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[font=lucida sans][b]“It is not their intelligence, that deathly satanic madness, nor the incredible feats that put them far beyond anything a human can hope for that scares the world; it’s their eyes. The eyes that tell the story and the only eyes that will soon see it end.”[/b][/font]


[align=justify][font=arial][size=1]“Out! Everybody out!”

There were no sirens because the fires had burned them all out. There were no lights because the shockwave had smashed them all clear from the bulkheads. The only direction was instinct.

Sin bounded his way through the corridors with his hands held in front of his eyes to protect his vision. Any debris in the way was pushed out of the way by his horns, including the bodies of his comrades, dead or alive.

His hearing felt damp – useless - and his eyesight was clouded in blood. His muscles felt weak from having been knocked cold out moments ago from a fallen door and he was covered in wounds, fatal to most but not to him. He lifted his head a took a breather coming face to face with the fires of hell erupting through the corridors. He didn’t wince; fire didn’t hurt him.


When Sin spun around to the voice that called him the ceiling above him gave way. Grids and the insides of the ship fall onto his head knocking him flat on the floor with a growl and a grunt; he crawled and struggled to pull himself free but the components were too heavy and his sight was too narrow.

“Sin! Take it!”

That voice to Sin’s ears was rough like it got caught in a grater up the throat. Sin opened one eye and saw the gnarling jaws of Baal in front of his face, his massive paws extended in Sin’s face. Despite his anger at being seen as a stuck pig in front of Baal, Sin took his hand and was pulled out of the wreckage with rough ease.

“We have to get out! Through the fire!” Sin shouted above the noise.

“I can’t! I can’t touch the fire!”

“Then die!”

Sin ignored Baal. He covered his eyes with his hands and charged through the fire with Baal’s frantic cries erupting behind him, but Sin didn’t care. No, of course he didn’t.

A blast of cold hit Sin’s face and he looked up to the sky of a new world. Their ship was entirely in flames, embedded deep into the ground of the desolate planet. Sin took a breather and made his way far from the ship.

He looked back. He could see hands, vaguely, trying to reach out through the bulkheads but failing from the fire. He could hear screams of burning flesh and smell their agony, but he didn’t help them. A few survived the initial crash and only Sin, it seemed, had survived the fire.

He sat down in exhaustion with heavy breathing clogging his ability to speak and intense carbon monoxide clouding his mind. He closed his burning eyes and let his head fall back into the dirt, a smile twitching on his face from the agony he envisioned.

[center]- - -[/center]

Earth. Once ruled by the dinosaurs, now half burnt and ready to enter an ice age. The planet’s atmosphere changed in moments of the crash to something sinister, something wicked, just like its new guests.

Hidden away behind the trees from the creatures of the planet, Baal growled over Sin. His instincts wanted to rip the demon’s face off and make him eat it again, kill the immortal over and over again. But a hand touched Baal’s furry shoulder and backed him away.

“Leave him, Baal. We need him.”

“Yes, Chronus.”

Chronus flexed her wings, though burnt and scarred as they were, grimacing as she did.

“Only four.”

That voice was metallic and cold to the tone. Chronus and Baal turned to Reshef, the ship’s mechanic, his machine armour wrecked and ripped away leaving exposed, black skin. He looked up at them.

“We are the only survivors. This is our world now.”

“[I]Our[/I] world?”

That breathing. That hoarse breathing combined with the faintest touch of laughter came from the cocaine lips of Sin, who awake slowly and sat up, sharp teeth bared into a smile.

“This is [I]my[/I] world. I was the first out and the highest rank on the ship, which still applies here. We live to survive. You will not survive without my guidance.”

“I survived well enough without you!” Baal hissed.

“You were a Starship Commodore. There is no Starship here. You have no authority.” Reshef invoked.

“If I have no authority than I have no reason to keep you alive and we all [I]know[/I] I’m capable of that.”

“You’re capable of uncanny arrogance, Sin,” Chronus perked up, “nothing more. We have to work together until someone finds us.”

“Yeah, in a thousand years.” Baal scoffed.

“Far more.” Reshef dragged in a shallow robot breath and continued. “Supplies are limited on this planet. We cannot afford to fight. We must form an alliance.”


Baal grunted. “Agreed.”

And all eyes turned on Sin. All eyes turned to the Commodore Demon with his wicked eyes and wicked smile, the smile that only grew bigger. He laughed.[/size][/font]


[font=lucida sans]The destruction of the dinosaurs came at exactly the same time as the crash landing of an interstellar spaceship from the complete other side of the Universe. There were only four survivors.

Though three survivors agreed to work together the Commodore, Sin, was not enthusiastic. Arguments erupted in the centuries the four lived together, until the fighting began.

As humanity evolved and took its place in the horrible little biosphere four tyrants raged across the lands trying to gain the upper hand and rule. Their names became famous in early history as an influence but their legacy had only just started.

As time went by the survivors gave birth to children. Children that, because of the human DNA involved, bore little resemblance to their alien parents. Further and further down the bloodline the alien DNA faded, soon leaving only red eyes and, eventually, leaving nothing.

The war went on until the tyrants became to tired to fight. They slept, along, in the darkest regions of the planet without a single clue left as to where they were and their only mark a vague scrap of DNA embedded in humans.

But the DNA that ran through those few strands of humanity was strong and unstable. Bursts of intelligence or strength could sometimes be found in a few individuals throughout the years but never enough to cause a disturbance.

When the DNA erupted in the genes of a few their came rise, suddenly, to human beings so beyond their forefathers that they could only be described as Posthumans.

The rise of the Posthuman will, eventually, cause the rise of the four alien survivors. And that, some predict, will start off an effect to end humanity as we know it by the hands of the very creatures that wanted to rule it.

And it’ll all be seen through beautifully red demon eyes.


You will be playing a descendant of the original alien survivors from the crash from four different clans: Sin, Reshef, Baal and Chronus. Each clan contains their own unique devices and attributes; your character will wake up one day with red eyes, distinct of each clan, but your powers will not fully develop at once. The one thing each player has in common: an undying, unbearable need to destroy any revival clan members.

[center][img]http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/3360/sincopy.png[/img] – [img]http://img41.imageshack.us/img41/2851/reshefcopy.png[/img] [img]http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/9632/baalcopy.png[/img] – [img]http://img34.imageshack.us/img34/139/chronuscopy.png[/img]

Sin is, by far, the most brutal and disturbing of the survivors. He possess profound strength, intelligence and speed though not as advanced as his fellow survivors. But, to make up for this, Sin’s method of intimidation makes him the very epitome of demons and evil. His descendants may possess horns or discoloured skin and will eventually develop the sick sense of humour, the brutality and the heartless antics of Sin but have no specific powers compared to other clans, ranging only from intimidation techniques or mind tricks. Members of the Sin clan are also immune to heat and fire but can find themselves considerably at a disadvantage in the cold.

Half robot and half alien. Reshef’s intelligence is unrivalled, as is his technologic prowess. The mind of Reshef can develop new ideas and new strategies in a matter of seconds when it would take normal beings days or even weeks. He is resourceful and is the most dangerous in terms of his intelligence. Members of the Reshef clan can find themselves with a unique ability to control machinery and technology and will, eventually, find an urge to cover up their skin with new armour and gadgets as it becomes distinctly black and ugly.

The most violent and the strongman. Baal is a beast amongst the pigeons everywhere he goes, shown to have absolute strength but less intelligence than the other survivors. He is quick to judge, unstable, destructive but a powerful addition to any force. The Baal clan eventually develop animal-like qualities, from sharper teeth to full-grown alien-wolf appearances and have a very good communication with nature and animals alike.

The peacemaker. Chronus is intelligent but not like Reshef and is less keen on violence. Her wings allow her flight and the greatest speed of all the survivors and her background differs from the other survivors as her species, though from the same solar system, posses many advantages. Most members of the Chronus clan will develop wings sooner or later and, eventually, an ability to control small amounts of energy into concussion beams, energy blasts and force fields.[/center][/font]


[size=1]The sign-up is simple. In any form you feel suitable, I want a name, an age, a nationality, your clan, your powers, appearance and personality. I’d also like a little bit of background information for your characters.

As for the powers, which I've just edited in now lol, you can have anything revolving around your chosen clan but the Sin clan is the least experimental. For example, a member of the Chronus clan can possess the ability to vibrate their molecules so fast that they can move through walls. Or a member of the Sin clan could create moving shadows (the Sin clan revolves around fear). A Reshef member, as another example, could have more 'modifications' than powers and a Baal clan member is open to all kinds of animalistic powers.

I deliberately left out a lot of storyline that was originally there, so don’t take that as bad or rushed writing, take that as an opportunity for the history of this hidden little world to develop.

So bring on the characters and bring on the games. We’re going to have fun here.[/size][/align]

EDIT: I decided to post my draft sign-up as an example.

[font=lucida sans][center][B]Andrew ‘Acey’ Slade[/b]
Guitarist/Lead Vocals

Acey was born in Berlin, 1988. He’s the [b]21-year-old German[/b] prodigal guitarist, vocalist and songwriter for Nightmare Industries, an industrial-gothic band based in Germany. Acey is an only child, receiving top of the range education throughout his entire life but wasting it all and refusing to go to University to work on his band which, incidentally, did bring him the income he deserved. Acey’s over the top, above the bar, below the belt antics have given him and his band a reputation in the musical circuit as one of the most electric acts to date, drawing the line between modesty and vulgarity and deliberately crossing it with style.

Attitude wise, Acey has taken off from the platform of rockstar life. While indulging in everything being a star has to offer he tends to take it beyond the next level; he’s rude, sexual, demeaning to some, a son of anarchy and a complete bastard when it comes to whatever he wants. Though driven by a horrible need to disgust the world and show he doesn’t care, Acey’s educated background has given him a foundation of Philosophy, English Literature, English Language and Psychology. But he doesn’t really care about [I]that[/I].


[b]"Yet we breathe - terror to some - heaven to others. What do angels dream, do angels sleep, do demons dream of darkness deep?"[/center][/b]

[align=justify]Acey is a member of the [B]Sin[/b] clan and has already been influenced by the dark demon in his early life. His powers revolve in the mind of his victim’s dreams. Either by touching the head directly Acey can enter a person’s dream world and lock them in for as long as he wants, or until his body is disrupted during the process. And, later on, Acey will find that if he acquires an object a person had on them quite often (such as clothes, jewelery or parts of their body) he can jump into their mind whenever they are asleep [I]wherever[/I] they are.

From his long life of rock and roll Acey can be very dangerous even with limited powers. His ability to push himself beyond his own limits makes him dangerous, especially now with enhanced speed and strength. He’s a dare devil, violent and brutal, not afraid of anything in his path and prepared to go to the very limits to get what he wants.[/align][/font]
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[CENTER][B][COLOR="DarkRed"][I]Name:[/I][/COLOR][/B] Emilia "Luther" Giovonii
[I]The Mafia Princess[/I]

[B][COLOR="DarkRed"][I]Age:[/I][/COLOR][/B] 19

[B][COLOR="DarkRed"][I]Sex:[/I][/COLOR][/B] Female

[B][COLOR="DarkRed"][I]Nationality:[/I][/COLOR][/B] Italian

[B][COLOR="DarkRed"][I]Clan:[/I][/COLOR][/B] Sin

[B][COLOR="DarkRed"][I]Powers:[/I][/COLOR][/B] Emilia has the power to transform anyones greatest fears into a gruesome mirage. No one but the victim can see and feel the images, thus making it worse for the prey. The hallucination doesn't actually hurt them, but while induced in the mirage, they will feel whatever pain is given, to the extent that it is real, even as to kill them if their brain and/or heart cannot handle it. As her power grows, she will be able to trap multiple people in these mirages, possibly even bringing the images to the real world....

[B][COLOR="DarkRed"][I]Appearance:[/I][/COLOR][/B] [IMG]http://images.funadvice.com/photo/image/83973/normal/new2.jpg[/IMG]

[B][COLOR="DarkRed"][I]Personality:[/I][/COLOR][/B] Emilia is outspoken and domineering. Her violent sense of humor brings chills to her comrades, along with her eerie cruelty. A quiet confidence leads her to obtain whatever she desires, even through deadly means. Her belief in force over persuasion often causes trouble, but she usually gets her way.

[/CENTER] Emilia was born into the powerful Giovonii family. Raised as her fathers princess, she grew up getting anything she wanted. She was sent to the most expensive schools, whilst being followed by armed bodyguards, which seemed average to her. Over the years, her fathers "business" became a personal interest of hers, even to the point of becoming highly skilled with her pistols. She even took care of a few "marks" her father had been searching for. Once she was finished with school, she became very involved with underground clubs and learning the ropes in her fathers loan operations.
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[B][COLOR=red]Name[/COLOR][/B]: Koda Creedmore

[B][COLOR=red]Age[/COLOR][/B]: 23

[B][COLOR=red]Sex[/COLOR][/B]: Male

[COLOR=red][B]Nationality[/B][/COLOR]: American

[COLOR=red][B]Clan[/B][/COLOR]: Baal

[COLOR=red][B]Personality[/B][/COLOR]: Koda's loyalty has won him recognition and praise from the military. Unfortunetly his viciousness and brutality are what kept Delta Force from keeping him around. Koda has become a loner outside of the military, choosing solitude over friendship.



[B]Koda in Berserk mode[/B]

[B][COLOR=red]Powers[/COLOR][/B]: As of right now, the only two powers Koda has been able to develop is his incredible strength and animalistic agility. He has been known to enter a "beserk" state in which he loses all track of himself, though he has no means to control it.

As he develops his animalistic qualities will become more evident. Such as fingernails that will act as retractable claws, tree sap like blood that will help keep him from bleeding out.

[B][COLOR=red]Background[/COLOR][/B]: Once a warrior always a warrior. Baal's influences ran deap in Koda even at a young age. He was always fighting even as a young child, at age 8 he put a boy 4 years older then him in the hospital.

As puberty set in, his brutality was enhanced when he developed a seemingly superhuman strength. He was barred from all sports due to his overly agressive nature, even the local boxing team wanted nothing to do with him.

Once he graduated Koda did the only thing that was right for him, joining the military. After going through boot camp as if it was nothing, he was picked up by Lt. Colonel Brent Tragger, one of Delta Force's top officials. Tragger taught him to harnass his rage...to an extent.

After being dropped into Iraq, Koda earned a purple heart, and a medal of honor after single handidly rescuing a captured journalist. He also won the recognition, and fear of his comrades. With a confirmed kill ratio higher then his whole batallion he was given many nicknames behind his back, "Reaper" and "Beastman" were two of his favorites.

After two years, the military refused to let him reinlist after a scandal involving him supposedly killing 4 of his squadmates in battle because they attempted to restrain him, the accusations proved unfounded and Koda wasn't court martialed, but the refusal of his reinlistment tore him apart.

Around the time he turned 21 koda found a home that he could be happy in. Somewhere in Southern Montana, he found a weekly pride fighting tournament. He currently is 100-0 bringing in challengers from all across the globe. Knowing he's "different' Koda has been attempting to harnass his anamilistic abilities, beliving them to be a lot deaper then he could ever imagine...
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[center][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/KaiGabrielBanner.jpg[/IMG][/FONT]
[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode] [center]
Beads of sweat rolled slowly down Kai Gabriel's flushed forehead, being flung away from the skin every so often as he flicked the hair out of his face. The stale stench of sweat and alcohol mingled with the ever-rising heat in the large, black-walled room permeated his nostrils, and the bright red lights burnt through his closed eyelids with astonishing intensity.[/center][/FONT][center]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]The heavy thumps of the bass drum rumbled through Kai's body as his calloused fingers thundered on his bass strings, bashing out a complex triplet-based rhythm as the frontman, shirtless and sweating heavily, encouraged the pulsating, screaming crowd to clap along with the bass drum. He opened his eyes and smiled over the crowd, raising the neck of his bass as his fingers thumped out the final few notes of the song, jumping in time with the final smash on the drums. The crowd went wild, and Kai ducked between his amp-stack and the drum riser, pulling his bass strap over his head and dropping his bass onto it's stand. He ripped his sweat-soaked black shirt off, revealing a tight black sleeveless top, and muscular, tattooed arms. He twisted his leather wriststrap around to a more comfortable position, and slung his guitar strap back over his head.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]His boots thudded back onto the stage as Jonny, the frontman, spoke to the crowd, introducing the next song. Kai turned to his amp and twisted the volume knob up further, snapping his hand back as the dial gave him a strong, painful static shock. A sudden pain flared up behind his eyes, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the cool metal of his tungsten finger-rings on his skin.[/FONT]
[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"You ok, Kai?"[/B] asked Isaac, the drummer, and Kai nodded, grabbing his beer from the floor and taking a huge swig. The pain began to fade, and he smiled at his friend and bandmate as he walked up to the microphone, feedback whining in his ears.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]He and Jonny howled out the lyrics to the intro of the next song in unison, and as Issac slammed his sticks down onto the drumskins, Kai's finger swung down towards his E string. As it hit home, the sound that erupted from the amp was far in advance of what the technology was capable of.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]The front of the amp exploded outwards, shattering into pieces as smoke and sparks shot from the inner workings of the device. Kai was knocked forwards and off his feet, almost falling into the gap between the stage and the crowd barrier. His beer bottle shattered into pieces, the lights directly above where he was standing blew out and smashed, and the crowd standing directly in front of Kai were blasted with a wall of sound.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Screams of pain and surprise filled Kai's ears as he drifted into unconsciousness...[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]---[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]A few days later, Kai woke up in the bed of his own London studio apartment, his head still pounding, the pain behind his eyes flared up once again. He struggled to haul himself out of bed and over to the front door, where a pile of mail lay waiting for him, including a copy of the previous day's newspaper, which had a full report of the incident.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"Chaos As Rock Gig Goes Awry!"[/B] claimed the bold headline. The article went on to give details:[/FONT]
[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]"Rock band Reverent Power lived up to their chaotic reputation last night as bassist Kai Gabriel'S (26) amplifier exploded, due to an unknown electrical fault. Several members of the crowd were injured as a result, and former heroin addict Gabriel himself was rushed to hospital with a suspected concussion. Further details on page 7..."[/FONT][/B]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Kai threw the paper to the floor and padded into the bathroom. He dropped the plug into the hole and filled the sink with ice-cold water, before plunging his face into the bowl and leaving it there until he ran out of breath.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]As he withdrew himself from the water, his hair clinging in damp locks to his face and neck, he began to hear something. Just a whisper, in the back of his head.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"Chronus..."[/B] it whispered, a pounding rhythm playing behind the whisper, [B]"...Chronus..."[/B][/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]He closed his eyes and shook his head, tilted his head up to the mirror, and opened his eyes as the pain behind them subsided.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Crimson.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]His eyes were crimson, the colour of blood, bright and almost glowing as he looked into them. He kept his glare on his reflection, and relaxed a little as the intensity of the colour lessened, until they were a darker shade of red than a few moments previously.[/FONT]

[B][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]"Fuck me..."[/FONT][/B]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]---[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]Kai Gabriel[/B], bassist and backing vocalist of [B]British [/B]rock band [B]Reverent Power[/B]. A former heroin addict, Kai has two thick horizontal lines tattooed on his neck, to represent the two years he has been clean. Since a near-fatal overdose, he has become more balanced and well-adjusted, cleaning up his act as much as possible. However, he still has a fondness for the finer things in life - alcohol, tobacco, money and women - leaving out only the drugs part of the rock and roll lifestyle.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Kai is also a descendant of [B]Chronus[/B], with the ability of[B] sonic energy manipulation[/B]. This means he can control soundwaves, directing them and enhancing them through his innate ability. He hasn't mastered his power yet, but he can take something as quiet as a whistle or a finger-click and amplify the sound to a powerful wall of sonic energy. On the flipside, he can also decrease sound levels, to the extent that he can essentially "steal" a person's voice.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]His eyes are red, so he keeps them covered for the most part with a pair of mirrored aviator shades. He has not developed his wings yet, but they are sure to follow soon.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]He wears three solid silver-and-tungsten rings, one on the index finger of his left hand, and one each on the ring and pinky fingers of his right hand, and has a pair of silver rings pierced through the top of his right ear.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]
[B]EDIT: [/B]Image now attached
[/FONT] [/center]
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[CENTER][FONT="Book Antiqua"][B]“Get away!”[/B]

The young man sprung up from his bed in a cold sweat, his breath escaping violently from his mouth. He immediately began surveying the room, examining every nook and cranny for any sign of life. There was nothing there of course, but he still felt uneasy, as if he was in danger of being overwhelmed at any minute. He pushed the feeling aside as quickly as he could, closed his eyes and sighed heavily. This had been happening more frequently. That damned dream was beginning to plague him, and he never understood it. He probably never would understand it, he assumed. It wasn’t the kind of thing that drove most to violently abrupt awakenings.

The dreamscape, some place he could not define as anything but a metaphysical prison, was dark, horridly dark. The only sounds that came to his ears were the sound of gears grinding and wings flapping in unison. The combination of the two almost sounded like… like laughing. He wasn’t sure if he was himself or another, but he knew he was afraid. Terribly afraid. And it seemed as if every moment he spent in the dream he became more afraid, as if every second the darkness was becoming more crushing, the noises were becoming louder and louder until finally it was as if they were upon him and then he woke up, roaring in terror.

He shook some of the sweat off his face, his shoulder length golden hair flopping roughly against his face. He attempted to wipe off the rest of the sweat on the back of his hand, but found that he couldn’t. Looking down at his hands, he realized his nails had been lodged through his mattress and into the actual bed frame. He growled angrily and forcefully pried his hands free. It was things like [I]this[/I] that had caused him to run away from home… and the fact that he had tossed his father down a flight of stairs in anger. He snarled again. The thought of his father always made him angry.

He shook off the feeling, hopped out of bed and yawned, a ferocious roar tearing from his mouth and echoing through the cabin. He loved this place more than any other because he could be himself in entirety. He didn’t have to shove his hands in his pockets to hide his claws, or restrain his yawns so that he didn’t frighten away any citizens or get mocked relentlessly by Sin children… No, here he was at home. A beeping sound from his left caught his attention and caused him to wince.

[B]“If only I could stay here permanently…”[/B] He walked over to the table in his living room and grabbed a place cell phone, clearly out of place in this wilderness retreat. The battery was dying. And he knew what that meant—it was time to travel into town to go see [I]her[/I]. He had considered numerous times just destroying the phone, grinding it down into dust, and watching his last tie with humanity crumble away. But then he could see her face, her caring eyes filled with sadness, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He growled and slammed the phone back down on the table, then spun on his heel and walked over to his dresser. He had kept the clothes for her also. Well… In all fairness, he hadn’t just kept them for her. He also kept them for the spontaneous urges his body had for manmade food. As rare as they were, on the off chance he did desire a pizza, the no shirt, no shoes, no service rule applied for everyone, all of the time.

He grabbed a black t-shirt, a white zip-up hooded sweater, and dark blue jeans and threw them on lazily. He took a look at his sneakers and grimaced, grabbing instead his sandals. If anyone had a problem with the bestial condition of his feet they could deal with it. Lastly he grabbed his beanie, attempting to cover his unmanageably messy hair, and a pair of glasses. Granted, he didn’t need the glasses any longer; since the changes began his vision had become unbelievably powerful. But the glasses were one of the few things he still liked from his previous life.

Finally prepared, at least physically, he threw open the door to the cabin and bounded down the mountainside at a lightning quick pace. The sandals didn’t impede his ability to run, nor did the fallen logs or animal carcasses littered around. He smiled slightly as he ran by them. His habit of hunting near his home had made it so that the locals thought the place was inhabited by some beast, which it was, so they avoided the building ‘like the plague’. And those few who did brave entering the cabin… well, he had the pleasure of scaring them half to death.

He didn’t have to run long before having reached the city. He slowed his pace down substantially, moseying into the city so that nobody would notice him. He sent his body into autopilot as he traversed the familiar roads, past the familiar people, to the familiar burger place. He smirked and walked in; sure enough, she already had a seat in back. He shook his head in amusement as she excitedly waved him over. Before he had even made it half way to the table she had apparently lost her patience and decided to run over to meet him. He braced himself as she jumped into his arms. Despite dreading this whole situation, her voice soothed his soul.

[B]“Caleb!”[/B] He couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. He blew her long bluish-black hair out of his face and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

[B]“Good to see you too, Flo.”[/B] Flo took a step back to inspect Caleb. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets. She did this every time—looked him over to see if he had changed any, that was. He was sure he hadn’t; he was still about 6’2’’, his wiry frame was still roughly 165 lbs. of muscle; his skin was still roughly the same tanned white it had been last time they saw each other. Even the crimson eyes were the same, though those had taken her some time to become accustomed to. It wasn’t just his looks she was surveying, though. It was probably--

[I]Whack![/I] He groaned lightly as her hand met his arm. [I]Yep… That was what she was looking for,[/I] he thought to himself. Her voice came to him again, and this time it was angry.

[B]“You’re hurt!”[/B] He grinned and shrugged lightly.

[B]“I’m sorry? A guys gotta eat ya know… and bears aren’t exactly easy to wrestle down.”[/B] She glared intently at him, not amused by what she hoped was a joke. Now it was Cale’s turn to look Flo over. She was still as he remembered as well. Still 5’7’’. Still wearing glasses despite her brilliant blue eyes. Still as white as snow and easily flushed. And still dressing to impress him. She opened her mouth to yell at him some more but her quickly cut her off by putting his hand on her should and smiling.

[B]“Why don’t we sit down, yah? People are staring.”[/B] She blinked once then quickly looked right and left. Indeed, everyone in the restaurant had turned their attention to the two. She blushed and grabbed his hand, pulling him over to their booth. The waiter come by and asked Cale what he’d like to order. He glanced over at Flo and responded quickly.

[B]“A cheeseburger, please. Rare.”[/B] Flo stopped the waiter before he could leave.

[B]“He was just kidding. He meant medium well.”[/B] The waiter nodded and walked off. Cale shook his head and smiled at her.

[B]“Still trying hard to reincorporate me into society, huh? Plenty of people eat their food rare, ya know…”[/B] She ignored the comment and began talking about something else.

[B]“I’m so glad you’re back down! I was starting to think I had timed it wrong… Or that you finally decided…”[/B] Cale quickly took her hand in his and smiled broader.

[B]“You know that as much as I bitch and whine about these visits they mean the world to me. You mean the world to me.”[/B] She instantly perked up and squeezed his hand.

[B]“Well… If I mean so much to you… Why don’t you spend the week down here? My roommates going to be gone for the week, and—Don’t give me that look!”[/B] Cale’s smile had been fading with every word, and now his grimace was like a beacon of light on his face. Granted, he had known she would ask him when their skin had touched earlier—he had been able to ‘pull’ that feeling from her. He scratched his head awkwardly and looked out the window.

[B]“You know how I feel about spending time here… I only come to see you, but if I stay too long someone’s bound to notice me, tell someone else, and that’ll get back to my family…”[/B] He trailed off as his teeth clenched together and his eyes narrowed. The thought of his father [B]always[/B] made him angry. She squeezed his hand again, and he looked back to her. Though he could still ‘feel’ her emotions, the softness and compassion in her eyes took him back. He hung his head in defeat.

[B]“Fine… I’ll stay the week.”[/B]


[I]Caleb “Cale” Alexander Wilde.


Only a few years ago the [B]Baal[/B] inside of him began to boil up. He became more and more aggressive to all of the people in his life, especially his father, who did little to check his own aggression. Father and son clashed over and over again, until finally their bickering became a full-fledged brawl, during which Cale lifted his father over his head and tossed him down a flight of stairs. Immediately after that, he packed all of his belongings and ‘moved’ into the Riverside Mountains near his previous college, University of California Riverside, in the USA. Before heading up, however, he was given a phone by his close friend Flo Fairweather, who made him promise he would come down to visit her.

His ability manifested itself on one of his first dates with Flo. As soon as he reached over to touch her hand, he was overwhelmed with her emotions, which almost formed a coherent thought in his mind. His senses, being heightened to past the peak of human condition, allowed him originally to get a general feel for other peoples’ emotions and to roughly predict what actions they were about to perform. Since developing, he has found that by touching Flo, through what he calls ‘intense empathy’, he can become highly tuned to her feelings, almost to the point of being able to read her mind. He is not sure, however, on whether or not this is true with other people. He believes that if this ability does affect other people, there's a good chance he can influence their emotions or make them feel what he's feeling. This is only speculation, of course.

Aside from that, he has developed some animal like qualities—i.e. sharp teeth, elongated claws, slightly rougher skin, and untamable shoulder length hair[which is indeed longer than in the picture].[/I][/FONT][/CENTER]
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[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.

Okay, that was just a short intro, so here is the meat & potatoes of the character:
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.
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[COLOR="Navy"][FONT="Comic Sans MS"]Name: Irin Hale

Age: 22

Sex: Female

Nationality: Irish/Scottish

Clan: Baal

Personality: Rough and rude she speaks her mind with out care of the consequences, she is a loud mouth and a hot head and rushes into a fight with out hearing both sides of the story. She would rather beat a person stupid than hear sorry excuses. She does however share a certain fondness for animals that she takes to an extreme.

Appearance: [URL="http://media.photobucket.com/image/anime%20punk%20girl/Narasgirl/Anime/PunkGirl.jpg"]Irin[/URL]

Powers: At the moment she has basic powers, she can speak to animals, and has a rather feral look about her, she has sharp nails, and her canine teeth are elongated to resemble fangs she is gifted with acute sense of smell and hearing as well. As she matures she realizes she becomes more animalistic and eventually will be able to take on the form of a large upright black wolf.

Background: Irin looked over the city she had lived in all her life with emotionless eyes, scanning for anything she thought might amuse her. She sucked on the small bone in her mouth getting the last bit of flavor from it that she could knowing it might be her only meal for a little while. She looked down at the large stray dog that had taken a liking to her and snapped the small poultry bone in half handing a the other half to the dog and watched with amusement as it crunched the bone down swiftly. She went back to scanning the crowded street when her hearing caught the noise of a band of street kids near the alley she was calling home at the moment. Pushing her self off the wall she put her hands in her pockets and walked at a measured pace through the streets, wrinkling her nose at all the perfumes and colognes that the people put on to cover up their own nasty scent she followed the noise till she turned down another alley and stopped short as she saw five boys kicking a small dog that seemed to be half dead already. She began to see red and felt her lips pull back over her teeth in a snarl as the dog let out a feeble whimper. She felt the growl rip from her throat as she charged into the middle of them throwing one of the five young men against the back brick wall, hearing his head hit the stone she smiled inwardly and faced the other four.
"If I were you I would turn around and walk away."
She smelt the steel before they had it drawn, butterfly knives, she shook her head and smiled more as they rushed her all at once. A few moments later she walked out of the alley the little dog in her arms, blood spots decorating her clothes and face. As she turned away from the alley there were no signs of the young men that were there before, just blood and rags ripped from their clothes. A few days later the evening news had a report on the TV about five young men that had been brutally murdered and stuffed into trash cans.
She had been born here, and her parents had died in a car crash at the age of four, she had been alone and fighting to live on the streets since than. [/FONT][/COLOR]

If anything needs changed or whatever let me know.
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[CENTER][URL="http://img2.cdn.crunchyroll.com/i/spire4/05082008/2/f/2/4/2f24db0a2bd7e0_full.jpg"][COLOR="RoyalBlue"]For Starters[/COLOR][/URL][/CENTER]

The sun was shining, the ocean breeze was blowing, and the waves were swelling in Nico Stanley's favorite surf spot. Board tucked under his arm, he closed his eyes momentarily and let the sunlight soak into his skin. He took a deep breath and dug his toes into the sand, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of contentment growing in his heart. It was times like these that he almost forgot why he was here.

Yet he couldn't forget, and he [I]did[/I] remember. The sound of the crashing waves became the cacophony of afternoon traffic, and in his mind he was once again in that damned city. He could clearly see his family's large, expensive downtown apartment. He still remembered what it had smelled like when he had returned from running errands on that day.

It had been two years since his parents had been murdered in their home; two years since he had found them, bound together, their throats cut. When they had released him from the psych ward, his uncle James had advised him to get away.

"Leave this damn city," he had said. "Take the money they left you and go. Your thoughts need room to wander; they need space so that they can travel away from this nightmare. These skyscrapers and noisy streets will keep those dark things trapped in your head forever."

And so Nico, native New Yorker of age twenty-two, decided to accept his uncle's advice and begin again in a not-so-commercial area of Southern California. Here, in the sunlight and the blue sky, he finally could let go.

Snapping out of his reverie, he grabbed his board in both hands and charged into the water. He caught the first wave that came his way and easily rode it out. Sometimes he was surprised at how quickly he had mastered surfing. In fact, over the last few months, his body had been behaving in many strange ways. His exercises were becoming easier and easier to finish. He was setting new personal records every other day, it seemed. Why, just the other week he had jerked 800 pounds over his head. Such was his surprise at this that he accidentally threw the barbell down on a leg-press machine, effectively breaking it. Luckily this strange event had occurred during one of his 3AM I-can't-sleep-workouts, so Nico was able to flee the scene undetected.

After three hours of riding waves, the sun began to set on Nico's fun. He trekked up the beach and over a few large rocks to reach his small, oceanside home.

He had left the tv on. The nightly news was winding down with their strange stories, like they always did.

[I]Yesterday in Britain, during a performance by Reverent Power, an amplifier exploded, injuring several people. Investigators are clueless as to how the medium-sized amp generated so much energy upon explosion. They have not ruled out the possibility of some sort of sonic bomb. The following video was taken with a camera-phone by a fan. [/I]

Nico turned off the television, but the story wouldn't leave his mind. Something was bothering him. It felt as though there was a piece of the story that he knew...something he should understand...suddenly a word formed in his mouth.

"[B]Chronus[/B]! Wait, what?" He shook his head, laughing at himself. He thought he had something for a second.


An explosion of thunder wrenched Nico awake in the middle of the night. What he saw in his room made him gasp.


Nico's room was completely illuminated, as if it were noon. He leaped from his bed and looked out the window. The ocean was a black mass that merged seamlessly with the equally dark sky. He turned back to his bright room and checked the lamps. They were all off. Where was the light coming from? Were the walls themselves glowing?

Nico opened his bedroom door and stepped out into the hall, meaning to check the rest of his house for this strange phenomenon. However, he had not taken two steps when he realized what was happening. The dark living room was growing brighter with every foot closer he traveled. The light was coming from [I]him.[/I]

Breathing hard, he dashed sideways into the bathroom. Out of habit he flicked the light switch, though he did not need to. The tiny washroom had lit up the second he stepped in.

Nico examined himself in the mirror and yelled in shock. Not only was he generating light like a fluorescent bulb, but there was also something wrong with his eyes.

They were a bright shade of red.

"Fuck me!" Nico exclaimed, bewildered and frightened, as his hands reached up to touch his face.

Nico is a member of the Chronus clan, and his power is given to him by light. His power [I]is[/I] light. He absorbs it into his body, and the sunlight grants him great strength, speed, stamina, and agility. Also, as his Chronus blood develops inside him, he will gain more and more control over the light energy. Currently it only leaves him in the form of an aura, lighting dark places. However, with time he will be able to concentrate the light stored within him into violent flashes and even beams of terrible intensity. Nico is at a disadvantage when fighting at night, because if he uses up all of his stored energy there is no way to replenish it.[/B]

[B]OOC:[/B] I would like to point out that I'm [I]not[/I] saying the character is invincible when fighting in the sunlight. The rate at which he absorbs sunlight is much slower than the rate at which he spends it in combat. I'm merely saying that, during the day, the presence of the sun keeps him from losing all energy completely.

[B]OOC2:[/B] Hope you don't mind me stealing your swear, DeLarge.:p I was going for some parallelism.
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[FONT=Arial][COLOR=Navy]I don?t know how I learned this. I don?t know where I learned to hack the keypad like I did to get in here. I don?t know where I learned to use the equipment, or where I learned to engineer what I did. Hell! I don?t even know what I made! But here I stand, in my professors closed off workshop holding the syringe of what I had just made.

It started a few weeks days ago. I was at rugby practice. I almost had my friend when he went up for the ball. Last thing I remember is him coming down with what looked like might be a vicious elbow. I woke up some time later with a paramedic shining a light in my eyes. He said something about blood and my eyes and I was taken back to the ambulance. I was foggy for a bit, but I do remember seeing them for the first time.

My eyes.

I was lying in the stretcher and I turned to the side and saw my reflection in the metal of the storage cabinets in the ambulance. Instead of my comfortable brown eyes, I was confronted with crimson. I stared for a moment, blinking a few times to see if it was just a trick of the eyes themselves, but it wasn?t. I held my eyes closed and resigned that something was incredibly wrong with me.

Every test they ran came back negative. There was no reason for it; they told me that it was like I was born with red eyes. Pictures were taken and I was questioned for hours on just about every aspect of my life, but at the end of the day I was sent home with a few aspirin for the bump on my head and nothing else. I don?t know how many hours I spent looking in the mirror that night, I don?t even remember falling asleep. Thought I do remember the dreams.

Dreams of great things: colossal monoliths of technology, living hardware, knowledge beyond human reach, and a tall dark figure covered in metal. I awoke and suddenly ideas and plans had formed in my head. A list of components and ingredients had made itself known to me through these dreams. As the days passed the list became clearer. It got to a point where I felt like I physically needed to build what my mind was showing me. It all came as impulse. The next thing I knew I was standing outside of my professor?s office. As if by instinct, I ripped off the keypad that unlocked the door and started connecting wires to let me in.

Upon entry I went to work on a machine near exclusive to MIT. It was a large computer that mass produced nanobots. I pulled a now gutted and mutilated PDA from my knapsack and wired it to the computer. It instantly started transferring data over and the computer went to work. A few stressful hours later and the machine was done. A vial of clear liquid was produced.

And here I stand, holding the syringe filled with nanobots that I have no idea what they would be capable of, and wondering why I would do this. I tied the surgical tubing around my left bicep and started to flex my hand until the vein appeared in my arm. I paused once more, looking at the clear liquid, wondering what it could hold for me, and finally the plunged the needle into the vein. I dumped the contents into my system and sat there for a moment.


I felt nothing. I decided to go home and sleep what was left of the night in my bed. Fixing the computer and keypad was just as easy as gutting them and I snuck my way out.

I slept well that night, but the morning brought new horrors. My muscles were the first to feel the effects. They burned as if hot coals were pressed against them and they were constantly contracting. The next was my heart. It felt as if I was being shocked repeatedly by a defibrillator. The only recess I had was when I finally passed out from exhaustion. I don?t know how long I was passed out, but when I awoke I felt, enhanced.

I had evolved.
[/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][FONT=Arial][COLOR=Navy]Allow me to introduce Tobin Hawkins, or [URL="http://i119.photobucket.com/albums/o159/pjmckrafty/brennan.jpg"][U]Toby[/U][/URL]. Originally from Hawaii, he is currently a student at MIT in Cambridge, Massachusetts. [/COLOR][/FONT][FONT=Arial][COLOR=Navy]He is a twenty-three year old descendant of Reshef. [/COLOR][/FONT][FONT=Arial][COLOR=Navy] The only thing Toby gained by his linage is a vast knowledge of technology. Though unable to draw upon it by will, it all seems to come to him as impulse and second nature. What he just did in that piece was, unbeknown to him at the time, evening the odds with himself and the other disciples.

The nanobots in his body are constantly at work, bringing his physical abilities to Olympic levels. A second set has sped up his metabolism so that, though not instantaneous, his body can mend itself at ten times the rate of the normal human.

A third and final kind of nanobot was placed into his system that does nothing but circulate through his blood. This creates friction throughout his body and produces static electricity. It takes days for his body to build up it's own charge, but in a pinch, Toby can (quite painfully) "aquire" energy from any live source. Toby has yet to perfect this skill, and, seeing that electricity is quite unstable, he is only able to use it through direct contact.
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[LEFT][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS][B]Name:[/B] [/FONT]Kurai "Tetra" Hayashi (She is also known as "Itachi", which translates to "weasel", but prefers to be called Tetra.)

[/COLOR][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS] [B]Age:[/B] 15

[/FONT] [/COLOR][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS] [B]Sex:[/B] Female

[/FONT] [/COLOR][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS] [B]Nationality:[/B] Japanese. Tetra was born in Kyoto, but moved to the United States.

[/FONT] [/COLOR][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS] [B]Clan:[/B] Baal

[/FONT] [/COLOR][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS] [B]Personality:[/B] Often calm and gentle, Tetra will listen to both sides of the story. However, when angered, she can get violent. So violent, in fact, Tetra had hospitalized 10 businessmen and killed 3 for saying her hair was a bad omen, as it "resembled a weasel", as they said. (Weasels are a bad omen in Japanese mythology, or so I hear) When fighting, she normally uses her abilities in combination with her wit. Tetra occasionally uses weapons, which are usually needles or bladed fans.

[/FONT] [/COLOR][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS] [B]Appearance:[/B]


[/FONT][/COLOR][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS] [B]Powers:[/B] Tetra hasn't fully developed her abilities yet, as she can understand animals and normally has heightened senses. She can also, at the moment, become "half-weasel". (The ears and the tail of a weasel... and that's pretty much it.) As time progresses, Tetra will eventually become able to take the full shape of a weasel, and even become as small as one.

[/FONT] [/COLOR][COLOR=Black][FONT=Comic Sans MS] [B]Background:[/B]Tetra has always been a bit of a loner. She has also always had bad luck. Everywhere she went, Tetra would always encounter some sort of unfortunate situation. At age 8, she developed the half-weasel ability. A young child had seen it, and called her "Itachi". Since then, she has been known as a bad omen for the town. Tetra started understanding animals at age 11, and left the country on her 15th birthday. She has lived in the United States for 3 months now.
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I think I'll just give up on this one, actually. I'm already a bit overwhelmed with other stuff. I just can't stop cramming things into my head and schedule.

But if a spot opens up, or my schedule opens up a bit more, I'll probably come back to this.

For now, farewell.:animesmil
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  • 2 weeks later...
[size=1][color=#8B008B]It's been a while since I've joined an RPG. And, as always, Vicky knows how to write the ones that'll tweak my imagination. SIS forever?

Anywho, since my internet is currently my phone, I won't be able to get a sign up in anytime soon, but put me down for [B]Reshef[/B]'s clan; if not that then I will take [B]Chronus[/B]'s clan.

I'll try to get a sign up in as soon as I can.[/size][/color]
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