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Everything posted by Lycanious

  1. - Zophiel - Zophiel climbed upwards until the squealing of the demons below had been silenced. She sighed in relief and arched backwards, slowing her ascent and finishing the movement with a gentle, backwards loop in the air before she settled on a lazy glide back down. Laughter followed her movement across the sky, light at first but devolving into an adrenaline-fuelled cackle as she watched the last shadowy wisps of her pursuers fade out into the night. From her vantage point she could still spot one or two demons that had been wise enough not to give chase, but her initial fear of them had dissolved now that it was the demons that were outnumbered. Sensing the flutter of wings nearby, Zophiel turned and beamed over at the fellow angel. She gave Zarall a cheerful little wave as the distance between them closed, as though the two were out for a friendly stroll rather than ensuring the slaughter of several unholy entities. She seemed keen to start up an idle conversation even, though cut herself short when Zarall announced that they should get going. “Right, right. Better wait ’til it’s dead first.” She concluded, turning back around and adjusting her speed to match Zarall’s own so the two were briefly gliding side-by-side. The werewolf’s plan to get the wendigo moving seemed successful, but Zophiel had to remind herself that the blare of the sirens below meant that they weren’t quite out of the woods yet. “The vampires?” Questioned the angel, regarding her winged companion with mild bafflement as she began to break away from their formation. More likely to be causing the trouble I’d wager.” She admitted, though she took Zarall’s advice all the same and swerved away to deal with the remaining straggler after a cry of 'Good Luck!'. Zophiel dove for the last demon and grabbed at one of its spindly limbs, dragging it along for a few paces before she swivelled around and disposed of it at point-blank range. Swirling around on the spot she waved her trusty pistol around threateningly, but failed to spot any more demons circling in on their group. Finally, it looked like Zophiel was able to focus on the wendigo itself. She fluttered cautiously over to the beast and her allies, circling the air above them as she took in the extent of all their injuries. If it wasn’t such a wretched monstrosity Zophiel could almost feel sorry for the way its battered, beaten form was now being dragged along. Almost. “You’re d-doing great guys. Keep an eye on that-t maw of his and I’ll check up ahead.” Drifting further along the road, Zophiel began to scout out the path before them for any signs of further interruptions, malevolent or otherwise. Every so often she would turn and fire another bullet into the air to mark the all-clear, giving the trio a sound to follow so they could concentrate more on dodging the creature’s flailing limbs. - Julien - Back home we have the sense to keep such creatures away from the city streets. Julien thought, though he made no effort to verbalise the comment and just opted to regard her with a raised eyebrow. Having Reydris decide he was to be pitied enough for a rescue was not the worst outcome from such a dismal encounter, but he didn’t fancy the growing feeling that he’d now have to find some way of returning the favour. Something about the concept of being indebted to the nightclub owner struck him as a dangerous position to be in, or at the very least a foolish one. When she released the iron grip around his wrist Julien mumbled a short ‘Merci’ under his breath and came to a stop a few paces behind her. He seemed largely uninterested in the state of the surrounding neighbourhood, faded eyes instead watching over the battered form of the wendigo as he bent down and pressed his hand against the back of his calf. Most of the fabric below the knee had been torn, and he could feel the few remaining shreds sticking to his flesh by the moisture of the snow and whatever semblance of blood he had left in his dusty old veins. It was nothing that wouldn’t be healed in due time, but he’d be reduced to an agonisingly slow limp for the rest of the night now that his body was properly processing the pain. With no more demons in sight Julien was about to take that as his cue to slink away from the fiasco, but the sudden hand on his shoulder thwarted his escape attempt. Sighing he tossed aside the antler, shifted his weight back onto the injured limb, and reluctantly began trailing after Reydris again. “Oh please, do you realise how many mangled chew-toy remains have been ending up in ER lately?” Scoffed Julien, jerking his head back towards the werewolves as they continued further down the road. “Half my bloody job is convincing paramedics that this city has a terrible stray dog problem.” Julien groaned as the lights of the police cruisers suddenly flared into view, reaching up to flick down his sunglasses only to realise that he’d lost them somewhere in the earlier chase. Perfect. Just the cherry on top of his evening. At Reydris’ spectacular swoon though he cupped his hand over his mouth, feigning concern for the woman when in reality he was hiding the smirk that was trying to etch itself onto his face. At first Julien seemed content to linger quietly beside her, letting the two officers fret over her and the idea that a grizzly was on the loose and only nodding in agreement when they glanced over at him for confirmation. The female cop was the first to properly address him, unintimidated by his towering appearance and first to notice the symbol of the nearby hospital and the word ‘SECURITY’ stitched into his chest-pocket. “Julien, is it?” She questioned, squinting briefly at the barely-legible handwriting of his name-tag. The officer beside her seemed to relax a little when he too noticed the mostly in-tact uniform, reassured by the fact Julien was apparently trustworthy enough to be hired as night security. Julien’s attention briefly flickered back over to Reydris, long enough to catch the glare she was sending his way and decide it was time to dabble in a little melodrama of his own. “Hm? Oh…yes...sorry I find myself a little dazed…” Mumbled Julien, trembling on the spot and pressing his raised hand against his temple. He made a show of wincing a little as it made contact, prompting the male officer before him to frown and shuffle forward to take a better look at him. “Did you hit your head sir?” Julien nodded, continuing the act with a bout of dizziness from the motion and stumbling forward a step. The man questioning Julien gripped lightly at his arm to steady him, though noticeably stepped to the side to avoid being crushed if their lanky new encounter decided to suddenly faint forward. His partner, the female officer, beckoned for him to lean in closer and the shaky vampire obliged. He stooped down and allowed her to swiftly manoeuvre his chin to the side to get a good look at the side of his head. “I don’t see any blood…” Mused the woman, slowly but firmly prodding the side of his face to get him to focus his line of sight back on her. The hint of a grimace tugged at the corner of Julien’s mouth at her choice of words, and he clenched his jaw shut until the urge to unsheathe his fangs had subsided. His plan, at least, was beginning to work. The officer had now locked eyes with his own and was inspecting his pupils for any signs of a concussion. She seemed oblivious to the faint shimmer that passed over his grey eyes, but was already starting to feel the hypnotic effect his kind was capable of. “Perhaps I am just overreacting. I’m not used to…bears…” She was hesitant for a moment and gave an indecisive nod, slow and calculating. Even with two of her workmates deceived the policewoman was resisting the idea that a single bear could rip apart brick walls like this. Julien opted instead to focus on the other officer that was staring up at him, hoping that his mind was more malleable than his coworker. To his delight he seemed to have a stronger hypnotic hold over the policeman, who starred up at him for a few seconds with an increasingly wide-eyed expression before motioning towards the cowering K9 unit. “Never seen ‘em do that before. The bear’s not still around here is it?” Julien wrinkled his brow, deep in thought. “Hard to say, officer. We played dead until it wandered off. But it sounded like it went somewhere up towards the alleyway there did it not Madam?” Replied the younger vampire, twirling his hand in the general direction of the alleyway he’d stumbled out from earlier on. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the movement of the winged figure watching over the pair of them, and shot Zarall an annoyed look when the officers turned to look over at the alleyway. He’d had more than enough mollycoddling from other immortals for one night.
  2. - Zophiel - Zophiel regarded the approaching golem with the same wariness she had been displaying for the demons mere seconds before. She had always been ill-equipped to deal with fire, and combined with Morgan’s hazardous method of crowd control she had just witnessed she was more than a little nervous to be within fireball-launching distance from him. It wasn’t until he prompted her to take care of the rest of the demons on this side did she actually look relieved, but even that train of thought was quickly replaced when she realised Morgan was pacing towards the wendigo instead. “Sure! Yep! No problem-o!” She called after him as he abandoned them in favour of taking on the wendigo. A wide, strained grin forced itself onto her face as she surveyed the area before her. With the golem gone elsewhere the remaining demons were regaining their confidence and starting to close in around her again, causing her to tighten her grip on her pistol and fire off a few more shots in their direction to keep them at bay. Zophiel side-eyed the beast beside her, confusion briefly replacing her expression as she tried to make sense of the odd and somewhat terrifying facial movements. “I’m...erm...g-going to interpret that as a smile. Or. Um. Maybe indigestion…?” The angel eventually announced, her wide eyes pleading for the former before they focused in on a shadowy entity that was trying to sneak up on the right-hand side of them. Two more shots rippled through the atmosphere as Zophiel noticed it, the first one catching the approaching demon in the gut and the second piercing clean through its skull to properly vanquish it. Banishing one of the demons gave Zophiel a much-needed boost of reassurance, setting off a little chuckle at the back of her throat that unknowingly mimicked the laughter of the wolf behind her. She fluttered a few feet higher to better view her surroundings, flinching a little when Imelda suddenly dashed back into view to slaughter another demon but keeping her distance from the ground this time. “You haven’t healed properly yet!” Scolded Zophiel as her eyes drifted over the unsightly gash in the werewolf’s shoulder. The barrel of her gun wavered in the direction of the two of them but soon the angel resigned to the fact that she didn’t want to accidentally catch her new-found ally in the cross-fire. She opted instead for words of encouragement, clenching her free hand into a fist and hollering down at her even if she wasn’t entirely sure if Imelda could understand her in that form. “Heck yes, rip ‘em a new one!” “Zophiel!” She snapped to attention the instant she heard her own name. Scanning the skies she quickly spotted the older angel above her and began to rise to follow after her, straining to hear her voice over the icy wind that was starting to build up around her. Zarall. She finally realised as she starred over at the other angel, though any memories of a prior encounter still eluded her. Briefly Zophiel saluted her to indicate she heard the containment plan and with a final, apologetic glance back down at the werewolf below her Zophiel took to the skies. Now gifted with a clear purpose in sight she held a lot more confidence in her movements, twirling erratically a few times in the sky to grab the attention of their remaining opposition before swooping close to the ground to deal with the closest one. Expertly she ducked and weaved around the demon, baiting it into taking swipes at her only to perform a sudden sharp swerve to the side that would force it to turn and relocate her. When she started to pull away for the fourth time it shrieked with frustration and began to give chase, barrelling after her as she glided further down the street. As Zarall flushed out the remaining demons from the comfort of the shadows she steered herself towards them, antagonising them briefly until they also began to give chase. When she failed to spot any more of the creatures she dipped to the side and began to spiral inward, forcing those that had decided to pursue her to gravitate towards the centre of the road. The strain from the prolonged burst of speed was becoming evident, but she gritted her teeth together and ignored the sharp, burning pain in her joints when she suddenly reeled back and invested all of her remaining energy into rocketing skywards as fast as possible. A desperate cry of something that sounded like ‘OKAY-NOW-NOW-NOW!’ accompanied the unexpected change in direction, Zophiel fully aware that she wouldn’t be able to pull off the same trick of corralling them again if she hadn’t given anyone a clear enough shot. - Julien - While Reydris regained her composure Julien was barely scrapping together any hint of his own. The antler in his arm swung wildly about as he whirled around and bared his fangs at anything remotely resembling something else lurking just to the side in the shadows. Julien was little more than a cornered animal by this point, frightened but viciously ready to defend himself if anything got a bit too close for comfort. The stench of blood beginning to waft through the air only appeared to be making him worse, serving as a constant reminder that he was starved and vulnerable at a level that had been unfamiliar to him for decades. When the fellow vampire side-stepped around one of the fleeing demons Julien lashed out after it with his trusty antler-club, catching it in the side as it released an unholy squeal of pain. Lunging for him in retaliation, it managed to sink its claws into the back of his calf before he was able to kick it off. Snarling from the sharp sting of the newly-made gash in his leg Julien stumbled after it for a few steps, but the demon quickly skittered away before Julien could do any further damage. Julien liked to think it was out of intimidation, but at the back of his mind he suspected it had more to do with the fact that the two angels were starting to hunt down the remaining few from above. When Reydris grabbed at his arm he flinched dramatically, though the dangerous serenity of her voice seemed to cut through to his senses before he made the horrible mistake of challenging her. Diplomatic immunity would only get him so far, after all. For a brief moment she may have felt a ripple run through his arm, flesh and bone compressing unnaturally in her grip only to suddenly snap back to their previously rigid state when Julien was pulled forward a few steps. A sharp hiss accompanied the movement, but he staggered after the older vampire with little further resistance. As he continued forward and the icy chill of the air began to bite at the back of his leg it ached in protest, but he managed to wrestle the pained look on his face down to an unimpressed frown as he tried to pick up the pace. Despite her clear distaste for the situation, and possibly Julien himself, being shepherded along by the older vampire gave Julien a moment to ‘breathe’ and recollect his thoughts despite the blinded wendigo still staggering about nearby. The skittish twitching about had died down for one, and the expression on his face was starting to morph from a man fearing for his well-being into one that just looked moderately irritable. “…The hand-holding is a tad unnecessary.” Julien mumbled after a few seconds had passed, now conscious of how ridiculous he must look clutching a splintered antler to his chest with one arm and being dragged along by someone about a foot shorter than him with the other. His natural voice certainly didn’t help matters either, a soft but well-articulated variation that would have sounded right at home among the British aristocracy. “I would feel far safer if both of your venison-making fists were focused on that nasty old thing.” The taller vampire reared back a little and rested his chin over his shoulder as he slowed his pace, contemplating the rising sounds of sirens in the distance and finally catching on to the fact that they desperately needed to get the wendigo moving far away from here. “It is moving far too slow!” Julien announced, raising his voice to address anyone within ear shot. “Unless anyone here can physically drag this horrendous blight on our senses far away from here, I fear a diversion will be needed!”
  3. - Zophiel - The angel grimaced as the demon lunged for her, reaching desperately for the gun but only brushing the edge of it with the tip of her fingers unable to get a proper grip on it. She clenched her eyes shut and moved her hand over her face, trying to protect it from the oncoming barrage of malice when an anguished shriek suddenly pierced through her eardrums. When nothing seemed to barge into her she cringed and risked a peek through the gaps in her fingers to see what had stopped the demon. Zophiel was greeted with a furious blur of fangs, claws, and fur as her vision focused in on a werewolf tearing apart her would-be attacker, eyes growing wide in a mixture of fear and admiration at how easily the demon was disposed of. Though she was quite content to socialise with other supernatural beings she hadn’t really had the experience of fighting alongside of a transformed werewolf before, and a brief tremor of fear ran through her as she tried to remember how much control they had outside of the full moon. She flinched slightly as the wolf reached out for her, definitely cautious but relaxing slightly as Imelda only grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. Zophiel was still a bit dazed from the collision with the ground, but she stuttered out a thank you in a fractured combination of English and something that sounded vaguely like Latin before she remembered where she was. The angel frowned as she noticed the ears of the wolf prick up in alarm. She could only just now hear the sound of Morgan’s method of area control over the roar of the ongoing battle around her, and she barely caught a glimpse of the haze of bricks and mortar flying towards them before she was yanked forward by the beast. Zophiel cried out in concern as she heard hardened clay and cement shatter against the asphalt below and her saviour’s back, though her voice was heavily muffled by the fur of the creature. She writhed in the wolf’s grip, trying but failing to drag the both of them away from the onslaught until the noise had died down. She was back in the air the second she was freed, wings fluttering wildly to keep her hovering a few inches off the ground as she made some bizarre hand motions and gawked over at Imelda. “W-what?! Why?!” Was all she was able to splutter out once she remembered to use actual words. A wave of guilt washed over her as she watched the werewolf stagger momentarily. The shrillness in her voice died instantly, replaced with a much friendlier but urgent tone as Zophiel floated directly in front of Imelda and indicated for her to stop moving. “No-no-no stay right there, don’t be an idiot for me twice in one night!” Demanded the angel. She then turned her back on Imelda and glanced between her and their remaining opponents, refusing to make the same mistake of letting another one of the slimy little things catch her off guard so soon. To the angel’s relief the golem’s reckless method of defence had at least thinned out the numbers they had to deal with, and those that remained nearby now seemed a lot more weary of the three of them. She took the brief few seconds of calm to recollect her gun from the ground beside her and scoop up one of the still in-tact bricks along with it, testing the weight of it by tossing it twice in the air. Planting her feet back on the ground she then hurled the brick at one of the demons that had been watching for the golem’s next move, clocking it perfectly in the back of its head with an aim that suggested having to improvise with nearby rubble was a common occurrence for her. The impact wasn’t enough to completely dispose of it, but the demon certainly didn’t look like it was getting back up any time soon. Its nearby companions now seemed torn between finding out who had thrown the brick and keeping a close eye on the golem as he re-attached his arm, but Zophiel didn’t bother waiting for them to turn around this time and just began to fire wildly in their general direction. She was only hoping to keep them at bay long enough for Imelda to get back on her feet after all, or at least for the golem to finish off the rest. Sounds akin to a car-alarm going off startled to ripple through the atmosphere, her own aura holding up against the wendigo but having difficulty warping the sounds into something quieter. - Julien - The new arrival said nothing at first, but the slack-jawed expression that washed over his face indicated that Julien understood every French expletive that poured out of Reydris’ mouth. Weakly he motioned to the now empty space behind him, about to point out that he hadn’t exactly planned to spend his evening sprinting aimlessly through unfamiliar side-streets. The retort however died somewhere in his throat before any actual words were formed as he glanced up and realised who exactly was lecturing him on survival tactics. Even his own, reclusive self had heard of Reydris Carmichael, and that was before he’d ever been obliged to step foot in this city. Julien flinched as she threw him the antler, breaking his deer-in-the-headlights expression so he could scramble to catch it before it smacked him in the face. The younger vampire still looked a little green around the gills, but the gasps for air had died down and he was now shakily straightening up as Reydris swung her fist into the Wendigo’s snout. Julien cringed at the sight and stumbled back a step or two, certainly not wanting to get in her way. Grey eyes scanned the morbid new gift as Julien held it out in both hands, contemplating the weight of it for a moment before he snapped part of it off against the ground. He scrunched his nose up at the sound of it, but looked satisfied with the much sharper, jagged edge that had replaced the tip of the antler. Managing to rise to his full height and now brandishing the make-shift weapon, he bared his fangs and swivelled on the spot to finally grasp at some idea of what was happening around him. The two demons that had been chasing him were no longer in sight, though he suspected they were lurking nearby. A sharp, red glow was quick to catch his attention and cause him to squint a little from the new assault on his eyes. The subsequent blurred vision made him glaze over the mis-matched limbs, which was probably for the best given his current state of mind. Close to the glowing figure was a werewolf, though one that looked in pretty bad shape. Beside it was an angel, not one he recognised in the slightest, but compared to the hulking creature behind her he was reminded briefly of a chihuahua trying to make itself look tough in front of its big-dog friends. His survey of the situation was cut short as more problems erupted around him, and he scrambled further away from the fray as another angel descended from above and another werewolf burst into view to take on the wendigo. He was starting to wonder if he’d stumbled into some sort of elaborate science experiment to see if it was possible to give a vampire a heart attack. It had to be, with all the bullets, bricks and assorted supernatural beings getting tossed about in the air. The shimmer of yet another shadow passing by caught his eye and he forced himself to stagger forward after it, clutching the antler tightly in his left fist as he reasoned that the best way to get himself out of this mess was to thin out the numbers distracting the hard-hitters of the group so they could focus on the wendigo. Wrapping a lanky arm around what might have been the neck of the demon he was in pursuit of, Julien skidded to a sudden halt and wrenched his arm back. The demon squealed in shock, and Julien had to bite into the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t embarrass himself any further with a similar sound, as he followed through with the motion and slammed the vile creature onto its back against the pavement. The unfortunate creature barely had time to react before Julien brandished the antler like a spear and struck downwards, landing the jagged point right between the eyes. A horrid scraping sound of bone against the cement below them was all Julien heard as its movements ceased, and he quickly scrambled back to his feet as the creature dissipated from view. Instinctively he began to move towards Reydris and swiped a warning at another demon that had scattered from Zarall’s earlier barrage of bullets. At least if he was going to go on the defence he’d have a better time predicting what a vampire was going to do.
  4. - Zophiel - A chill ran down Zophiel’s spine as she neared the destroyed fence, disrupting her otherwise smooth glide over the city. She could sense the tension in the atmosphere and it was creating an uneasy feeling somewhere in her gut. It wasn’t until she rounded the side of a building to wander down the nearby street though that she was assaulted by an agonising sense of malevolence and decay, so foul she audibly gasped from the sudden overload of her senses. Wide eyes focused on a monstrous creature, largely unfamiliar with its form but unable to ignore the wretchedness that oozed from it. Zophiel reeled back in shock from the sight and climbed upwards, desperate to distance herself from whatever in Hell that thing was. As the nauseating sense of wrong diminished Zophiel threw back her wings and began to hover high above the fray, only now able to survey the mayhem surrounding it. For as old as she was, the angel had to admit she hadn’t seen such a menagerie of beings facing off against each other in decades. Instinctively she was drawn to the actions of a fellow angel, one which Zophiel credited with an intimidating wingspan and a fearsome presence. A vague sense of familiarity occurred in the younger angel, not enough to recall a name but perhaps remembering catching sight of her once or twice in a crowd. Zophiel fumbled for the pistol strapped to her belt as the other angel now made a charge for the wendigo, shaking the new arrival from her attempts to identify her and reminding her there was plenty of time for thinking after the creature was dealt with. Zophiel drew her wings towards her body and dove, angling them in such a way that she spiralled erratically in an attempt to make herself a more difficult target. Closing the distance between her and the ground she began to level out and positioned herself further down the street to perform a low aerial swoop towards the larger swarm of demons starting to hone in on the lone werewolf. She didn’t know much about confronting a wendigo, or if her wind-inclined bullets could even damage it, but the scarcity of fire-type demons was enough to convince Zophiel to start focusing on them. As Zophiel launched overhead she gave a high-pitched holler, a primal war-cry she’d picked up from her mentor, and risked wasting a bullet by firing it into the air to grab their attention. Jaw clenched in concentration she then veered sharply to the right, turning back to face the shadowy figures head-on as she took aim. Her plan for distraction hadn’t worked as well as she’d hoped but two sets of gleaming little earth-type eyes now bore into her own as she flared her wings and fired in their direction. The one closer to her was fast, dodging to the side unscathed, but it left the less alert demon behind it exposed to the full onslaught of her gun. Zophiel made sure to give a short, sharp ‘HA!’ as it collapsed to the ground and disintegrated. Sharp stabs of pain suddenly pierced through her shoulders, cutting her celebration short as she was dragged down from the safety of the sky. The other demon had snuck around to the side and leaped at her, latching itself into the wing muscles in her back and sending the both of them smacking into the ground. Zophiel winced as her chin and dominant arm scrapped against the gravel of the pavement and she rolled with the momentum, shaking the demon off for one desperate moment to try and find out her gun had landed before it came lunging for her again. Mouthing off a colourful collection of expletives she’d gathered over the years she started to scramble backwards for the only weapon she’d brought and flung the uninjured arm in front of her face, bracing for the impact. - Julien - Julien starred intently down at the seconds hand of his watch, muttering a count-down to himself as the last 30 seconds of his shift ticked away. Though he had yet to find a reason to leave any earlier than his designated shifts, there was little chance of him wasting a millisecond longer than agreed being on duty. Finally, the timepiece deemed Julien free and he nudged his way back through the hospital to sign off and gave one last, longing look towards the section they took blood donations from as he passed by on the way out. There’ll be some unfortunate git out there to drain. The vampire reassured himself, even though the dull ache of hunger seemed to suggest otherwise. The man stepped back out into the comfort of the night, enjoying the mild rush of new-found energy it gave now that he no longer had to deal with working through it. For a brief moment he even felt confident enough to employ his less conventional method of travel to get home much faster, though the idea was quickly banished to the back of his mind once more when he remembered how much effort it took to shift between the two forms. No, travel by boring old foot it was. If he was lucky he might even come across an easy meal in the process. Once he had moved away from the collection of street lights to a quieter alleyway Julien flicked the pair of reflective sunglasses he was wearing to the top of his head. Even those were sometimes too bright for his sensitive eyes, a fact he was all too aware of as he waited for them to adjust to the more comfortable level of lighting. Odd, for some reason they were blurrier than usual. Perhaps if he just kept on walking- Julien froze as the shadowy mass in front of him suddenly lurched to the side, almost as though it were a wild animal trying to flank him. He watched in horror as it skulked around him, almost letting it reach the limited range of his peripheral vision before he broke from the fear and swivelled around to face it properly. Julien found himself automatically baring his fangs as he starred the ghostly figure down, slightly-gnawed nails elongating into wickedly sharp claws that seemed to be keeping the creature at bay for now. The vampire however made no effort to lower his guard, believing from prior encounters that such creatures always travelled in packs. Another flicker of shadow to his right was all it took for Julien to bolt, knowing full well that he was no match for two demons, let alone any other that were lurking in that alleyway that he hadn’t noticed. Muscles ached in protest from the sudden burst of speed but his newfound fear easily outweighed the urge to stop as he darted around the corner and charged for a more open-ended street. Behind him he could sense at least one of them had given chase, and as another shadow flickered into life in front of him he couldn’t shake the growing panic that we was being steered towards something more malevolent. With no more side alleys to turn down, Julien was forced to continue running and use the last trick he had up his sleeve. Just as the demon in front approached him he dove forward, a familiar feeling of lightheaded-ness taking over as he felt himself suddenly melt into the air around him and pass around and over the demon to blindly burst free of the alleyway. Julien lasted about 3 seconds in a mad dash forward before his fatigue forced him to return to a more solid form. He came stumbling out of his cloud of mist clutching at his chest and looking about ready to throw up, regardless of whether that was even possible for a creature of his sort any more. He wheezed for a breath he didn’t need and staggered forward, regretting it instantly as a horrible stench of decay wafted into his nostrils. It was only then did he notice the chaotic mess the creatures had herded him into, and the fact that he was about a stone’s throw away from the business end of some sort of ghostly elk monster and a bunch of other supernatural creatures trying to reign it in.
  5. - Zophiel - Tucked away at the end of one of the quieter streets of the city, the outside lights of ‘The Hidden Gems Curiosity Shop’ flickered off for the night. A woman stepped out from the entrance into the cold air, pulling the jacket that lay over her shoulders tighter as she fished out the keys from her pocket. Under her breath she huffed something about unreliable employees as she fumbled with the 3 seperate locks attached to the door, continuing to ramble about needing a new ‘We’re Hiring!’ sign and night-shifts as she stepped away from the front-door. Shivering slightly from the temperature shift, she tutted at the weather and began to pick up a few stray newspaper pages that had been pinned against her shop window by the wind. Bright, alert eyes briefly scanned the contents of the pages as she wandered around the side of the shop to the alley behind it and tossed them one-by-one into the dumpster that stood there. The woman, Zophiel, felt the muscles tense in her back as she established there was nothing interesting in the papers, aching for an excuse to unfurl the wings that had been tightly pinned against it even though the threat of a storm loomed overhead. She glanced skywards as she chewed at her lip, perhaps there was time for a quick scan of the neighbourhood at least. Zophiel shook off the jacket that had been draped over her shoulders, regretting the loss of warmth but resigning herself to the fact that it would just get in the way. A set of silvery wings with ashen tips flared out into view, testing out the direction of the wind and how much it would hinder their flight as their owner neatly folded the garment and placed it beside the back door leading back into her shop. She stood back up and turned her attention to the buildings around her, taking note of the spaces between them as she began to hover off the ground. Small, swept-back wings fluttered rapidly as she weaved around street lamps and made sharp turns in and out of nearby alleyways, climatising herself to the air around her and allowing the sting of the icy wind on her face to re-energise herself after a long, uneventful day in her shop. With the rather grim weather expected this time of year it had been a while since her last flight, but it didn’t take Zophiel long to adjust and begin climbing upwards after she’d inspected the length of her street. Soon she found herself surveying the tops of the surrounding buildings, continuing her ascent towards the clouds but getting increasingly annoyed by the lack of any unusual or concerning activity to be found on the streets below. As she approached one of the taller buildings of the area she dipped downwards to her left, clumsily landing on the rooftop of what she suspected was some sort of office workplace during the day. This particular building was a favourite haunt of hers, located on the outskirts of the commercial district and therefore letting her oversee part of the residential area beside it as well. It also found itself host to a thriving flock of pigeons each year, which Zophiel had managed to befriend over the long hours she spent lurking among them up there. Tonight, however, seemed different as she strolled across the rooftop and admired the view of the city below her. Not a single peep was to be heard, and though it took her a few minutes to realise the change in her usual routine she couldn’t help but shuffle uncomfortably once noticed. The birds were silent, hidden away in the little nooks and crannies they had built their nests in. Even when she whistled a little tune under her breath, her usual way of signalling she had some food for them, they seemed reluctant to appear. She surveyed the city below her again, closer this time, wondering if they were just gathered somewhere else for the night or it was another, more concerning theory that they were trying not to draw attention to themselves. As Zophiel shifted her gaze towards the more residential side of the city, she felt another twinge of uneasiness. Something was making the back of her neck-hairs stand up, even though the worst she could glean from starring in that direction was the fact that someone really needed to get their front yard fence fixed. With a frown she leaned forward and squinted over at the spot, flinching suddenly when she thought she caught a glimpse of a shadowy movement by the fence. Even if it turned out to just be a trick of the light, the mere possibility of a demon stalking around nearby was enough to make Zophiel investigate. The angel glanced once more up at the sky, contemplating the signs of a brewing storm with a grimace. Absentmindedly she toyed at the silver chain resting around her neck, reminding herself of the acorn-shaped pendant adorning it as she shook her head and stretched out her wings once more. With a sharp exhale Zophiel leaped off the edge of the building and catapulted herself back into the air, unknowingly making a beeline for the Wendigo and those trying to contain it. - - - - Julien - Faintly illuminated by the glow of a nearby street lamp, a tall and rather lanky-looking man was lurking in the general perimeter of the local hospital. Despite the better lighting towards the entrance he seemed quite content to stay where he was, starring out at the street before him and eyeing the occasional car or person that wandered by the building. A mere glance at his uniform would suggest the man was some form of security for the venue. It consisting of black trousers and steel-tipped boots with a simple button-up blue shirt adorned with the hospital’s logo over the chest pocket, and a name-tag that read ‘Julien’ in elaborate cursive. Hanging off Julien’s belt at his right side was a pouch that appeared to contain some sort of radio transceiver, though anyone that knew the man personally would be forgiven for suspecting that it didn’t get a lot of use. Too many buttons. The security guard had thought at the time when his new employer handed it to him. Everything had far too many buttons these days. Dull, tired eyes now contemplated the lukewarm cup of Earl Grey in Julien’s hands as he gently swirled it around a few times, hoping perhaps that the movement would somehow squeeze a bit more heat out of it. Actually drinking its contents was somewhat out of the question, but he couldn’t help but feel wistful over the scent and a bit guilty for the waste as he shuffled over to the bin beside him and dropped the still-full paper cup into it. Even now he was still a little fascinated by just how easy and cheap it was to find things like tea these days. With hands now exposed to the icy chill of the air Julien checked his watch, grumbled to himself over the time that was displayed there, and then buried his hands in the pockets of his uniform as he begun to pace back towards the entrance. Soon his shift would end, freeing him for the rest of the night, and the thought of where he was going to find his next meal was getting a little difficult to ignore. He’d ‘borrowed’ a few too many blood packs recently from this place, and he worried that if any more went missing this week someone on the staff would start to notice their absence. Julien had lived here for almost 2 years now, and he detested every minute of it. There was always something he could find to complain about if given the opportunity, the fact it was too busy and too bright being among his favourite of rehearsed rambles. Most insufferable of it all though was the fact that nothing was familiar to him any more, right down to the trial-and-error method he had to use to figure out how to sustain himself without his old Menagerie. Leaning back against the outside wall of the hospital the vampire pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes and groaned to himself, trying to force his attention back to the doors beside him before the next person wandered through them. Problematic patients always seemed to show up just before he was allowed to clock-off, after all.
  6. Username: Lycanious Name: Julien Delacroix Age: 450 (Looks to be late 20s-early 30s.) Gender: Male Species: Vampire Appearance: Notably tall and rather gaunt in appearance, Julien tends to tower over the average person. Honey-blonde hair is kept short and often stuffed under a hat in an attempt to tame the unruly mess of curls resting just below his chin, but it’s always a futile endeavour in the end. The rest of him at least is kept well-groomed, always clean-shaven and unsightly blemishes non-existent. His once deep-blue eyes have now dulled to grey with age and always seem to have a sense of weariness in them, sometimes having grey bags under them that contrast strongly with his pale skin. Even for a vampire these eyes are quite light-sensitive, indoor lighting alone can have an unpleasant glare, so they are usually hidden behind a pair of tinted glasses. Julien has not adapted well to a modern fashion style, preferring to wear his perfectly tailored suits when out of uniform no matter what kind of weather is raging on outdoors. He has a particular fondness for rich, deep shades of blue, which most of his clothing will reflect if given the opportunity. Personality: A rather private individual and a long way from home, Julien spends most of his spare time curled up in his apartment trying to amuse himself with books he’s already read or some particularly thrilling crossword puzzles. General consensus from those familiar with him is that he’s a bit too grumpy, overly-skittish, and has a flair for the melodramatic that leaves him convinced if something can wrong it probably will. It causes him to have a rather cynical outlook on life and prompts him to over-analyse most of his decisions, but it does leave him well-prepared for unexpected problems. Despite his asocial tendencies he can be a surprisingly effective diplomat, easily catching on to the concerns of all parties involved and striving to avoid conflict while maintaining a respectable middle-ground. He’s at heart a performer, plagued by fears and doubts in his daily life but able to force a smile on his face and put on a show if he thinks it will convince people that everything’s fine. Elemental Alignment: N/A Unique Power: Julien can transform himself into a mist-like form at will, appearing to dissipate into the air only to solidify elsewhere moments later. He tends to go unnoticed as a sudden patch of fog floating by to the unobservant, though even mortals can get a chill and a vague sense of being watched if they pass through it. While unable to move through solid matter he can squeeze through some surprisingly small gaps in this form, the general rule being that if a puff of air can get through it then so can he. Physical attacks are useless against him, but he is still highly susceptible to magic and psychic abilities. Relationships: Elliot Ravenwood: Master of the once-proud Ravenwood Seethe that Julien belongs to. Has been quite elusive in recent years and only appears to his most trusted allies. His primary reason for sending Julien to this city is to build trust and gain favour with the local Mistress, hoping to eventually form a beneficial alliance of some sort. Violet Carbello: A high-ranking member of his Seethe back at home, a cheerful omnilingualist that seems to be his only semi-regular contact with them. Will occasionally visit the city to keep Julien, and by extension the local Seethe, informed of what’s happening on the other side of the world. Vincent Paxton: An infamous exile of the Ravenwood Seethe, for reasons unknown to outsiders. Mere mention of his name seems to leave Julien very bitter. The Mistress: She has had little interaction with Julien so-far, other than the occasional question or two aimed at him at during the local Seethe’s meetings. Though his loyalties remain with Ravenwood he respects her authority and she seems to recognise that. Other: Works part-time at a hospital as night-shift security. He’s responsible for the occasional misplaced blood pack or two, but considers it adequate payment for his efforts in diverting unwanted attention away from any supernatural injuries and issues that find themselves there. Username: Lycanious Name: Zophiel ‘Zoe’ Summers Age: 525 Gender: Female (Usually) Species: Angel Appearance: With a small wingspan and a petite build, Zoe is much more suited for speed and agility rather than power when it comes to flight. Her wings are a soft, silvery colour with tips of dark asphalt, reminiscent of the city's booming homing pigeon population that she's so fond of. Long, wavy hair flows down her shoulders and settles in the middle of her back in a rich mahogany, though she has been known to play around with the length and the colouring of it on a whim. Sea-green eyes stand out against her sun-tanned skin, and are generally bright and cheerful towards anyone she meets. Though she dabbles in a more androgynous appearance from time to time she has a preference for the feminine side of things and has a soft spot for the long, flowing dresses she wears on idle days. When she suspects trouble is about her attire is a lot more practical though, consisting of simple jackets, shirts and pants that she doesn't mind getting damaged in a scuffle. Jewellery is a common accessory for her and changes frequently, with the exception of a short necklace that she tends to keep tucked out of sight. Nothing particularly remarkable can be said about it, appearing to be a delicate silver chain with a pendant in the shape of an acorn, but she seem to regard it as a good luck charm whenever a dangerous or storm-filled flight is ahead of her. Personality: Eager to please and always the optimist, Zoe is the sort of person who will gladly dive head-first into a dangerous situation with little to no back-up plan. She relies heavily on the element of surprise and her swiftness when dealing with her demonic foes, swooping in for a quick strike and then weaving in and out of range to dodge any counterattacks. Zoe is easily excitable, passionate in anything she does, and genuinely encouraging to others around her which gives her a friendly but sometimes overwhelming reputation. Perhaps her biggest downfall is her lack of patience, which can cause her to glaze over important details, and coupled with her naive tendency to take everything at face value she easily falls victim to manipulation. She views the ongoing conflict with the demons with perhaps a bit too much zeal than to be expected of her kind, but beneath her reckless approach to some situations there’s always a genuine desire to protect the lives of those around her. Elemental Alignment: Air Unique Power: N/A Tattoo Location: N/A Relationships: Hrigjold (Deceased): An old angel friend she speaks fondly of from time-to-time, appearing to have served some sort of mentor role in Zoe’s earlier years and responsible for her combat style. Forfax: Another angel whom Hrigjold took under her wing, Forfax and Zoe have known each other for centuries. With his preferred focus on raw power and brute strength the two compliment each other well, and while they have since gone their seperate ways they still have a strong bond and will gladly come to the others aid if needed. Finley Jefferson: A werewolf employee of her store and the only other supernatural she has hired. With the exception of full moons he mostly runs the night shift for their more nocturnal customers. A down-to-Earth and trustworthy fellow that she has a solid friendship with. Willow Burnett: Willow is the other notable employee of curiosity shop, and while only human she is aware of the otherworldly nature of some of the people that pass through the store and will direct them to her more knowledgable supervisors as needed. Other: She is the owner of Hidden Gems, a quaint little curiosity shop located in a quieter part of the city. While mostly dealing with the usual antiquities and oddities, she also uses it as a means to trade or secure some of the more magical items that have found themselves in the area. Dangerous items are dealt with accordingly or handed over to the appropriate authorities, but low-concern items such as benevolent charms or a cauldron or two can be legally purchased from here if you know how to ask for them.
  7. Violet found herself releasing a breath she didn't realise she was holding as Sage announced the meaning of the first card. Her gaze traced over the picture displayed on it with a look of dismay, briefly relieved to hear that they were still alive but not liking the sound of these 'trials' for their life. Did he mean that in a literal sense? Were they being tested for something? She didn't find any answers leaping out at her but the thought of their friend being put through some hellish sort of experiment was enough to grit her teeth in anger at the whole situation again. The explanation for the second card only seemed to fuel that attitude, making her more determined that they should do something and causing her to tense up again. This time though, she realised the frustration that was rising and took a deep breath to calm herself down as she stewed over the news. She rubbed at her eyes, muttering something under her breath that may have been a plea for Fate to be on their side in her native tongue. Or perhaps it was just a string of profanity from a few different sources. Violet did that a lot. "I suspect the news could be worse, all things considered." She eventually mumbled, still resting her hands on her own face but parting her fingers so she could stare over at Sage through the gaps in them. "But I fear the first card. I worry that if we wait until after the show tonight we could be too late. Could that be what the horses are telling us too? To hurry?" Violet trailed off, clearly trying to think up some sort of master plan to sneak out for a bit more before she even got an answer from him. As of now it mostly consisted of just lurking around the entrance and trying to slip out with the crowd while Sage's father was distracted, though Violet rather doubted she had any shred of stealth and subtlety to actually pull it off. Now Sage, on the other hand... "...I think with that insight of yours you have a good chance of finding something a bit more...unconventional. Something we've missed, I'm hoping. What if you told your father you need some more supplies for tonight from the market?" Robin chuckled as she wandered outside of the tent, holding a hand up to their chest as though they were taking a pledge of allegiance. "No don't worry, I'll take full responsibility. More fun that way." They assured Petunia, with a tone that suggested tampering with such items was a common occurrence even though the two didn't seem to interact with each other that much. Arthur's dwelling was already in view from where Robin had been standing, recognisable by the collection of small canvases, wooden sign posts and dart boards that were stacked near the entrance ready to be set up or sorted. Most of the signs seemed to be left-overs from Arthur's current duties, with the exception of one that was already fixed to the ground beside the tent-flap and stated in large, black letters 'SHOUT BEFORE ENTERING - POINTY THINGS BEING THROWN'. Robin didn't follow its instructions, happily waltzing inside and clasping their hands together as they contemplated their surroundings. Arthur's tent was one of the smaller ones on site given that he didn't expect to entertain any visits other than his own. A neatly-made foldable bed was wedged in the far corner away from the door, mostly obscured from the entrance by two thin bookshelves to presumably give him a sense of privacy. The bookshelves were almost bare as of now, sporting about 9 books between them which all seemed to be about topics that Robin found painfully boring and promptly ignored after glancing over a few of the titles. An easel and stool sat near the entrance, propped up in such a way that its owner could see outside the tent-flap while working and still easily reach the paints that were set up on the small end-table beside the easel. He must have been in the middle of organising said paints when told to go set up some signs, as half of them were arranged in a neat little row according to colour and the other half were scattered hazardously across the surface. Robin shuffled closer to little art corner Arthur had made for himself, peering at the current project on the canvas. "Bloody hell, he's doing abstracts again. Knows I can't stand 'em." Complained Robin, wrinkling his nose at the splashes of red and yellow before them before tilting the easel aside and inspecting the space behind it where a few finished paintings were just visible. They chose one at random, hovering it up and away from the pile to reveal a fairly generic painting of a mountain with a few trees. Robin then glanced back over at Petunia with a raised eyebrow, seemingly to see if they had any ideas in mind for it. Arthur indeed thought that they had said far too much, trying to keep a straight face as they started to go into detail about encounters with rusty nails and semi-competent knife throwers. By the end of the ramble he was looking a little queasy, even though it was all just to ensure the fellow performer that they were fine. Normally it wouldn't even affect him in everyday conversation, but recent events had left him with a vague sense of uneasiness for the entire day and Arthur was overcome with the sudden urge to just throw the rest of the posters back into the bag and retreat to his cosy little tent for a few hours. "Yes, yes, yes, I believe that you've had far worse but I would prefer it if you didn't give me a monologue about it. You'll throw me off for tonight." Announced Arthur, trying to steer away from the topic before more reminiscing happened. "Well. Erm. I meant more friendly as in...well I don't know. You don't look like you're one unsavoury remark away from strangling someone at least." In hindsight Simone was probably not a great example of being approachable either, though at a personal level Arthur still regarded them as the more welcoming of the two. Or, at least, if they found interaction with strangers just as draining they seemed better at hiding it. He frowned down at a few of the papers still in his hands, as though it suddenly troubled him that neither of them were particularly captivating outside of their performances. "...Maybe we should wrap this all up and head back now. I'm starting to worry there's still people around here we shouldn't be drawing attention from."
  8. Violet at least had already moved on from the matter, as was the norm for such comments. While Sage fretted and stumbled about over his thoughts she was making a brisk and determined beeline towards the fortune teller's tent, mind reeling with all sorts of scenarios she was preparing herself to hear. The only time she strayed from the path was when they passed by her own quarters on the way and she ducked inside to grab something by the door. Seconds later she emerged with her usual top-hat in hand, twirling it in the air a few times before it was placed snugly on the top of her head. Violet regarded the much-beloved memento of her past as a lucky charm, and even if it was pure superstition she felt slightly more confident that they would find out something useful if she was wearing it. As they entered Sage's tent she instinctively reached for the nearby table-cloth to assist him, but at his words she quickly snatched her hands back and folded them across her chest with an apologetic expression. She watched in silence as the man arranged everything, curious as to how it all fell into place but not daring to interrupt for fear it would ward off the spirits or something similar. It was only when she had closed the tent-flap and taken a seat did she decide it was safe to resume the conversation. "Oh. Ah. I was hoping you could just ask them what is happening and be done with it." She admitted with a frown, drumming her fingers on the table for a moment as she tried to think of a more specific question. Violet had no dealings with the spirit world other than the one her mother would 'contact' as part of her own act, and that was more of a farce to disguise the mind-reading. She shivered a little, wondering how benevolent actual spirits were supposed to be. "...I guess we should start with the most important one. Are they...are they alive? Can we still find them?" Robin twitched the side of their mouth into a half-hearted grin, but waved off her words with a 'forget about it' sort of motion. "S'alright, I know a lot of us around here ain't always wanting to talk about themselves or where they're from. Probably a good thing you're more cautious, even if it's just 'cause you're shy. I say too much, gets me into trouble sometimes." For once they didn't choose to elaborate on that last sentence, but Robin did reach up for a moment and scratch at the left of their face a bit before glancing down at their fingertips to see if the makeup was behaving itself. They made a mental note to reapply some more before visitors arrived on the grounds tonight. Dusting off their hands the tailor stepped back and glanced in the direction of the tent-flap, spotting a fellow work-mate or two wandering around in the distance trying to tie everything together at the last minute. It would seem that all the members of authority had finished their meeting and were back on the grounds now. "...Thanks? I think? But yeah, maybe when we're all settled and our missing fellow's back from their adventure you can tell me some more about all of...this." Robin concluded, spreading their arms to motion to all of the objects surrounding them. Bowing their head they then turned and stepped back out of the tent, making a sweeping motion with their arm that prompted the tent flap to close behind them. Of course, it only took about 5 seconds before their head popped back into view, now with a malevolent little grin across it. "Hey, can you change things in paintings? Just realised Arthur's not back yet and I'd love to hide some obscene things into his latest landscape. Y'know, if that's the sort of distraction you could use." Arthur remained oblivious to the mild amusement he managed to prompt out of Simone, too busy shuffling through the papers in his hands and commenting on the imagery used under his breath. At first he was only half paying attention to the clown's reply, but tuned back in when they started to speak about the life of clowns and angled his head down to frown over his glasses at them. "Easy? Don't be daft. If I had to spend half my off hours with that lot they'd drive me mad. I swear the only reason they're still here is because clowns are so important to a circus' image." Granted, maybe if Arthur didn't keep snarking about every other clown at The Luna Circus they'd probably be more amicable towards him. He always insisted that they were the ones to start it though, whatever 'it' was exactly. Drawing his attention back towards the posters Arthur fetched out the tools in the satchel at his side and set to work, not wanting to be accused of slacking off on the workload. When the familiar tap of hammer against nail was replaced with a hiss of profanity from his fellow performer Arthur audibly winced, turning his head away from Simone and cringing even though he hadn't actually seen the injury. He recognised the sound all-too-well and it instantly reminded him of all the mishaps that had happened in his early training as a knife-tosser. "I wish you'd be more careful. But one gets careless when it doesn't matter, I suppose. I'm always forgetting to pack for things and just assume I have access to them." He mumbled, only looking back at them when the wound seemed to have finished healing. "And yes. Probably. But being a more friendly face helps too I'd imagine."
  9. Violet squinted down at him as the tent was mentioned but it didn't take long for the look to be replaced with a smirk as she realised the blunder. Had her primary focus not been on the missing person he'd be on the receiving end of a mocking comment or two, but she just let it slide with a wink for now. Besides, Sage looked like he was mentally chastising himself enough without her input. "Breathe, dear. I knew what you meant. And if the cards are not the answer today we should head over at once." The ringleader stooped a little, lowing her voice as she glanced around at the fellow circus performers still shuffling away from the meeting tent. The clenched-jaw look had returned to her face, her mind dwelling back on the majority decision to bury their heads in the sand and pretend that nothing wrong. Surely, they could at least spare a stagehand or two to go scouting for information while the show was on... "To be honest, I am not even sure I want to know the answer to what has been going on around here." She murmured, but motioning for Sage to show her the way to the fortune teller's tent as she spoke. "...All I know is that people should be reacting better to this, all these friends and family vanishing around us. It doesn't have to be a good reaction but it should be something. Perhaps with your unique insight behind us we can prompt some sort of action out of them." Robin was intrigued by the little stories behind the objects, even if they didn't seem quite as sentimental as they had originally assumed. There had still been reason to keep them, after all. Placing both of them back down onto a solid surface Robin actually seemed to perk up a little at the offer to show off more of the trinkets someday, turning to face Petunia with a curious little gleam in their eye. It was then that Robin finally seemed to get the impression that they were intruding on things though, noticing some of the force behind the smile and beginning to think back over the conversation they'd just had. "Er...Yeah. Neat. If you're not already bored talking about them of course." They seemed to have difficulty choosing whether to give an awkward chuckle or clear their throat after that, apparently deciding that a tired sigh was a compromise between the two afterwards. "Sorry. I just ramble when I don't want to think about things, y'know? S'nice that you listened though. I should probably go make sure no one needs any last-minute repairs anyway." Arthur pursed his lips in thought for a moment, nodding in a agreement. "You're right. It was awful. I should keep it for the next show." He replied, swivelling on his heel and beginning to trail after Simone at a slightly slower pace. "Hmph. Far too impatient. They're probably flooding the grounds on one of those bloody 'impromptu preview tours' as we speak." Sniffed the man, sporting an expression of vague disdain at the thought of a certain ringmaster who'd probably be responsible for it. Placing the signs meant that he hadn't been able to finish setting up his sleeping quarters yet and he was fairly certain he'd left some personal belongings just lying about the place ready to be tampered with or ridiculed. "We shouldn't even be open tonight. Too much of a crowd. Too much potential for more things to go wrong."
  10. Violet managed a polite nod of gratitude as they were all dismissed, but the clenched jaw was a pretty good indication that she still didn't approve of the situation. She suspected the ringmaster knew that too, and were it not for her role in tonight's performance she wouldn't have been surprised if he ordered someone to keep a watchful eye on her. Somewhere deep down, she could maybe understand why they had to continue on as normal though. Spread the word of the disappearances too much and the perpetrators would take it as a sign to lay low and flee. Thinking they got away with it would make them sloppy and slip up somewhere. Maybe. Hopefully. Violet's gaze followed the stream of people as they all exited the tent, wondering whether any of them were likely to sneak out under the guise of a restock. Again her attention settled on Sage. Not that she expected a rebellion from him by any means, but he did at least seem to share her viewpoint and that was a starting point. "One wonders if the young gentleman before them has any sagely advice on the situation." She began, trailing behind him and doing her best not to look pleased with herself for the play on words. Eyes flicked briefly down to the tarot card pouch, but seemed unsure how to react to it. "Or perhaps, are we better off not knowing?" Robin was happy to oblige, blissfully unaware that the objects were likely to be resorted after they left. At least they were treating the various items with care, letting them dance gracefully through the air before gently filing them away into the various nooks and crannies she was directing them towards. Robin seemed particularly intrigued by the carvings, bringing the dragon and wooden horse closer to their face for inspection but not daring to touch them with bare hands. "Did you make these yourself?" They inquired as the two objects were settled back down onto a solid surface. The attempt at idle small-talk was obvious, but Robin would be lying if they said that they weren't at least a little curious about all the trinkets Petunia had lying about the place. Their personal belongings tended to change on a whim depending on trends and occasional flares of creativity, so they didn't really have anything with a rich personal history behind it. "Sorry, I shouldn't talk like that. About distractions I mean. Makes it seem like the poor sap's done for. I reckon they've just gotten lost and they'll show up an hour or two before showtime tonight." Arthur at least was patient, standing idly beside Simone and letting them take the time to make a mental-map of the area. He hadn't paid much attention to the place upon their arrival, to the point where he wasn't even sure which way was East let alone how much ground there was to cover in that direction. Not that it mattered a great deal to him though as long as he knew which way the circus was. Grey eyes trailed off as Simone continued, taking note of a few people and buildings around them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but somewhere at the back of his mind the memory of recent events stirred and he suddenly grew tense. "No! I mean- no. Actually. I think we should stick together. It would..." He paused, again having trouble with deciding on a suitable response rather than just admit to the sudden bout of nerves he'd developed about the whole situation. "...It would just probably be best. You'd make a good shield if we ran into trouble."Well, at least the twitch in the corner of his mouth to a smirk indicated that last bit was probably meant to be a joke.
  11. Violet spent the next few minutes detached from the conversation, tired eyes pouring over some of the notes that had survived in hopes that there was an answer hidden in them somewhere. It was only when Sage spoke did she glance back up from the table and soon found herself nodding along in agreement. All this talk was getting them nowhere, and the longer they sat around doing nothing the fainter the trail would get. When the ringmaster only insisted that they didn’t have the means to a proper search party though she tensed up, looking ready to jump out of her seat again in protest. Violet managed to hold her tongue this time, but only because she knew that if the man’s own son couldn’t convince him then she certainly wasn’t going to be able to. “...They are strong, at least.” She announced as the two seemed to come to some sort of compromise. “Perhaps if we give them some time, they can find their own way back.” Violet was still addressing the room, but her line of sight seemed to focus on Sage in particular as she mulled carefully over her words. “...If it is fine by you Sir, I should like to go now and practice an opening speech before tonight. The show must go on, as you say.” Robin, unfortunately, seemed oblivious to her guarded attitude and continued to gaze around the curious little tent as though just realising they’d never been in here before. They had a habit of popping into the tents of others for a chat or an emergency refitting, and apparently Petunia was no more an exception than the rest. “Sounds nice, I ‘spect it’s a hymn of some sort then. I’d say you ought to see if Vi knows it but no doubt she has a long and extensive historical essay about it.” Eyes rolled to the top of their head for a moment, though the tone was affectionate. The two were close friends after all. “Ah. Well. It’d take your mind of things for a bit at least wouldn’t it?” They added, with considerably less enthusiasm than their earlier jest. Robin suddenly found the back of their hands very interesting, starring down at them as they twiddled their thumbs for a moment before tucking them away into their pockets and clearing their throat. “Right. Anyway. Lets get this lot sorted eh?” A few scattered, smaller objects started to rise in the air and lazily float around them as Robin awaited further instructions. Arthur crinkled his brow at the explanation, apparently not quite following the thought-process of his fellow workmate. Still silent, he stretched out his arm and attempted to place the salvaged posters back on top of the pile in Simone’s hands before continuing down the street. “Maybe. But not when it’s caked in dust.” He eventually said with a sigh, as though he’d been racking his brain for a better complaint and was admitting defeat in finding one. The young man reached into a satchel hanging at his hip that contained the tools he’d used to set up the signs around the area. He rummaged around for a moment, before it admitted a muffled crackling sound and an odd static-like sensation passed over the little area he was standing in for a second. “Come on,” Arthur grumbled, suddenly brandishing another load of posters that couldn’t have possibly all fitted neatly into the satchel they seemed to come from. “Far too cold out here for a one-person task anyway. They really need to ration out these things better.”
  12. Violet was also attending the meeting, there to report on any semblance of information she might’ve been able to gather from the local members of the town. She’d been wandering about the town since yesterday morning and judging from her unusually dishevelled appearance she hadn’t had much luck in finding a lead. Currently she stood up from her seat, hands hovering over some scraps of parchment that she had scribbled a few hopeful but ultimately unhelpful notes on. “I have no answers, really. The last person that saw them seems to be a fishmonger down near the food markets but other than that...” She spoke clear and precise, the mark of a well-trained announcer as she picked up another handful of notes. For a moment she looked as though she was going to read more from them, only to suddenly tear them up in her hands and send them fluttering into the air with a flourish. “It’s just like they vanished into thin air!” Exclaimed the woman, smacking the palms of her hands into the table surface before her. Someone hushed her to the left and she faltered slightly, wide-eyed expression replaced with an apologetic one as she slowly sank back down into her seat. “My apologies. Perhaps someone else has had better luck.” Robin was pacing, as was their usual response when something was on their mind. They weren’t quite sure how long ago they had started, but were fairly certain they’d done at least four laps of the circus grounds by now and should probably take a break as it was clearly getting them nowhere. They needed a distraction, anything really, and so made a beeline for the nearest tent. They knew from the humming alone that Petunia was inside before they even caught sight of her, polishing away at her stage equipment. Robin decided to announce their presence by humming along as they entered, though after the first few notes it was clear that they had no idea what the tune was supposed to be. “Huh, don’t reckon I know that one. Where’d you pick it up from?” They trilled as they wandered in and poked at a nearby prop. “Need a hand? Finished getting my things all together hours ago.” Arthur took a step back and admired his handwork, eyes tracing over the painted sign he’d been permitted to set up in the centre of one of the market areas. He’d spent a great deal of time on it, lovingly transforming the boring old planks of wood into portraits of their most renowned members complete with, of course, a full-moon against a star-dotted night sky as the background. He nodded, satisfied, and after testing it was secured properly into the ground he dusted off his hands and turned to make his way back to the circus. He’d only gone a few metres down the street when the first fluttering of a rogue poster caught his eye, followed by a second, and then five more spiralling through the air. Arthur glanced up, tracing the source of the airborne paper to a spot that seemed to be the next street over. Managing to snatch a few of them out of the air he made his way over and sure enough, there was Simone with the rest of them. He said nothing as he approached, but motioned to the posters in his hand with a raised eyebrow as though he was expecting an explanation for something.
  13. Simon's eyes widened as she turned to face him and quickly darted back to their own screen. Evidentially he'd forgotten that he wasn't wearing his contacts today, which made following his line of sight pretty difficult in retrospect. The young man however still made a show of inspecting his screen for a few more seconds before finally rolling his sleeve back over it, crossing his arms behind his back, and turning to face her properly. He now stood at attention, though perhaps with a more poised, elegant stance than was common of the military types around the Dragon Team base. "My apologies. I just thought that even for a stealth mission I thought 3 agents was a bit lacking. I'm please to see that Command seems to feel the same way." For a moment it looked as though Simon had something else to say about 'Command', but he just shook his head a bit glanced back in the direction of the holographic map. "And. Ah. I'm thinking it's pronounced 'Rye-oon', personally." Simon mumbled, twitching the corner of his mouth into what was supposed to be a smile as his shoulders slouched a little. Cathryn was so-far a welcome change from his previous leader's gruff, no-nonsense style of command. Sure, she didn't seem the best prepared for someone about to be leading them into Nova's territory, but the idle chatter was a good distraction and gave Simon a little bit more confidence in pulling off their mission. He decided to abandon his original plan of pacing about aimlessly for the entire duration of the trip and sunk into a nearby seat before brandishing his D-TAG again. So far he'd only been game enough to mess about with the personalised settings, toggling the volume and trying in vain to adjust the colour-scheme of the screen to something a bit more to his taste. He was in the middle of trying to decipher the controls for the teleport system when a sharp, robotic voice erupted from his device and pierced through the silence. Simon flinched and hissed through clenched teeth at the sound, quickly bringing up the volume controls again and adjusting it from '100' to 'Mute' before squinting up at 49. "Yes. Loud and clear. I think I'd prefer a text in the future though." He grumbled, though was in truth pleasantly surprised that the armoured figure was finally communicating with them.
  14. (( Fair enough, I guess I'll take the next turn then? )) Simon chuckled a little at the hybrid comment before trying to disguise it as merely clearing his throat. He remained otherwise quiet as Cathryn concluded her talk to them, save the small yelp he gave as the ship started to take off and he clutched at a nearby chair to keep his balance. For a brief moment he pawed at the chest pocket of his suit, as though checking if something had fallen out, but seemed to relax again after a short breath or two. He found his footing again soon afterwards and managed to step away from the chair as the ship left the hanger, beginning to pace around the area for something to do. His immediate thought was to check out the armoury for an idea of what was at their disposal. When he realised that's where 49 was heading though he veered away and decided it was best to stay at the front portion of the ship. Cathryn at least didn't look like she was going to use him for target practice on a whim. Besides, Simon had found a new interest in the holographic map he was now lingering in front of. He'd never heard of a Ryun-II, but he hoped whatever agent they were picking up from there would at least be semi-approachable. The young man began to wander about again after starring at the map gave him no more clarity to their situation, eyes now instead glued to the D-TAG as he tapped at the screen. He eventually halted just a few steps behind Cathryn's chair, seemingly lost in thought and facing the wall beside them as he adjusted the wristband of his new device. A few seconds had passed when he started glancing over at his newly-appointed leader, very clearly trying to read the screen of her own D-TAG over her shoulder.
  15. As Cathryn continued through her briefing on their mission Simon's idle fidgeting was soon replaced with a grimace. As someone with a fondness for keeping tabs on recent missions, he was well aware of more than one recount of a horror encounter with Nova or members of her empire. It was the sort of name that if he heard it in his usual snooping in on conversations it was probably best for him to block out the rest of what they were saying, lest he spend the rest of the day in a somber mood. He grew very still, shifting to what he hoped came off as a more neutral expression by the time she had finished the speech but certainly going through some sort of internal panic. He had no doubt that this was to be a subtle infiltration mission, given the no-deaths rule, but his one notable ability was still very much a wild card at this stage. The young man lingered in the assignment room for a while after the other two had vanished. His hand hovered above the pulsating button of his D-TAG, tracing small circles in the air as he seemingly debated whether he actually wanted to tap it. With a small shake of his head Simon finally brought his index finger down onto the screen and glanced back up to find himself suddenly starring at the front end of a ship. Mildly disorientating, but by no means the worst sudden change in perspective he'd experienced. Once he'd finally arrived he wandered into the ship and nearly bumped into the other agent that was already waiting for his next set of orders. This time Simon barely glanced at 49 as he shuffled past, having of given up on trying to get idle conversation out of the guy. He was more focused on finding a comfortable spot to sit down and start playing around with the settings on his brand new D-TAG. In particular he was hoping to find out if the teleport could be set to some sort of timer, which would save him the pesky trouble of having to retrieve himself later on.
  16. Simon scrambled momentarily for the D-TAG as it was lobbed in his direction and nearly dropped it in the process. Judging from the wide-eyed expression that followed he was rather awe-struck by the device once he realised what it was, carefully turning it in his hands a few times to check that it hadn't been scratched by catching it. It was rare that he was trusted with such an expensive and easily-stolen device, given his habit of leaving the physical world from time to time. Hesitantly he tugged on the perfectly-fitted sleeve of his jacket until his wrist was exposed and carefully wrapped the device around it, testing how well he could keep it out of sight. The lanky young man remained in his seat as Cathryn called for attention, though he did first send another unsure glance in 49's direction as he shuffled away from the wall. Contrary to the military stance they took on Simon was far more twitchy as he waited for the talk to begin, trying to maintain the perfect cross-legged posture he'd been taught years ago but always pulling at his collar or fidgeting with his hands. He seemed to constantly be on alert, and the unreadable expression of the agent beside him was certainly not helping matters. "Yes. Erm. I have an inquiry." Simon announced with a half-raised arm, trying to focus his concerns and impatience on the task at hand instead. "Are we expecting anyone else? I'm not sure what sort of mission a...Satyr...?" He trailed off for a moment, taking note of the goat-like legs of the fellow agent for the first time and readjusting his theory. "...and myself would find in common?"
  17. An exasperated huff sounded from another being in the room followed by a 3-second chime that signalled a mobile phone had just turned itself off. Simon glared at the now-blank screen held in his hand, feeling awfully betrayed by the chipped and cracked device he'd stayed loyal to for 5 years, before resigning to his fate and shoving the phone back into his pocket. He glanced up for the first time since he'd taken the nearest seat to the door, tutting at the time displayed on the analog clock before starring around the room for something else to grab his interest. Would it be impossible for the Dragon Team to pin a few tacky motivational posters on the walls? At least it would break up all the grey of the room. Simon did not have the best relationship with the colour grey. It generally just served as a reminder that he needed to cake his face in a few more layers of concealer. With the camera on his phone unavailable though, Simon had no option but to keep said concealer in his pocket and continue his bored surveying of the room before him. He eventually risked a glance towards the hulking figure of metal beside the door, currently the only other being within whispering range. Pale, pupil-less eyes starred up into the visor for a moment, wondering exactly who or what was looking out from it. Despite the brief fact or two he'd overheard about this '49' character Simon's current theory was that they were a robot of some kind. A robot that hopefully wouldn't mind someone gawking at him for that last 20 seconds or so. Simon opened his mouth, trying to look like he was just attempting conversation, but found his mind suddenly blank for a topic that would interest them. "Do...Do you have a charging cord?" He eventually stuttered, figuring a possible-cyborg might have a recharge pack somewhere on their person.
  18. It was rare to find Charlie outside of the Greenhouse as of late, and today was seemingly no exception. The rather lanky biologist was currently hunched over a few small plant-boxes sitting on a bench, mumbling to herself as she poked and prodded at the leaves of the newly flowered plants. Eventually she gave a tired sigh and took a step back, wiping the excess dirt from her gloves onto the already rather muddied and tattered lab-coat that she was wearing. Fishing around in the pockets of her coat she eventually retrieved a voice recorder and began her usual monologue for the day. “Generation 4 currently shows no signs of success, despite the qualities of the parent plants…” She began as she glanced towards the back of the greenhouse, hazel eyes drifting over a small flowerpot that had been set aside from the rest of the plants. It contained a single, large flower and the words ‘I. Uniflorum x L. Noctium, G3-S4’ scribbled onto a label that was stuck in the soil beside it. “Sey- Um. I mean. G3-S4 is now the only surviving specimen from Generation 3. It seems to avoided the fate of G3-S2 and S6 for now but stubbornly refuses to produce any offspring so far. I fear I might have to start from square one again. If he’ll grant me the time and resources. Again.” She paused after that, a wide-eyed expression replacing her defeated one as she twirled to face the clock on the wall and tried to remember how many minutes had passed since the Director had summoned her. Hastily she wriggled out of the lab-coat and flung it onto a nearby table before making a beeline for the exit. Charlie finally arrived on scene some moments later, still brushing off little clumps of dirt from her pants with the gloves she’d neglected to remove. She fidgeted in mild confusion at the doorway for a moment, trying to identify who was there before shuffling further into the room. “You requested my presence, Director Sir?”
  19. Hey guys~ Sorry for the delay but I've finally got around to finishing off a character bio. I might be able to juggle a second character if you like to fill out the numbers...? Though yeah, I'd prefer not to be the leader so I'd probably go with engineer or another soldier. (Thank you for the Physics cheat-sheet too, because most of my knowledge on the subject is probably going to come Google :s My knowledge on Biology should be a lot better though so hopefully that'll keep in line with the character at least.) Name: Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Williams Gender: Female Age: 21 Appearance: Charlie has a tall and lanky build, standing just over 6ft. She has hazel eyes and a pale complexion. Red hair is neatly combed and cut short for low-maintenance, leaving her with a fairly androgynous appearance. Combined with the ambiguous nickname Charlie can sometimes be mistaken for male, but doesn’t seem particularly concerned with correcting people when this happens. Due to an accident in her youth Charlie lost her right hand which now has a bionic replacement. While it doesn’t offer any significant enhancements in terms of strength or dexterity, it does run on a small but powerful battery that Charlie can remove at will and use as an emergency power source. Despite the lack of light around the colony she tends to dress conservatively, mostly to hide some scarring that runs down her neck and right arm. Her uniform has some minor modifications for this preference, most notably a high-necked collar that she keeps flipped up. Personality: First encounters with Charlie can be overwhelming, particularly for an introvert. While she’s certainly amicable she’s an energetic and inquisitive sort of person, diving into conversations with just about anyone and having little filter on her thoughts and actions in the process. Behind her chaotic mannerisms though is a world that is constantly being analysed and methodically organised around her, with most of her inquiries being an attempt to better categorise others. Charlie will often obsess over the minor details as part of this behaviour, which can be a mixed blessing when dealing with everyday problems. It allows her to pick up on subtleties that others may miss, but she’s easily thrown when things don’t add up to a logical answer and can miss the big picture as a result. There’s a rational answer to everything as far as Charlie is concerned, and if she has to spend 3 coffee-fuelled obsessive nights in a row in her lab to find it then so be it. Class: Scientist- Biologist Other: Her strongest field of research is Botany, as she spends a lot of time in the Greenhouse.
  20. “The forest?” Artie gawked at her momentarily, already starting to regret addressing the strange new arrival. He certainly wasn’t in the mood to be trekking around the forest on sleep deprivation and an empty stomach. “It’s kinda far from here, plus you’re going in the completely wrong directi- did you say blind?” It had taken a few seconds to register, but once it finally did Artie started to half-run, half-flutter towards her in alarm. He made a few flustered noises in what was probably an attempt at a warning of some sort as he nudged her repeatedly in the arm and tried to usher her off to the sidewalk. A car was bound to come roaring around the corner of a side-street somewhere if he didn’t. Elves. Always in a world of their own weren’t they? “Look uh, maybe we should just…sit you down somewhere for a bit while you get your bearings. Give the horse a chance to get its energy back maybe?” He continued to ramble, glancing up at the horse with a mix of confusion and caution. He didn’t have much experience with animals beyond food and the pigeons he occasionally tossed some crumbs at outside the café, and was obviously nervous around the creature. “It’s a bit long walk from here. I think. You probably want to find someone who actually lives there to get you back.”
  21. (( Thank you~ )) A young man slouched over the counter of his workplace, blood-shot eyes glued to the clock ticking away on the wall opposite of him. It had been a long and relatively uneventful night at the clothing store, and Artie could think of nothing more than curling up on the lounge in his cosy little apartment and sleeping through the rest of the day. He made a mental note to stop by the local markets on the way back, remembering that his fridge was basically empty. Gaze shifted to the window, squinting at the unwelcomed sunlight that was now peeking through it. I really should catch something for myself this time. He mused. I'll forget how to fly altogether at this rate. He stretched out his arms at the thought of it, trying to dull the severe muscle ache that was telling him he’d been in ‘human’ form for too long. Finally the long hand of the clock struck twelve and he practically cheered at the sight of it, energy suddenly renewed. Artie shouted his fair-wells over his shoulder as he slipped on his coat and made a bee-line for the door, taking the muffled reply in the background as a sign that his replacement had arrived. A groan sounded as the light of the outdoors hit his eyes, blinding him momentarily while he fumbled for the sunglasses in his pocket. Even in this form he had exceptional eyesight, but it was much better suited to the night and caused him a great deal of headaches when he had to venture outside during daylight hours. He was quick to duck into a nearby alleyway for a bit of shade, not to mention a place to return to his usual form. It wasn’t that he was…ashamed of it per say, he reminded himself as he watched the tawny coloured feathers sprout from his arms and the skin of his hands toughen into scales. It was just. Business was easier, this way. You just sold a lot more shirts when you didn’t have to convince someone you weren’t going to rifle through their belongings while they used the changing rooms, as was expected of most harpies. He huffed in annoyance, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as he stepped back out onto the streets as his usual self. The intent was to fly straight to that little shopping village he liked to have lunch at sometimes, but he had barely even had time to stretch out his wings before a flash of white in the corner of his eye caught his attention. His head swivelled around to follow it, finding what he considered to be a rather out-of-place horse being lead along by an equally out-of-place elf down the road. Normally he wouldn’t think much of it but, well, he didn’t want them to get run over or spooked by the cars now. “Hey, erm. Madam?” Trilled the harpy from across the street, flaring a wing to try and get her attention. “Know it's not really my business but the cars can get pretty busy further up. Not sure it’s a good idea to bring a horse through here.” (( Just a question, I know you said that the world is modern, but is there a lot of magical activity as well in the everyday life for the creatures part of the world? Like are items with enchantments sold in every second store and you can buy discount crystal balls alongside computers and such? Or is that sort of stuff quite rare and the city could almost pass for human? ))
  22. (( Hey there everyone~ A bit late to the party but I'm hoping to join as a harpy in the North Sector? Info below. )) Name: Arcturus Aellis Nickname: Artie Age: 23 Gender: Male Human or Specified Creature: Harpy (Owl) Power: Flight, Heightened Vision, limited shifting between a human and bird form. Weakness: Frail build with lightweight bones (for flight), meaning he can go down with one punch from even the average human. Family: Alive and well for the most part, though he hasn’t seen them in a while. The majority of his flock resides near the mountains of North Sector 1, with a few distant relatives scattered around the cities. History: Artie has resided comfortably in the city area of the North Sector 2 for several years. He arrived with his parents, who were looking for a better paying job than those offered in the quiet mountain village he was born in. Artie adapted quite well to the city life despite his parents dislike of it, and when they packed up to move again he decided to stay behind. Though he has dreams of becoming a renowned stage actor he’s made very little progress towards it, and instead pays the rent as a salesman for a popular 24/7 clothing store. He mostly tends to the night-shift for the store, dealing with their more nocturnal customers. While society generally tolerates harpies, they have a history of being thieves and con-artists and are often considered deceitful. For this reason Artie tries to appear more human during working hours, in fear it will affect his sales. Children/Pets: None In a Relationship: None Picture or Description: Natural Form Owl Form (Hoping to draw this later, but this is similar to what it looks like) Additional Notes: Shifting into a more bird-like or human form is difficult to maintain for more than a few hours at a time, due to the energy involved and general discomfort.
  23. Hey there everyone, been lurking in the background of this topic for a while but I have to say that I think Skywolf and Fuzzbucket both bring up some good points. For a bit of context I generally consider myself as a novice but keen spriter, so I'm well aware that there's areas I need improvement on whenever I help out with a concept. I've generally regarded the DR board as a good practice area for this, because of the attention to detail offered by a lot of the people that frequent it. I guess the reason I bring this up is that the recent shifting of all Completed Concepts back to Requests seems...contradictory? It's easy to get the impression that by subjecting all these concepts to higher standards, it's preparing them for a long but inevitable release in-cave. But the people in DR are also being told that their concept will probably never get into the cave anyway, so you should regard this board as more of a place of practice. At least, that's the impression I'm getting from this discussion. Apologies if I'm on the wrong track here. Personally? I'm fine with the notion of the board being regarded as just for writing/art practice, where most of the concepts probably never making it into the cave (Though some might, if you work hard and listen to advice). Perhaps classifying it more as a place for practice rather than sure-fire way to get in-cave if you get to the Completed section will make people more receptive to critique?