graham Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "Awe Teddy. Such a cute kid. Despite the big guy he was lovable like a teddy bear. Adorable in his own way, course he didn't always enjoy it when I teased him about it. Always saying he was totally manly or something. But I liked him when he showed his true colors. When I painted, he would watch me sometimes, but whenever I offered for him to try, he'd just refuse. It was a pity. I still think of him fondly even now when I paint. Thinking his cheerful self would probably brighten this lonely house." Mikaela Winter Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend/First Crush "Miky... He had always been such a cutie. Despite being older then me, I just wanted to coddle him, protect him and make him smile. He was just so... Breathtaking is what comes to mind. It's hard to describe. When we were young, he spoke of such interesting fantasies sometimes. I wanted to paint them. Draw them. See what he saw. Course I couldn't quite replicate it, but it was nice trying. I was drawn to him unknowingly at first until we reached middle school years. Perhaps it was because his eyes were a little odd like mine... Or he was just odd as I was. So I got a little brave with some encouragement and confessed. I was rejected however. I knew that such a thing was possible, but I guess in my heart I was hoping for something straight out of a romantic book or a shounen manga. I also didn't realize how much it would hurt. And it really hurt. Cause the combination of fear, guilt, and bitterness held my heart. I was afraid I had just ruined our life long friendship. Guilty that I made Miky uncomfortable... And bitter that he didn't accept me. I knew it wasn't his fault, I did really. I hated myself for thinking that. I didn't want my friends to see the disgusting side of me. So I ran away. Like a coward and just ended up destroying my friendships. Thinking to myself 'they are better off without me. No one needs me. I'll just do what my kind does. Ghosts disappear.' So that's what I did. Disappear from their lives, letting them live them. It was fine. I'll be okay alone. Everything was better that way." Niles Blake Past and Present Relationship: Childhood Friend "Coolio was a fun kid. He generally was just fun to be around. A bit silly.. Whenever we got in trouble, he was pretty much the one that talked us out of it. Then was able to laugh about it later. I had to fix his hair sometimes. It always felt he just royally messed it up. He just laughed at about anything though. It warmed the heart really." Lucas Adolf Past and Present Relationship: Ex-Boyfriend "He's crude... insensitive... a jerk... and at times cruel. Yet he could show such kindness sometimes. He always had a talent at pulling my heartstrings. Guess in a way... he gave me a sense of belonging."

Nil Les Nils détestaient les salons de ce genre d'endroits, même s'il les utilisait souvent pour s'éloigner et échapper à l'œil du public pendant une heure environ. L'attrait du salon VIP a été perdu dès que vous avez été autorisé à entrer. L'appel a toujours été le mystère de ce qui s'est passé derrière la corde de velours et les types réguliers qui ne seraient jamais admis ont aimé inventer de petites histoires. Ils ont toujours été si obscènes dans la nature ; dans les boîtes de nuit plus ensemencées, les salons VIP ont toujours eu la rumeur désagréable d'être un endroit où des gens riches et célèbres allaient... se détendre de quelque façon que ce soit. Mais Niles connaissait la vérité. Tous les salons étaient des endroits où la musique n'était pas bruyante, il y avait en fait des endroits pour s'asseoir, et les collations étaient gratuites. Il est arrivé avant que Zac ne l'ait fait et a pris place dans la chaise de salon noire, s'enfoncer dans elle - ils étaient tout à fait à l'aise toutes choses considérées - et soupirer. Il ne comprenait pas pourquoi Zac était venu dans un endroit comme celui-ci. Niles l'avait voulu quand il a dit que Zac n'avait pas sa place ici, dans ce monde, dans ce club... même s'il projetait peut-être l'image qu'il avait de son ancien ami. Une fois un enfant dans l'esprit de Niles, toujours un enfant. Le temps était passé. Le temps change les choses. Les gens changent avec le temps. Mais même s'il a vu Zac grandir... il ne croyait toujours pas que Zac avait appartenu ici. C'était un acte? Il devait l'être; le gars a commandé un coup de feu, il y avait deux raisons de commander un coup de feu: célébrer quelque chose ou obtenir un coup rapide de courage liquide. Niles doutait que Zac soit là pour célébrer quoi que ce soit. Quand Zac a fait son chemin à l'étage, Niles a prêté plus d'attention à tous les récits évidents. Les yeux qui le regardaient retournaient vers le côté plus doux que Niles connaissait mieux, les pauses maladroites dans son discours, le grattage de ses cheveux, le recul soudain... Niles avait raison. Zac ne voulait pas être ici. Zac voulait partir et Niles ne pouvait pas lui en vouloir. -- Eh bien, qui est-ce? Niles a répondu, sa voix ne vacillant pas du tout, "Vous allez m'envoyer un email mais vous ne connaissez pas mon adresse e-mail? Tu voulais parler, mais maintenant tu ne le fais pas? Tu n'as pas entendu ce que j'ai fait mais tu sais que je vais bien? Arrête ça. Il n'y a rien de plus ennuyeux que quelqu'un qui ne sait pas ce qu'il veut." Niles ne semblait pas s'inquiéter que ses mots puissent très bien ressortir comme grossier, il avait adopté le même ton qu'il aurait utilisé contre un réalisateur d'un épisode qui ne savait pas quel objectif utiliser ou comment tourner une scène. "Tu voulais me parler pour une raison. Alors fais-le. Parle. Parle ou marche, ça n'a pas d'importance pour moi." D'une façon ou d'une autre, Niles voulait arriver à la fin de ce voyage dans la voie de la mémoire.

Niles Blake || 28 || Homosexual, Seme "Whispered something in your ear. It was a perverted thing to say, but I said it anyway. Made you smile and look away..." Birthday September Twenty Second Goal To see if it's true what they say...that you can't go back again...and in so doing making amends with the past, in whatever capacity that comes in. Marriage/Family/Love Life One would have to define relationships first to determine how many Niles has been in. He's been spotted at high profile events but never with his arms around anyone...though that could well be because he knows how to slip out of a crowd arm-in-arm with someone for an hour or two. His relationships, the ones that last longer than a few fun filled weeks and nights, tend to not last more than a handful of months. No pets to be had and the only remaining family he cares to consider is his younger sister, currently slaving away in art school. Occupation Star of the Small Screen; Actor noted for his role on a moderately successful police procedural. Appearance 5'10" 139 lbs He once had a tattoo but had it removed and the scar still lingers, leaving a burn mark on his left shoulder blade. His eyes are a muddy brown, but are anything but dim. The only time he's been seen with facial hair is when his role(s) demand it, otherwise he's as clean cut as one could imagine. His hair, a natural brown, wasn't always so perfectly maintained and straight, and some people remember when Niles had permanent bedhead no matter what he tried. Middleschool/Highschool Clique Niles was one of the band kids. He made first chair cello because he was the only cello player in his year. Past Crush Current Crush Are you in contact with a Rose? Possibly Not Personality Niles is a bit of a smooth talker, quick with a joke and even quicker with an expression of genuine interest. And that's him when the camera isn't running and he isn't spouting far-too-clever lines at a way-too-quick pace. Despite not quite yet being in his thirties, Niles acts as if he's that cool older relative everyone looked up to and loved having over for family events. At least, that's how he presents himself to the ever discerning public eye. Rumors surround him, from co-stars mentioning how much of a perfectionist he is, (to the point where an extra was said to have fled the set in tears after being scolded by Niles) and how he believes that he knows better than the directors or people in charge. Niles positions himself in a power position, making it clear from day one that anything he's involved in will eventually move along according to his own pacing and design. Which, on the plus side, makes him the consummate professional but then does make him hard to work with and even harder to like. And still, despite that, Niles' natural (or seemingly natural) charisma and presence has served him well in his private life. Many claim to have been picked up by Niles but given how the details of his private life (including even his sexual orientation) are just that, private, no one quite knows who is in the know. But Niles has gone on the record on a late night talk show that things are 'going well' in regards to his romantic life. He's not in the closet personally. Just professionally. Short Bio Niles Blake only ever wanted one thing growing up and it was as shallow a want as any other child's. Niles wanted to be cool. But of course, that never seemed to be a possibility. He wanted a bass. He was given cello lessons. He wanted to style his hair after the people in magazines. He came to school once with what could generously be called 'bucket hair'. To his credit, he kept a positive attitude towards his misgivings, mishaps, and overall aura as a well meaning but misinformed dweeb. It helped that he was a naturally funny person, able to shrug off the embarrassments and turn them into endearing stories to be retold and recalled at a reunion years down the line. His parents had a rather amicable divorce when he was near about half finished with high school and his little sister, Becky, was just starting. It was as simple a matter as both mother and father realizing that they didn't love each other and thought it would be better to just...see other people. Niles saw it as his responsibility to watch out for Becky, but realized it would be difficult with him going away after his own brush with what could be considered a 'divorce' of sorts and eventually onto secondary education. Still, the funny, kind of dweebish band kid was always watchful towards those who got close with his sister, which only made things tense between the siblings. Becky just wanted a fun high school life, to make mistakes and such. Niles' life relationships, mainly his familial but even his younger friendly ones, all seemed to be breaking apart which, of course, affected the young Niles. He's since patched things up with Becky (paying for her art school goes a long way) but his lack of meaningful relationships has not gone unnoticed. Rebecca Blake is currently in art school. She operates her own art blog where she takes commissions. Wants to become an animator.

Il a fallu une seconde après que son collègue lui ait demandé s'il avait besoin d'un tissu avant de revenir à la réalité. "Non, ça va... Désolé, je ne sais pas... Aïe... L'ami d'enfance Mikaela avait inconsciemment évité est venu et a commencé à l'écraser avec un énorme câlin. Il n'y avait pas beaucoup de gens qui étaient si grands et forts dans la vie de Micah alors il n'avait pas eu un câlin comme ça depuis un moment. Mikaela a-t-elle déjà été coincée comme ça? Hank lui a donné une gifle sur le dos ou un câlin latéral, mais rien de tel. Oh ma chère, il était de nouveau en train d'avoir les yeux lacrymogènes. Ses yeux berçaient Julius, c'était un peu troublant. Ses yeux ont montré, faites savoir à tout le monde, qu'il était un monstre, donc un petit bout de douleur s'est glissé dans sa poitrine. Il savait que la blonde ne voulait rien dire par là, mais les expériences traumatisantes qu'il avait eues à cause de ses yeux le plaguaient encore. Luke prit la main de Zac, son visage s'enfonce dans un énorme sourire et ses yeux scrutent le comptoir pour son papa. Il voulait vraiment que papa rencontre cette nouvelle jolie personne! Il s'est précipité sur ses petites jambes vers le dos, glissant à travers la foule de gens qui commençaient à retourner à leur café et à leurs desserts. La barista... Comment s'appelait-elle déjà? - Il a appelé le nom de son père pour qu'il pivote vers cette direction. Qui câlinait son père? Il ressemblait presque à un ours géant et il avait un peu peur de Luke. Zac disait quelque chose sur la connaissance de Papa, il semblait qu'ils étaient amis, mais Mikaela n'avait jamais parlé de l'un ou l'autre des deux hommes. Les cheveux de Luke ont soudainement été étouffés et sa tête a été teintée par le toucher de Zac. "L-Luc, mon nom est Luke." Ok, sur le sol maintenant. Cela voulait dire qu'il était censé se concentrer, sortir de son cerveau et revenir à la réalité. Zac était là et Julius, ses deux frères! « Ça fait très longtemps... » dit-il, embarrassé puisqu'il s'est souvenu qu'il n'avait jamais dit au revoir. Ses cheveux ont été soudainement coupés, ce qui s'est réellement produit beaucoup. S'il avait été quelque chose comme sa mère, il aurait été en colère pour sa coiffure aurait été merdique. Mais les cheveux de Micah ont déjà fait ce qu'il voulait, alors peu importe. Demain soir, il n'avait pas de travail, on aurait dit le destin. Il aurait probablement besoin de trouver quelqu'un pour prendre soin de Luke pour la nuit, ce ne serait pas une bonne idée pour un si jeune garçon d'être dehors si tard. Luke serait déjà sorti jusqu'à dix ans pour Halloween. Avec seulement Zac, Julius, et quelques autres... ce ne serait pas si mal. Mikaela sourit, pensant qu'un bon rattrapage serait génial! Quand Julius a-t-il eu son portefeuille? Ce n'était pas comme s'il avait gardé beaucoup d'argent sur lui en premier lieu, le nouveau Julius a dû secrètement être quelque peu rusé. Mikaela avait un nouveau courriel, il avait fait tout ce qu'il pouvait pour se séparer de sa vie dans la maison d'hiver. "Oh, ok, je vais t'envoyer un message le-" Il ne semblait pas qu'il se passait quelque chose d'important, alors la vie a décidé de lui donner une gifle sur le dos. L'une des baristas a glissé sur la farine qui n'avait pas été emportée par la cuisson de ce matin et elle a laissé tomber tout ce qu'elle tenait. Comment aurait-il sorti le café du plafond... le visage de Micah est devenu pâle. Avec la pate un peu sournoise sur le cul, Julius et Zac l'ont fait sortir de là. Luke a piqué, Zac et ce gros gars un peu en avant partaient, "J'espère qu'on se reverra bientôt!" Les joues de Mikaela se sont enflées alors qu'il regardait la blonde partir. Le manager ne savait même pas comment réagir à quelque chose comme ça. Heureusement, les baristas n'avaient pas vu le mouvement, ayant été si occupés à nettoyer, ou ils auraient taquiné le pauvre père jusqu'à ce que son visage n'arrête jamais de rougir. Ne t'attarde pas là-dessus... Micah a dû retourner au travail. Il a étouffé les cheveux de Luke et a demandé à tous les employés de continuer à travailler et il l'a nettoyé.

Name Mikaela Winter Nickname Micah Birthday November 7th Age 29 Formula and Sexuality Uke II Heterosexual turned bisexual Goal Be able to support his son and give him the life he deserves. To be able to connect with his true "family" again. Family (Third person POV from his father's perspective) The Winter Family is known for being one of the most prestigious families of Willow Valley. They only had one boy they named Mikaela after the boy's great grandfather. His father never really approved of him, and did everything to kick that unpredictable imagination out of him and groom him into the successor he was meant to be. During middle school, this behavior got worse, his son was mixing up fantasy and reality. Thinking that these would be his last free years, his father let him be on his own. Once Mikaela arrived in high school, work was to be done. He had private tutors that would make him work all the hours of the night after school. He was always made to be in the top three places in school. Someone was influencing the successor, his grades were dropping drastically, he would shut himself into his room after school. He came home one day with cuts all over his face... His father immediately sent him to a boarding school. His heir would not be so weak! After two years of schooling, Mikaela pleaded with his father to let him come home, be with his mother who was having arthritis, gaining the proper social skills of an adult. Mikaela was allowed to go to a public college. There he met Emily, his forbidden love. His father tried to reason with his successor, the vixen was praying on his weak son. Finally, his father threw him out, disowning him. Once his wife was out of the picture. Mikaela's father did reach out a hand to his dreadful son, saying he would forget the past and adopt Luke, but Mikaela refused. Marriage/Love During college, Mikaela met a girl named Emily that was his only hope in the world. His angel was just a normal college girl that could never be accepted by his parents. Mikaela was disowned from the family, but he didn't care. Mikaela was married for a short period of three years from when he was 22 to 26, but his wife died 3 years ago. Emily had been suffering from a hereditary heart disease since she was young and passed away with no other family. He had one baby boy named Luke. Mikaela never did have any other relationship besides his marriage. There was a time in middle school... But that never did go anywhere. His son was born with lighter lavender eyes that came from his father and blonde hair. Luke has a habit of milking his cuteness, but always ends up taking care of his papa. Luke is exceptional at cleaning and housework, more of the time taking care of his dad than the other way around. Occupation During the daytime he works as the manager for a small bar/coffee shop. At night he works as a waiter at his friend's high-class restaurant "Tonnelli's Italian Cuisine Restaurant." His sweet old lady neighbor Jocelyn takes care of his son while he's out at night. At his coffee shop job he wears contacts that make his eye color blue. He leaves them off for his waiter job in order to get extra tips. Sometimes he would make up some inventions he would use around the shop. He was a decent gadget handy man as well. Appearance At the height of 5'4" he's a bit on the short side. He tries his best to keep the average weight of 125, but his weight is always lowering due to his high metabolism. The thing that stands out most about his appearance is his two different colored eyes. His right eye is a mint green, while his left is a deep lavender. he also has a burn scar on his left leg when he saved Luke from dropping a pot of boiling water on his head. He has strawberry blonde hair that is sickeningly straight and he usually leaves it to its own devices. Style: Not really being the fashionable type, Mikaela usually wore whatever his father ordered him to wear. All of his fantasies were kept in his head. He always had the baby face of his. Some people wondered if he ever did go through puberty in the first place, it seemed like he only grew taller and that was it. His voice changed seemed to be gradual and no one could really notice when it came to his normal voice now. Middleschool Clique "The one everyone leaves alone." Mikaela was the kind of person that was always staring off into space and caught in a day dream. In his earlier years of middle school, he was bullied a lot. He kept it a secret from the people around him and slowly all the bullies grew tired of him. The girls at school liked him for his mysterious look, but would leave him alone when they found out he would either talk for days about what he was thinking of, or just ignore them caught in some other delusion. He was always working on some kind of trinket that no one could understand. Highschool Clique "The Freak" It wasn't until high school that he met Jonah. No one had really gotten that psychological and that cruel when they bullied him in middle school. The teenager seemed to always have this sweet happy smile on his face, appearing to others as a good friend of Mikaela's. There were quite a bunch of misunderstandings with it. He would label Micah as a freak, someone that only had the purpose to disgust people. He might grow up to have money, but he'd just become the puppet with his father pulling the strings. Jonah wrecked at his mental state more and more. Mikaela became so withdrawn from reality it messed with his health. Was that a dragon peeking from around the corner? Did the walls just start to close in? Day in and day out was a terror. It was one day when Micah was so out of touch with reality he was unresponsive to Jonah. Getting angrier and angrier, the sadistic bully carved light lines into the other's face. It stung a little, but his words as he sliced him cut far deeper. When Mikaela came home, his father shipped him off to boarding school. He gained more confidence during those years. Mikaela realized he didn't want to carry on his father's legacy. He would do everything to make his father happy... then slip out right from under him. Past Crush He had a deep crush on Genie that he could never explain. Yes, there was no way he could like another man! But... this was Genie... All the boys might have caught on to his affection, but he never did confess. When they were in middle school, Alver confessed to him. Mikaela didn't know what to do. He had been caught at one point reading something with suggested homosexual tendencies. The boy... he had been locked in the closet all night after that. He wasn't gay! That wouldn't happen... Not as long as he lived under that household. Mikaela did his best to soften the blow of his rejection, but it didn't seem to work. Current Crush --- Are you in contact with a Rose? No Personality The boy always seems to be thinking up some new kind of fantasy as a kid. Before he met his childhood friends, he would spend hours staring at the wall and dreaming up new fantasies. He is a lazy bum who can't seem to clean anything right. He was diagnosed with ADHD as a child, but when he is able to focus enough, he's able to cook well. Mikaela loves being around people who all care for each other, they help bring his fantasies to reality. He may not show it, but smiles are all he wants to give other people. He also sees the world a lot differently from other people. Each different sound has a shade of color, and there are all beautiful. He always believed that Zac's blue voice was the prettiest though. Mikaela may seem distant to you now. When he talks to people, he puts on a facade of being super happy, keeping a save emotional distance between the two of you. If he doesn't try hard enough, he usually keeps a straight face all the time, and that creeps people out. Because of his time in high school, he does his best to distance himself. Micah doesn't want people to find out about his fantasies, he doesn't want to call him strange or a freak. He has a son to take care of. Luke and his friend Hank are the only ones around him that know about his daydreaming. Since he isn't good at housework, his son picks up the slack, he's usually taking a nap at home or playing with his son. Short Bio Mikaela never seemed to be fit for the heir to the Winter family. His eyes seemed to be two different colors and he was always off in his own world. His father thought of him as weak and would force him to study all the time. Micah didn't care too much about that, since studying wasn't that bad, whenever he wasn't studying, he was off in his fantasies. In his family, no one knew his true emotions, because he was so bad at showing them on his face. But then he met his first friends, the ones he actually called his family. They all seemed to be younger than him, but they unconsciously taught him how to express himself. He would laugh and play like a normal boy, which his parents had never seen before. Mikaela's favorite place was the club house, that was the only place he would ever go to when he final felt the pressures of his family. But... Everyone left. He couldn't handle the stress of rejecting Alver, the one he thought of as his "family's" mother. Mikaela realized what he was leaving, but he just couldn't handle it. His fantasies were his only company after that. After the intense bullying from Jonah, Mikaela was shipped off to boarding school. There was no way he could leave everything he'd known just to be under his father's thumb. If he had learned anything from Jonah, it was that he was going to turn into the puppet if he didn't do anything. Mikaela convinced his parents to let him go back to college in Willow Valley. There he was able to not be the most popular, but not be the loner either. He was able to meet Hank his freshman year and start his first proper friendship in forever. Jonah didn't go to his college so he didn't have any influence there. His second year... he met Emily. His beautiful angel, the one he hoped to spend his life with. They did everything together. Micah decided to marry her the first chance he got. But his parents said no way. Mikaela was the heir, he was to have an arranged marriage and take over the family business... but he fought back full force. His father got so pissed that he disowned his own son, not caring that he wouldn't have an heir anymore. Those next few years seemed to be his happiest after his childhood memories. They didn't have much money, but they made due and had a son right away. Luke was a reincarnation of his mother... but that must have been why she died from a heart attack. Mikaela was able to bounce back out of his depression because of Luke. He was able to stay firm and not let his parents take Luke away from him. To support his son, Mikaela worked extra hours as a waiter at a rather high-class restaurant. He devoted his life completely to his son... Jonah was back. He had gone and gotten a master's degree from his college and came back just to torture Micah. He came around now and again to wreck at Mikaela's mental state. He never did really fight back against Jonah, the only times he did was when Jonah said things about Luke. Jonah... the man came by one night while Luke was at a sleepover. He was outrageously drunk and overpowered Mikaela, raping him and sprouting insults left and right. Even Jonah felt a little bit bad about that when he woke up, so he paid Mikaela a hefty amount of money to keep him quiet and half-seriously joked about them doing it again every so often.

Tu as été la meilleure chose à m'arriver, il y a longtemps dans mon passé. J'ai affronté toutes mes peurs et j'ai brûlé des ponts, puis j'ai essayé de rentrer... Niles n'a pas rendu ça plus facile. Non, d'une manière ou d'une autre il a rendu cette expérience plus agonisante que Zac n'était mentalement préparé pour. Curieusement émoussée, Zac fixa les lèvres mouvantes alors qu'elles signalaient les défauts de sa pauvre tentative. La prise qu'il avait sur sa boisson s'est serrée, mais pas une fois il ne regardait loin, peu importe à quel point il était craintif. La personne qu'il avait peur de rencontrer le plus aujourd'hui était Niles... pour plus qu'une simple raison. Il y a peut-être eu un espoir contradictoire de ne pas le trouver ce beau jeudi soir. Un scénario où Zac est resté au bar, s'est saoulé, et Gabby l'a ramené à la maison... mais ça veut dire que Zac n'a pas essayé. S'il avait abandonné, il se serait senti encore pire que d'entendre ces mots vifs. Au moins Niles était honnête et cette douleur n'était rien comme ce que le garçon aux cheveux longs a vécu dans le passé. Les yeux chocolatés ne se sont jamais détournés de l'enfant homme. Des sentiments profondément assis que seul le bien prévaudrait étaient quelque chose que Zac devait constamment se dire. Sa garde de protection s'écroulait alors que le marteau continuait de s'écraser dans le mur mal rénové qu'il tentait de créer pour le protéger de tout ce tourment. Son cœur agité a souffert, mais il ne voulait pas être vu comme quelqu'un de si faible, même si ses pensées lui disaient autrement. C'est peut-être pour ça que Scarlet l'a quitté? Une femme de sa stature avait besoin d'un homme puissant et confiant, quelqu'un qui pouvait se tenir debout et la guider à travers les ténèbres rampantes du monde. La voix s'est arrêtée. Respirant profondément, Zac s'est rendu dans un canapé juste à côté de la chaise de Nils et s'est doucement assis. Plaçant sa boisson sur une table latérale, il fermait les mains ensemble et laissait son pouce droit subconsciemment frotter sa gauche. Les canapés étaient plutôt confortables, mais Zac ne voulait penser à rien d'autre que l'affaire à portée de main. Assis, c'était pour rester stable. A ce rythme, les paroles de Niles allaient faire s'effondrer le jeune homme. (Tu peux le faire... sois juste honnête.) Ses orbes bleues sont devenues distantes alors qu'il parlait les pensées de course dans son esprit, "Est-ce que jamais vous vous demandez si vous pourriez retourner le temps? Réécris ta vie pour que ça ne devienne pas si... douloureux. Je ne peux m'empêcher de m'éloigner de plus en plus de la réalité parce que... ça fait tellement mal. » Sans intention, les larmes commencèrent à s'abattre sur ses joues, son attention n'était plus vers son vieil ami mais enfermé dans l'abîme sombre qui gardait tous ses souvenirs, "Je ne veux pas que vous sentiez comme si vous deviez prendre soin de moi. J'ai juste besoin d'un moment, juste un moment, où les choses semblent différentes. Mentir à moi-même que rien ne s'écroule. Mon plan n'est pas le plus brillant, mais... vous m'avez fait sentir comme moi... » Couvrant son visage de ses mains, il a juste laissé le ruisseau déborder. Sa voix s'est étouffée en le faisant. "pourrait s'occuper de cet endroit foutu... Je n'ai pas changé et tu as vu à travers moi, n'est-ce pas? Je suis toujours égoïste. Je suis toujours sans espoir. Zac n'a pas pu s'empêcher d'étouffer ses paroles. (Faites-moi chier. Arrête. Arrête de pleurer. C'est moche.) Empêcher ses larmes de lui faire passer pour un idiot, Zac a essuyé son visage et ramené son regard sur Niles, "Tout ce que je demande, c'est une nuit de ton temps demain." Il voulait rentrer chez lui et se noyer dans sa baignoire. Cette exposition a probablement perdu toutes les chances de convaincre les Nils à venir. Il n'avait pas besoin de supporter ça. Aucun d'eux ne l'a fait. Pourquoi c'était si dur d'être fort? (Runaway, tu sais que tu le veux. Pourquoi changer maintenant?) Se levant encore une fois, laissant sa boisson sur la table, Zac tenta de trouver des mots de retraite, mais plus de mots ne put échapper à ses lèvres qui tremblaient. Il était terrifié par la réaction. Ce n'était pas comme si Niles se souciait si Zac restait ou non, il l'a dit lui-même... (Mais pourquoi mes pieds ne peuvent pas bouger...) Cette fois, je prends la faute bien méritée. Je mourrais pour t'empêcher de souffrir. Tu me connaissais mieux que quiconque, c'est dommage.

- snipped - roleplay closed -

Nil Il y avait d'abord une pensée immédiate quand Zac s'assit et que Niles vit la formation aqueuse dans le coin des yeux de son ancien ami, et cette pensée vint avec un voyage rapide dans le temps, à de nombreux moments comme un enfant où Niles était un peu un dweeb jouant à être cool comme tous les gens populaires à la télévision. À cette époque, combien de fois les Nils voyaient Zac avec des larmes, et combien de fois est-il tombé dans les Nils pour répéter une ligne apparemment profonde qu'il avait entendue; des platitudes vides qui semblaient fraîches et utiles. Mais chaque fois qu'il semblait fonctionner, pour autant que Nils se souvienne. Chaque fois que Zac vint à lui en pleurant, Niles se mit rapidement à transformer la fronce en position droite vers le haut. Et maintenant, des années plus tard, les petites choses ont changé. Zac a d'abord mis un visage courageux, mais Niles était autour des gens qui ont été payés pour mettre des visages courageux. Il pouvait dire quand quelqu'un agissait, quand quelqu'un était mal à l'aise, quand quelqu'un mentait, non seulement à une autre personne, mais à lui-même. Et après un soupir dur et une question interne (Est-ce ma faute?) Niles a couru son index et son pouce des côtés opposés de son temple au centre. Niles ne pouvait penser à rien qu'il voulait faire moins que déterrer ce qui avait été enterré depuis longtemps : de vieilles blessures. Tout le monde était passé à autre chose. Sauf Zac, clairement. Niles était passé à autre chose. Il n'était pas dans un groupe ou dans l'orchestre symphonique, mais il était cool, ou du moins il jouait vraiment bien cool tous les jeudis soirs à l'heure de grande écoute. Les vieux jours étaient révolus, et aucune quantité de souhait ou d'espoir ne les ramènerait. Et pourtant, comme il a vu Zac pleurer, Niles ne pouvait s'empêcher de ressentir ce profond jumeau de nostalgie. Une fois de plus, c'est à lui de faire les choses bien, de remonter le moral du petit enfant; mais cette fois, Niles doutait de régurgiter le dialogue de quelqu'un d'autre ferait le tour. Une nuit. Une nuit. Demain, il avait fait des avions avec Chelsea pour être son ailier dans sa quête toujours présente de passion... mais elle comprendrait. Elle pourrait même s'inviter, mais c'est pour ça qu'il y avait des petits mensonges. "Une nuit," Nils a finalement parlé avec un autre soupir profond, ne voulant pas révéler combien d'une mauvaise idée il pensait que c'était, "C'est tout. Une nuit. Et je me réserve le droit de partir quand je veux." Les Nils avaient l'intention de quitter une heure ou l'autre, remplissant l'obligation de faire une apparition. "Dites-moi où, je trouverai le reste." Niles avait une intuition qu'il regretterait cela. Mais les vieilles habitudes, ou du moins les vieux souvenirs, ont tendance à se manifester quand on s'y attend le moins.

Niles Blake || 28 || Homosexual, Seme "Whispered something in your ear. It was a perverted thing to say, but I said it anyway. Made you smile and look away..." Birthday September Twenty Second Goal To see if it's true what they say...that you can't go back again...and in so doing making amends with the past, in whatever capacity that comes in. Marriage/Family/Love Life One would have to define relationships first to determine how many Niles has been in. He's been spotted at high profile events but never with his arms around anyone...though that could well be because he knows how to slip out of a crowd arm-in-arm with someone for an hour or two. His relationships, the ones that last longer than a few fun filled weeks and nights, tend to not last more than a handful of months. No pets to be had and the only remaining family he cares to consider is his younger sister, currently slaving away in art school. Occupation Star of the Small Screen; Actor noted for his role on a moderately successful police procedural. Appearance 5'10" 139 lbs He once had a tattoo but had it removed and the scar still lingers, leaving a burn mark on his left shoulder blade. His eyes are a muddy brown, but are anything but dim. The only time he's been seen with facial hair is when his role(s) demand it, otherwise he's as clean cut as one could imagine. His hair, a natural brown, wasn't always so perfectly maintained and straight, and some people remember when Niles had permanent bedhead no matter what he tried. Middleschool/Highschool Clique Niles was one of the band kids. He made first chair cello because he was the only cello player in his year. Past Crush Current Crush Are you in contact with a Rose? Possibly Not Personality Niles is a bit of a smooth talker, quick with a joke and even quicker with an expression of genuine interest. And that's him when the camera isn't running and he isn't spouting far-too-clever lines at a way-too-quick pace. Despite not quite yet being in his thirties, Niles acts as if he's that cool older relative everyone looked up to and loved having over for family events. At least, that's how he presents himself to the ever discerning public eye. Rumors surround him, from co-stars mentioning how much of a perfectionist he is, (to the point where an extra was said to have fled the set in tears after being scolded by Niles) and how he believes that he knows better than the directors or people in charge. Niles positions himself in a power position, making it clear from day one that anything he's involved in will eventually move along according to his own pacing and design. Which, on the plus side, makes him the consummate professional but then does make him hard to work with and even harder to like. And still, despite that, Niles' natural (or seemingly natural) charisma and presence has served him well in his private life. Many claim to have been picked up by Niles but given how the details of his private life (including even his sexual orientation) are just that, private, no one quite knows who is in the know. But Niles has gone on the record on a late night talk show that things are 'going well' in regards to his romantic life. He's not in the closet personally. Just professionally. Short Bio Niles Blake only ever wanted one thing growing up and it was as shallow a want as any other child's. Niles wanted to be cool. But of course, that never seemed to be a possibility. He wanted a bass. He was given cello lessons. He wanted to style his hair after the people in magazines. He came to school once with what could generously be called 'bucket hair'. To his credit, he kept a positive attitude towards his misgivings, mishaps, and overall aura as a well meaning but misinformed dweeb. It helped that he was a naturally funny person, able to shrug off the embarrassments and turn them into endearing stories to be retold and recalled at a reunion years down the line. His parents had a rather amicable divorce when he was near about half finished with high school and his little sister, Becky, was just starting. It was as simple a matter as both mother and father realizing that they didn't love each other and thought it would be better to just...see other people. Niles saw it as his responsibility to watch out for Becky, but realized it would be difficult with him going away after his own brush with what could be considered a 'divorce' of sorts and eventually onto secondary education. Still, the funny, kind of dweebish band kid was always watchful towards those who got close with his sister, which only made things tense between the siblings. Becky just wanted a fun high school life, to make mistakes and such. Niles' life relationships, mainly his familial but even his younger friendly ones, all seemed to be breaking apart which, of course, affected the young Niles. He's since patched things up with Becky (paying for her art school goes a long way) but his lack of meaningful relationships has not gone unnoticed. Rebecca Blake is currently in art school. She operates her own art blog where she takes commissions. Wants to become an animator.