![enter image description here](http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/312/f/1/ivan_by_shibue-d32h2qc.jpg "enter image title here") **Name:** Jason Stonebow **Operational Code name:** None yet. **Virtue:** Vision/Hope **Vice:** Despair **Appearance:** I wish I’d had the chance to get some more rebellious clothes to fit my new image, like those fingerless gloves or the pagan hoody of the other kid at Eden had. At least that way I could have symbolically ended my old life as the sugarcube of the flock. Instead I’m stuck with the only dark clothes I could find in my closet – a plain v-neck T-shirt and a grey collared jacket, way too elegant for this. My formal shoes could almost make me laugh but I had nothing else. I wish I could at least have dyed my hair – it's still blonde and makes me look too young. Of course, I'm no longer as pristine as I used to be. Eden has left its harsh imprint on me and Alex both and I think you can tell we've been through a bit and not just by our tattered clothes and shabby shoes. **Age:** 19 **Biography:** I was born in Mirria, a small town in the deep Texan south-west. We were cut off from civilization and I don't think it was entirely by accident either. Our town was a highly religious patriarchal society where the word of the church is law. Beating up your children was a good thing – after all it teaches them to take a beating and they'll need to know that when they come face to face with all the monsters. That's what the True Faith is all about, at the core of it – discipline and ways to ward of the evil that lurks in the dark. A beautiful concept on the surface. I bought into it at first too – I advocated it and brought so many rebellious young people around. After all, I was young myself and the preacher's perfect son and that made it ever so easy to inspire trust in a small town like that. It took something drastic to open my eyes. It was a break-in – an assault you might say. Silly thing was, the thug didn't have a firearm. Those were rare in our town anyway – only a few had them and were very protective of them. So the guy broke through our porch window in the middle of the night, armed with nothing more than a knife and some sharp words. My father didn't have much trouble dealing with him, he had a gun after all. I was fifteen at the time and when they started talking, weapons pointed at each other, I still believed my father will bring the guy around and convince him he's being stupid, then forgive and bless him and send him on his way. It didn't turn out quite like that – the guy was rambling about the “outside world” and called our faith fake and I don't remember my father being angry but he did pull the trigger despite. The guy went silent in an instant – all that remained was the ringing of the shot and his voice in my ears. I'm sure now that my father had recognised him as Lucas, one of our flock. I'm sure he didn't give a shit when he shot him. Actually, maybe he did. He ordered mom to start cleaning up the mess and searched his body. He found a notebook there, full of pictures and scribbles of Lucas' blasphemous ideas. The fireplace was handy – it was on as well – but my father didn't toss the book there. He tossed it to me – said Lucas must have friends in our flock and that I need to identify them and straighten them up. Or he would. I had the Sunday school at my disposal to do that. And I did, in a way. I found our who they were but by that time I had read too much of the book myself. My father was blissfully unaware that I wasn't working to root the blasphemy out – I was preaching it now. I shouldn't have. People died because of me. Next thing we were in “Eden”, Alex and I. It's one of the madhouses built to control us blasphemers. As you can tell by the name, they don't see it that way. It's a holy place for them, somewhere where we find out beliefs again and get reintegrated into society. I can tell you what they do to reintegrate us. I can, but I won't. I'd rather forget. **What was their first encounter with monsters:** I think it was the initiation. I can't quite remember. **Skills:** I used to be good at inspiring people and giving them hope. Now look where that got them. **Equipment and Resources:** None. **Edges:** I've had some experience with the old revolver my father had so I know I have a good aim but I'm yet to perfect my skills in that regard. **Endowments:** I'm good at the Benedictions of the True Faith – although Issac claims they're originally from Malleus Malificarum, whatever that is. **Mortal tie:** Everyone at Mirria. Part of me still naively thinks I can save them. They are my flock, I owe them that. ------------- ![Alex Qinn](http://i62.tinypic.com/2vlpncz.jpg) **Name:** Alex Qinn **Operational Code name:** Sieg [Zeeg] **Virtue:** Temperance **Vice:** Ruthlessness **General appearance:** I don’t care about my looks anymore. I put on whatever I have at hand and don’t even bother combing my hair. I used to look like a little doll but now I don’t. Now I probably look like the ghost of a doll that should have collapsed long ago. I feel drained most of the time due to the worries and lack of sleep and I’m sure if shows on my passive face and in the shadows under my eyes. **Age:** 17 **Biography: ** To talk about my history seems rather pointless as it was mostly the history of everyone else in this town. I was brought up believing in something foul, something that said it’s right to punish your own children for enjoying what life they were bestowed with. I was a good girl and my dad was proud of me so he only beat me up rarely. My mom must have also been proud as after each one she would smile brightly at me and braid my hair – she was proud I was realizing my mistakes and atoning for them, surely. And I was happy. Can you believe that, to be happy to get a beating after coming home late only because a storm caught you with no umbrella at hand? Well, now I can see it was crazy to believe that to be parental care and affection. The person who showed me actual kindness was Jason. I first met him in church, during one of the services when we both sensed something unusual about each other. He was the son of the preacher and I’ve always gotten a weird vibe off of him but I was unsure what it was until that day. It’s when he was handling out the leaflets with the new songs that he looked at me and his look lingered for a second too long before moving on. I knew there was a secret hidden behind those eyelids and I was right. It was night and I was alone in my room when I finally got the courage to open the leaflet and see what he had undoubtedly scribbled inside. It wasn’t much but it was enough. It was a simple “come”. It was right under the information about the Sunday school. The Sunday school his father had recently entrusted to him. But… it wasn’t a Sunday school. Or maybe it was, because it was so much holier than anything the True Faith had to offer. It was simply the Truth. The truth about human connections, about real relationships, real love, real friendship. About the world outside Mirria. Jason was very cautious who he shared his secret with – we were a small group of seven who were carefully selected by him after long observation and consideration. He didn’t force us to believe what he said but we had no doubt that he was indeed telling the truth. Our hearts knew it and our scars confirmed. We were… we were relieved from the True Faith. Saved, I dare say. I cried like a baby that time, I remember. Everyone thought I was cute and fragile after, though that’s not true. They just thought so because I was so relieved and they mistook it for something else. They were all so kind to me after that, like a real family should be. We became really close and what bond us together, more than anything, was Jason. Because he was our Faith, our Hope. He was the one who believed, more than any of us, that there was salvation, not just for us, but for everyone. He believed that Mirria could be saved. But he was broken. His faith and hope were broken that day, when he publicly announced in front of everyone in the Sunday service, that the True Faith was fake. That it should disappear. We… we tried to stop him. We knew his father would kill him, so we jumped on our feet and went to shield him. I can’t forget the looks on everyone’s faces as we did. The shock growing to burning hatred still haunts me at night. As do the screams that followed – the screams of the only people I ever truly cared about. We were quickly overpowered, captured, sent to different camps… Kevin wasn’t so lucky. His death… This event changed us. It broke our faith and our hope. It broke Jason. He’s not the same anymore, he keeps blaming himself and grew cold and distant, even to me. I’m sure he’s keeping me at a distance because he’s afraid he’s only going to get me in more trouble, but this distance is killing me. His empty stare is killing me. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that we’re the only ones from our little group who got set up in the same camp. I’m sure it’s his father’s doing because he knows me being here will be the worst punishment for Jason, because he knows I’m not going to give up on him, even if he already has given up on himself. Whether us being freed from there was a coincidence or not, I'm not so sure. One thing I do know, though, and that is that I'll get Jason through project Tallow, even if I have to push him forward with a dagger in hand. Sometimes you can only achieve your goal by hurting others and I’m ready to hurt my friend as much as I need to, but I will get him back. **When they first came in contact with monsters:** I couldn't tell you how young I was, but I was young, that much I remember. My mother made my hair and put makeup on my face and looked really proud – I thought it was something like a birthday. I suppose in some sense it was – it was an initiation (a word I didn't know back then). Apparently all the kids in town went through it at some point. It was supposed to be safe too – the pastor blessed me and drove me to the old dairy factory. It's been abandoned for years and we all know it's haunted but it's never been demolished as it was still useful to some. I was supposed to make it out and go back home safe., by myself. I think the spirits enjoyed this tradition too because they didn't manifest until the car drove off. And after... Well, they had to come get me the evening of the next day. I'd done all I could to get out but the factory just wouldn't let me. That's how I failed my initiation. My father beat me up that night (it hurt more than what the spirits managed to inflict) and I had to repeat the ceremony later that year. **Skills:** Pretending and playing the part. I can assume any role and play it well while never losing track of my goals or herself. That makes me a good spy and sometimes a pretty unnerving ally. **Equipment and Resources:** None. My wits are all I've ever had, and Jason's support, if that accounts to anything. **Edges:** I'm good at being Slasher-bait. Or any bait, really, as long as the target is sentient. **Endowments:** Toxins. I've been taught how to mix herbs and enhance my hearing or sight, as well as to heal wounds or infections. Talismans. Did you know certain gemstones and metals have properties you can utilise? I do – my mother taught me. I'm not the expert she is, of course, but maybe I've had some practice and with time I'm sure I can get better. **Mortal tie: ** My friends back in Eden. And Jason. I want to help them both but I don't know if it's possible. I'm also starting to think I'll burn myself out before either of them is saved. **Other:** I don’t sleep much. Not only because I have nightmares but also because I worry about Jason. I fear that if I let my eyes off him for too long he’ll do something horrible to himself.