Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ritual Site: Two Blocks from Butchers Alley. Rusev Kovac Residency. Apartment #3, Third Story.

"Mama always said sobriety was for quitters."

Terror inflamed Hademar's sense of purpose. Twitching chitinous limbs manifested themselves from the ceiling and floors. The imaginary appendages crept across Hademar's naked body. He recited dad's ill-advice too distract himself from the illusions piercing his pasty skin. Serrated thorns slid painfully slow when an appendage coiled awkwardly around a limb. The illusion of pain coaxed him to hunch forward and press a finger to one nostril, hastily snorting a line of cocaine from the table before him. He sigh drew out into an uncomfortable moan of pleasure as the agony seeped from his tortured form.

He blinked, only for a moment, and that was enough. Behind his eyelid were oily black pools where a deep ruby pupil stared back. Alastriona a name he never knew swam into his psyche of incohesive thought. Cohesive thoughts became swirling vortexs of letters and numbers, colors and shades. Any word he might attempt to muster, to speak came as a dry, haunting whisper Alastriona.

Seconds became minutes, minutes became seconds, days became hours... And perceptible time ceased existing. For as long as time itself Hademar and the vision of Alastriona stared back at one another. Those hungry, bloody eyes bore into his decrepit soul and terror chilled his heart to a crawl. "Wretched Daughter... Orphan Whore... How could you deny us... Deny me!" Some terrors couldn't trump others. The fate they prophesied should Hademar fail dwarfed her powers by comparison. They gift him with blessed ignorant, and such ignorance allows him amnesty from her bewitching powers.

He must continue, the ritual demands it.

The malicious insect limbs withered into ashy flakes before his now opening eyes. He snickered manically and through himself around, facing the window opposite to his desk and shouted. "Sha'Veen'Glrath! Sha'Vee'Glarth!" A sudden rapping at his study door disturbed his ritual. The pitched voice of the squatting woman spoke with a distinct sense of fright in her words. "Mar, what're ya doing?!" Of course her panicked words fell on deaf ears. Her disturbed host was in the midst of communion and his attention belonged to them.

He fell hard on his knees and began scribbling indescribable texts with chalk drenched in oil and sulfur. The insistent beating on his door stopped, as did her irritating voice stop in mid-sentence. Time truly did stop.

"Blood and piss, blend them with orphan feces and seal the contents in a pouch of human leather. An appropriate hell, wouldn't you agree?"

Hunched over on bruised and bleeding knees, Hademar recited the crafts of Doctor Lucretia. The foul witch wore a foul smelling cloak of rat and rodent fur. Simply thinking of that emaciated wretch brought the stink of death to his confused senses. It distracted from the suffocating choir invading his psyche. A grand crescendo of agony rose to a deafening volume as innumerable victims choked and gasped for oxygen. Fortunately whoever kept beating his door so vigorously couldn't hear... No one could hear. The entire building would smell that cobbled together cloak of living and dead rodents. His Illicit Text brought even the unintentional into existence. For blocks the rancid smell would have stranger keeling over vomiting profusely by the ungodly smell.

Himself, he didn't care. The stink kept his thoughts away from the cacophany of strangulation dwelling in his psyche.

"Oh sweetling, open for num-nums."

Now he needed rage, unadulterated hatred to infuse his texts. That pear shaped whore nurse Ophelia, always sedating him, always feeding him excrement and raw meat. "I'll kill her!" Such unbridled rage appeased the eldritch beasts. In a fit of rage he through the chalk out the closed window. Glass shattered onto the mosaic he'd drawn across his studies floor... And the choir was silenced. A death rattle of victims gasped one last time before expiring in a realm mankind cannot fathom. He heard the happenings but seldom them saw them. Perhaps his insanity wasn't so all-consuming as to allow him an audience to these macabre events.

Tears welled up in his eyes when his study began shifting. He blinked away the tears and discovered his study was no more. "Sha'Veen'Glrath..." The words were fumbled on trembling lips. Hademar blinked again to see the tool his masters desire.

Alastriona's dreams would abruptly end. Her true form exposed to a scrawny naked man weeping profusely and covered in too many wounds. The serrated chains coiled tight around her body constricted until the thorns bit into bone. Crimson stalagmites looming above exuded a faint red luminescence throughout the cavern she appeared in. At the center sat a hunched figured covered in too many rounds. His scrawny form naked form was layered in crested blood. Shadows cast by the eldritch glow cast long shadows, fortunately covering his genitals. She'd see his back bucking and hear the stranger audibly sob into shivering fingers.

"Disfavored Spawn... Neverborn..." Hademar whispered while he struggled to compose himself. His hazel eyes were pits of darkness and inky streaks, presumably tears, ran down his cheeks. "Alastriona, Unloved Daughter... You life is an affr--" Without explanation Hademar slapped himself with a resounding clap echoing across the chamber. He sat upright and repeated again, and again, and again. The tell tale signs of bruising were evident after that fit of self abuse.

He sat there for a single second, wobbled in a concussed induced daze and smiled with bleeding gums. The darkness faded and his hazel eyes returned, bloodshot and wild. "Flee."

Alastriona wouldn't have a moment to reply or interrogate. She'd awake after Hademar spoke, presumably perplexed. An acrid scent of cheap liquor and cheaper cigars would permeate her dwelling. This was Hademar's scent, the scent of the intruder of her dreams. Hademar. Much like her own name did, his name crept into her thoughts and soon onto her lips. He was summoning her, calling her to wherever The Wretched linger.

Hademar, on the other hand, was found naked and unconscious on the mosaic of blood. Elaine screamed in fright and rushed to his side, wiping away the cocaine from his nose.

News reports that for the following days focused on the anomalous event which spurred a city apartment complex into a nauseous riot of vomiting.

Nothing interesting was happening on the trash-ridden street. There was a slight argument between a couple. A rather brief one which mainly consisted of shouting and a slammed door at the end. An employee chased someone down the street only to return moments later. It would have been uncertain if he got what he wanted. Such occurrences were common in this area. It was a rundown part of the city. Littered with people who were either shady or had no other option because of lack of funds. As the sun started to set, the street became more lively. More little tiffs, but nothing worth worrying about. It wasn't until after dinner when something potentially promising happened. There were a couple of ladies who appeared on a certain corner. They didn't seem suspicious. They were just chatting after all. What was under their outwear was uncertain, but they were wearing what might have appeared to be dressy boots with heels.

The first semester of LeVane academy for him surprisingly flew by, and Dajanté attended more classes than he would like to admit (though he's skipped his fair share, that much is for sure). He really didn't make all that many friends, which again, isn't surprising in the least for him. The only thing that miffed him was Sophie's absence, so he spent way more time in the gym than normal for him (and Yoshiro, subsequently). He didn't talk all that much with his roommate so now that the teen was going to be starting classes officially, Dajanté hoped to see him more (mostly because it was actually getting kind of lonely in the room). Dajanté didn't think he improved all that much regarding his ability, but at least he could control it a little better (he thought). If only he could just summon a minor hurricane though—how sick would that be?!

One thing that really bothered Dajanté was that he still didn't know what to do, make his occupation for the long-run. Lawrence really had him questioning this since their "longest" conversation, despite the fact that he had mostly brushed it off to focus on school work instead during the first semester (a rarity for him in and of itself considering how much homework bores him). Dajanté once thought he knew what he wanted from life back when he got in with the wrong crowd in middle school, but things certainly changed after reality struck back in the guise of a blue uniform.

Now he was given the chance of a final decision for himself through the means of a "real" mission, so the LeVane student intended to take the opportunity very seriously, take it in from a critical standpoint coupled with the question: is the risk worth the turn-out? Dajanté prided himself on his ability to save and protect others, but he hated inflicting violence itself on others, even "villains." That being said, defense was really the best position the teen could ever hope for. Watching the offense inflict damage and possibly receive it in return was going to be painful though, Dajanté knew this, but unfortunately not everything can go his way. He just hoped she'd take only minimal damage.

Least we got an strong healer, Dajanté idly wondered, glancing the purple-haired girl's way. Said her name was Amethyst in the information packet, right? Janté didn't pay all that much attention to it, so he couldn't be too sure. What he did remember was that the break-down was definitely sound to him, so he had some faith in his team's ability to complete their mission. Dajanté assumed patrolling was too easy, but it also depended on where you patrolled.

And what he wasn't expecting was this dilapidated, stanky-a** town. Place kind of gave him the creeps, and had him second-guessing his decision to do this field mission adventure. Definitely helping me to decide a'right, Dajanté sighed, looking away from the buildings and adjusting his mask. Welp, all he could do was hope that only some minor action occurred at the least, although that was kind of hard when their teammate on the offensive role looked a little too much on the excited side. Their "chaperone" was had yet to artfully disappear, so perhaps they were going to get briefing or something before they were released to keep themselves, perhaps set up a base somewhere.

At least, Dajanté figured it'd be smart to set up some kind of base rather than travel in a group of four like they started, attracting who-knows-what. Janté patted the top of his head to make an itch go away and stuffed his hands into his windbreaker's pockets. The air was alarmingly mild today, which dampened Dajanté's mood considerably and definitely worried him. Mild winds made it a lot harder for him to summon cyclones, so if he actually had to really defend not only his teammates, but innocent bystanders as well, he was going to have a hell of a time. Swear if some big news pops up I'm ********' outta dis program.

Perhaps it was about time he got some sort of fan-supports...

"Well... that is interesting."


Hero suit:

Out.Of.Cosplays: How Hwan Sees

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓


Today was just not his day. Correction, any day of the week wasn’t. This man had to wake up at some ungodly hour, which was probably around 8 A.M if we wanted to be honest. But what made this far more unholy was having to be assigned to this Field Day event. Yeah, he trained the little s**t heads who signed up for his class, but that didn’t mean he wanted to babysit them in the city. He just didn’t have it in him to watch them all forget their training and fail on a simple mission. It went without saying that the Combat Professor did not sleep well that day.

The tealnette was assigned to a rather unimpressive group of students. He was thoroughly aware of each young adult's incapabilities than whatever potential may have lingered on the tips of their fingers. But he was there to chaperone the young adults in their endeavor to be Heroes or whatever they wished for in the future. It was a good thing that Saya broke down what they were all supposed to be doing before the event: Patrol Barnaby Lane and keep the peace (in some flimsy little piece of paper that the students could have missed). That was oversimplifying a lot of things but he would leave it to the students to interpret what “peace” meant to them. After all, he was meant to observe them and not get in the way of their assignment. Saya had made it a point that he was not going to be assisting them on their mission. They were on their own today.

You had Dajanté Le'noir, the Weather Manipulator who would be acting as Defense. They had already looked in the boy’s file, something he created for himself to keep tabs on everyone that was or would be involved in his rigorous training. Hailstorm had an impressive track record regarding his visit with the Gym. When it came to honing his body and keeping in shape, this was the man that was nearly head and shoulders above the rest. But it took more than a healthy body to impress Saya.

Amethyst Hues, the Health Manipulator and the team’s Support. If the brats needed a capable healing peculiarity than it was one of the best in the schools. Now, if the girl was actually capable of using their God Tier gift was a completely different story. For all this tealnette could give a damn about, she could screw everything over and kill her own teammates. Ugh! The paperwork for that one would be a real b**** to fill out.

And the others? They were ******** no shows or terribly late! He didn’t need to waste any of his precious gray cells on people who didn’t want to take this whole event seriously not that this man was one to talk. He was, after all, not meeting them in Barnaby Lane. One lesson the kids needed to know was this: Not everything goes according to plan. They could complain or whatever about him not being there. He honestly didn’t give a damn. The kids had enough hand-holding in their life, it was time for reality to slap them across their face.

The Combat Professor got a call on his intercom that a student would be joining their group. 'Sure, bring them over. I’ve got nothing better to do with my life anyways.' Though those exact lines weren’t tossed to the person communicating with him, it held a similar message. Their new member of this group would be one Gael Yoshito. His peculiarity seemed to steam around Carbon within his body. Well, it might have gone deeper than that but he had very little interest right now. Even when Gael came bounding over to them in their outfit, he shrugged from the shadows. Nothing of great importance was happening and the kiddies were just trying to be something they weren’t right now.

And the universe wasn’t helping at this exact moment. Seemed like a scuffle of sorts was happening, meaning it was his cue to buzz off and watch. "Good luck." He told himself that before watching the kiddies go into action. The teal male said in a dry tone before shifting his form to look like your everyday crow. They flapped away from the group and nestled on a high enough building’s roof to keep an eye on things. He really did get comfortable in his spot and it was at a safe enough distance to be away from all the fighting. Some fellow crow members joined him and watched the spectacle. It seemed like some birds were placing bets on who would die today. Oh, the joy of fellow like-minded creatures.

[Saya will, by no means, provide assistance for the mission. Unless your character is about to get creamed/die, he will be watching and judging you all from the shadows. Good luck everyone!]



┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛




show spoilerhide spoiler
Katze Allemon-Schatten


Bubblegum Bishonen


shinesnowillusion


Light and Dark Prince


Just Rosa