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 Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2014 4:14 pm
   Gabriel, Aurelio, and fellow members. Playtime's over folks! Kitchen to Training Room the Gypsy's Catsuit
Different shades amongst the team were becoming more evident with each passing moment. Two in particular, Aurelio and Dahlia, actually shared common knowledge of mythical subjects. At least some understood her abilities to be fact, not fiction. A smirk of confidence graced Isis's features as Aurelio spoke of her abilities. He compared it to his own, except noting that he only used it when necessary and had a different method for seeing the future. "That's understandable, but don't Tarot cards leave events more to chance?!" Isis questioned the time-traveling magician. Her visions were never wrong. Never. It made her an asset to this team, just like everyone else. Hell, that's why she was here, right?! Nevertheless, she would soon defend her honor from Mr.Clyne. She beckoned Gabriel with her hand, wanting him to take it. While he seemed to contemplate his decision with fate, Elke laid into him thick. Sticks and stones may break our bones but words will cut like blades! Isis couldn't help but chuckle as the blonde attempted to knock this b*****d off his high horse. If Isis couldn't succeed in doing so, somebody would.
Isis turned her attentions from the little dispute as Mason acknowledged her presence. "It's nice to see you to, my Iron Knight." The seductress playfully winked at the man. She was happy to have gotten a word in before Mason went all chummy on Gabriel. "Oh, please; Don't blow his head up more than it already it is. He might take flight if we aren't careful." A roll of her eyes showed her growing animosity to the so-called superstar. At least Lola was providing some cheerful energy. The atlantean girl was just adorable! Isis made a mental note that she would need to take the girl on a trip to the mall or something when they had free time. Dahlia was also friendly; in her own way, of course. Isis actually found it amusing how the english language of this age befuddled Dahlia. The demon seemed to take interest in Isis's form of divination. This interest brought up information about oracles she had in hell. Isis shuddered slightly at the thought. She could only imagine seeing some creature from Pandora's box trying to take people's fortune. Of course, it was of more use to Isis than those creatures in the depths of hell. "To be honest, it saves lives. At least until that vision of the future becomes permanent without any scenario being capable of changing it." Isis shrugged at her own response. It was not cowardly to use this gift of sight to save a life. Although not every fate could be altered, as Isis has learned firsthand, it doesn't hurt to try.
Gabriel finally outstretched his hand to hers, and Isis gripped it. The male probably thought he had gotten under her skin with his childish remarks. In truth, Isis simply wanted a reason to instill fear into his ego. With a touch, Isis could know anything and everything. Hopefully he didn't have too many skeletons in the closet because Isis would not hesitate to use it against him. The gypsy leaned in close with her chocolate orbs staying on him. "I know the world doesn't revolve around me, but your world is about to." Isis coyed smoothly. Always suave, even when she was trying to prove a point. With her last words spoke, Isis activated her ability. Her chocolate brown orbs disappeared as they rolled into the back of her head. Isis stood as still as a statue as the vision began to play before her eyes like a tape.
A man and a boy sat at the dinner table, simply eating an evening meal. Her brows furrowed as she held onto Gabriel's hand. The girl was finding basic information on the male as the scenario played out before her eyes. Why? That she was unsure of. Her visions usually gave her the information she wanted and then would give her further insights based upon what she needed to see in that moment. The seen of the father and son eating shifted to a nurse's office. Isis saw the boy again. Her sight moved in for a closer view, noting that the boy was indeed Gabriel. 'He definitely had his good looks from birth.' Isis thought to herself. Gabriel's younger self began changing colors, freaking out the nurse tending to him. The scene shifted once more to him speaking with his father. She couldn't hear everything being exchanged between the two, but she heard what she needed. The word Martian stood with her as she was released from her dream like state.
The kitchen came back into view as she let go of Gabriel's hand. "Well, he's definitely a shape shifter, Mason." She joked, partially giving the man credit for his deduction that Gabe could have possessed this power. "Not natural powers though. Your daddy trouble actually breathed new life into you, hm?!" Only Gabriel would get what she was referring to. It seemed daddy fed the poor boy martian DNA after taking him from his mother. Not only did he act in soap operas, but he had lived one! She felt as if she should apologize for his family troubles, only to remember that she hated apologies. No point in furthering this little display of power as the fun continued...
The team had work to do, as evidenced by Deacon's sudden call over their comm devices. "Playtime is over kiddies." Isis sassed as she winked at Gabriel to return the one he had given earlier. Two could play at this game; that was for damn sure. The egyptian beauty exited the kitchen to grab her uniform from her room. It was time to suit up, and get down to business!
~Training Room~
The gypsy was one of the first to enter the Training room. Her work ethic was to blame for that. Then again, she was just excited to be wearing this specially designed suit she put an order in for when she arrived at the Tower. It was a catsuit made out of flexible leather that extended down to cover her feet like a onesie, except the bottom of her feet had grips on them. A green cloth sash with an eye shaped pendant made up her accessories for this uniform. She had wrapped a sheet of green silk around both her wrists, effectively turning her secondary power into a fashion statement. Isis threw her hair up into a high ponytail since she was unsure of what type of training would take place today. No matter what, she would be prepared to take on the task laid before her. "Beats the costume I tried to throw together..." Isis laughed to herself as she remembered what she used to wear before joining the League. Yikes!
Out Of Chili: Jumbled Post~ If I missed anything just let me know!
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 1:49 pm
 ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇsᴇʀᴛ sᴀɴᴅs ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ  Sand. Sand according to definition is a granular material composed of fine rock and mineral particles. It's composition is highly variable, but a majority of sand is composed of silica, which is usually found in quartz. The most common places sand is found is in desert and beach settings. And many deserts and beaches have one thing in common besides the sand: both are pretty hot. For Aman Azlano, he can't say the same for Metropolis. It didn't suit his climate fancy. It was too cold. The sun didn't beat down on your head or shoulders enough with it's illuminating heat. And he doesn't have the pleasure of feeling sand under his feet.
He loved his home. It was a harsh life he lived. Barbaric, lawless, dangerous. But it was home. A home he was likely not going to return to anytime soon. The Justice League was going to be where he will live now, with other people with interesting stories, powers, and skills that he couldn't find in Islambad, Pakistan. Where his past life as a criminal and eventually gang leader, won't come back to haunt him. Where he could help people with their problems instead of trying to harm them. Where life wasn't about whether you will be able to live past today, or whether you will have something to eat for dinner tonight.
Black dress shoe heels clicked on the asphalt of the streets, as Aman made his way towards where he would be staying for a while. The newly renovated Watchtower. He chose his clothes based on making a good first impression, as he believed looking like a street rat was not the way to go to impress the Justice League. Blue dress slacks, Blue dress jacket, white dress shirt and a sand colored tie was his choice of wear. Sunglasses hid his hazel eyes and his black hair was combed to perfection. He didn't shave his face though, believing that just the right amount of facial hair will say one thing: he is a man. Not a boy.
He stood at the door of the Watchtower and slowly composed himself. After adjusting his tie and his jacket, he parted the doors into the Headquarters of the Justice League and took his first few steps into it's hallowed halls. A smile slowly formed on his lips as he took off his sunglasses and put them into his dress jacket's pocket. It was every bit as impressive as the rumors said. He went up to the desk and looked at the receptionist. She asked if he was Aman Azlano, and he answered, "Why yes darling, I am him."
Apparently his reputation proceeded him as she already knew he was a recently inducted member of the Justice League, even though his list of crimes was long. She informed him that the rest of the team was waiting in the training room for him and after a kiss on her hand, he left to join his new teammates in the training room.
~Training Room, Enter Aman Azlano~
Apparently he was not the first to arrive. When he rounded the corner and was about to enter, he heard a young woman comment about an old costume she used to wear. Adjusting his tie, and running his hand through his hair, he looked at his reflection in a glass pane and said, "Perfect," to himself before he rounded the corner and leaned back against the wall, beholding the form of the gypsy known as Isis, "Well I am sure any costume would look stunning on a woman such as yourself," he said, his exotic accent making what he said sound extra special.
And she certainly was a looker.
ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs || In a pleasant moodxx ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ || Watchtowerxx ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ || Isis  ʟᴀʏᴏᴜᴛ ʙʏ ᴜᴛsᴜᴋᴜsʜɪ ᴛᴏʀɢʀɪᴛᴀ
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)(Over.Dose.On.Cyanide)( Crew
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 8:29 pm
Savanna gave the Atlantean a shrug. "It is to me." And it was true enough to her. She knew all the best spots, secret sales, and best deals (though don’t let that be confused with cheapest.). Though with the girls next question, Savanna simply lifted an eyebrow before shaking her head. There was no way she was going to go running around the city just because. It was dirty and crowded down there, and commen. Not that that she was a princess or anything, but she was above it. Unless a mission called for such action, she would decline.
"Have you tried flipflops?" Savanna suggested with a wave of her hand. "They’re the closest socially acceptable way to being barefoot you can get." She paused as added as an afterthought, "If you have nice looking feet that is. Don’t wear them if you have cracked busted looking feet."
Her chocolate orbs made their way to Aurelio, a small smile playing over her lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere with me." She said sweetly. "Especially when I see you using it on everyone." Always the charmer. Her eyes went back to the group in front of her, watching as two more members joined them.
Deacon dished out orders, to which Savanna rolled her eyes. She could only imagine the pointless stuff he had planned for them. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too draining. She had other things she wanted to get accomplished today. She gave a yawn as she turned and left the room, accepting the meeting time as a dismissal for now. She didn’t bother so say anything to anyone as she left. They all seemed to be absorbed in their own conversations, so she wouldn’t be missed. She also didn’t want to be around that demon thing any longer than she had to be.
She pulled her phone from between her breast and wiped it on her pants before beginning to answer the text she had neglected for her workout and the mini meeting. She headed straight to the next meeting area, seeing no reason to shower. After all, she didn’t smell yet, and what was the point if you were just going to get sweaty again?
------ Training Area ------
Savanna sat there, let legs crossed and face buried in her phone. She had decided to simply wait the forty-five minutes. A sigh passed her lips as she looked at the time before hitting the sleep button on her phone. Quietly she stuffed it back into her shirt, watching the others begin to gather. Isis and a new fellow she hadn’t met seemed to be among the first so show.
She gave another sigh as she rose to her feet and began to stretch. She should have still been warmed up from her session that morning, but it wouldn’t help to make sure. Hopefully someone she actually liked would show up soon. She didn’t feel like much like making small talk with the new kids. It just seemed too… Simple. And who knew if they would even stick around. Too many people had come and gone already. She felt no need to actually get to know anyone, at least not right away.
Vanna almost thought that Deacon would show first, but of course he had been called to his office. Hopefully that would be cleared up soon. 
╔═════════════════════╗
Location: Kitchen
Thoughts: Meh
╚═════════════════════╝
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 2:18 pm
 Aurelio could not help but simply smile at the accusation thrown his way by the feline woman, that he was simply trying to flatter her with his constant barrage of compliments. He dismissed the notion as immediately as it was thrown in his direction. "My dear, flattery is the absolute least of my intentions. Were I to do so I would actually be trying. So far I have only ever told the truth as I see it. Can a gentlemen not simply tell the truth without being accused of underhanded aims?" Of course, he was only teasing, but that made his compliments no less true to him. Aurelio was, above all else, a gentleman, and one of the prime directives of a gentleman was to always be sure to let an attractive woman know just how beautiful they were. A gentleman was direct, as well as eloquent. "I speak only the truth, in polished words, as I see it. It is the sorcerer's trade, after all." He, of all people, knew of the power of words. The right words could literally move entire worlds out of alignment. One gifted with magic would know of the power held even in the simplest of sentences and phrases, even without said magic.
The young sorcerer could not help but be amused by the rather chipper Atlantean girl and her general air of bounciness. It was a welcome addition to the team that, so far, seemed to be made up of mostly rather negative personalities. Sure, they would sometimes have fun, but for the most part they all tended to be rather grim most of the time. Their own leader even seemed all too eager to wallow in his own self-pity most of the time. Even his most frequent acquaintance, Savanna, seemed unwilling to get along with anyone more than she needed to; he seemed to be the only one lucky enough to be able to pierce her uninviting shell. The others were often far too serious, or at least just unwilling to open up the way he would have liked. It was no wonder they were not much of a team so far. It certainly did not help matters that several of the members simply insisted on finding excuses to fight each other instead of finding some kind of common ground. This team still clearly had a long way to go, but it was a breath of fresh air to see someone who was so willing to enjoy themselves and just have such a bright and shining personality.
The Atlantean spoke about the king of Atlantis with greatest possible amount of pride, and he was more than happy to hear that someone as wise and great as Orin still had the throne to a nation as powerful and as ancient as Atlantis. At least, if he was at least half the man that the Aquaman of his own world was, then he was still too great a king for most nations. This was a man that, in his world, had defied death itself during the Black Lantern crisis. He was almost disappointed when he'd originally learned that he was not a member of this time's Justice League, as he would have loved to have been able to work side by side with him. But at the very least Atlantis was still represented, and he was happy about that. "I am happy to hear that, Lola. Atlantis deserves a ruler as great and wise as King Orin. I've been to Atlantis once, but it was a different time… a much, much different time." Thanks to his travels with M, Aurelio was actually one of the very few people able to see the great continent before it was submerged. Needless to say, it would likely be a very different, and no doubt surreal, experience if he was to visit the underwater continent today. "One can only hope the next ruler is so wise and kind."
He'd turned his attention toward the conversation of divination and its various forms. There were many different forms of it that different people used. Some people used crystals and other methods of scrying, such as mirrors or water. Tea leaves had been a favorite of his mentor's, as well as the African and Caribbean practice of using chicken bones. One of Aurelio's favorite methods was the use of runic magic. But the most reliable, at least to him, was always the Tarot. He laughed lightheartedly at the Romani's notion that the Tarot left things to chance, waving away the notion but not mocking her for it; he could understand why the uninitiated would believe so. "My dear, one of the very first things a wizard learns is that there is no such thing as chance. The universe, no matter which universe, is alive and wills things to be exactly as they were meant to." The Tarot may be cryptic, but it was never as random as others would think it was. If anything, the Tarot merely spoke to the chaos of the universe and of magic itself. A creature like this Dahlia of Violence was one living testament to such chaos. He tried not to cringe as the demoness spoke of such dark things, and chalk it up to the nature of the way she had lived before coming to this world, but it was difficult to appear comfortable when subjects so cimmerian were discussed. Difficult, but not impossible.
He so hated violence, and while he by no means hated the demoness, he could not help but regard her with some degree of suspicion. The fact that she came from a dimension devoted solely to bloodshed in some way, shape, or form, made her something of a wild card in his mind. The last thing this team needed was someone who would fly off the handle at the drop of a dime. He hated to stereotype, but a creature from a dimension of violence did not rise to the top of the food chain and rule over it by being kind, or even stable. Time would eventually tell.
The one named Gabriel seemed rather hell bent on annoying the Romani woman with his words and mannerisms, and while it did bother him that someone was so devoted to trying to raise someone's ire in such a way, Isis seemed to be managing herself just fine, so he did not feel forced to rush to her defense. More of a surprise was finding out that the man appeared to be some kind of celebrity. Elke kept mentioning the fact in her conversation, and this was further solidified when the team's resident iron shifter came in and practically begged him for pictures, claiming other members of his family were fans of his. He might actually have to watch some of his films at some point, though he rarely watched films much nowadays. Especially since it was nearly impossible to find non-digital copies of the medium these days. He was curious about the subject matter, but not curious to actually say anything on it. Whatever information about the man's career would be divulged soon enough if he stuck around long enough. He noticed from the corner of his eye while the others interacted that Savanna slipped away. He decided he would do that as well, as he would have liked some personal time before he needed to meet up with the others. Besides, he could use a shower and a change of clothes while he was at it. He quietly bowed out of the scene and made his way to his room.
As he opened his door, he wove his staff toward the inside of the room. "Ors d olpirt!" he exclaimed. He could feel the energy within his being burning through him, a completely painless experience, and through his staff. He could feel the mixture of his will, his internal magical energy reserves, and the faith in him swirl through the oak wood in his staff. Within moments every window in his room that brought light from the outside world suddenly opened its curtains to reveal sunlight. The parts of his room that were not illuminated by the sunlight suddenly had flames appear atop the wicks of the candles sitting there. Unlike the other suites in this building, Aurelio's room did not have one trace of modern technology within, or even technology from the past that was just advanced enough. This meant there was not even such a thing as light bulbs or even a television. In the middle of his room, just in front of his bed, was a rather large circle drawn into the floor, with all kinds of archaic symbols drawn around and within it that would mean significantly more to Aurelio than the other members of the team, the most important of them being the large pentagram. He set his coat at the foot of his bed, an orb accidentally falling from one of the pockets. He grabbed the orb before it could fall, looking at it and smiling. "Sorry about that, Ariadne," he said to the nude figure within before placing it on the rim of a chalice sitting on his dresser. He quickly undressed himself and went into the shower.
After showering and dressing himself, he spent the rest of the time till their supposed upcoming training session mostly playing songs on his guitar and singing along to them on his bed. He played several different pieces of music, contemporary and otherwise, but he mostly stuck to folk songs and shanties, among his favorite pieces of music. He strummed the strings carefully as he sang along to the music, the words and the notes ingrained in his head. "When his eyes and his teeth hang before me, with his hands and his feet down bowed, and with a tarry gasket there I killed him, for I would not hear his cries below. I wouldn't hear his cries below. Now all you captains that go out a-navyin', take a fair advice by me-" But he could not continue the lyric, for soon he was interrupted by a message coming from his communicator, though it came out with great static and it was difficult to hear. "Dammit," he said out loud. His communicator was dying. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He got the gidst of the message, that it was time to come to the training room, so he set down his guitar and stood. He grabbed one of his many coats, a Victorian frock, and slipped it on. He grabbed his hat, as well as a few supplies he slipped into the pockets of his coat, and finally his staff(still only about the size of a cane).
He used the stairs to find his way toward the training area, not wanting to risk the elevator shorting on him any time soon. As he made his way inside, he took note that Isis was there with yet another new face he did not recognize. But he also saw Savanna, as typical, with her attention buried in what he presumed to be an ever-expanding volume of text messages that threatened to trump the great novels of old in length. He stepped toward the woman casually, offering her his usual smile. "I have not checked, but there would not happen to be an assembly line somewhere in this building where they keep producing new members for this team, would there?" he asked Savanna in a joking manner, referring of course to the sudden influx of newer members that had been coming in today. Without warning, a sudden spark seemed to fly out of his communicator. He pulled the device off his wrist then and stared at it with a somewhat disappointed look on his face, as if he were a child who just dropped his ice cream cone. The device was officially dead. "Well, that's that," he said through a slight grimace before turning again toward Savanna. "Technology and I have a… complicated relationship."
A silent melody, a surface memory,
A sound symphony became a part of me.
A sudden shift between a different frequency.
My hand has spread the sea. It's like there's a god in me.
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Posted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 11:55 am
XXXXXXXXXXXX[✺] Power: Umbrakinesis
XXXXXXXXXXXX[✺] Thoughts: MIA to Team Training Session?
XXXXXXXXXXXX[✺] Location: Watch Tower ✺ Darkness ✺ The absence of Light Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be there ... Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear ...
And I can't help but ask myself how much I let the fear take the wheel and steer ... ... With open arms and open eyes yeah  Yet again the response Mason issued to her through his cellular device failed to surprise her in the least. While he did possess a serious side to him, as she'd discovered to her surprise a few weeks ago, he only deviated to it when a situation actually required it. She appreciated that he was, at the very least, able to recognize there was a time and place for his antics. More so, she appreciated that he had gone out of his way for her and Lincoln and she intended to find a way to properly thank the iron man. Now, however, was not the time and place for that as they had been beckoned by Deacon to a meeting. Nevertheless the thought was on her mind and just exactly how she'd go about thanking a goof like Mason was puzzling her.
'Thanks for the tip, sweet heart, I knew you were always watching out for me! I'll leave the heavy lifting to you. =3'
Having been conditioned by the best of the best (Mason) when it came to being tormented with the incessant teasing, Elke was actually not taken aback by Gabriel's comment to her, in fact she had already been formulating a response. It was simply another Mason scenario as far as she was concerned, just with a celebrity who happened to act. The one benefit of having Mason around was that it definitely kept her on her toes in terms of wits. "More like an implication of your future if you choose to rub me the wrong way, Mr. Clyne. " She offered him a quick wink and a smile to lighten her threat though it wasn't entirely a harmless one. If he did decide to do anything funny she certainly wouldn't hesitate to kick herself into gear. She had her eye on him and she honestly didn't care if he knew it or not.
Next Deacon responded to her briefly, informing her that she had apparently read his mind and he had, in fact, been organizing a team training exercise. It was a slight relief that Deacon at least recognized there was absolutely not way this team was ready to function on an actual mission yet. How they'd survived the turmoils of the first two were honestly beyond her and could probably be attributed with nothing other than sheer dumb luck. "Oh thank someone else's god. We need the training badly. Those first two missions were disasters." They were likely the laughing stock of the league: something that didn't sit well with the prideful, perfectionist officer. Hopefully training could teach them to work as a unit and whip everyone into better shape. It was a lot to hope for considering the team they had but hope was the only thing she could do at the moment for this team of misfits.
When he abruptly disappeared without a word of explanation, however, Elke frowned and her hopes were almost immediately dashed. If he couldn't be punctual and show up to his own planned meetings, how on earth was he expecting someone as whimsical as Mason to respect his authority? He could have at least offered up an explanation and communicated to them. Communication was vital when it came to team work and if their own leader couldn't nail it down then they were definitely in more trouble than Elke initially theorized.
Like most of the others within the room, she couldn't help but be taken in by one of the more refreshing new recruits. Lola's amiability was undeniable with her absolutely adorable and positive outlook on everything. Out of all the new members, Elke would have to agree with Aurelio that the Atlantean was definitely the most refreshing and welcome addition to the team. It renewed a small glimmer of hope within the umbrakinetic, however, the arrival of Gabriel Clyne almost seemed to cancel that out as far as she was concerned. He was utterly obnoxious. The demon recruit honestly seemed like a wild card to her, she wasn't obnoxious but she certainly wasn't contrary by any means. And Isis, as she'd already decided was yet another character the officer would be wanting to keep her eye on.
As soon as Mason arrived to the kitchen, he practically bee-lined toward Gabriel Cline, eliciting a small giggle from Elke. He was like a star struck fan boy that had just discovered his favourite superhero on t.v. was actually a real person. She was almost tempted to say it was cute. Her giggle intensified slightly when he offered his family up as tribute in attempts to disguise his fan boy crush, even more so when he threw his brother under the bus. She would have to be sure to keep this golden moment as ammo for the iron man later. It was definitely something that would be enjoyable to tease him about. He almost always seemed to have the one up on her so it would be nice to have the tables turned in her favour for a change. Maybe this was a sign that today was going to turn out to be a lucky one.
When Isis chided Mason for feeding Gabriel's ego, the officer couldn't help but nod her head in agreement. They definitely didn't need to inflate him more than he already had been by his career and his money. She could already tell the actor was a royal douche and she had just met him. Part of her was wary of Mason forming a bond with him, mostly in the fear that they would tag team her with their nattering and fuel one another's obnoxious sides. "Mason never struck me as a Gabriel Clyne fan but the way he forgot everyone in the room existed but him and practically peed his pants when he saw him definitely says otherwise." She uttered her last line with crossed arms and an amused smirk. Behind the smirk, however, she was also pondering Isis' words before that: she had referred to Mason as her Iron Knight which clearly implied she'd met him before. Just how they knew each other remained a mystery but it certainly hadn't failed to slip Elke's attentive notice.
She listened in with interest as the Gypsy began reading the obnoxious actor's palms with her ability. The results she yielded were certainly impressive from the short amount of time she spent scrying the man. She informed them all that Gabriel was a shape shifter, likely explaining his ability to perfectly take on his roles in films in the physical aspect. He always looked absolutely perfect when cast in each role and she'd always wondered how. Well, now she knew. On top of that Isis mentioned that his powers weren't natural. That also peaked Elke's interest. Had he been experimented on like her? Or was there another way he'd acquired his abilities? Perhaps she'd find out in the future.
With Deacon's announcement that they were to meet in the training room, however, the officer chose to embark upon the order with a sigh. It would have saved so much time if he'd just bothered to tell them where to meet to begin with. It just served as a reminder of exactly how much work this team had to do before they would be anywhere near ready to function on the field and Elke, for one, wasn't particularly looking forward to it.
_______________
Training Room
_______________
The officer was diligent and punctual as always, arriving to the training room very briefly after Isis and yet another new recruit she did not recognize and had not been introduced to. Savanna also happened to be there and as per usual she was her downright cheery self. Unlike the three who had already made it to the training room, Elke donned absolutely zero costume gear. She had come in a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans: completely and utterly casual. Suiting up just didn't seem practical to her unless she was going to wear something ridiculous like armor which also served as more of an inconvenience than anything. Instead, she chose to wear what was comfortable and familiar.
She then turned her head to take note of Aurelio's technical difficulties and couldn't help but chuckle at the utterly disappointed expression on his face. It wasn't one of irritation even mildly, it was legitimate disappointment that the device had chosen to malfunction on him. It didn't seem to malfunction by natural means so she couldn't help but wonder if he'd somehow tried to tweak it unsuccessfully. She didn't know a lot about the construction of gadgets herself though she certainly used many of them. "Having some trouble over there?" She quipped with a smirk. "It's only been a couple weeks and you've already made pretty quick work of that comm device. If you go through them at this rate you're going to owe the league a debt." Her words were pure playfulness and not intended to cause the wizard any distress whatsoever.
✺ I'm beginning to find that ✺ ✺ When I ✺ ✺ Drive ✺ ✺ Myself ✺ ✺ My Light is Found ✺
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Posted: Thu Feb 06, 2014 2:29 pm
☠ є▬т▬н▬α▬и ▬ ם▬α▬ω▬и ☠
☠ ℓ♦σ♦c♦α♦т♦ι♦σ♦и ➽ т♦я♦α♦ι♦и♦ι♦и♦ɢ ♦ я♦σ♦σ♦м ☠ 
Ethan had left after the fiasco that was the team’s last mission. His faith in the team over and the man’s departure had intended to be a permanent one. Picking up where he’d left off when it came to hunting down certain people and taking on a mission here and there to keep up the funds. It was the life he was used to. Saving people in that manner was not anything that the ex-spy was used to. He wasn’t made to be good. Morally gray was where he lived. Anybody who thought the world was as black and white as Good vs Evil was a fool.
Unfortunately, he had been found again to his annoyance and told that a commitment had been made. As if that was supposed to mean anything to the ex-spy. And yet, here he was heading back to headquarters to give everything a try again. His annoyance hidden behind the usual look of indifference. His attire simple in that he was dressed in pants, a t-shirt, boots, and a leather jacket. A suitcase including some of his gear being carried along with him.
Entering the building housing the team, the ex-spy headed straight for the room that was to be his. Any people he passed were completely ignored. Upon entering his room, the suitcase was thrown on the bed. Looking around the room to see what he had to work with, it was clear to Ethan that there would need to be some remodeling done. For now, however, it seemed that Deacon was calling some kind of team meeting or something like that. Looking at the communicator, the man considered simply ignoring the summons. That would be less of a headache in the long run.
Leaving the room and ensuring the door was locked behind him, the ex-spy headed for the training room. With any luck this would be quick. The walk wasn’t terribly long, after all Ethan had been provided a map the first time and had studied it so he could get around, so as Ethan entered the room and gave a look around, he raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. “Didn’t Phantom call the meeting from this room?” The ex-spy asked the room. It was bad form in his mind to call a meeting and not be the first one present.
Apparently there were a few new members since the last time he’d been with the team. Not terribly surprising everything considered. The team was bound to grow. Taking position away from the door, the man didn’t move to sit. Standing was just fine. Gaze traveling over the members present, eyes lingering on those he was familiar with for a moment or two longer. What the hell was taking the leader so long? Did he stop to smell the flowers? Really the only excuse that would be okay in Ethan’s mind was he was dead, but none of his thoughts were for anyone else.
This was taking much longer than it needed to.
(OOC: Nothing special... PM me if I missed something.)
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Posted: Thu Feb 06, 2014 8:30 pm
 NIGHTWING The effect that he had on the brunette woman wasn't lost on him. He was used to it by now, really. All types of people jumped whenever he was around – friend and foe. It just meant that he had the element of surprise on his side, and that was useful in many different situations. For combat, easily, but for another reason all together. Some psychological studies showed a person showed their true nature within the first few seconds of meeting a new, unexpected person before their psychological 'shield' kicked in. This allowed him to make better assessments of people.
Also, he kind of got a sick sense of enjoyment out of it.
Deacon made some sort of comment about him not having to wear his "costume" while in the confines of the Watchtower. Nightwing's gaze tightened on the man, smoldering. "Costume". As if he was some sort of circus act. Like it wasn't a completely functional suit that helped him in his crime fighting endeavors. He let the insult slide for now – Deacon probably didn't mean it. The whole "colleague" thing stuck in his head, though. They had met once. And now they were supposed to be great friends?
Gabriella started with the pleasantries, holding her hand out for him to shake. Nightwing took it and only squeezed for a brief moment before letting go as she explained her role on the team. Now he had a name and role to place in the mental file, as well as possible superhuman ability. Something to do with healing, probably, but it was still unclear as to what that entailed. Now that he thought about it, not many people tried to shake his hand – he was considered 'unapproachable' by a great many.
Deacon took the job of explaining who he was, which Nightwing didn't mind, but he couldn't help but smolder once again at the team leader when he mentioned something about uncovering his secret identity. What the hell was this guy's issue? Just because he was unfrozen by Batman didn't give him exclusive rights to look under Nightwing's mask. Nightwing didn't see the importance of it, anyways. Nightwing was really who he was. Michael Sinclair was more of a formality, now. The rest of his allies, in few in number as they were, didn't care much for finding out who he was. He came in. He did his job. He left. What else was there to know?
This might be a problem.
When Deacon invited him down to the training room and mentioned his identity once again, Nightwing almost visibly scowled. He fell into line behind Deacon, the scowl slowly becoming plastered to his face. If he didn't look slightly miffed before, he certainly did now. Deacon signaled to the rest of the team to meet down in the training room, and that was when Nightwing decided it was the best time to speak.
"If you really consider me a 'colleague', as you've stated, I hope that you would respect my wishes and not invade my privacy," he said. That was really what Deacon was passively-aggressively threatening to do, wasn't it? He wanted to pry open the locks that he had over his life, locks that he secured there for a reason. Nightwing really didn't want someone like Deacon with the only piece of information he kept sacred – it would only be a matter of time before word spread.
There was a pause, and Nightwing was seriously considering saying screw it to the whole thing and just leaving when two menacing-looking people came around the corner. Immediately Nightwing tensed, although it was difficult to tell from the fact that his cape draped over his entire body. Clandestinely and without much movement, he grabbed two Batarangs, one in each hand. People that armed and dressed the same way couldn't mean too well. However, he waited for them to make the first move. To the outside observer, Nightwing had merely stopped and dipped his head slightly. He was ready for battle, though. He didn't like the overall vibe that the two gave off… he knew that he had felt something similar before, but he couldn’t place it.
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 8:20 pm
 d r e a m i n g about the things ↺ t h a t . w e could be
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxWe'll be counting stars yeah we'll be counting stars
Her dark hair swayed with her shrug when Deacon bade her to blame his parents for insisting upon formalities. It reminded her that, even though they came from the same era, they were still so different from each other. His world had been one of pain, misery and wealth. Hers had been full of love and blessings with a meager, quiet existence. For a short while, their lives had intertwined, but they likely had more differences than things in common. "Powerful people." She repeated, almost mocking him for how he made it sound important. On her side of the pond those names meant little. "And powerful people, I guess.. don't go by their first name." She said, clearly teasing him by using the exact words her mother had.
His logic on not knowing about the exact details of his abilities was stuffed full of logical fallacies, but Gabriella decided the topic would be one she'd have to wear him down on - hopefully before the team was called out to help again. Holding back couldn't accidentally cause more chaos than they ran into... but being an untested super guinea pig might come with more than he bargained for, where the havoc he wreaked was worse than the initial problem.
The job at the tower already sounded cushy - lodgings, pay... help with medical school... She smiled at the opportunities coming to Metropolis granted, a notion that Deacon most assuredly didn't miss. Pointing to the wall next to him, he mentioned that his room was close, which caused her to snicker. "Thanks, but with as large as the tower is... I'm sure I won't have to bunk with you - even if it's my first night here." She said, teasing when he said it wasn't much, but more than enough. "Though it's good to know where I can find you, should I feel the need to pester you later."
After apologizing for the interruption she'd caused to his training session, he easily brushed it aside, stating that disruptions came with the job. Still, the rest of his team were likely waiting for him to wrap things up here. From the sounds of it, Deacon wanted her to be one of the field agents, which naturally aroused a bit of hesitance in her. Mentioning she wouldn't be a great addition for the fights, he assured her that the League wasn't entirely focused on the violence she'd seen on the television. Nodding to the part about the injured and the sick, some of her fears were temporarily quelled. Indubitably, they'd resurface the first time she found herself in a combative situation. "Those circumstances I can handle, but sadly my gifts don't lie within the realm of useful for kicking any tail."
With the interview nearing its end, Deacon invited her to the session he'd paused to meet her. Seconds after he had said they were in desperate need of the time working together, a sullen figure occupied the doorway and reiterated what the leader had just said. His sudden appearance had jostled her in her seat, but Bree recovered quickly, bright green eyes calculating what she could of the man. To be fair, she felt his gaze doing the same thing to her. Breaking the silence, she'd introduced herself and her role as the hopefully *stay in* nurse for the league. Their contact was brief, as though he were uncomfortable with human contact. It made her think of the word "recluse." Deacon introduced her with what he could, which honestly wasn't much... the enigmatic details about him only grew.
If his behavior was supposed to serve as a deterrent to most people, it had the opposite effect on her. This strange stoic man, parading about in a suit to mask his identity from even his coworkers quickly became a puzzle that she wanted to solve. Not necessarily what his name was, but why he was so standoffish. "Nice to meet you."
Deacon made a remark about the costume, which caused her to tilt her head, drinking in the details - from his scowl to the hardened tone of his voice. The longer he stood there, the stronger her initial impression got. That her old acquaintance didn't know his name only solidified her ideas. The leader invited the man to accompany them to the training session, and Bree cleared her throat. "I'll be there just in case someone breaks something so I can set it." Plus she wanted to meet the people she'd likely be fixing up in the future.
As they started out of the office, the recently melted man referred to his teammate as 'Wing,' and once again indicated he would like to know who the man behind the mask was, but Nightwing did not seem interested in ending the mystery. Before they got very far though, two people started approaching them. Once they were within conversational distance, one of the pair requested to speak to Mr. Richards - alone. Her jade-imbued gaze sidled from Deacon to Wing, to the strangers and then back to her old colleague, her question obvious. Did he want the masked man and her to head on down?
Adrenaline pushed through her veins, causing her limbs to feel more like jello than like the solid appendages they were. Something about this, their ominous appearance said things could go bad very quickly.
Swallowing once, she extended her hand out to the pair of them - trying for peace. "Hello. I'm sure it's good to meet you." Or... rather, she hoped it was.
 ✄ - - ϲ υ ɾ ɾ е ɳ ț ϲ ѻ ɱ ρ ɑ ɳ у ↺Deacon Richards, Nightwing, the Alexes ✄ - - ϲ υ ɾ ɾ е ɳ ț ɭ ѻ ϲ ɑ ț ɩ ѻ ɳ
↺Just outside of Deacon Richards' office
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Posted: Mon Feb 10, 2014 7:16 pm
Deacon Richards
Location: The Office/Training Center
Thoughts: Oh great, two more surprises… Bree channeled her mother when she reminded him of the words she spoke to him when she gave him her lecture on formalities. He chuckled to himself as he brought himself back to those weeks in Wales. God knows what that country looks like now. He just hoped it was spared the urban expanse. He’d cry if he saw that it went the fate of Neo-Gotham. That wasn’t Gotham to him, it wasn’t his city, not anymore. Gotham to him was gargoyles adorning slightly updated art-deco architecture in the Old Section, the faint smell of the ocean gently dancing along the senses, partnering with the vibrance of a city as grand as Gotham. Now that was all gone, replaced by gross skyscrapers and urban sprawl bordering on decay. Gone were the old lights and the asphalt streets that he called home, instead replaced by flying cars and god knows what else they decided to put out onto the city. “It’s a form of respect.” He reiterated, remembering what he said to her about formality. He was one to respect everyone around him. And Ms. Maddox was no exception in his eyes. After all, she intended to, and gave him a reprieve from the pain that wracked him.
She joked around with the idea of bunking with him, remarking that she now knew where he was, he stammered out quickly, “Well yeah, I’ll have someone arrange the room for you.” he collected himself a bit, adding on, “I think we can also set up a work area for you to practice in, and work in should we come in bruised and bloodied.”“I don’t expect you out in the fray taking on the big guys.” he replied regarding her place on the field, “I do however, need someone on the ground helping where they can. I’d like to say that people don’t get hurt in these scenarios, but the reality is simple: collateral damage is bound to happen. People will get hurt, disaster will occur. What I’d need from you is someone to help the injured, and perform triage if need be. Having at least one person on the ground with your background on the frontlines can potentially save more lives than we could.” he was exaggerating a bit perhaps, but he did need to make the point: having an experienced first responder beyond people with the ability to punch or shoot things was crucial. He came into this not just to fight crime, he wanted to save lives. He wanted to save as many as he could. As he made his way out of the office, he came across Nightwing being his usual self. Sullen and detached from the rest. He introduced her to the costumed vigilante. He noticed that his poking and prodding into his life, how uncomfortable it made him. He smirked at the vigilante. “Trust works both ways Nightwing. It’s something colleagues do, trust each other.” he stated simply, “Now let’s get down there and work on being a team.”The sight of two people, twins by his guess made their attempt to leave that more difficult. The female of the two requested that they speak in private. She even knew him by name. These two made him uncomfortable, like spotting two very dangerous animals circling their prey before their initial strike. Bree offered a hand for them, to which Deacon stated firmly, “Anything you have to say in front of me, you can do out here.” he was not about to be lured into some trap and taken down alone. Though having Nightwing around did have its benefits. Something happened, he’d likely do what he needed to protect Bree. OOC: Post is no bueno, my bad.
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 9:20 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 17, 2014 7:36 pm
 ________________________________________________________________________________________________Iron Mimic → Kitchen
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Posted: Wed Feb 19, 2014 12:53 pm
She could feel the tension rising. Like a serpent that slithered around each of them, coiling tightly. Adrenalin pulsed through her, she could feel the familiar crackle of the atmosphere buzzing around her but just out of her reach. She kept her expression neutral, her shoulders relaxed and arms down by her sides palms pressed to her thighs.
Out of the three who stood before her she kept very aware of the quietest. His body was shrouded in a cloak, head tipped forward and to the untrained eye it would have gone completely unnoticed however that wasn’t the case here. Beneath that cloak she was sure weapons were clutched in either hand and he was ready for an attack should one come his way. His reputation preceded him – Nightwing
Both of the men were known to her, however the woman was not. Her dark hair, warm skin and striking eyes were so similar to the features of the women she grew up with. For the short period of her childhood that was in the village – she was beautiful and she seemed frail but Reina had learned long ago that not everything was as it appeared.
The assessment of the two was done in a blink of an eye, but never once did her dark gaze waver from Deacon Richards. A few inches taller than her he was an attractive man with a lean athletic form that was appealing to the eye – nothing but muscle and sinew.
Reina had done her homework well. It would have been foolish to walk into the lion’s den with out doing so. This was the home, the head courters of some of the world’s most elite superhero’s. Names like Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman were whispered with respect, awe and fear here. Even the thought of them made her skin pucker with small little bumps and adrenaline to course through her veins. They had all been her enemies and now here she stood toe to toe with one of them with no ill will towards them. It had been drilled into her from a young age to hate them and to see their love and compassion for humanity as a weakness.
A hand was offered, but not the one she wanted nor the voice she wanted to hear. Instead of Deacon the girl’s smaller, dantier hand was held out to her. Reina’s gaze shifted upon the girl, her lips curved into a ghost of a smile as she nodded and took the girl’s hand. Giving it a gentle shake she spoke. “I hope that is will be.” Her accent a tell of her heritage was thick and warm as she spoke. Her attention was drawn back toward Deacon as he spoke. She couldn’t help but grin at his caution.
“Smart man.” She murmured, her eyes twinkled with a playful glint. “Mister Deacon, we can stand were ever you wish however the topic that we must speak with you on is one that is of a…” She paused searching for the right word, brow cinching together in thought and her lashes fell against her cheeks. “Sensative.” Her lashes lifted once more, her gaze clashing with his. “Nature. Matters that deal with Ra's al Ghul. You have heard of him no?” She paused waiting for those words that have struck fear in the hearts of many to be observed, comprehended and understood before she continued.
“Now, might we have a private moment?” Her temper spiked as she spoke the last words, never in her life did she feel so helpless and the idea of begging was revolting and made her feel as lowly as a dog begging for table scraps. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, and felt the tension that was beginning to form a knot at the back of her neck ease ever so slightly and she knew that Dumika was working his magic.
ooc// ...
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Posted: Wed Feb 19, 2014 1:01 pm
Dru remained perfectly still a foot or so behind his twin and slightly off to her left. Never had he thought he would be here of all places and it didn’t look like it was going to be getting better. Especially not with the trio before him. Though the woman of the group seemed suspicious she did not tense – not in the manner the costumed fellow did. Even with the cape shrouding the majority of his body from view and to the untrained eye it would have gone un-noticed. Probably a weapon in either hand – or both – and his own itched to clutch the smooth, sleek handle of just one of his swords that were strapped to his back. He felt naked without their weight in his hand.
What had he let Shaska talk him into now…
The two men seemed to assess them silently while the girl looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but there. The muscles in her throat worked as she swallowed – a nervous tick? Or perhaps it was a gesture used to gain courage? Both he soon realized as she held out her hand toward them and broke the deafening silence with honeyed timbre. He gave a slight nod to her, nothing less and nothing more. She was lucky that he even gave her that. It wasn’t in his nature to be considerate of social cues and norms.
He was a trained assassin – he could come up with a million ways to kill her. One way bloody. Another painless. He could use pressure points to render her completely paralyzed if struck properly. He wasn’t a man created for fineries– he was a weapon. It would probably be best for Shska to handle such pleasantries.
With ease he could never understand his sister reached forward taking the hand that was offered to her and spoke kindly to the girl. But his attention was quickly stolen by Deacon – the man they had come here to see in the first place as he spoke. The muscle in his jaw ticked as his teeth clenched together.
Damn – couldn’t this have just gone the way it was meant to? Without a word or much of a thought he allowed the pheromone’s to slowly secret from his pores. To mingle with the air that they breathed in meant to sooth, and calm them. It was nothing more than the most delicate of scents. Not even detectable by the human nose but it was there and he hoped that it would take effect. It was easy to calm his sister but three people he had just met – he wasn’t certain he would be able to take enough of the edge off to make this go smoothly especially when his sister hinted at their reasoning for being here. Even from where he stood he could tell she was straining to keep control and keep the bitterness from her voice as she spoke of their surrogate father.
More pheromones left him, completely saturating the air around Alexandriena with their calming affects. He was only thankful there were no opened windows. He could only image what his sister would do this time, especially if Deacon Richards refused her request for a second time. The thought of her electrocuting him quirked the corner of his mouth for the faintest of moments before he cleared his throat his features once more returning to stone.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2014 8:08 pm
I am god, and so the Antichrist. I'm blessed, yet damned.
I'm fallen, yet resurrected. I'm all of nothing!  Ðąɧʄȉą
Location: Lounge / Training Area
Outfit: [The Demoness]
Weapons: [Longsword][Shield]  ”Humans speak too much,” she said simply when Gabe suggested that it did not hurt to have a conversation now and again. The expression confused the demoness. How could words hurt? He must have been speaking about magic, of course, when sorcerers used their words to create physical effects. That was the only conceivable way that holding conversations could possibly hurt. ”I was under the impression your people screamed more. But then those may have been different circumstances.” Before her time on Earth, her only experience with humans was hearing them scream in agony. Something in her had assumed that was simply how humans communicated. The man continued on to explain that in this world one that killed and kept trophies were captured or killed. ”I would like to see them try,” she said to the man with a challenging glare. Whatever threatened her would die. It was really that simple. They would never know how to deal with a warrior such as she. ”Fun? I do not understand.”
She explained the way her dimension looked to the boy, going into great detail about its rings and the methods in which her damned were punished for all eternity. He seemed to be impressed by her descriptions and remarked that at least he would recognize something apart from her once he arrived in that dimension. Strange; was the child looking forward to eternal torment and damnation? She would have thought most humans would prefer to stay away from such a place. But then, she knew no other way of living. ”You will only be there if you die leading a particularly violent life. And I guarantee that you would not recognize me in Hell. My true form is not quite so frail as this pathetic flesh. While I am beautiful, your eyes may not be able to comprehend what you witness. And were I to see you in Hell, I would most certainly not 'give you a tour'. I would perform my function, and that is to oversee your everlasting torment at the hands of my minions until my demise.” She explained how her language did not seem to be compatible with human speech organs, and that to even attempt her language was futile unless her human host suddenly developed more of her demonic features; perhaps with time it would. ”Perhaps,” she said dismissively.
When Dahlia asked if Atlantis too was in a plane separate from that which they currently presided in, the spirited young woman explained that it was not, and that it was at the bottom of the ocean. This confused the emoness. Could humans live underwater in this world? Or was she somehow different from the others? She looked exactly the same as everyone else did here; plain, delicate, and utterly unthreatening, like the demoness herself looked in this mortal shell. She did not bother asking the girl about her home though. Instead, she remained quiet as the other conversed, mostly eyeing them with that same nigh-unblinking stare she always gave others in her infinite curiosity. She'd mentioned the way she'd slain the giant Goliath and hung his head as a trophy, and the one in this room called Goliath claimed he hoped it was not some sort of prejudice based on his name. ”I care nothing of your name. I slew him because he dared challenge my power in his infinite stupidity. Do not do the same and you are safe.” Her eyes narrowed on the man for a moment before turning her attention toward the group of people discussing the subject of palm-reading and divination.
Her brow cocked upward when the divinator woman explained to her that her form of the sight gave her the ability to save lives. Not for the first time this day she was utterly confused. ”Saves lives?” she repeated flatly. ”Is there some importance to this, saving lives? I don't understand.” Why would anyone wish to willingly save lives? Why waste energy on weak creatures that would die without you? They are, by definition, too weak to live, and they should be allowed to die as was their birthright. If one could not fight whatever challenge they were meant to face, then they were simply too weak to be allowed to live. Why would Dahlia save these creatures if they could not save themselves? The demoness merely stared on as Gabe took Isis's challenge and did as she asked. The woman took his hand and began speaking facts about the boy's life that went clear over the demon's head, though she did understand what a shapeshifter went; she had a little of such capability as well, but she could not change her entire body's appearance. Just thinking about it made her unconsciously change her hair color from auburn to a coal black. In her realm it was a much grander power, but her human body limited her potential here. Gabe then offered herself, as well as the so-called Atlantean, to leave to 'the mall' as he referred to it. Would these people ever speak in words she could understand?
It would not be long before they were once interrupted by a voice on one of the strange machines they'd affixed to her wrist. She pressed her ear to it. It was apparently their leader, though she used the term as loosely as possible; she'd failed to see him do any actual leading so far. She had yet to see any attitude or action that would make him worthy of the title of leader. He'd asked them to “suit up”, and she'd learned that this meant they wanted her to be in costume, and then to report to the training area. She knew the training area well, as she'd spent much of her time there with its machines when those that brought her into the fold tested its ability. Without word she simply blinked out of existence, then reappeared inside the living arrangement they'd given her. There was a bed, but it was far too soft for her, so she'd yet to sleep in it; so far all this time she'd slept on the floor when her body became fatigued. She set down her shield and the sheathed sword it held so that she could change out of the clothes she wore an into the costume that had been given to her by the one named Barda. She liked Barda; she was a powerful warrior that commanded respect. Clothes were one of the many things she could not grow accustomed to in this world; why did the humans insist in covering themselves in so many fabrics? We could they not simply walk around in the bodies they had been given? She understood wearing the flesh or the limbs of one she'd slain as a trophy, but to simply cover oneself? There was so much she doubted she would ever understand.
She quickly changed herself into her costume, leaving the boots for last. She looked in the mirror and finally noticed the dark hue her hair had taken. She shrugged as she once again grabbed her shield and sword and blinked out of existence, reappearing inside the training area in wisp of black smoke that soon faded into the air. She took a moment to look at her surroundings. She apparently teleported right next to the one called Isis. She looked at the woman with a vacant stare for a few moments before turning to a newcomer she'd never seen before. ”This one is a human I have not seen before,” she said aloud, mostly to herself. ”Will there be more new faces? There are only so many I would care to remember. Things were so much simpler when the only fleshy things I dealt with were in constant agony.”
I play death, you play life, triple sixes to rise...
Can you see the visions I brought you,
And the devilish games that I taught you?
I am all that you see,
I am all that you want me to be!
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Sing This Corrosion To Me
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Posted: Mon Feb 24, 2014 8:21 pm
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Hazel eyes rolled upwards when Mason said “for once.” “
