Zephyr

[COLOR="DarkRed"]The night-darkened silhouettes of cars blurred past as the motorcycle weaved through traffic at lightning speeds. At the controls was Andrej, grinning like a madman and ready to let out a howl of excitement that even his helmet would be unlikely to contain. At this point he wasn't even sure where he was anymore, as he had decided to just take off in a direction and see where he wound up. It was just the way he liked it. Wild, random, unexpected, and just barely within his control. A few days back he had actually had a plan. He was going to base jump off of a large cliff in an area now completely distant from his current location. Rumor had it that the spot was one of the best, and worst, to jump from. A real thrill ride. Just one problem with that thought. It seemed that everyone else had gotten the memo as well. By the time Andrej got there numerous others had arrived and were jumping as well. Too many to make it any fun. Why bother with the jump if it was so easy that anyone could do it? Andrej's thoughts on the subject found themselves abruptly halted by a familiar red-blue light show in his mirrors. [i]Finally, something interesting.[/i] Backing off on the throttle just a hair allowed the police car to make it's way closer to Andrej's bike. When it was just a few car lengths back he kicked the throttle up, and the sporty little crotch-rocket launched itself forward. Even on a normal motorcycle this would have been fun, but Andrej had made a few improvements. Lately he seemed to have a sub-conscious drive to amp up his normal toys in ways he did not even know he knew how to change. The chase persisted for a good half an hour, with Andrej toying with the officer through a cat and mouse game. After a few more units joined the fun he figured it would be best to make himself invisible for a bit, and worked his way off the highway and back into town. He had no idea where he was, but he did know one thing: it was time for a beer. Stopping off at the first dive bar he could find Andrej approached the bartender, pausing a moment as a news report on TV caught his ear. "... were attacked by a rabid dog in the park this afternoon. The dog was put down by police at the scene, and the young girl was rushed to hospital. Tragically, the animal control offic....." "Wild dog attacks? Sounds like a rough town." Andrej half-laughed and muttered something to himself in his native tongue before turning back to the bar. "Give me a glass of the worst tasting shit you've to on tab, ja?"[/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkRed"]Let us hope that lovely Baal sense of smell stays strong. I want the last thing they all smell to be scent of grease and exhaust fumes as one of my "toys" decides to hello. Maybe I'll install a grill on it, and see if clan Baal really does taste like chicken. As for you, oh mighty masters of the sky, clan Chronos. Keep your lofty perch while you can. Who needs wings to pluck you from it anyway? They say "The sky's the limit." Too bad for you that limit is still too close. Bang![/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkRed"]tsk, tsk, tsk. Poor, misguided Sins. However there is nothing to worry about, when the Reshef win out in the end we will still show mercy and keep you alive. :devil: Test subjects will always be needed, after all. Heh heh, nothing like a pre-fight warm-up by running one's mouth, eh? Looking forward to when this one starts. I already have a few ideas that I can't wait to try out.[/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkRed"] [I]“Andrej Radko Marek, born October 5th, 1980 in Czechoslovakia, your hometown now part of the Czech Republic. Immigrated to Germany with family at the age of seven, where your parents took up legitimate jobs and you took up being a maniac and a public menace.” The police officer standing over Andrej slammed the file he was holding down on the unsteady metal desk, the rattling of the parts reverberated off the cinderblock walls of the room. “You’ve made a name for yourself as a daredevil, a stuntman, and the unofficial icon of numerous rebellious teens who think that yelling ‘fuck you’ to the cops and society is a game.” “Your disregard for the safety of others, through what I can only guess is a personal death wish, has created havoc in the streets. And the things we can only guess are your doing are worse still. Ignorant and impressionable teens have been injured from copying your stunts with homemade equipment meant to mimic yours. Just last week a student broke his leg jumping from a roof with a pale imitation of some parachute/suit rig you blatantly displayed in an illegal base jump a few countries away.” The officer finally sat down, if only to glare at Andrej from across the table. “For the life of me I don’t know why you are not behind bars for reckless endangerment of everyone on the roads around you, or why you haven’t splattered yourself on the pavement from the street racing or the base jumping. Know this though, if not for the fact that you were picked up for missing a payment on a speeding ticket I would make sure you were locked up.” Standing up the now clearly irate man walked to door and opened, gesturing for Andrej to leave. “Pay the clerk on the way out.” Andrej simply smiled and nodded, “Good day, officer,” on his way out. [/I] Okay, that was just a short intro, so here is the meat & potatoes of the character: [B] Name[/B]: Andrej Rako Marek [B]Age[/B]: 28 [B]Nationality (of birth)[/B]: Czechoslovakian [B]Nationality (residence)[/B]: Northern Germany [B]Personality[/B]: Andrej is wild-man, the kind that prefers to drive faster, jump farther, and land harder than anyone else. He only ever seems to follow the rules that he thinks have meaning or won’t restrict him from his fun. Rarely bothering to think ahead he will run straight into anything he finds interesting and dangerous, though he shows an innate talent in being cautious and in control of such situations. His love of tinkering with machines and building his own “toys” has brought him a lot of attention as well. [B]Appearance[/B]: [URL="http://media.photobucket.com/image/cyberpunk/finalefanatic/Cyberpunk_Mercenary_by_Rive6.jpg?o=180"]Andrej[/URL] (subtract the guns, not his style) [B]Clan and Abilities[/B]: Andrej’s blood hails from the clan Reshef. He is currently coming into the realization that he can deconstruct any mechanical or electrical system and rebuild it into something new with a mere thought. Mass and component materials stay the same, so he cannot turn a flashlight into a lightsaber, but he can take household lightbulbs and turn the filaments into a heat-bearing garrote (for instance). In time his talents with develop further in a way that will allow him to selectively merge with machines or other man-made tools. Effectively grafting these parts to his own skin or organs, while able to be removed at will. Just imagine turning a few steak knife blades into a decent recreation of Wolverine’s blades, or fusing a pair of night-vision goggles right into your eyes. [B]---"Deus Ex Machina? A god from the machine? Ha! I am to the machine what God is to the pious."---[/B][/COLOR] OOC: Please let me know if you have any issues with sign-up itself, and I will do my best to correct them.

OOC: Okay, it was not my intent to miss out on this for a whole week. Sorry about that. Been a bit wild around here lately. [COLOR="DarkRed"]In a corner of the small dining area in which both the werewolves and vampires had gather sat the smallest member of the the group. Phelan was leaning up against the wall, notebook in one hand and a pen in the other, observing the group and noting down any manner of information. On occasion he would break for just long enough to grab something to eat from the plate piled high with food that was sitting next to him. [I]Auron, claims to be the Alpha of the vampires, however Terral is the one leading this whole group right now. Interesting social structure, note to look into it later. Tense mood in the area, expected from this kind of union, though our Alpha seems to be adjusting to working with Auron rather well. Good? Bad? To be seen. Talos was causing trouble again, no big shock there. Wish he'd get his act together and take something serious for once. Kurai was late, odd for her. Still got here in time to see the "pet" that Terral keeps. Seems to be adapting to the group as well, currently out "playing" with a vampire, think I heard the name Zen.[/I] Noticing the lack of food on his plate at this stage Phelan closed the notebook and stood up to grab more, stopping for a moment to notice for the first time that the ground seemed cold against his bare feet. Before he had the chance to obtain more food, however, the door to the room burst open and Terral appeared, complaining about the missing members of the group before disappearing out of the door again. Phelan just sighed to himself and started making his way back to the food.[/COLOR] OOC: The italics are for the writings in the notebook. Just think random notes scribbled around the page.

OOC: Knuckle's girl, I was not sure how you were planning on running the werewolf forms, so I assumed being able to change forms (human to werewolf, maybe by choice) when I wrote this. Please let me know if you want that changed. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Name: Phelan (Werewolf, saw nowhere to put this) Age: 89 Birth age (Age you were turned): 13 Appearance: (Human Form) Having been turned at a young age Phelan has maintained the natural height and appearance of a 13 year-old child. A deep look into his emerald-green eyes will show a much older view of the world however. His jet-black hair is cut short, and years of training has left him with a decent muscular build. A simple combination of blue jeans and a plain red T-Shirt are all he ever seems to need, forgoing even shoes most of the time. (Werewolf form) Phelan?s size doubles, making him smaller than a normal werewolf, and his fur maintains the same black color as his human form?s hair. His eyes seem to reflect or emit a yellowish glow. Gender: Male Weapon (if any): Phelan really prefers to uses his natural strengths and weapons for combat, as his small stature affords good maneuverability. On occasion he uses a special pair of elbow length gloves, which tie tightly to his arms (to prevent slipping), and are covered in small, razor-sharp blades around the forearm areas. Personality: Being raised early on to hate vampires Phelan has a natural distain for them, however decades of experience has softened his distain to a degree. Thanks to this he has been able to set aside his differences, for the most part, to face a greater threat. Overall Phelan is quiet, picking an observer method, and allowing his perceived ?elders? (read: adults, in there minds) take the lead if they so wish. If things look dire he will likely step forward, and hope that people listen to a ?child?. [/COLOR]

The sound of footfalls was the only thing that broke the silence of the hallway as Engel walked quietly away from the cell he had previously occupied. His back still ached from the earlier experiment, and now his empty stomach was beginning to follow suit. Deciding that at least one of the problems could be solved he now made his way towards the building cafeteria. Echoes of conversations floated down the hallway as Engel got closer, and a few heads turned for a moment at his arrival before going back to eating or talking. Grabbing a few small things to eat he sat down at an empty table and started to think. By now the rest of the group was long gone, hopefully successfully achieving their task, and that left him wondering what was going to happen as a result of being left out of this one. OOC: Sorry for the long disappearance, but the last month has been hectic and not playing nicely. Nessaja, this post is a bit short, but hopefully serves it's purpose of showing that I am not out of the RPG yet.

Muuh Puar, in the sign-up's Writing Snippet I posted I hinged a few things on the underlying behaviors of elementals based on their element. Hopefully this doesn't contradict anything you had in mind (if so let me know and I can work something else out), they are just the way I have alway seen elemental represented. Their underlying behavior is tied to the "meanings" of their element. Usually this is how I have seen it broken down: Air/Wind: Free-spirits, emotionally lofty and playful Earth: Spirits of stability, emotionally calm and thoughtful Fire: Anarchic spirits, emotionally high-strung and wild Water: Adaptive spirits, emotionally changing (mixes of various emotions) Those are just basics descriptions. Generally if you can think of what each of the elements tends to represent and put an emotion/behavior behind it that is how I've seen elementals represented.

OOC: Ah, a chance to dig one of my old characters out of storage (just wish I remembered the original name). Let me know if there are any issues with the sign-up. [B]Name[/B]: Isha (pronounced: EE-Sha) Bladescale [B]Age and Gender[/B]: 68, Male [B]Race & Class[/B]: Beast-Man (Serpent), assassin/untouchable (lowest of the low caste, not trusted by the higher castes and deemed only barely above the level of livestock) [B]Alignment[/B]: Self-aligned. Fights for whatever he decides to believe in. [B] Company[/B]: Normally travels in groups out of necessity, however he has recently found himself in the company of a very young Sylph (air elemental) whom he calls by the name Aria (as she seems to speak only in melodic song tones). Aria has the appearance of a human girl, around 5-7 years of age, pale skin and white hair with ice blue eyes. She wears a simple white dress and a pair of red dress-shoes. Aria carries no weapons, though she may have a few natural techniques that are better than weapons. [B]Appearance[/B]: Isha stands at a height of 5’ 7” and has the look of a man in his mid-twenties (slower aging). For his size his arms and legs seem disproportionately long and thin, and his fingers are about half-again as long as a normal human’s fingers. The skin on Isha’s back between his neck, arms and legs, and stretching around the front of torso, and down to the back of his hands and top of his feet, is formed of blood-red scales similar to those of a snake. Portions of his forehead and face have the same scales, though they are a bit more blended with the skin. Both of his eyes are a vibrant yellow color and have the iconic “snake-eye slit” to them. Usually hidden behind a closed mouth are elongated canines (teeth that is) and a disturbingly long and agile tongue (no jokes). No hair grows on his head, which is instead covered with the same scales as most of his face. Isha’s normal attire tends to be a simple red hooded cloak and dark-brown cotton shirt/pants combination. [B]Personality[/B]: Very quiet and watchful. Isha doesn’t tend to speak often, and can more often than not be seen watching the behaviors of others from a distance. When he does speak it is generally a toss-up between a meaningful input, or a slightly twisted remark or action which finds itself based in an urge to watch people cringe (out of a sadistic sense of humor). Despite having many of the qualities of a loner, primarily out of self-preservation, Isha seems to be protective of Aria and has been known to be aggressive to anyone that threatens her in any way. By the same token, anyone that Aria shows a liking to can find an ally in Isha. [B]Weapons/Magic[/B]: Isha’s only weapons are his natural abilities. Extremely dexterous joints, slightly enhanced senses, and venom glands tied to the elongated canines in his mouth. To increase his natural abilities Isha has trained in a few varieties of martial arts, both offensive and defensive in form. To aid his abilities without using weapons Isha has trained in a few incantations. The first increases his speed and strength, the second gives his skin mimetic properties, and the third allows him to reshape the scales on his body into blades no longer than six inches in length. [B]Writing Sample[/B]: Laughter mixed with a light melodic sound echoed through the small clearing in the forest. Isha sat at the edge of the clearing against a tree and stared out at the center of a small pond which had formed in the clearing some time ago. His attention was focused less on the pod itself than on the young girl in white dancing across the surface of the water. The girl’s pure white hair and dress twirled through the air as she spun on the tip of her toes with an unnatural grace that even a ballerina could never hope to mimic. Isha smiles slightly as the beauty of her laughter/singing, but his mood was cut short by a feeling that something was not right. Standing up he called across the pond. “Aria, it’s time to go.” He spoke in a calm voice, trying not to sound like he knew something was wrong. Hearing his words the young Sylph stopped mid-dance and stood on the water for a second looking disappointed, only to smile the next instant and start skipping in Isha’s direction. She was almost to the water’s edge when she stopped, pointed past Isha, and let out a discordant screech of alarm. Isha spun around and found himself face to face with two earth elementals, one appearing male and one female. Both had taken on a look like that of the trees around them. Their skin was make of bark that seemed to flow like silk, their hair a cascade of leaves down their backs, and “clothing” made of jade green moss. Both looked at Isha with eyes that seemed to glow with the embers of a small forest fire, an oddity amongst elemental of this nature that showed their age and power. After a moment the female elemental spoke up. “Return the Sylph to her own kind, Child of the Beasts.” Her tone was commanding, but not aggressively so. “We have not qualms with you, however you are not the right kind to be teaching her. She needs to learn from her own kin.” Having spent much time in the wilderness that was his home Isha knew a few basics about elementals. One of the biggest being their natural affinity for the essence or meanings of their element, especially among the elders. In the case of earth elementals this meant a strong tie to feelings of stability and natural order. They had less intention of taking Aria away because she was with a Beast-man than doing so because it was more natural to have her with her own kind. Perhaps this knowledge is what kept him from feeling threatened by the pair. As he spoke he looked the female elemental in the eyes, trying to push back the overwhelming feeling to look away from one with such a high stature. “With all do respect, Elder, Aria has chosen to follow me of her own volition. I have neither forced her nor have I coerced her into staying with me. From the very start it was her choice to remain at my side.” It was getting hard to remain still and looking at the elemental as he spoke. She never moved or did anything to seem pressuring, however her mere presence was commanding. “I understand that your kind has a preference for the natural order, which in this case means Aria learning from her own kind, however Sylphs are free spirits, able to decide their fate almost from the moment they are born…” Isha paused for a moment, “…from what I understand of them, that is, Elder. If that is truly the case, then is it not her decision on whether or not to return with you?” There was a long pause from the female elemental as she turned to look at her companion. Neither of them uttered a word, but it was likely they were talking to each other regardless. During that time Aria approached Isha and stood next to him, clutching his sleeve lightly. After several minutes the elemental turned back and looked at Isha, then looked down at Aria. She held her hand out to Aria in a clear ‘follow me’ gesture, and Aria merely clutched tightly onto Isha’s sleeve. The elemental lower her arm and looked Isha in the eyes. “You understand a bit more about elementals than I would give you credit for, Child of the Beasts, and you are right that she has the option to decide. This trial is over. Aria, as you have taken to calling her, may stay with you. Know that your actions with her will be watched so long as you are in our forest.” With that both earth elementals turned and walked deeper into the forest, out of Isha’s sight.

I was hoping to get a reply post from Lunar, though it seems she may have dropped. I'll ask her, and if that's the case I'll think on a post that gets things rolling again. With luck things will pick back up.

[COLOR="DarkRed"]I have no issues with having my character brought along, though in the post I have had it suggested that he not do so (mostly because of current condition). As of yet I am not sure where it will go, but I think after Lunar posts it may help with direction, since she is one half of the scene going on there.[/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkRed"]Engel looked to other side of the cell where his dark-skinned cell mate lay, restless trying to move. A look of sadness, cut occasionally by a twitch from the pain in his back, crossed his face at the look of her plight. Where he had been shackled down by force she had been effectively shackled down by the serum they had given her. Engel opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the sound of the cell's door opening. From outside two men in white uniforms, wearing white masks and carrying leather bags, stepped in and split off to either side of the cell. Both of the proceeded to start taking medical measurements of Engel and the young girl. Heart rate, blood pressure, and a list of other tests. At the same time they asked a barrage of questions regarding how either of them felt, what pain where they experiencing, so on and so forth for what seemed like hours. When all was said and done both turned toward Engel and the one who had been taking his measurements spoke to him. "We've been ordered to release your bindings, but due to your behavior earlier we wont take any chances. I'm going to be holding your head and body down to keep you from getting out of control. Do you understand?" Engel managed a quiet "Yes", his voice sounding ragged. As he said that the man placed one hand on his head, holding it firmly to the pillow, and one knee against his lower back, pinning him down while the other one removed the bindings on his wrists. Once he was done the first man stepped down and helped Engel into a sitting position while the other one left the cell momentarily to retrieve a pair of water buckets which he set next to each bed. "There have been orders for the Geist-Jugend to move out on a mission," the man spoke loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the cell. "However due to your current state you are not required to leave, and as a medical professional I would advise you not to. The same goes for both of you." With that he stood up and tossed a pair of cloths on Engel's bed. "Take some time to wash up and decide," he said as he took his leave. Looking down at his reflection in the water's surface for a moment Engel thought about what was just mentioned. After a moment or two of contemplation his attention turned to the blood still staining his hands and arms. The blood was his own, he knew that, but he still felt like it was tainted with the blood of others, and his reflection seemed to mock him for it. Those thoughts were broken as he dunked his hands into the bucket, and washed the blood and the memories away. As his mind cleared he remembered the girl on the other side of the cell and looked up at her. She was still working to get up, and having little luck with it. Standing up, despite the arching pain his back, Engel made his way over and wordlessly placed an arm behind her shoulders to help her up. [/COLOR] OOC: Lunar, I'll leave it open here just so that I am not forcing your character's next action.

[COLOR="DarkRed"]A scream of fear echoed through the small confines of the cell and was followed shortly thereafter by heavy rapid breaths. Engel looked around the room, trying to get his bearings, as the effects of the nightmare wore off. As the fear faded from his mind he tried to reach over to wipe the sweat from his brow, only to find that his hand would not move. Once more he was gripped by fear as he noticed his wrists were bound, holding him securely face-down on the bed. "Please remain calm," a voice from overhead crackled through the room's speaker. "We had to restrain you so that you did not harm yourself." Engel was confused for a moment by that last part. How could have hurt himself? The nightmares were bad, but never that bad. As these thoughts, and many others, flooded his mind a sharp pain in his arms became apparent to him. Looking over as best he could Engel noticed the shredded remains of his shirt, still hanging partially off of his shoulders and back, and the dried blood around the cuts on his upper arms. Cuts that looked like they were made by finger's scraped against flesh. A quick glance at his blood-caked fingertips confirmed this. "It seems the serum was not effective, and had strong side-effects." The voice was cold, monotone. "Increased nightmares, pain in the upper and mid back, both leading to a strong instinct to fight back. If not for the restraints you may have hurt yourself or your roommate." At the mention of that last part Engel's head popped up and scanned the room. Across from him, lying on a bed was the form of a young, dark-skinned girl. Trying to get a closer look, worried that he may have caused her harm at some point, he propped himself up on his elbows, and immediately fell forward with a yelp. His back felt like it was on fire, and the skin was ripping itself apart. As he collapsed back onto the pillow a memory clicked into place. The 'serum' mentioned was supposed to help his with his memory loss, in theory. It was still experimental, and no one knew if it would work. It seems that it had not helped. In fact the opposite, his back started to burn and ache, his nightmares became stronger and even started to plague his mind while awake. His mouth tasted of copper as he recalled biting into one of the nurses trying to bind his wrists. The pit in his stomach seemed to expand at these realizations, and he slumped back down onto the bed, waiting until they decided he could be let go.[/COLOR]

I take the info on Wiki with a grain of salt, but it's a good place to get a broad range of connecting information on a topic, which you can research properly from another site. Just thought I would provide a stepping stone for anyone who wanted it.

[COLOR="DarkRed"]Here is a link to a rather long (and somewhat incomplete) list of World War II era weapons: [URL="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_World_War_II_weapons"]http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_World_War_II_weapons[/URL] It's a good starting point if anyone wants reference to what might be found along the way, or even picked up to begin with. Also helpful for better descriptions of enemy weapons that we might be faced against.[/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkRed"][B]Name[/B]: “Engel” (German for Angel) [B]Code number[/B]: VSB 387-206 [B]Age[/B]: 16 [B]Weapons[/B]: Sauer 38H (pistol) and a hunting knife [B] Appearance[/B]: Black hair pulled into a ponytail and reaching just past his upper shoulders, emerald-green eyes. He looks rather pale and sickly, as though suffering from illness and exhaustion. As a result his build is very thin. Under normal circumstances he tends to wear jeans, a T-shirt and a brown leather jacket. On each shoulder blade he has two tattoos resembling an angel’s wings (for a total of four wings). [B]Personality[/B]: Somewhat shy, but a loyal friend and companion to anyone who can get past that. His appearance causes many to view him as fragile and with pity which he distains but will play to his advantage if he feels it is needed. History: Engel does not know anything about his past prior to a few years ago. All he can recall is waking up in a field, surrounded by members of the Geist-Jugend who seemed intent on “bringing him back”. Despite long sessions and tests, even including hypnosis, he never managed to regain his memory. Even his name was lost to the ether and he picked up the name “Engel” upon hearing some of the medical staff call him that as a nickname. Since the day that he woke up in that field Engel has suffered from nightmares, which high-ranking doctors in the staff say may be parts of his memory trying to return. For now he just lives day to day, wondering if he should even regain his memories if they are indeed the cause of the nightmares.[/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkRed"]Ivan was quiet during the flight to the drop zone, but then again he usually was right before an operation. Or that is what everyone thought seeing as he had shut off the external communications in his suit, and left the visor down. Inside the helmet his voice, barely audible, seemed to echo in his ears as he stares at a picture of a blonde-haired girl of not more than seven years displayed in his HUD. "I'm off to another fight, Tessa. Wish me luck." He pauses, as if waiting for a reply from the picture. "I know you hate having me fight, but it must be done. If I don't do something then I risk losing you, and... His words were suddenly cut-off by the commotion in the helicopter's bay. Catching fragments of the panicked words he reverts back to instinct an follows the rest of the group out the door. "T.E.S.S.A., activate stealth systems and prepare a does of stimulants in case the fall knocks me out." This time around Ivan spoke directly to his suit's A.I. system. As the stealth system activated the suit seemed to shimmer and fade away like a ghost descending from the sky. The impact was jarring, and Ivan nearly blacked out for a moment as he rolled across the landscape. After a moment to clear his head he looked around to get his bearing. "T.E.S.S.A., give me GPS location for the squadron with my location as center." At his command a map displayed itself online Everyone save for Boris showed up listed on the map. [I]Great, the last thing this group needs is a missing commander[/I]. "Open a comm to the rest of the unit." A slight chirp signaled the open comm link. "All units, regroup at the following coordinates," Ivan sent out a visual map location to everyone, "and provide situation reports." As he spoke Ivan rushed towards the wreckage of the down helicopter. At the same time he noticed his worst fear coming true as Axela jumped head-long into the mass of drones. Making not only herself, but any nearby squad members the focus of attention. Ivan shut down the comm link to avoid being heard swearing at the top of his lungs at the childish behavior, and continued to move towards the wreckage looking for Boris. [/COLOR]

[B]Name[/B]: Ivan ?Wraith? Stone [B]Age[/B]: 37 [B]Appearance[/B]: Ivan stands at 5?7? and has a pale, ragged look. His hair is raven black and his light blue eyes seem empty most of the time. Physically he has a decent muscle tone, but still appears dangerously thin. Often unkempt and unshaven [B]Personality[/B]: Shell-shocked, a drunkard, ?temper issues?. All of these tags have been applied to Ivan. The war has gotten to him, he drinks heavily and fights with others. If not for his calm head and skill in field he likely would have been kicked out of the project long ago. [B]Suit Color[/B]: Primarily black. The face of the unit is painted white and resembles a skull with empty eyes. The only other break in coloring is a handful of red broken gear emblems on the left breast of the suit (Ivan?s kill count). [B]Suit Power[/B]: Total stealth. Ivan?s suit is able to camouflage itself completely from visual and electronic systems. Visual, auditory, infrared, ultraviolet, all such direct systems are useless, although long-range tectonic sensors can pick up his footfalls. In addition to that the suit is agile, removing many of the restrictions in movement that others of its kind have. [B]Suit Primary Weapon[/B]: A vibrokatana mounted in a sheath across the suit?s back. [B] Suit Secondary Weapon[/B]: Hard points for mounting several grenades and packets of explosives. Also a pair of vibrodaggers attached to the suit?s thighs. [B]Bio[/B]: A calm heartbeat, slow breathing, and the insistent digital ticking of the countdown clock were the only sounds greeting Ivan?s ears inside the confines of his suit. Outside of the suit it was a warzone. Shells explodes and shook the ground, flashes of gunfire danced through the air, and the Skynet army marched past his position as if he was nothing more than a ghost. [I]Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick.[/I] Ivan wanted to smash that timer right now. Others may have said the war drove him half mad, but he?d be damned if he was going to let such a meaningless machine finish the job. His hands began to sweat inside the suit?s gloves. It was always slightly unnerving to watch others pass you by in a battle as though you never existed, but that was his role. Recon, sabotage, and commander killer, all required the use of stealth. If they did not see him then he had already won. [I]Tick, Tick, Tick, Beeeeeeeeeee?..[/I] The sound of the alarm jolted Ivan out of the dream once more, and he slammed his hand down on the clock and growled. It was the same thing, every morning. Ivan growled again and hoisted himself out of bed.[I] I need a drink[/I], he thought while glancing at his ?to do? list of the day, [I]and looks like I?m going to be late for the meeting? again.[/I] Tossing on a pair of ragged jeans and a T-shirt he headed out of his room and towards the conference hall.

[COLOR="DarkRed"]Kieran watched the exchange between Alucian and Ony from the back of the group. Once the arguments seemed to subside he smiled and spoke quietly. "You really have a way with children don't you, Alucian?" "She needs to learn. It's as simple as that." Alucian never stopped walking and never looked back as he spoke. "There is nothing wrong with the child wanting her meals prepackaged. And before you argue consider that ours were being packed for us before the attack. Not much of a 'hunt', now is it?" Alucian stopped now and stared daggers at Kieran. He looked ready to strike Kieran down right there, but Kieran ignored him and kept on walking. "Besides, if the cattle wish to milk themselves there is little reason to let it go to waste in a fridge." "Why defend her self-denying beliefs when you yourself hunt your prey and have sired one whom you let toy with a meal? It's hypocritical." Venom dripped from Alucian's every word. "Why, you ask?" Kieran stopped and stared at Alucian, arms crossed behind his back, and with eyes devoid of emotion. "Not all of us share the antiquated belief that a meal must be hunted down and slaughtered in a boorish manner. That's the kind of behavior I would expect of the humans." Kieran did not even blink as he spoke those words. A dangerous gambit. "As for the one I have sired, my reasons for turning her are my own."[/COLOR]

"It's always such a shame to see children fighting like this." The somewhat hollow voice echoed through the quiet streets a second before two figures appeared from the shadows. Kieran and the much younger vampire he had sired, Melissa, stood watching the scene between Ony and Sabien. "One would imagine that by now they would have been taught some manners. Instead of behaving like squabbling toddlers." If he received any looks from the two younger vampires then Kieran never showed a reaction to it. On the other hand, Melissa smirked at the comments. Ony's gaze fell upon her at the point, and Melissa only reacted by by sticking out her tongue, revealing a bright silver piercing, and waving it in a lewd manner. "That's enough, Raven," Kieran spoke without looking toward her. "I may tolerate you playing with your food, but I will not have you acting the same around our kind." His voice was stern, and displayed a bit of irritation. Whether it was at her, the two other vampire's behaviors, or just the incidents of the night she could not be sure. A slight hint of annoyance crossed Melissa's face as her fun was interrupted, but she immediately removed her gaze from Ony's direction. "Well, it seems that our gracious host has left us here alone. A bit rude, I must say, but I suppose it is his right. And after the recent events a calming down period may be needed." Kieran did not look at any particular member of the current gathering when he spoke, directing his attention mostly skyward. After a few moments he returned his attention back to earth. "I suppose I have been rude too in not introducing myself. My name is Kieran, and this is my protege, Raven. It is a pleasure to meet you."

OOC: Thanks for letting get in a write-up on the vampire Kieran sired, The Enemy. I think I had a bit too much fun on this write-up though. :animesmil [B]Name:[/B] Melissa ?Raven? Hunter [B]Age:[/B] 23 (newly turned) [B]Appearance:[/B] Melissa by all rights should be considered beautiful, however her insistence on overdone piercings and heavily Goth/Punk inspired look ruins the image for many. She stands at 5? 10?, with a lithe and curvy frame. Shoulder-length hair the color of midnight, and the source of her nickname, eyes a vibrant, icy blue. Her ears are pierced at least five times each, and slight marks indicate piercing previously in her nose and eyebrows (which Kieran forced her to remove after being sired). She wears heavy black eyeliner, lipstick and nail polish. Her usual clothing consists of a heavy jean-jacket with frayed cuffs at the elbows, a T-shirt emblazoned with the name of the latest hit band in the clubs, tattered jeans covered in various arcane symbols and anarchic slogans, and thick, knee-high, black leather boots. [B]Personality[/B]: A sadist at heart, Melissa loves to see people writhe in pain, distress, disgust, or at nearly anything. Seeing the fear in the eyes of her ?food? gives her a thrill, and she has been know to hunt one meal for hours, or until Kieran stops her. She is completely loyal to Kieran, whom she sees as having given her new life, power, and an eternity to play games of pain in. [B]Weapons:[/B] Melissa has a love of blades, and keeps two small daggers sheathed inside of her boots. She also keeps about a half dozen finger-length needles with her, which are often dipped in various toxins. [B]Powers:[/B] ?Eyes in the darkness.? Melissa?s powers have manifested in a control of shadows. She is able to use connecting shadows to travel from point to point, and can cloak herself and a limited number of other people in shadows for a short period. [B]Bio:[/B] A small scream of pain mixed with pleasure echoed through the room in the back of the nightclub, drowned out by the music after only a few feet outside the door. Knowing full well they could get caught and tossed out of the nightclub only made the evening more exciting for Melissa and the ?gentleman? she had convinced to follow her. A string of screams lasting nearly fifteen minutes continued to emanate from the room as she took out her frustrations, for her own pleasure more than anything. She was just lining up for another strike when the door burst open and the exit was shadowed by a tall figure in a business suit glaring at them with cold eyes. ?Use of the private spaces is likely to get you banned from this club,? Kieran spoke quietly, barely audible above the music now pulsing in loudly. ?Who the fuck are you,? the now bruising young man said in a ragged voice, ?and why the hell should I even care?? He stood up and approached Kieran in a threaten manner, a bad mistake. ?I am the owner of this club,? Kieran replied sternly, ?and as for why you should care?? He bared his fangs at the couple. Continuing to stare coldly he regarded the now shocked man. ?Cower.? In an instant the ?punching bag? of an insolent human hit the ground and backed into the corner, overcome by a supernatural fear. ?What the fuck?!? Melissa now spoke up, having broken through the momentary shock of what had just happened. Looking over at her Kieran entered the room and shut the door. ?It seems you have a love of pain and torture,? he spoke slowly, staring directly at her eyes. ?Perhaps we should see just how much you like pain, child. I can give you an eternity to test new pain in, and the power to exceed the weak attempts at pain you know now. All you have to do is give yourself and your future over to me, willingly. If not, well?? Kieran looked over at the human backed against the wall. A length of time passed as the thoughts passed through her mind, her face twisting through stages of emotion. Fear, confusion, anger, and finally excitement ending in a feral grin and she looked from Kieran to her previous playmate. ?An eternity of pain, eh? Sounds like fun to me. So, how do we do this?? A slight chuckle leaped Kieran?s lips as he approached her. ?If you were anyone else I would say ?close your eyes, it will all be over soon?, but I want you to look at the second present you will have waiting for you when it is over.? Kieran now stood behind Melissa and pointed past her to the frightened mass of human on the floor. With his left hand Kieran moved the hair from the right side of Melissa?s neck and leaned in for the bite. As his fangs pierced flesh a small moan escaped her throat. Several minutes later the screams of a man could be heard from the room, once more drowned out by the pulsating music outside in the club.

[B]Name[/B]: Kieran [B]Age[/B]: 376 [B]Appearance[/B]: Tall, slender and sleek. Standing at 6? 5? Kieran dwarfs many people. While having a defined muscle tone he is still rather thin, with arms and legs slightly longer than the average for his size. Amber colored eyes look out from a relatively average face, which is topped by raven black hair trimmed to a short business style. His day to day attire consists of business suits, normally grey jacket/pants with a black shirt. [B]Personality[/B]: Keiran?s personality can be hard to gauge. Most of the time he has a straightforward, business attitude (needed to run his own business). He can appear somewhat smug, and has an interest ?only in things of beauty.? At the same time he has a reputation as a playboy, and most consider it normal to see him slip into a back room with a new person each night (most never knowing about the feedings that occur). [B]Weapons[/B]: While he prefers hand-to-hand fighting, Kieran is still keeps a dagger hidden in the lining of his jacket. He also keeps a silver .357 revolver in a shoulder holster (hidden by the jacket), which he claims is ?just for decoration and beauty.? [B]Powers[/B]: ?His words are like sweet venom.? Kieran can create, within the minds of others, a strong emotion or belief with only his voice. Traditional emotions such as happiness and fear can be created along with beliefs such as ?your loyalties belong to me.? [B]Bio[/B]: Music pulsed through the back rooms of the nightclub that Kieran had ordered built. The main building was actually the remains of an old church that had suffered a fire on the anniversary of its construction, and ?accidental? fire. Kieran always got a laugh at that thought, a vampire owning his own church and converting it into a gothic nightclub, lovely irony. The]door to one of the clubs private rooms burst open as Kieran and a young female patron of the club slammed through it. The young lady?s back hit the back wall of the room rather hard as the two of them remained locked in a deep kiss, and her hands were currently being restrained above her head at the wrists by one of Kieran?s hands. He twisted them and the girl let out a little shriek. ?Ow! That hurts, damn it.? Kieran, not letting up the pressure, leaned forward and whispered into her ear. ?Pain is ecstasy.? For a moment her eyes turned cloudy as the effects of his power took hold. A moment later she began to shriek again, this time in pure delight of the pain. Kieran smiled and for a few minutes toyed with her, twisting her wrists a bit more, until it sounded like she would die of pleasure. At that moment he sunk his teeth into the flesh of her neck, and she collapsed as the feelings of pleasure over-exerted her body. When he was done Kieran set the young woman down in one of the room?s large couches and stood back up. ?Are you done sulking in the shadows, child?? In the corner of the room a shadow rippled and another young woman appeared. ?My apologies, sire.? The lithe vampire dropped to one knee, looking down. ?I did not mean to spy.? Kieran knew this was a lie, she always loved to spy on others. That was part of why he kept her around. He was about to leave the room when he voice stopped him. ?May I ask one thing? Why do you allow your food to feel pleasure? I thought you liked the look of fear they get.? Kieran paused for a moment on the reply. ?If you have to ask then I question why I bothered to sire you as a vampire.? She looked down once again in shame, and Kieran walked over and lifted her up, gazing into her eyes. ?The reason is simple, fear spoils the blood. I hate the taste of blood gone sour.? With that Kieran leaned forward and kissed the younger vampire, sharing a taste of the blood he had just taken. A moment later he turned and headed to the door, stopping before closing it. ?Remember that taste, it is the taste of true pleasure that you will likely never again know.? With that he shut the door to the room and walked away. :animeswea The bio kind of got away from me there. Let me know if there is anything you want changed.

[COLOR="DarkRed"][SIZE="1"]Can't play the "overly busy" card for my lack of appearance, but I can play the "brain-fried" card. Been pouring over core books for an RPG run by a friend, so a lot to catch up on and think about. So, yeah, my brain hurts. :animestun[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[SIZE="1"][COLOR="DarkRed"]As was often the case, sleep would not come to Amanda this night. Attempts to pick up the Wraith trail from the night before had proven effective beyond her expectations, and she now found herself back in the same abandoned building she had left not a few hours ago. For reasons she had yet to decipher a lone Wraith had made it's way back to the now utterly vacant building. Was it looking for another victim in a familiar location? Was this building it's idea of home, and it was just returning here? Perhaps it knew of her previous killings here and was laying a trap expecting her to return, or even following her from another point she had not picked up on. There were too many questions, and just not enough data to do more than spill circles speculating ideas. For now, though, she had bigger problems to try and deal with. A rush of air passed mere inches above Amanda's head as she narrowly dodged the Wraith's brutal kick. These new inhumans were surprisingly fast, and seemed to have an innate knowledge of attacking like a champion kickboxer, minus the use of fists. Amanda's fist flew upward, intending to smash the Wraith in the chin with a punishing uppercut, but it merely struck air as the Wraith leaned back out of the way. A second later it was halfway across the room with a short hop backwards. "I don't suppose I could convince you to politely stand still for your judgment, could I?" Amanda never meant the phrase as a joke, like many of the action-movie loving newbie hunters tended to. Pointlessly dramatic phrases were a waste. Instead she was attempting to gauge the inhuman's understanding of language or vocal intonation. The Wraith merely cocked it's head to one side, like a confused dog failing to understand it's master's command, and leaped forward to begin it's attack anew. Blows were traded on both sides, and as time drew on Amanda began to wear down even though the Wraith never seemed to. [I]If this continues I'm screwed. Guess I have no choice in the matter.[/I] With a flurry of kicks and punches Amanda jumped forward toward the Wraith. Instinctively it reacted by hopping back a few steps to avoid the attacks, and regain a more offensive advantage. However, this was exactly what Amanda had planned on. Standing upright she covered her right eye with her left hand. "I can see your fate. Now stand still for it." For a moment ethereal chains rose from the ground and wrapped around the Wraith, dragging it down before fading from view. The chains were a visible side-effect of Amanda's edge, and even though they had faded the effects of the edge itself held fast. [I]Better make this fast before this one drains me.[/I] For a moment Amanda kneeled down as if she was before a god, and spoke quietly before kissing her own right knee. ?In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.? Without a moment's hesitation she jumped up and delivered a kick to the chest of the Wraith. A second before impact her lower leg was wreathed in ghostly red streamers of light, which flared for a moment when the kick connected. The Wraith's entire upper torso literally exploded backwards, covering the nearby walls and floor with a black liquid Amanda has seen from previous encounters. Amanda slumped back against a nearby wall to regain her breath. Two edges like that in combo could be taxing. Later that night, or closer to morning by this point, Amanda made her way back to the hotel. After a quick shower and a quick cup of tea she sat down to check the latest on Hunter-Net. What she found was the biggest shockwave she had seen on the system in a long time. The message was straightforward, and very grim, and the responses from fellow hunters varied from it being a hoax to "we can't afford to take it as false." Waiting in her in-box was another surprise. [I]So, looks like a change of scenery is in my future. New Orleans? A bit of a haul from here. I'm still not sure what I should make of this, but it's part of the job, hoax or otherwise.[/I] Amanda shut down the computer for the night and took to her waiting bed. Sleep was going to be required if she planned to make the drive to New Orleans from here, and given that it may be the last sleep she would get for a few days either way it was best to take it now.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE="1"][COLOR="DarkRed"]With a sudden start Amanda burst out of bed at the sound of screaming nearby her hotel room's window. Instinctively she grabbed her Walther from it's holster and took aim in various directions as she scanned the room for possible intrusions. It took a minute for the shock to wear off enough for her to think clearly. It was late, sometime in the hours just before sundown, by the look of the room's shadows. Had she really been asleep that long? The sound of screaming now cleared itself up, and was more recognizable a angry yelling than the sound of panic induced screams. A quick glance to the street from behind the room's curtains revealed the cause. [I]It's just a car crash. Quick acting like kids, exchange your information, and get driving.[/I] Amanda sighed quietly as she holstered the gun and turned from the window. Reaching into a bag on the table she grabbed a small breakfast bar to calm her hunger, and grabbed the empty pot off of the electric heating unit. Luckily for her the hotel she had picked provided a self-heating pitcher for guests who like a strong cup of coffee, or green tea in Amanda's case, to start off the day or end the night. After filling the pot she set it down on the heating unit and turned to the computer on her desk. Straight to Hunters-Net. [I]Hmm? A message from Salvage458 already? Insomnia must be handed out free with the job.[/I] Reading through the contents of the message brought little surprise to Amanda, and she mentally composed a response while brewing a cup of tea. [I][B]To:[/B]Salvage458 [B]Subject:[/B] Re: Request for further information As of right now I have no definitive information regarding the method of locating Wraiths. Up to this point I have only managed to track them from their kills, days behind in many cases, due to a lack of useful intel from a contact. So far the best tracking method is to look for unusually high body counts with little to no physical wounds and a visage locked in pure fear. High concentrations of carrion feeders in urban areas or anywhere unusual may also be an indication of where to start a search. I will attach a map of the area I have found the first Wraiths in to this message, and will continue to apprise you of further information I collect on the upcoming hunts. For now I will be working the hunt without the outdated reports I had priorly received, so new updates may take a few days of tracking to surface. --Archangel298[/I] Having long since finished her food and drink during the composition of the message Amanda shut down the computer and went to clean up, both the food and herself. Shortly thereafter she headed out of the hotel and back towards the building of her previous night's encounter. A few Rots and and some other low level carrion feeders had to be taken down from their feast on the human bodies left behind, however it seems none of them had gone near the two Wraiths she had killed. Both were still lying there in a pool of the black substance that had poured from their wounds. [I]So, even the death feeders wont touch their corpses. I'll have to note that one just in case. Now comes the fun part.[/I] Amanda was glad this building was located in a quiet part of town and long since abandoned to the ceaseless political whining about what to do with the area. It made moving the bodies to her truck much easier without the notice of others. Cleanup was always one of the worst parts of the job. Once she had all of the remains moved into the covered bed of the slightly beat-up pick-up truck she owned Amanda moved them out into a field a few miles from the city. There she proceeded to move them a short distance in and doused them in gasoline before talking a match to the remains. As the funeral pyre ignited she bowed her head for a moment before making her way back, careful to cover as much evidence of her presence there as she could. Now she just had to return the hard part of the night. Picking up a trail of any remaining Wraiths which could be cold, if not completely nonexistent.[/COLOR][/SIZE]